Page 42 of Nanny for the Protector

Cara patted Lucy on the back. “I’m sorry, kiddo. We can rebuild it.”

Lucy continued to laugh and snuggled into the crook of Cara’s arm. It did something to me, seeing my daughter feel so comfortable with and close to another adult, particularly a woman. In that moment, I realized it wasn’t just Lucy who was developing feelings for Cara.

I should have known then things were going to get complicated.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to rebuild while I work on dinner.” I held up the bags. “I’ve got all the fixings for a fiesta right here.”

Lucy pushed the blankets off her. “Ooh! Can I help?”

“Are you abandoning the fort, then?”

Cara waved her hand. “Lucy, go ahead and help your dad. I’ll fold up the blankets and put them away.”

“No, Cara, she should help clean up.”

Cara gave me a look. “It’s not every day she gets to help her dad make dinner.”

She was right about that. “Okay. Follow me, Lucy. But I’m doing all the cutting!”

“Got it!”

We left Cara in the living room and started on the tacos. Lucy was always an amazing sous-chef, especially for her age, and tonight was no different. I left her to do all the stirring and mixing while I did the cutting. But she was done with all of that quickly, leaving her at my elbow, begging to use the knife.

“I’ll let you help, but we have to do it together, okay?”

Lucy nodded and dragged her kitchen stool beside me. She stood up on the stool triumphantly, now at an appropriate level to cook at the counter. “Alright. What do I do?”

Just then, Cara walked in, wrapping her sweater around her. Her eyes were more tired than usual, but she wore a serene smile. Even tired, she still looked beautiful. “Ooh…getting in on the chopping action, I see. You’re a big girl, huh, Lucy?”

I half laughed. “Don’t remind me.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No, Cara, you sit. Relax.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Please, there must be something I can do.”

I smiled and shook my head. “No. Nothing. I’m in charge tonight. Open a bottle of wine for us, yeah?”

Cara moved to the wine fridge. “What kind?”

“Your pick.”

“If it’s up to me, I’m going to end up picking something super expensive.”

I shrugged. “That’s just fine with me.”

Cara shook her head. “I’m not used to that.”

I didn’t grow up with a ton of money, but I was often reminded of how fast it had become the norm. I was used to not worrying about the prices of things nowadays. It was quite a blessing that I didn’t often reflect on.

As Cara picked out a bottle of wine, I guided Lucy through the mechanics of chopping vegetables. “Never stick your fingers out. You want your knuckles to be up like this.” I let her hands rest on mine as we chopped a tomato. “Cut away from you. See?”

“Yeah.”

“You feel how the knife is moving?”

“Mm-hmm.”

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