Page 5 of Architect's Christmas Nanny

“That’s right, kiddo,” he told her fondly, glancing in the rearview mirror. “And the cottage we’re moving into on the homestead is even smaller than the penthouse.”

“But the homestead is on more than three hundred acres of land,” Josie pointed out, suddenly sounding completely awake. “Won’t that be plenty of space for a dog?”

“A puppy is a big responsibility,” Brad said automatically,wondering if he was being outmaneuvered by a nine-year old.

“Well, I was thinking,” she said. “You told me that I don’t really need a nanny anymore. Maybe I’m ready for more responsibility.”

He tried to hide his smile. The trouble with having a kid who was smart was that you found yourself proud of them, even when they were getting the best of you.

“Besides,” she sniffed. “I don’t think I want a puppy anymore. There are too many grown-up dogs out there that need homes. I was thinking we could go to a rescue place instead—maybe foster a dog and see if it feels like a good fit.”

Wow, she’s good.

“We’ll see,” he said. He knew it was an extremely uncreative parent fallback answer. But he didn’t exactly want to roll over and tap out without thinking it through. “You make some interesting arguments, Josie.”

“I know,” she said. “Hey, Christmas lights.”

He chuckled and admired the lights with her. They were getting really close now.

“I’ll bet your grandma will have some lights up too,” he told her.

“No, she’ll be waiting for me,” Josie said firmly. “She’ll want us to do them together.”

“You’re probably right,” he told her. “Except you know you’re not the only Williams grandkid, right?”

“She’ll be worried about me because of Jillian,” Josie said.

Brad hummed noncommittally, though as usual, his daughter was probably right. And the whole idea madehim question yet again if he was really doing the right thing here.

“I understand, Dad,” Josie said. “Jillian needs to have her own life, just like you said. She can’t go off to college with me.”

She was only echoing what he’d been saying to her all week, but he appreciated her cooperation. He was having the devil of a time keeping all those good reasons at the front of his own mind.

He turned onto Providence Road and felt that old sense of coming home again.

“Almost there,” Josie piped up happily.

“You had fun here last year, didn’t you?” he asked her.

“I love it here,” she told him. “I’ll bet Chester will be waiting by the door for us.”

Chester was the family cat. Brad honestly couldn’t believe the old boy was still with them, but the creature really did seem to have nine lives. And he was spending all of them stalking around Brad’s parents’ house, spoiled as a prince.

They drove on, under a canopy of bare tree branches, and turned into the drive at last. Lights were on in the windows of the big house, but just as Josie said, there were no Christmas lights hung from the porch yet.

“Grandpa will have a nice snack ready for us,” Josie predicted.

“That would be amazing,” Brad groaned.

He avoided stopping as much as possible on long drives, since it meant letting Josie wander into strange restrooms alone, and then negotiating with her about outrageously unhealthy snacks from the overpricedkiosks, or greasy fast-food meals. But it meant she had been eating granola bars in the backseat all day. And Brad hadn’t eaten much of anything himself.

“If not, we’ll fix ourselves something,” he told her as he pulled into a spot in the little gravel area by the big house where the other cars were.

Josie was out of her seatbelt and bolting for the front door before Brad could even take a breath. He got out of the car and went around to grab their overnight bags out of the back.

“Hey there, son,” his dad called out, jogging down the porch steps to meet him. “Need a hand?”

“Hey, Dad,” Brad said. “No, it’s just stuff for tonight.”

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