Page 23 of Knocking up his Nanny

CHAPTER 15

SPRUCE WINTERGREEN

What have I done?

I can’t help asking myself this as I lie here, tangled up with this beautiful, naked girl asleep in my arms. Her red hair splayed everywhere.

Of course, I know who June is. I first saw her when picking up the kids from Mrs. Merriweather’s daycare. I saw the way that Holly and Hazel hugged her goodbye. They talked about Miss June all the way home. They demanded I learn to do their hair like hers. They were so in love with her that I developed a bit of a crush on her myself.

I started getting off work early so that I could pick the twins up from daycare, instead of having my sister do it. Willow is busy enough. I could have sent the chauffeur, but I know it means more to the kids to have a family member there, instead of a staff member. I just never had the bravery to go over and talk to her. I just watched from my Escalade with the darkened windows, thinking that there is no way a girl like that would ever want to talk to me, anyway.

I’m older than she is. I’m gloomy and withered by life. She’s full of joy and smiles and hugs.

She’s like a ray of sunshine, bright and beautiful. Unaffected by anything.

Just shining.

Meanwhile my heart is like a dried up, shriveled old raisin. Totally ruined from all the pain of losing my wife, and the stress of single fatherhood. I doubt I have anything to offer her, emotionally.

Financially, sure. I’ve got lots of that.

But what’s the point of having tons of money if you’re with a cranky old fool who erases the smile from your face.

I work so hard to keep a smile on the faces of my children. It’s easier with them. But it’s not so easy with adults. They just suck all the joy out of me. Except for June. When I see her, I feel lighter. I feel like there is less darkness in me.

Once, many months ago, I brought a rose to daycare.

A single, long-stem rose. I wanted to give it to her. But I couldn’t force myself to get out of the vehicle. I had Holly run over and give June the rose. She smiled so beautifully, and hugged it against her chest like she later did with the bag of Cheetos. She looked over at my Escalade with darkened windows, a bit confused, but thankful and flattered. She gave me a little wave of thanks.

But she didn’t see me. I didn’t let her.

I didn’t want to disappoint her.

I might not at first—I guess I don’t exactly look like the beast I feel like, on the outside. I look like a normal, human man. But that’s where the danger lies. Eventually, she would see the darker parts of me, and I would scare her away.

I couldn’t bear to go through all of that again. Getting close to that wonderful woman just to have it all fall apart for some reason. For some dumb misunderstanding, or lack of communication, like my best friend Dr. Barlowe’s marriage.

But when I started seeing June at the hospital, wandering the halls like a lost puppy… that’s when I realized that her life isn’t all made of sunshine.

I saw the darkness flutter across her eyes. I saw fear.

And I didn’t want her to have to go through all of that alone.

I tried to stay away. I did. I tried to help her from afar, just doing my job as chairman of the board. When the hospital wanted to stop offering chemo to patients who had large unpaid medical bills, I insisted that we continue to offer these lifesaving therapies, even if it cost us money. I insisted that profit wasn’t our only bottom line, and that our business was healthcare.

I fought so hard to change our policies, because it was personal. And still, it didn’t seem to help her.

She was clearly overwhelmed by the stress of it all.

At some point, I could no longer resist going to her. Speaking to her. She just looked too damn adorable in that hideous, potato-sack of a sweater. Screaming at junk food. I just wanted to reach out and touch her, and see her smile. See her eyes filled with joy instead of pain.

But I may have taken this too far.

Looking down at her now, lying her in my arms, I feel a bit stunned. I usually don’t question my actions. But I didn’t plan this—I couldn’t control this. I wanted to wait, and take my time with her, and do things slowly. I wanted to wait at least until I got back from my business trip, and could spend some more quality time with her. But I couldn’t stop myself.

I couldn’t slow it down. It just felt so right, that I couldn’t seem to do anything else.

I don’t regret it.

Pressing my face against her hair, I feel a bit of life and hope in my shriveled, dried-up raisin of a heart, for the first time in years. She’s just so open, and genuine, and loving.

She makes me think that things could actually be okay.

She makes me think that I could have a family again.

That my giant, empty house could feel like home.

But she doesn’t even know who I am.

Fuck.

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