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“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah… Jagger is just, well … he follows Jackson’s lead because he’s the oldest, so whatever he says, goes. And Jackson … he’s just … a little shit right now.”
I smiled, dripping of sarcasm. “I can’t wait.”
She laughed, rubbing Journey’s back. “I’m happy she’s happy.”
I nodded, looking down at piercing blues that reminded me of her daddy. “Girls against boys, yeah?”
She giggled, and I swear she gave me a slight wink.
For the next few hours, Skyler showed me around the house again, except this time she really went in depth about what I was responsible for.
Cleaning.
Keeping up with laundry.
Cooking.
Housekeeper duties with nanny obligations is what she told me.
Everything and anything when it came to the kids and absolutely nothing pertaining to Dr. Pierce or his wife. It was as if they didn’t exist, and I was beginning to wonder if they even did.
If it wasn’t for their bedroom I wasn’t allowed in, I’d think Skyler made them up. But I guess someone was floating the bills for this huge house and my salary which wasn’t cheap by any means.
I spent most of the morning resisting the urge to ask a bazillion questions about where they were. Instead, I refocused my attention on the kids and making their house a home.
Besides, I was sure my questions would be answered soon enough. At least I hoped they would.
Little Miss and I went right to work on cleaning the pigsty of a home she’d been living in. We started off in the bedrooms and slowly but surely moved our way around the house.
In between feedings and naps, Journey was with me. Hanging off this brand new, never opened kangaroo pouch thing I found in her closet. She loved every second of the fast-paced day we were leading to get the house cleaned.
My goal was to have it spic and span so I could focus on the laundry tomorrow, and still have time to fix dinner for the boys, before I left for the night.
Prioritizing was a must.
Sometime in the afternoon, Skyler ran out to do some errands, letting me know she’d be back before the boys were home from school. We waved her off and continued on our mission.
“Alright, Miss Thang,” I said to Journey, pulling her out of the pouch on my chest. “How about we kick up the mood around here?”
She excitingly kicked her legs. “Gah!”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I set her in her glider in the living room, grabbed my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, and plugged it into the radio.
After figuring out how to work the thing, I hit play on my cleaning playlist, and house music by Eddie Thoneick blared off the speakers in the open room between us.
Journey instantly started giggling and babbling, and once again, I swear she started shaking her booty like me. The girl was after my very own heart.
“Oh, I see you, gurl! You like to dance, huh?” I grabbed her chubby little arms, clapping her hands together to the beat of the tune. “Like this.” Rocking my hips, left to right, I twirled around in a body roll for her.
She beamed.
“That’s the washing machine move. Stick with me, Little Miss, and your milkshake will bring all the boys to the yard.”
She fell into a fit of giggles, throwing her head back.
