Page 15 of Passed Ball

"We're going to find you a nanny who won't disappear on us today," I say, amazed at how much I talk to her like this.

After compulsively checking the diaper bag, Holland and I head out--only five minutes late, which might be a record.

Twenty minutes later, I'm praying the bell at Buns & Roses doesn't wake Holland as I wrestle the stroller through the door and into the warmth. I yank off my beanie, running my fingers through my matted hair as I scan the coffee shop.

A young couple is huddled in the corner--definitely not my nanny. There's a guy working on his laptop, a grandma with two grandkids, and a teenager waiting in line.

A whimper from the stroller reminds me to move, but I'm not sure where to go. There's no one here who fits the bill of the twenty-six-year-old nanny I'm supposed to interview.

"Did you bring Holland to see me, or is she keeping you up all night again and you're just here for my coffee?" Lilah steps out from behind the counter, peeking into Holland's stroller with a grin. "She's the sweetest."

"Mhmmm, especially when she sleeps well, like she did last night."

Lilah straightens, hand resting atop her stomach. "So, a regular amount of caffeine today? No need for an IV drip?"

"Let's not go crazy. I'm still a single parent." I glance back to the seating area, hoping my interviewee showed up while I was talking. No such luck. The same crowd is here, but now the couple in the booth is kissing, coffee forgotten.

"You didn't happen to have anyone stop in looking lost or asking for me. I'm supposed to meet a potential nanny here for an interview."

"I didn't see anyone. Want me to check with Willa? She's in the back, but was helping customers earlier."

"No. I'll send her a text. It's possible we got our times mixed up." Like a beacon of disappointment, I look at my phone to see a text preview showing a message from Teddy.

Teddy Sinclair:

Sorry for the late notice, but I have to cancel

our interview. The family I used to work for let

me know they're expecting again and looking for

help. I hope you understand.

"Son of a . . . biscotti." I catch myself at the last minute.

"Everything okay?" Lilah asks, her nose scrunching because she already knows the answer.

"No, I guess we'll be taking that coffee to go. Back to the drawing board with nannies. On the bright side, I have plenty of time to get to Double Play now."

"So, a double shot of espresso, then."

"Why the heck not?" I agree, following her to the counter where she works on the opposite side, making my drink.

She hums as she works, her back to me, and I realize whatever she's doing is more involved than my macchiato. Spinning around with a flourish, she hands me a brown bag and sets down two drinks.

Wincing, she grabs her stomach. "Oh, that one hurt."

Panic hits. "Shit, Lilah, is it contractions? Do I need to call Cruz?"

Her hand closes over mine, pulling it across the counter. Despite the discomfort, she looks overjoyed. "Just an elbow or foot. See?" She waits a beat, then places my hand on her bump. "We're fine."

"Oh, wow." I pull my hand back, rubbing my neck, my gaze shifting to Holland. "That's . . . wow."

"Kristy never--really?" Her smile falls.

"Things weren't good when she came back. She could barely stand to be around me, and there was a lot of animosity. I missed out on a lot." Without realizing it, I've started rocking the stroller back and forth, a habit I picked up to soothe Holland. Only right now, I'm not doing it for her sake.

Her hand lands on my forearm. "I'm so sorry, Xavier."

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