Page 7 of Holiday Hire

"Yeah!" Wilder pumps his arm in the air, and the other kids follow, chanting, "Beach party!"

My siblings and parents seem to find it funny, but it irritates me. The last thing I need is this woman putting ideas into my kids' heads when she won't be here to follow through. So I mutter, "Better do it this week, then."

The room goes quiet, and she says, "I can be back by Tuesday if that works?"

"It does," Dad answers.

Phoebe's lips twist. She arches her eyebrows as she asks me, "And for you? Tuesday through Monday will give you enough time to make your assessment?"

I wonder why she finds this funny. Come next week, she'll be hightailing it back to California, homeless. But I answer, "Yep."

"Great. Can we eat now? I'm hungry," Jagger states.

Trays full of lunch meat, cheese, and bread are passed around the table. Bowls with potato salad, Caesar salad, and fruit follow.

"Did you make all this, Georgia?" Phoebe asks.

"Evelyn and the girls helped. Didn't you?" she asks Emma, Evelyn's middle child, who seems attached to Georgia's hip lately.

"I washed the lettuce and broke it apart!" Emma exclaims, beaming.

"You did a great job too," Georgia says, and they fist-bump.

"Mmm, this lettuce is amazing," Phoebe declares, taking a huge bite and grinning at Emma.

Emma eats up her praise, and I internally groan.

Maybe this idea of Georgia's isn't so good after all.These kids are going to get attached to Phoebe and then I'll be the bad guy.

The conversation continues, but I barely hear it. I hardly taste my food either. Everyone around the table is eating and praising Phoebe like she's the most amazing person to ever stay at our home. It only convinces me further that this is going to be a disaster. Of all the things my mother has done, this is going to top the cake. Phoebe won't be needed, and these kids will be heartbroken once she leaves.

Better in a week than two months.

Two months.

What the heck were my parents thinking? My kids don't need to get attached to any woman who isn't family.

Warm apple pie crumble topped with vanilla ice cream gets passed around the table. It's another dessert hit by Georgia. She has a thriving cupcake business, but she can make anything. She even figured out how to make low-sugar stuff taste good for my brother, who's terrified of getting diabetes. Today is no different. She made the same dish but with reduced sugar for him.

"Who will do holiday stuff with us while you're gone?" Isabella asks my mom.

Mom points around the table. "Everyone here, plus your other aunties and Phoebe."

"Phoebe's only here for a week," I remind everyone.

"Alexander, you will give Phoebe a fair chance," Dad commands.

I grind my molars. I love my family, but this is one of those situations where I wished they'd stay out of my business.

This is what I get for still living on the ranch.

Maybe I should move out?

What am I saying? This is our home, and my sons would be devastated.

Phoebe pipes up. "It's okay. I'll prove to Alexander that I can add value while you're gone." She grins at me.

I stare back at her, my mouth turning dry. I'm not sure who this woman thinks she is, but if she thinks she can win me over, she's got another thing coming.

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