Page 20 of Worth the Try
“That old coot? No way.” Mom makes a face and Rosie cracks up. To me, she says, “How are you?”
Better than I expected.“Good, good. Figured we’d call and see how Dad is.”
“She’s mean to me!” Dad calls from the background.
Mom rolls her eyes and looks back at him. “Because I’m making him do his physical therapy and won’t let him wallow in misery.”
Watching them lets something ease in my chest a bit. I worry about them, even though they’re still fairly young and surrounded by friends where they live. Mom insists they can take care of themselves, and they can. But being the only child means I’m ultimately the one responsible for them, and there’s no telling me any different. We catch up for a few more minutes,Rosie launching into a story about the day before we finally disconnect.
“Can I help?” Elodie appears a few minutes later, looking decidedly beat. Her shoulders droop and her energy is low, especially compared to any other time we’ve interacted. Rosie must have put her through the wringer—and they didn’t even get in the pool. I almost feel sorry for her, except for the part where I’m paying her to do this job.
“Nah.” I wave her off with what I hope is a friendly smile. “You’re off duty. Go relax.”
She hesitates, her top teeth worrying her bottom lip in a maneuver I’m already deeply familiar with, clearly torn.
I laugh. “Fine. You want to help? Set the table. Rosalie can show you where everything is.” No matter Elodie probably already knows where things are; it doesn’t take long.
Brightening, she launches into action. “Got it!”
Conversation over dinner is easy. Turns out that Elodie knows just about zero about rugby, so Rosie and I take turns explaining the basics of the game.
“So, a touchdown—” Elodie starts.
“Isn’t called a touchdown,” I finish, spearing a bite of pasta.
“It’s atry,” Rosie says in an exasperated tone.
Elodie grins. “I’m teasing. I reallydidknow that. But not much else.”
Watching them, it’s hard to believe it’s only been one day. There’s an ease between the two of them that I’ve never seen with any other nannies. Granted, that might be because they’ve all been ladies closer to my mom’s age, but still.
Elodie finally seems to get comfortable with being in the same room as me right as dinner ends. Gone is the immediate blush every time she looks my way, which is good. Great, even. I don’t need a nanny who’s distracted. Not when I’m distracted enough for the two of us.
She insists on helping to clean up, and I stay at the table for one more minute to luxuriate in being still. My gaze snags on the way she places her hand on Rosie’s shoulder, gently guiding her to the sink. As she bends down to position the step stool for my daughter, I allow myself to wonder—just for a second—what it’d be like to be with someone like Elodie. To feel the soft caress of her fingers on mine after a long day. To let myself look into those beautiful hazel eyes and just…breathe.
I shake my head. I can’t lose myself in a fantasy.
In the kitchen, Elodie hums a Disney song with Rosie, their movements as easy and intimate as though they’ve done it Rosie’s whole life. Watching them, I swear I feel a physical weight lift off my chest.
Finally, I pull myself together and stand to take my plate to the sink. Rosie holds soapy hands out for it, and when I turn, I run straight into Elodie.
“Oh!” she exclaims, her eyes widening.
My hands go out on instinct, as do hers. She’s soft. Soft hands on my forearms, and a soft, generous body pressed against mine. The whole moment lasts all of a second, but my body comes alive at the contact. As though it, too, can’t remember the last time it was touched by anyone who wasn’t trying to tackle me—Rosalie included.
Also, she smells incredible. The scents of vanilla and brown sugar waft around me, like my own personal dessert.
“Sorry,” I murmur, releasing her and stepping to the right.
Only she steps in the same direction.
Her laugh is so genuine that her entire face lights up. The smile she gives is beautiful, wide and lush, and its very presence seems to thaw a piece of my heart that I didn’t know was frozen.
My own chuckle is more reserved, but I hope she sees how undeniably grateful I am. For…everything. I step backward,nearly toppling into Rosalie in the process, and it makes Elodie laugh even more.
“Sorry.” She wipes tears from her eyes. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m just…” She trails off, then meets my gaze. “Thank you. For everything.”
Her words are like an arrow, hitting a mark she has no idea is even there. The fact that she echoed my own thoughts makes it that much sweeter. “You’re welcome. But the thanks is all mine.”
