Page 34 of Puck Your Nanny

Nate wipes his hands on his jeans and nods. "I’ll order pizza."

Calvin perks up. "Get the stuffed crust."

Peter rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest as Nate pulls out his phone.

I settle onto the couch, stretching my legs out. Calvin drops onto the seat beside me, his arm draping casually over the back of the couch. His presence is easy, comfortable. I lean into him slightly, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine.

Nate finishes the order and tosses his phone onto the coffee table. "Should be here in about forty-five minutes."

Peter sits in the armchair across from us, his long fingers tapping against his knee. His sharp, calculating eyes soften as he watches me. "You doing okay? It’s been a long day."

I nod. "I’m good. Just a lot to go through."

Calvin nudges my shoulder. "At least we got a fondue maker out of it."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Yeah, real prize there."

Peter smirks. "If I see it gathering dust in a month, I’m throwing it out."

I press a hand to my chest in mock offense. "I will use it. Just you wait."

Nate rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk in amusement. "Alright, let’s take a break while we wait for the food."

I sink deeper into the cushions, my body relaxing as the weight of the day settles into my bones. The house still carries the ghosts of Nate’s father, of Stacey, of a past that feels distant yet ever-present. But here, surrounded by them, I feel grounded. Safe.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel alone.

As we wait for the pizza, the four of us take a much-needed break. Will is on the floor, batting at the crinkle toy in his tiny fist, babbling softly to himself. Calvin and I sit on the couch, his arm resting along the back behind me, while Peter lounges in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other. Nate finishes tossing a few empty boxes into the pile for donation before dropping down beside me on the other side, his weight sinking the cushion beneath us.

Calvin stretches his legs out, cracking his knuckles. "So, about that fondue maker. You ever made fondue before?"

I shake my head, amused. "No, but now I kind of want to try. Could be fun."

Nate snorts. "Or a disaster. You do realize fondue involves molten cheese, right? I don’t trust Calvin not to turn this into a fire hazard."

Calvin feigns offense, pressing a hand to his chest. "Excuse me, but I happen to have excellent control over my culinary skills."

Peter smirks from his armchair, adjusting his glasses. "You nearly set the kitchen on fire making garlic bread."

Calvin waves a dismissive hand. "That was one time, and I maintain that the broiler was faulty. Anyway, fondue sounds like a good date night activity. Picture it: candles, wine, melted chocolate."

I glance between them, grinning. "That does sound nice. Maybe we should try it."

Nate nudges my knee. "You sure you’re ready to witness whatever monstrosity Calvin turns fondue into?"

Calvin scoffs. "I’m sensing a lot of doubt in my abilities here. I’ll have you all know that when I commit to something, I make it work."

Peter raises a brow. "Like the time you 'committed' to making homemade pasta and ended up covered in flour for an hour?"

Calvin groans, tipping his head back against the couch. "Why do you all remember the failures and not my successes?"

I laugh, leaning against Nate slightly. "Because your failures are more entertaining."

Calvin grumbles under his breath, but there’s amusement in his eyes. He tugs me closer into his side, and I let myself settle between him and Nate, their warmth surrounding me. The teasing continues as we debate the logistics of making fondue without burning the house down, the banter keeping the mood light as we enjoy this rare moment of stillness.

My phone buzzes. I glance down at the screen.

Freda:

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