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“The girls are waiting,” Mason snapped at our brother, and then he averted his stare because I shot him a look of warning. “Unless you want to rest for a bit, and I understand that too. I’ll leave it up to you.”
“No, it’s fine.” Her voice shook with a nervousness that I could easily pick up on. “We can get the tough part out of the way.”
She wiped her hands on the front of her jeans, and my immediate reaction was to lean into her and tell her not to be nervous.
When she smiled, it lit up her whole face, and it lightened my insides.
I scratched at my day-old stubble, wishing I had shaved today. And suddenly, I felt underdressed as I glanced down at my jeans and fitted shirt. I should have worn something more professional even though we were having the interview at home.
Becky followed Mason and Brad to our dining room, where Mary had set up a station of stuffed animals on the long glass table and where Sarah sat right beside her with her journal.
“Girls,” Patty began, motioning to Becky beside her, “this is Becky, my friend.”
Patty beckoned the girls over, and after they approached, they each shook Becky’s hand.
The way Becky’s face lit up had me inching forward. Her smile was infectious, and I found the corner of my mouth tugging upward.
“Patty has told me tons about you girls.” She ducked down, placing her hands on her knees, getting into the girls’ line of sight, shrinking to their mini sizes. “That you, Mary, love everything slime and Play-Doh, that you especially love making food from it.”
Then, she turned to my overly cautious Sarah. With one look, I could tell my daughter was already assessing her.
“And you love Minecraft, Legos, and journaling.”
“I do like building things,” Sarah responded, sporting a cautious smile.
“And I also like to play doctor,” Mary piped up, getting in Becky’s face, obviously wanting all the attention back on her.
“That’s amazing, Mary. I love taking care of people, so I consider myself a pseudo doctor of sorts.” She winked.
I took in their interaction, which was natural, different from this past weekend, where the interaction between the kids and potential nannies had seemed forced, rehearsed.
For the first time since this wholefinding a new nannydebacle had started, a sliver of hope pushed through.
When Mary took Becky’s hand in hers, I knew that she’d already won my daughter. But Sarah’s quiet demeanor told me she wasn’t exactly sold yet.
Patty motioned to the seats at the dining table. “Let’s get started, shall we? Piggy and Teddy Monster and Pooh want to ask you questions, Miss Becky.”
Mary sat at the head of the table, sitting on her knees so she was taller. She hadn’t done this with the other candidates, as their interviews had been more formal. But she’d voiced her opinion about interviewing Becky. Mason, of course, was against it, but Brad always—sometimes excessively—accommodated every little wish of Mary’s.
Becky sat right by Mary as we all took our seats. I was opposite of Becky. Brad was beside me and then Mason. Somehow, we always ended up sitting in birth order, as though we subconsciously knew our place.
Mary raised her fluffy pink stuffed pig. “Piggy wants to know what you know how to cook and what you’ll be feeding us.”
“Well, funny enough, cooking is one of my specialties.” Becky smiled.
The corner of my lips tipped up. My eyes flickered to her shimmering lips again, and I shifted in my seat, an unease filling my chest because …
Shit,I am checking out the nanny.
“What do you like to cook?” To my surprise, the question fell from my mouth.
Everyone’s eyes turned toward me. The last few interviews, I hadn’t said a word, mostly because Mason and Brad led them all. I had simply observed.
I cleared my throat. “The girls don’t have allergies, so that’s a good thing. I know there are a ton of kids at their school who have allergies, and that’s tough, so I’m glad our girls don’t have any.” And now, I was rambling, and I didn’t ramble normally.
All eyes were on me still, as though I’d grown an extra set of ears.
I tipped my chin toward Mason. “Mason is pretty strict with their diet, so I don’t have to be. Do you want to go through your restrictions?” I adjusted the collar of my shirt, feeling heat creeping up my neck.
