Page 13 of Knocking up his Nanny

CHAPTER 8

“How did chemo go?” my sister Noelle is asking as she takes the laundry out of the dryer. I am sitting on the washing machine and still eating leftover garlic bread.

“Ah, it was okay. The doctor suggested getting a chemo port installed.”

“A chemo port?” she asks. “Isn’t that where they put that little device in the chest?” She points to the area where it goes.

I nod.

My mother’s poor veins are becoming damaged and more difficult to access after what seems like hundreds of needle sticks. The doctor advised us she may need the port implant to make it easier to draw blood or administer drugs in the future.

Noelle sighs and turns back to the laundry. “But I thought that she was almost finished with chemo completely.”

“Yes, for this cycle. There are only two more sessions, then we take a break. They said she’s doing extremely well, but they’ll have to run more tests to see how her body is responding to the treatments. She may need more.”

“How will we evenpayfor more?” Noelle asks with frustration. “We haven’t even made a dent in the dozens of other hospital bills. And I’m sure that the surgery to put in the port costs a lot too.”

“We’ll just work more, Ellie,” I assure her. “I got an interview for a new nanny position on Thursday. So, I’m excited about that. Ava’s trying to make that big real estate deal with McGuinty. We’ll find a way to make this work.”

“I hope so,” she says, as she frantically folds clothes. She is doing our own personal clothes— she insisted on doing our bras, which is why I ended up wearing glittery, sequined lingerie today—along with all of the laundry for Snowfall Inn, the little bed and breakfast our parents own. Noelle is great with cutting corners, and she’s been trying to save money wherever possible.

I continue snacking on garlic bread as I watch her. I know she’s a bit OCD, especially when she gets stressed, and will work herself into a frenzy organizing everything. “Hey, Ellie—Ellie. I think it’s all going to be okay. Mum’s strong.”

“I know,” she says, pausing and wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. “Thanks for driving her today. You’re a lot tougher than me and Pop when it comes to this stuff.”

“It’s no big deal. Plus, I met a guy and had an extremely hot make out sesh with him at the hospital,” I say innocently. “He’s the one who bought us dinner.”

“What?!”Ellie says, turning on me. “You met a guy? For real? I thought you were just making stuff up to keep Mumsy off your back.”

“I was—but then I met a real life, non-fictional, super hot, super sweet guy—who happens to be a dreamy, skillful, sensitive lover.” I sigh whimsically.

“Even better than that washing machine?” Ellie asks with a laugh.

“Way better,” I say honestly, swinging my legs happily against the appliance in question.

“Where did you hook up in the hospital?” she asks. “In a car?”

“In a closet,” I answer with a grin.

“So, what’s wrong with him?” she asks, suspicious as ever. “What’s the catch?”

I shrug as I finish the bread. “He didn’t tell me his name and I’m not sure if I’ll ever see him again.”

“Juney!” she says a bit harshly, but filled with concern. “Did you tell himyourname?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Ellie says, putting her hands on her hips. “These days, dating is serious business, and you need to follow the rules! Love is war—you shouldnevergive out more information than you’re receiving.”

“That sounds really complicated,” I tell her. “I don’t know, what’s wrong with just being nice?”

“You shouldn’t be nice to someone if he isn’t being nice to you! Only give as much as you get. If you give too much, that’s how you end up getting hurt.”

“Well, I haven’t been on a date in a million years, and it was just super romantic and cozy and relaxing, and he even made me a chocolate milk martini. So, I’m going to try not to overthink it, and just appreciate the nice day. He also hooked me up with an amazing meal you just had for dinner—and you should have seen the smile on Mumsy’s face at the restaurant. There was awaterfall. So, stop being pessimistic, Ellie, and just be happy for me. Something good happened to me, for once.”

“I’m happy for you, sweetie,” she says, walking over and squeezing my shoulders. “Just be careful, please? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“You got it, boss,” I tell her with a mock salute.

Ellie sighs. “Wash your hands and help me fold the laundry, for goodness’ sake.”

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