Page 11 of Love Notes & Lifelines
“Mommy says Uncle Beck Daddy is vewy smawt.”
My lips curl up at her pronunciations. She’s a cutie.
“Um, how about just Uncle Beck. Or Beck,” he says absently, and my shoulders roll in while my face scrunches up on his behalf. “What? What did I say?” he whispers.
My gaze flicks back and forth from the road to his in the rearview mirror. I shrug, but his eyes plead with me for answers and my mouth opens without my permission.
“I don’t know exactly what’s happening here, but I’m guessing there’s a lot of f-e-a-r,” I spell out. “And a-n-x-i-e-t-y too. Too much change all at once probably isn’t good for them.”
Damn it, Stella. Why the heck do you have to help everyone?
“You know a lot about kids?”
I shrug but catch sight of the littlest one in the rearview mirror. She has her fist in her mouth and drool covering every inch of her.
“In college I nannied for a family with five kids, and in another life I was a kindergarten teacher,” I say. Insecurity and embarrassment over my past crash into me.
“What happened?” He sounds genuinely interested, but it’s probably because he could use any distraction he can find right now. Emmy sits with her attention on me in the mirror, but the baby is all up in his face and he’s struggling to hold her still. She’s a wild one.
I shrug. “It wasn’t enough money.” The lie almost rolls off my tongue now.
His brows furrow, and it takes a second longer for the scent of feces to hit the front seat, but when it does, I shudder. He’s probably wearing her leaky diaper. Beck gags and claws at the window button.
“What the hell is that?” he chokes out.
“Wuby pooped,” Emmy explains. She’s remarkably calm as I pull up to his building.
“That’s my name,” Emmy says excitedly, pointing at the sidewalk where giant mirrored letters stand tall. “H-a-y-e-s,” she spells.
His head whips in her direction. “It is?”
The little girl nods. “Just like Mommy.”
Beck remains silent.
“Very good, sweetheart,” I say to break the tension. “Um, why don’t I pull into Elijah’s parking space, and then I’ll help you get the girls upstairs?”
“Yes,” he blurts before I’ve even finished speaking.
Sweat beads at his hairline and a taut muscle in his neck twitches. Has he ever been around children? From the panic taking over his features, I’m guessing no. The SDH card crosses my mind, but I shut it down immediately. It’s against the rules to talk about my third job with anyone, and I desperately need that money. He’ll figure it out, or Elijah will tell him. I’m sure of it—mostly.
By the time I pull into the parking space, Ruby’s very unhappy, and she lets everyone know it. Beck leaps from the car, holding her in front of him with straight arms, and the sounds of Ruby’s cries echo uncomfortably against the concrete walls of the parking garage.
“What’s wrong with her? Is she hurt? Did I hurt her already?” Each word rises an octave higher than the last.
The fear in his tone pinches at my heart. I stare at him for a beat too long. He truly has no idea what to do. I make a mental note to create a list of emergency phone numbers for him, just in case.
“No, Be—ah, Mr. Hayes. She’s poopy. No one wants to sit in their own filth.”
“I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing here. Why would she do this to me?” He’s spinning in circles and talking to the ceiling, so I assume he isn’t expecting an answer from me.
Emmy sits perched on the edge of the back seat with her feet dangling out the car door. I take Ruby from Beck. At least the diaper didn’t leak. Then I lean down to talk to Emmy.
“Hey, sweetie. Have you seen the diaper bag?”
“Diaper bag?” Beck repeats in a near squeal. Perhaps this is all sinking in for him right now.
I throw him an expression I hope reads,calm the heck down, but end up rolling my eyes. He’s gripping his hair with both hands. Dramatic much? This man is rich enough to hire nannies around the clock. It’s not as though he’ll be the one personally taking care of them.
