Page 38 of Suddenly Entwined

“Mm hmm?”

“I need help.”

Breath whooshes out of me the moment the words leave my lips. I know I’m carrying a lot of small weights around with me every day. Work, kids, bills, health, home. But by asking for help, it feels like I set one of them down, at least for a moment. She chews her lip, perusing the growing pile of artwork the girls are always bringing home from school. When Caro looks up at me and nods her head, I rap my knuckles on the table. This is fucking perfect.

“The girls are going to lose it.”

“Yes, well, I might too,” she teases.

“Perfect. They can drive us crazy together.”

Chapter thirteen

Carolina

The next day, the kids and I are still sick, and I’m happy to convalesce with them so Berg can work. In the morning I call Marv, who accepts my resignation, and the girls and I spend the rest of the day drinking tea and watching cartoons. Despite Natalie’s staunch opinions about napping, we all fall asleep again that afternoon. By Wednesday, we’re on the mend, and today will be my first official day as Natalie and Louisa’s nanny. I woke up early, excited and nervous about taking this on, and now I’m biding my time until I need to head upstairs. My fingers hover over my phone screen as I scowl at the messages Emilio sent through on Monday. Every couple of months, he sends through another fresh batch of bullshit. I should delete them. I massage my temples, trying not to sink into the memories from last year. Of obsessively checking my bank account to see if he’dtransferred the money back. Of finally having to call my brother and making up some bullshit story about “overspending” so he’d lend me the money for a plane ticket out of Spain. Leaving the country behind felt like a nail in the coffin. It was an acceptance that the money was gone. The temptation to reply is so strong. But what would I write that hasn’t already been said? No. Today I start something new, and that’s as good a day as any to move on from this, too. I delete the message and block his number, pressing my palm over my pounding heart until it slows.

“That was the right decision,” I tell myself.

It’s time to move forward.

At eight o’clock, I peek my head through Berg’s front door, a comforting coffee and toast scent floating through the air.

“Morning!” I call.

Nobody answered when I knocked, and it feels super weird to let myself in.

I slip off my shoes and head toward the kitchen and am nearly bowled over as the girls slide by me in their socks and pyjamas on the way to their bedroom.

“Good morning, girls.”

“Hi, Caro!” they shout before the door slams.

“It’s going to rain! No dresses! Caro? Tell them no dresses.”

I press my mouth closer to their bedroom door. “No dresses.” I pause. “Or else,” I growl, and the only response I get is a burst of giggles.

I find Berg standing with his broad back to me, ingredients scattered across the counter. He’s wearing those work pants with more pockets than seems necessary and the reinforced padding on the knees. He’s filling them out real nice. There’s no way about it. They immediately make me imagine Berg hard at work, kneeling with a sheen of sweat across his brow. I twist my hair into a clip and shake my head. Do not be the nanny that crushes on the dad.

“What are we making?” I ask, a little too brightly, as I join him at the counter.

He glances down at me. Another reminder of how tall he is.

“Lunches. You don’t need to knock, by the way. I gave you the code.”

“Yeah,” I say, examining the label on a box of crackers. “But this is still your home.”

“And I’m expecting you in it. You come on in, okay?”

“Even when you’re showering?” I joke.

The butter knife in his hand clanks against the counter as it falls from his hand.

He clears his throat. “You’re not gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Not for a long time, no.”

“Fair enough.”

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