Page 12 of One Pucking Life

I cross my arms over my stomach, trying to hold in the nausea. Acid burns the back of my throat, and sweat beads along my hairline. My daughter isdelightedwith her new toy, but I can’t—nope—this isn’t happening.

This woman could be Mary freaking Poppins, and I still couldn’t do it. I might be desperate, but I draw the line here. I will buy Caroline every sensory toy on the market—made of plastic—as the good Lord intended.But not this.

Never this.

I jump up from the couch. “Well! Thank you for coming! We’ll be in touch!” I scoop Caroline out of her lap so fast.

“Are you sure?” the woman asks, looking confused.

“Positive,” I say, already halfway to the door.

Logan jumps up and gets there first, swinging it open with a bright, too-big smile. “Thank you so much for coming,” he says, his voice almost singsong. “Drive safe!”

She stands in front of the doorway for a second, glancing between the two of us like she’s not quite sure what just happened. Caroline reaches toward the woman, and I pull her arm back before she can grab at the love nub again. I tighten my grip on her, stepping back instinctively.

“So we have a couple more interviews today, and we’ll let you know,” I say.

The woman nods slowly. “Well, great. You have my number.”

“That we do,” Logan says, still smiling. “Bye!”

I elbow him, warning him to keep his cool.

She finally turns and heads out the door toward the porch stairs, her sensible shoes squeaking with every step. Logan shuts the door behind her the second she crosses the threshold, leans his back against it, and lets out a low whistle.

“Well,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That was… something.”

I lean against the wall with a groan, Caroline resting against my chest, mercifully distracted by my hoodie strings now. “I thought I was gonna puke.”

“I thoughtyouwere gonna puke,” Logan agrees. “And then I was gonna puke. It was gonna be a whole thing.”

I let my head fall back, staring up at the ceiling. “I am so screwed.”

Logan claps a reassuring hand on my arm. “Nah. We’ve got a few more interviews today. One of them has gotta be normal.”

I glance at him deadpan. “That’s what Jaden and I thought last time.”

He smirks. “We’ll find someone.”

“Fingers crossed the next one doesn’t come with a built-in chew toy.” I press my lips together, fighting a laugh.

Logan chuckles. “You’re going to hell.”

I shrug. “Yeah, and you’ll be riding shotgun.”

I’m still shaking my head when the doorbell rings again.

Logan gives me a look. “Round two?”

I sigh and straighten up, adjusting Caroline in my arms. “Let’s get this over with.”

I open the door to find a young woman standing there. Early twenties, wearing a tight top and jeans that are more rips than fabric. Her blond hair is in a high ponytail, and her nails are painted bright pink. She’s holding her phone in one hand.

“Hi! I’m Brittani. With an I.” She beams.

“Come in,” I say, stepping aside.

She practically bounces into the house, her eyes going wide. “Whoa. This place issick. Oh my God, is that real marble?” She taps the hallway table with her fingernail like she’s inspecting it for resale.

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