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ONE
KIRSTEN
Kirsten Belew had loved her job working at the preschool for the last five years. Living in the small northwestern Colorado community was cozy and quaint but also incredibly easy. Despite the fact that she enjoyed her life and job there, it was not at all challenging.
Like many people who lived around her, Kirsten had adjusted to a life of routine and, thus, comfort. During the week, she woke up around six, got a good hearty breakfast in, went to work, came home for dinner, entertained herself with a book or television show, and then went to sleep. Rinse and repeat.
The weekends were days meant to prepare for the weekly cycle. Kirsten would sometimes visit friends, go out for dinner, see a movie, try to exercise if society pressured her enough, and shop for her weekly meals. She was incredibly organized, which made her days fly by even more smoothly.
It was during the autumn of her fifth year at the preschool when Kirsten started to notice the stale nature of her life. Sure, routine and comfort were all fine and dandy, and some people loved settling into that kind of life for an eternity. She didn’t think any less of the other teachers around her who had done the same, but she was starting to wonder if it wasn’t for her anymore.
Kirsten had been eating meatloaf that week for dinner and, sometimes, even for lunch, along with a hefty dose of cooked vegetables. While on her lunch break, she was looking at the meatloaf in its container, and she started to forget what day it was.
She didn’t need excitement at every turn, but there was often a dull ache she felt when she saw the children being picked up by one or both of their parents, ready to head home and indulge in the lifestyle she had nearly forgotten about.
Kirsten wanted a family, despite scoffing at the idea of dating whenever her married and attached friends made the suggestion. Most of her friends lived in Denver, the big city, which felt like light years away as she sat and read her book in the dim lighting of her bedroom. She loved sitting in bed with her peppermint tea, but she also wanted to know what it was like to have someone asking her about what she was reading.
On Friday, after eating the meatloaf all week, forgetting what month it was, and feeling the sting of longing grow keener as she watched mothers and fathers pick up their children, Kirsten decided to change up her routine altogether.
She placed her book down on the bed and hopped onto her laptop, which was sitting in the living room, neatly plugged into the charger for the night. She ripped the cord out of the laptop, almost defiantly, and then began looking up jobs in the city.
The small town didn’t have much to offer in relation to Kirsten’s early childhood education degree. She had come directly out of school and found the preschool. She liked how convenient it was in proximity to her apartment. The pay was decent, and it definitely wasn’t a difficult job.
But those were all of the same reasons why Kirsten wanted out.
After searching for nearly an hour, she discovered an intriguing ad. A man by the name of Henry Kaplan, who appeared to be exceedingly wealthy, was looking for a full-time nanny to help him take care of his ten-week-old daughter. He lived in the mountains, which were only about an hour’s drive away.
The idea was too mysterious to many of the people in the town where Kirsten lived. Most of them had heard a lot of stories and gossip about the area bordering on the supernatural. But the prospect of going somewhere new and walking into a mystical land of wonders made Kirsten’s heart pick up its pace for the first time in years.
It told her to take the leap, and she did. She sent the stranger a message at nearly midnight.
He replied the first thing the next day, which told her that he was indeed desperate. So she informed the preschool that she was taking leave, packed some things for a temporary stay, and headed into the mountains.
The manor that she arrived at looked truly cinematic. Kirsten had never seen something so large and detailed other than in movies. She wore her best suit, gray with a pastel pink blouse, and had straightened her long black hair for the interview.
She didn’t often have a reason to dress up, but she did for the possibility of a new job.
She pressed the doorbell nervously, then heard the sound of a deep voice that seemed to run up her spine in rivets.
“One moment!”
It must have been Henry because a few seconds later, a man, who nearly crashed his forehead into the doorframe, greeted her with a quick swing of the door.
“Hi there, sorry,” he said softly. “I was just getting Zara changed.”
For the first time in years, Kirsten felt alive, which simultaneously made her feel mournful about the bland life she had been living. The man was not only huge, but he had a dark complexion, curly strawberry blonde hair that looked coppery red in the morning light, and dazzling green eyes that looked like gems on a dead sea.
She gulped and had to shake her head to bring herself back into the moment.
“It’s okay,” she said directly. “I’m Kirsten Belew, the nanny ...”
Henry smiled, then held out his hand to her. He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that outlined this tree trunk arms flawlessly. She tried not to stare as he held her for a moment, looking into her eyes like he had known her for years.
“I’m so glad that you’re here,” he said softly. “Unfortunately, I’m a little desperate.”
Kirsten couldn’t say anything more. She simply nodded, stepped inside, and removed her jacket. He helped her with it, and the light touch from his fingertips was enough to make her knees weak.
“I hope I can be of some help,” she muttered.
