Page 158 of The Nanny and the Hothead
“And what about Oscar?” Penny asked. “Camp ends in a few days.”
A knot twisted in her belly at the mention of the boy. “I can’t imagine not being in his life. I love him. I love them both.”
“What about the workshop? Have you made a decision?” Libby pressed.
She glanced at her phone to check the time. It was nine thirty. That meant it was four thirty in London. “I have thirty minutes to decide. I have to let them know by ten o’clock mountain time. That’s five p.m. in London.”
“What’s your heart telling you to do?” Libby asked.
“I’m not sure,” Charlotte replied, staring at her phone, willing the answer to come, when a text from her father flashed on the screen, and she gasped.
“My dad messaged me,” she said, hardly able to believe her eyes as she showed her friends.
Dad: We’re planning to go on a cruise next week and wanted to see what your schedule looked like.
“Wow, Char! The universe threw a real wrench into your life,” Libby said, wide-eyed.
“No kidding,” Harper added.
Charlotte stared at the screen, unable to recall the last time her father had invited her to do anything—let alone join his family on a trip! The most he’d done in years was reply to her messages with a thumbs-up. No words—simply a weak acknowledgment. Her mouth grew dry, and she chugged what was left of her coffee. It had gone cold, and a shiver worked its way down her spine.
“How will you reply?” Penny asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t know. But I should at least thank him for thinking of me.” Her heart pounding, she hammered out a quick reply.
Charlotte: I’m grateful you’d want to include me on a trip. Thank you for reaching out!
Dots rippled less than a second after she’d hit send. Could this be a new beginning for her and her dad? It had to be a good sign, right?
Wrong.
Dad: Sorry for the confusion. Our usual house sitter is booked. I wanted to see if you could come to Kentucky and take care of the dogs and water the plants while we’re gone.
“Oh, Char! I’m sorry, honey,” Penny said, reading over her shoulder.
Charlotte scrutinized the reply. If her father had sent this text three months ago, she would have jumped at the opportunity. She would have been elated with the tiniest crumb of attention. She would have already been halfway to Kentucky.
But she wasn’t that person anymore.
Her thoughts shifted to Oscar. She pictured his toothy grin—Mitch’s grin. The boy had his mother’s chestnut-colored hair and his father’s piercing blue eyes. And she loved this boy. She loved him the way her father had never loved her. She loved him like he was her own.
A question formed in her mind.
What would Holly want for her son?
The woman had loved the boy fiercely. She could tell from not only the photographs dotting the cabin’s refrigerator but from the compassionate, loving boy she’d raised.
What kind of woman would Holly want to influence her son’s life? What lessons would she want Oscar to learn?
Charlotte ignored the text and peered across the street at Professor Tran’s gallery. And in the morning light, her torrent of thoughts quieted as one truth emerged.
She couldn’t say if she and Mitch would find a way to be together. It was up to him to decide if he’d choose a life that centered on the pain of his past or pick the path that led to a future with her. But with him or without him, there was one way forward for her. She’d gone back to the beginning and had emerged clear-eyed. And she knew what lesson she’d want Oscar to learn from her.
The lesson of love. Self-love.
She had to love herself. She couldn’t tether her worth to others’ opinions. She had to believe in her abilities. And she had to follow her heart. Yes, she loved Mitch. And yes, she wanted to be with him. But real love, the kind she’d want Oscar to know, came from within.
That’s the woman Holly would want her to be. She knew it with every fiber of her being.
