Page 23 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
“About what? DoIthink they’d be too young? Or do I think he should be leery of having a teenage girl live with him?”
It wasn’t clear to me whether Cinda wanted my professional opinion on childcare qualifications or a moral judgment. I felt qualified to give neither.
“No silly.” Cinda laughed. “What aboutyoutaking the position as the Reece girls’ full-time nanny? At least while you’re trying to figure out what to do next. Sully needs help immediately since the kids are out of school for the summer, and he has a title fight coming up in a few months. He needs to train for it. He didn’t mention how much he’d be willing to pay, but I’m sure the salary would be generous. He said money is no object. Those little girls are the most important thing in the world to him.”
“I don’t know… I’d still have to find a place to live.”
“No, you wouldn’t. A lot of Eastport Bay families have live-in nannies. I’ve been in his house—it’s gorgeous, and there’s more than enough room. I bet you’d have your own suite.”
“I’ve never been a nanny before.”
Cinda waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.
“You’re a natural fit for it, and he’s already seen how you interact with them. You’d be helping those little girls in addition to Sullivan. You could work there this summer, gather a little nest egg for yourself, and then you’d really be able to make a sound decision about what to do with your life. If your mom does pull a Mrs. Havisham act and cut you off from the family fortune, you’d at least have first and last month’s rent saved and maybe even tuition for your first year at community college.”
She lifted her phone from the small table between our chairs. “I could give him a call right now. I know he’d be thrilled.”
It all sounded so sensible. And yet, I couldn’t imagine actually taking the leap, telling my mother I’d changed my mind, moving in with a family of strangers—with Sullivan Reece of all people. It would never work.
“No. Don’t do that. I’m sorry. You’re so kind to try to think of a solution for me, but this just isn’t it. Maybe it’s not as big or permanent a decision as committing to a religious vocation, but it’s still… big. It’s too much. I’m not the right person for the job.”
Cinda’s exuberant posture sagged. “Well, all right, if you’re positive. I don’t want to be another person coercing you into doing what they think is right for you. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and caused myself some undue hardship and pain. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that someone else’s dream will never be a good fit for you. I believe youwillfigure yours out though.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. And I appreciate you letting me talk through this more than you’ll ever know.” I stood. “I’m afraid I have to go now. I feel like I could talk to you for hours and hours.”
Cinda stood as well, surprising me by embracing me in a warm hug.
“I feel the same about you. You have such a sweet heart. And I want you to keep something in mind, especially as you go back home and deal with your mom—no matter how dark and murky things may look, there’s always a way through. Just trust that, and a solution will present itself. And remember I’m here if you need me.”
* * *
Dark and murky were the perfect descriptors for my thoughts as I left the Wessex mansion and walked through the back yard toward the Bluff Walk.
It had been one thing when my doubts were knocking quietly at the edges of my mind. Now they’d burst to the forefront, demanding to be dealt with.
How was I ever going to talk to Mother about this? But how could I hold my tongue and go through with the plans to enter full-time religious service when I felt so uncertain?
A high-pitched squeal pierced my troubled thoughts. A shrieking laugh followed it. The sounds were coming from the next yard over.
Sullivan Reece’s yard.
As if pulled by a giant super magnet, I moved toward the happy sounds. Finding a spot in the hedge that was thinner than the rest, I drew near and peeked through it.
On the other side, the two Reece girls danced around the edge of a large swimming pool, jumping in and out of the water like a pair of penguins.
“Be careful,” a deep voice warned. “I don’t want you to slip.”
Sullivan.
I shifted so I could see the rest of the pool. He was treading water in the deep end. In spite of the idyllic setting, he looked and sounded stressed out.
As Cinda had mentioned, dark circles underscored the airy-blue eyes. His voice was rough with exhaustion.
“Don’t run!” he yelled then moderated his volume. “Please. The stone is wet. You could really hurt your heads if you fall.”
As usual, his daughters did not listen to him. The smaller one darted in one direction while the older girl ran off in the other.
“No running,” he pleaded.
