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Tommy nodded, but he still seemed upset. I sighed and followed the kids out of the house and across the yard. We stepped up to Mrs. Johnston’s door, and Sarah rang the bell.
“Hello there!” Mrs. Johnston said when she answered the door. “I’m so excited to hang out with you both today!”
“Do you have anything to eat?” Sarah asked.
“Sarah,” I said warningly.
“There’s muffins on the counter,” Mrs. Johnston said with a smile. “Go on in.”
Sarah and Tommy both ran into the house and disappeared into the kitchen. I just shook my head and smiled at Mrs. Johnston.
“Thank you for doing this,” I said. “They aren’t too happy with me for letting Emily go.”
“I can’t say I blame them,” she said severely. “Emily is a wonderful girl. I’m not too happy with you myself.”
“There were just some things that wouldn’t have worked,” I said, feeling suddenly defensive.
“It’s none of my business,” Mrs. Johnston said, holding her hand up to silence me. “That’s just my two cents.”
“Well, I really appreciate your help today,” I said.
“Anytime.”
I left and Mrs. Johnston slowly closed the door behind me. It was hard enough having my own kids hate me, but for Mrs. Johnston to disapprove of my decision? I suddenly felt a wave of regret wash over me, but I forced it away. There was nothing I could do about it now. Emily was gone.
As I walked back inside my house, I checked the time. I only had ten minutes before the first interview was scheduled so I brewed a pot of coffee and poured myself a mug. Just then the doorbell rang, and I hurried forward to answer it.
There was a tall, skinny woman on the front steps. She was wearing workout clothes, and her hair was pulled back in a wet bun. Her face was covered in sweat, and she was jogging in place, bouncing up and down on my front porch.
I was confused. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Tamara,” she said with a smile. “I’m here to interview for the nanny position.”
I was instantly annoyed by this bouncing woman on my porch, but since I’d let Emily go, I didn’t have much choice but to invite her in.
My thoughts were jumbled from her constant movement. “Can you stand still?” I said irritably. “You’re distracting me.”
She stopped jogging in place, but the air around her still seemed to vibrate with energy. I found it intensely irritating.
“How long have you been involved in child care?” I asked.
“Not long,” she said honestly. “Until lately, I’ve been a personal trainer.”
I frowned. “Why did you change careers?”
“I decided children needed my support more than adults,” she said. “Are you aware of the childho
od obesity rate in the United States? It’s high. Too high. I aim to rectify that, one child at a time.”
I raised an eyebrow at her and she continued.
“I came up with a workout regimen that works great with kids,” she said. “I’ll have your kids whipped into shape in no time!”
“My kids don’t need to be ‘whipped into shape,’” I said.
“Oh, but they do!” she said with a little too much enthusiasm. “You don’t realize it, but this age is crucial for their development. If they don’t create healthy exercise habits now, they never will.”
“All right,” I said, standing. “I’ve heard all I need to.”
