Page 29 of Suddenly Entwined

“But we’re doing okay now,” I add.

“You’re doing more than okay. Your girls are adorable, funny, and smart. And Louisa is super good at climbing fences quickly. You’ve got this.”

Her ability to make a subtle joke when I told her how my wife died is fucking refreshing. Caro doesn’t feel sorry for me. I can tell. I’ve had grown women call me a poor baby when they find out that I’m a widower. Some have suggested they don’t know how I carried on, as if I had the choice to give up. Every day all around the world people parent against the odds and I owed it to Trudy and my daughters to give the best I could, even if on many days that wasn’t very good at all.

“Yep,” I say gruffly. “One day at a time.”

“I won’t keep you up. You don’t need to babysit me.”

I scoff, immediately reminded of Tamara’s rude comments earlier. I’m sure that wasn’t the last I’ll hear about the party from her.

“What? What’s funny?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, actually. Milly’s mom suggested that…” I don’t want to repeat it. It’s too rude. “I had to tell her you weren’t a babysitter.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Ha! Not for a long time.”

“Too bad. It’s hard to find good babysitters these day–”

I stop mid sentence, zoning out as I stare at the pattern in the granite bar top until it blurs.

“Berg? Earth to Berg?”

I shake my head to clear it. “Sorry, I just…”

Caro was so brave today, like I already told her. I smile as I imagine her working as some type of child bodyguard, protecting them from dangerous donkeys and other wayward barn animals. And then it hits me. Not a bodyguard. Not even a babysitter. A nanny.

“The girls,” I say, refocusing on her face.

“What?” She tilts her ear toward the ceiling, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Did we wake them?”

“No. You can watch the girls for me.”

“Like, right now? Do you…have somewhere to go?”

I almost roll my eyes. When was the last time I went anywhere after supper?

“For work. You can watch the girls. Be our nanny.”

“A nanny?” Her tone is doubtful. She’s looking at me like I’ve lost the plot.

“Yes! I need…”

“Help?”

“No.” My expression sounds curt, even to my ears. “I mean,” I soften my voice. “I’m doing fine on my own.”

“Berg, if you don’t need any help…why hire me? I have a job and the girls have before and after school care, right?”

They do. But with me taking on more responsibilities at work, there’s a chance I’ll need more flexibility from my childcare. The rules around pick up and drop off at the girls’ school are strict. I pull my phone from my jeans pocket and open the calendar app. It’s jam packed with colourful boxes denoting before and after school care, birthday parties, swim lessons, play dates, and appointments. There’s a solid chance I’ve forgotten to put something on there too.

“Uh, wow.” She scrolls to the next month, which looks equally crappy. “That’s…messy.”

“That’s one word for it.”

She smiles and I feel like I’m floating.

Then she shakes her head.

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