Page 28 of Mr. Wolfe's Nanny

Jill’s mother died when she was a baby and some kids have suggested Jill’s to blame for that somehow. Theo’s eyes are dry, unlike mine, but I can tell that in particular tears him apart.

I recall what Margaret told me about how Kathy’s cancer was discovered while she was pregnant and that they’d waited until after Jill’s birth to start treatment. Does Jill know that? Believe it? What a horrible thing for a child to believe.

“It’s not true. It’s not her fault. The tumor was aggressive and…” His voice is tight as he struggles with his anguish.

“I know.”

“I don’t want her going back there!” he shouts. I cringe at how loudly it echoes in the confined space of his car. “You could homeschool her for me, couldn’t you? I’d pay you double, triple, whatever you want.” His chin quivers. I’m definitely going to start crying again if this man sheds a tear. “Fuck, Quinn. How can they be so…”

“Cruel? They’re children. They don’t fully understand how powerful words can be but I’m sorry to say it’s not all that uncommon. Do you think Ryder knows about the names?”

He shakes his head. “No, because if he did he’d be expelled by now for beating up six year-olds.” We pull up to a stop light and he turns to me with a pained look which skewers my heart. “What should I do?”

I’m not a parent. Until I started working for Theo, I had very little hands-on childcare experience outside of the classroom. But I’m recognizing how daunting of a task parenthood must be.

“I wish I could tell you. For tonight, have a talk with Jill, then the four of us will do something fun together to take her mind off of things. How about that?” I know it’s not enough but it’s the best I can offer him right now.

“Could you be there when I talk to her? I know she’s not your daughter but it’s hard doing this… doing so much of it alone.”

“I’ll be there,” I promise. He nods and continues driving us home.

∞∞∞

“Did I kill Mommy?” Jill asks her dad that night when we’ve told her about our trip to the school. Jesus, my heart can’t take this. I don’t know how Theo is holding it together.

“No, baby. You did not. Don’t ever, ever believe that. Cancer killed your mother, not you. Never you.” He cups the back of her head with his hand, draws her close until their foreheads touch.

“I hate cancer, Daddy,” she whispers, trying not to cry.

His voice catches when he pulls her into a hug and replies, “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

The talk which follows includes all four of us. There’s tears to dry and reassurances to be made for both kids but, even feeling emotionally exhausted by the end of it, I feel lighter, too. I think we made progress. I hope so. It was equally heartbreaking and hopeful.

This little family needs fate to cut them some slack and is it crazy to admit I think I can help them? That I want to be part of that?

Afterwards, Jill asks for a sleepover in my quarters… for all four of us.

I catch Theo’s smirk. I shrug my shoulders at him.Yes, they’re good at getting their way like you said but who can blame us for giving in?

As we’re watching the princess embark on her journey of self-discovery (Ryder lost the coin flip to choose the movie), I realize something. I truly love these kids. Sure, I’ve loved kids I’ve taught in the past but this is different, deeper.

And, whether it’s wise or not, I’m in serious danger when it comes to my feelings towards their father as well.

I never thought this job would be so closely tied to my heart when Isa suggested applying.

It surprises me.

It terrifies me a little, too.

14-Quinn

Weeks pass and Theo’s returned to work. Wolfe Media is an international behemoth with dozens of subsidiary companies under it. Thousands of people’s jobs and billions of dollars rely on the success of the company. And soon, Theo will be the man in charge of it all once his father retires.

It’s a huge responsibility, long days which sometimes bleed into late nights. The suite where we shared our night together is one Wolfe Media keeps reserved either for high-end visitors or executives who don’t want to drive an hour or so home.

He misses bedtime with the kids more than he’d like to. Does he tell me that? No but I can hear it in his resigned tone of voice when he calls to check in and admits he’ll be later than hoped.

So, I’ve tried to involve him as much as possible, encouraging the children to draw him things for his office or chatting on a video call for a few minutes. It makes the kids happy. Seeing them happy makes me happy. And seeing their father happy, well… that makes me happy, too.

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