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“Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
I wave and head for the elevators. The ride up to the thirty-sixth floor feels like it takes hours, and I’ve never been so grateful to make it into a hotel room before.
I’m exhausted from an early morning flight and the three-hour practice. Climbing in bed and sleeping until this evening sounds like fuckingheaven, but I want to talk to June more than I want to relax.
I grab my phone and head to the window. I open the curtains and let the west coast sunshine flood the room. Just as I’m about to call Maven, a text from her pops up on my screen.
Maven
It’s dinnertime over here.
I might have ruined the chicken we were going to have, so we had some pasta delivered.
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A photo comes through, and I grin when I see it.
My kitchen looks like a war zone. June is in her booster seat, and there is tomato sauce all over her hands and face. Maven has her arm extended to take the photo, and she’s just as messy. There are drops of red on her neck, and the front of her white shirt is stained. She’s smiling from ear to ear, and half a spaghetti noodle is stuck to her cheek.
A laugh bursts out of me, and I’ve never called someone so fast in my life.
“Hey,” she answers on the second ring.
“Jesus, Maven. Did y’all even eat dinner, or did it go everywhere?”
“We might have made a little bit of a mess. I’ll make sure to clean it up before you get home, but I can’t promise you won’t be finding sauce in the crevices of the table for weeks.”
“JB looks like a murder suspect. It’s cute,” I say.
“Interesting use of the word cute. I didn’t know serial killers were your type.”
“The heart wants what the heart wants. Have y’all had a good day? Tell me what you did. Thanks for the pictures, by the way.”
“I didn’t send too many?” Maven asks. “I thought I might have gone overboard.”
“Not at all. Keep them coming.”
“Today was good. We went to the library and did story time. Then we stopped by the park, and June played in the splash pad. After our nap we took a walk around the neighborhood. Your daughter has an emotional support acorn now, by the way. I can’t get her to part with it.”
“Two weeks ago, she was obsessed with a rock. Now we’ve moved on to acorns. Kids are something else. Is she behaving?”
“She’s an angel. Do you want to talk to her? I can FaceTime you.”
“Do you mind? I’m so fucking tired, but I want to say goodnight before I take a nap.”
The screen goes black, then Maven’s face pops up. That noodle is still stuck on her cheek, and she doesn’t look the least bit worn out after a full day of chasing around a toddler. Her eyes are bright. Her smile is wide, and she looks fuckingbeautiful.
“There we go. How’s California?” she asks.
“Warm. Loud. Busy. I haven’t missed it at all.”
“Sounds exactly like D.C. only three thousand miles away.”
“I’m glad to see the apartment is still in one piece. What happened to the chicken?”
“I might have burned it. It’s no big deal. Just give me the Nanny of the Year award now. Speaking of…” The screen turns blurry, then I see June in her booster seat with red handprints all over her shirt. “Look who it is.”
“Hi, baby girl,” I say, and Maven flips the camera around so June can see me.
