He holds up the bucket and gives me a soft smile.
“Ready to do this?”
My kids trail behind Jesse as he makes his way into the kitchen to inspect the crime scene. He opens the pantry door to survey its sparse contents and a single moth escapes, narrowly missing him.
“Okay,” he says. “Normally there are a few salvageable things in a moth-infested pantry. But since everything is expired, we’ll toss it all and start fresh.” He puts his hands on his hips and turns to my kids with a serious expression. “This is a big job, though, and I’m going to need a couple of assistants. Are you two available to help?”
Isla and Levi nod enthusiastically, and Jesse gives them athumbs-up. He reaches into the bucket and extracts a couple sets of rubber kitchen gloves, then hands a pair to each kid. They’re cartoonishly large on their tiny hands and probably overkill for the task at hand, but they’re delighted, nonetheless.
I settle onto a barstool, happy to play spectator in this operation. Not just because moths are gross, but also because it affords me a spectacular view of my carpenter turned exterminator. I bite down on my bottom lip, watching his biceps flex as he gathers his supplies.Good god, this man is attractive.
Okay, I admit it. I am developing a bit of a crush. But is that so terrible? It’s not like I’m going to act on it or anything. Besides, we’re only here for the summer. Why shouldn’t I enjoy every one of the scenic views?
“Isla, you’re the oldest, which means you’re up first,” Jesse says. My daughter beams. She loves when people give her the birth-order recognition she feels entitled to.
Jesse shakes open a large kitchen bag and stretches it out like a basketball hoop. “On my count, you’re going to open the pantry, grab an item from inside, and throw it into my trash bag. Are you ready?”
Isla nods, her face set with determination.
“Three… two… one… go!”
Isla races to the pantry and sticks her hand inside. When a couple of moths fly out, she shrieks but still manages to grab a bag of flour. She hurls it in Jesse’s direction, sending a thin streak of white powder into the air. The gloves throw off her aim, but Jesse moves nimbly to catch it in his trash bag.
“She shoots, she scores!”
Isla pumps a victorious fist and my heart swells.There’s my girl.How I’ve missed her. The past few weeks have been rough and seeing her happy feels like a warm hug.
From the pantry doorway, Jesse’s eyes lock on mine and hegrins. Beneath the stubble, two creases bracket his mouth, framing those spectacular lips. My stomach swoops.
Levi is bouncing on the balls of his feet as he watches, his excitement growing.
“Me next! My turn!” he yells. His enthusiasm takes me aback. It’s not like him to get comfortable with a stranger so quickly, but his earlier anxiety has melted away. I guess Jesse has that effect on everyone in the family.
Jesse gives him the countdown and then Levi grabs an old tin of cookies. The lid is not tight enough, and when he hurls it across the room, a few cookies fly out and spill onto the floor. He swings his gaze to me, his eyes wide with worry, waiting for my reaction. My sweet baby. Always so hard on himself. So afraid of making a mistake.
“It’s okay.” I hold his gaze and smile to reassure him. “We have a broom. Keep going, you’re doing great!”
Levi’s shoulders sag with relief. Satisfied, he goes back to the pantry to grab another item.
“I’ll get everything cleaned up. I won’t leave you with a mess,” Jesse tells me quietly.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just grateful for your help.” I mean it: I couldn’t care less about a few crumbs. What I care about is how the energy in this house has shifted.Thisis how I envisioned the summer. Carefree and fun. A time when my kids can just be kids. They’re starting to relax, which means I can relax too. And Jesse has played no small part in that.
Though I had pictured fewer winged creatures in the house.
For extra reassurance, I throw in a reference to one of Isla’s favorite movies. “Besides, they’re making core memories.”
Jesse huffs out a laugh and his face splits into a wide grin. A web of endearing laugh lines forms in the corner of each eye.
“Absolutely,” he agrees. “For the rest of their lives, they’ll remember that summer at the lake house when they cleared moths out of the pantry with some random dude.”
“You’re not some ‘random dude.’ You’re amazing.” The words sound weightier than I intended, and Jesse’s eyes widen with surprise. I’m surprised too. After years of media training, I’m normally more reticent. But I meant what I said. The kindness he showed my kids when they were afraid has evoked a feeling deeper than gratitude. Something I can’t quite put my finger on yet.
He holds my gaze for a long beat, until Isla comes over to announce they’ve finished clearing the pantry, and he turns away to give her his full attention.
After checking their work, Jesse extracts a glass spray bottle from his bucket.
“Next up, we spray down the shelves with cleaner.” He unscrews the spray top and holds it under Isla’s nose.
