Page 54 of The Overtime Kiss

“All right,” I say to Parker, rubbing my palms together, focusing on business, the task at hand. “What do you think? Does anything need to be adjusted?”

My son is lying on his bed, staring critically at the ceiling with narrowed eyes. “I think I need to be in the dark to know for sure.”

“Well, fortunately, you have blinds.” I move around his room to pull down the wooden shutters. It’s evening, but it’s still not dark enough.

“Why don’t I grab some dark sheets?” Sabrina suggests, then hustles out of there, quickly returning with a set of black linen from the closet in the hall. Without using thumbtacks or anything else, she loops them around the top of the wooden blinds as footsteps grow louder—Luna must have emerged from her room to check things out.

“That’s impressive,” I say with a low whistle as I appraise Sabrina’s work.

“I’m a little crafty,” Sabrina replies as Luna pops into the room, her ponytail bouncing.

“That’s true. Sabrina makes her own costumes,” Luna says.

Why does that excite me? I don’t even know, but I turn to Sabrina for confirmation. “You made your own skating costumes?”

“Necessity is also the mother of invention. I had to, so I taught myself to sew,” she says, twisting the final sheet into place. “What do you think?”

I think I want to know why shehad to, but I also think she doesn’t want to talk about it this second as the room transforms. The ceiling glows with thousands of stars.

Parker gasps. “This is amazing,” he says.

“You did good picking these out,” Sabrina says to him with a smile visible in the darkness.

“Thank you for helping,” Parker says, a little guilt and gratitude in his tone. He’s not angling to be her best friend. He doesn’t treat her the same way he did Agatha. But he’s warming up to her, and I’m glad for that.

“Yeah, I kind of like them too,” Luna says, admiring the stars, then tapping her chin. “But I’d want a disco ball instead.”

Sabrina’s eyes light up. “Disco balls are so cool. I wanted disco balls in my room so badly when I was a kid.”

“Did you have them?” Luna asks, hanging on Sabrina’s every word.

She shakes her head, her shiny blonde hair swishing. “My parents said I couldn’t. They thought it was too immature. But I was a kid—I was supposed to be immature.”

“Hello! That’s what being a kid is. And now I really want a disco ball,” Luna says, clasping her hands together as she turns to me, batting those big brown eyes. “Can I get a disco ball for the ceiling, Dad?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head. But it’s hardly a no. It’s more likehow can I say no to you? When I let go, I look at Sabrina with a playful accusation. “Look what you’ve unleashed.”

But Sabrina has no remorse. She points to me. “You unleashed it. You put the stars on the ceiling first.”

Luna shimmies her hips. “I guess that means I can get a disco ball!”

“Why do I feel like I’m outnumbered already?” I ask.

“Because you kind of are,” Luna says, grabbing Sabrina’s arm in solidarity.

“She speaks the truth,” Sabrina says.

Parker cuts in. “I think there’s one set of stars that needs to be adjusted.” He points toward Orion’s Belt. At least, he’s told me it’s Orion’s Belt. “There are a couple extra stars and they need to be moved.” His brow knits. “I can do it.”

But he’s a little afraid of heights. I go to intervene, but before I can, Sabrina pops up. “I’ll do it,” she says, and my body heats with warmth that she knows so much about my son already.

In no time, she climbs the ladder, stretches her arms toward the ceiling, and everything starts to rise.

And I do mean everything.

I clear my throat, cough, then make up an excuse about needing a drink. I exit the room so I can cool the fuck off. My chest is a furnace. My skin is sweltering. She is too much.

Down in the kitchen, I fill a glass with tap water and pace. This is the occupational hazard of wanting to bang your nanny: the risk of getting turned on around your kids.

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