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“Mr. Hale?”
My wife never set foot in the kitchen once it was done to her exact specifications. Well, except for when she was uncorking some rosé from the Zephryr dual temperature-controlled wine refrigerator. Jeez, I think that alone retailed for fourteen hundred dollars.
“His name is Leo like a lion,” Olivia corrects her.
“Uh, Leo?”
“Sorry, my mind drifted for a second there. What were you saying?”
“Just that if you don’t mind, and that if I’m going to be coming by in the afternoons sometimes, I’d like to start teaching Olivia how to cook.”
“She’s four.”
Skylar smiles. “I’m not talking cheese souffle or anything, just the basics. It’s amazing the things kids will eat when they have a hand in preparing it.”
“I love to cook!” Olivia says this while looking up at Skylar as if Snow White herself has landed right here in our very own kitchen.
I can feel the worry lines forming on my forehead.
What if Olivia gets too attached? What if this doesn’t work out? What does this Skylar know about my baby? Nothing, that’s what. She doesn’t know that Olivia still cries for her mother, a woman she couldn’t possibly have any memory of knowing.
“Be right back!” Olivia chirps as she scoots off her chair and heads for the stairs.
“Mr. Hale, I won’t let her handle knives or leave her unsupervised. I just thought,” she looks behind her to the counter where I’ve foolishly left out the selection of sugary cereals Olivia prefers, “you might want her to develop a love of good foods.”
“Call me Leo.”
“All right.”
“And the cooking thing would be great. I haven’t had much success in that department.”
She looks back to the stairs. “Before she comes down, can you just give me a little background about your situation…Like, is her mother in the picture?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course not. It’s just that if she brings something up in conversation, I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.”
I feel like I’m choking on the words when I answer, “No, her mother isn’t in the picture. At all.”
Skylar looks relieved to be done with that awkward exchange when Olivia bounds back into the kitchen full speed with something in her hand. “I did this. You look like the pea princess in my book.”
“This is a beautiful drawing. I don’t think I know the pea princess.”
I clarify, “The Princess and the Pea.”
Skylar’s eyes go wide in recognition. “Oh, right. I used to love that story.” Looking to Olivia, she says, “Maybe we can read it together next time.”
“Now,” Olivia decrees, looking to me as her humble servant. I guess this is where I’m supposed to hop to it and retrieve the book.
“Libby, your dad and I have to figure out what days I’ll be coming to see you this week and then we’ll plan what we’re going to do then. Sound good? You want to look at the calendar with us?”
“Sure!”
Skylar grabs a sheet of paper from her bag and hands it to me. “This is my class schedule. I’m pretty flexible outside of that except for Thursday nights. I have a club practice that I can’t miss unless it’s an emergency.” When Olivia starts looking through the set of alphabet cards sitting at the top of the bag, Skylar leans in and whispers, “I mean, I don’t want to assume or anything but—”
“No, you’re hired.”
How’s that for sounding desperate?
