Page 29 of Mr. Wolfe's Nanny

“I never knew Ryder was so talented when it came to art,” he says during one late-night conversation when he’s working extra late.

“I’m afraid art for boys can be like STEM for girls sometimes. People try to assign us to those roles they’ve got in their head based on gender so early and it’s ridiculous. Why can’t a boy love art? Why can’t a girl love science? And, I think sketching is therapeutic for him. Did you see the counselor’s message about how less often Ryder was being disruptive in class or growing angry over small things?”

Theo’s silent for several seconds. Have I overstepped somehow? Or does he share those old gender biases when it comes to his son?

But when he speaks, I know he’s not upset at all. “I think you’re right about it helping.” I breathe a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing now?” he asks next, his voice dipping lower. “I know you’ve already tucked the kids in.” My breath catches in my throat.

“Um… I was lying in bed reading when you called.” I’m in my pajamas, the lights are out. My bed is warm and comfortable. My face grows hot. There’s something about admitting I was in bed when we’re speaking this way that makes me a little embarrassed. And a little horny.

There’s a quiet noise, almost like a growl. Maybe I imagined that. “What are you reading?”

I tell him but I’m distracted by the sound of fabric rustling now. “What are you doing?” I ask, curious.

“Taking this damn tie off and rolling up my sleeves. It’s warm in here.”

“Here, too.” Damn, the horny feelings are getting stronger just thinking about Theo’s forearms, imagining his hair a bit disheveled after a long day and picturing what I could do to relax him.Calm down, Quinn.

We talk for a few more minutes and he says he’ll be home by midnight. When the call ends, I don’t pick my book back up. My hand is busy elsewhere.

∞∞∞

Admittedly, Theo and I speak more often than Isa typically speaks to the father of Lucas, her employer. Not so strange considering, right? Theo’s a widower while Lucas’s mom is very much around and more involved with her son’s nanny than her husband. And, Isa doesn’t live in their household, unlike me.

“It does sound like you two are close,” Isa comments when we’re chatting on the phone a few days later.

“Yeah, well… maybe.” I’ll admit to myself that I want to be close to Theo. “Are you still plotting your Caribbean escape after Christmas?” I ask to switch subjects.

“Hell yeah, I am. Jessica, Tessa and Meg are all in. Now, it’s just you I’m lacking.”

“I’m not going on a singles’ cruise, Isa. I’m not planning a vacation at all.”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be so much fun.”

Maybe it would be but I don’t want to go. Partly, because I don’t think the cruise crowd and my anxiety issues will mix well and partly… because I don’t want to go looking for single men to mingle with. It’s stupid but there’s only one man I’m interested in mingling with in that manner. Even if he’s off-limits.

When I’m quiet for too long, Isa must sense some of my reasons and she’s the one changing the topic. “So, tell me the news about Jill.”

I’ve been bursting to tell as many people who might care as possible.

The homeschooling option was temporarily tabled as Jill didn’t want to leave her school. And, it seems like her teachers have been making extra efforts to stamp out any taunting or bullying behavior.

A new classmate came along a couple of weeks ago and, yesterday, when Jill announced he’s her best friend, I called Theo at work to share it, unashamed of my happy tears. Lady Ducks is currently visiting her Uncle McDuckhuff in Scotland. I hope she decides to remain there.

“I’m really glad to hear that, Quinn. If anyone was ever mean to Lucas, I think I’d be ready to commit assault.”

“Not against six-year-olds.”

“Well, I guess not,” she concedes, begrudgingly.

She’s soon being paged by her charge, freshly awake from his nap, and the call ends. I sigh, very glad it’s almost Friday.

Despite Theo’s long hours, we’ve started a new routine at home which he makes a point of being present for on Fridays - Sleepover Night in Ms. Quinn’s Quarters. How long will it last? Who can say. Ryder will outgrow it at some point and Jill will too eventually.

We’re enjoying the moments that will someday be memories.

“What did you call it?” Theo asks at breakfast Friday morning before the children have come down. There’s been several mornings recently where I've come to the kitchen table to find my coffee waiting for me right next to Theo’s seat.

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