“I should join you guys then.” Drew settled his hands on the stroller handles as if he intended to do just that.
Molly sputtered. “Why?”
“Second opinion.” Drew turned the stroller toward the street corner. “You’re a first-time mom. You need to hire a nanny. What if you miss something and hire the wrong nanny?”
“And you believe you’re qualified to pick out a nanny?” Molly walked beside him, unable to think of a good way to shake off Drew. He’d outrun them for sure. Her heels were not conducive to running. And she’d already told him their destination.
“Well, growing up I had nannies, so that might qualify me to pick out a good one, but not necessarily.” Drew tipped his head at her, then pressed the crosswalk button on the light pole. “Also, I’m pretty good at reading people and can spot a liar or a fraud quickly. Reuben Cote notwithstanding.”
“You think my nanny candidates are going to be lying about their qualifications?” Molly asked.
“I hope not.” Drew waited a beat before he pushed the stroller into the crosswalk.
Molly appreciated his caution. And his protective nature.
He added, “But who wants to hire a nanny without experience? No one, so, you’d have to embellish your résumé.”
“Tell me again what you bring to the table for these interviews?” Molly lifted the front of the stroller onto the sidewalk. “You’re going to know that a candidate is overselling herself.”
“A second opinion is what I bring,” Drew said. “You can’t just leave Hazel with the first nanny you meet because she’s available. You can’t do that to this cutie. It’ll leave an indelible mark.”
Molly chewed on her bottom lip. She already worried Hazel’s bad two weeks at the Tiny Sweet Giggles Day Care had left a permanent bad memory with her daughter. But Molly had to hire a nanny quickly. Though Drew offered a good point. Would urgency shadow her objectivity? Perhaps Drew could help. “Do you have a scar from an old nanny experience?”
Drew shook his head. “We had terrific nannies. Hazel deserves the same.”
Molly studied him for a long moment. “You aren’t going to leave, are you?”
“Took you long enough to catch on.” Drew smiled. “Besides, Hazel and I can have cupcakes at the bakery and still celebrate.”
Molly shook her head. He was determined to have a celebration. Would he be as relentless as a father? As committed as Molly was to being the best parent she knew how to be. She shifted the diaper bag to her other shoulder—the one closest to Drew as if she required a physical barrier between them.
She certainly required more than her imaginary boundaries. Boundaries she kept breaching. Drew’s skills as a parent were not her concern. His parenting style had no bearing on his hearing or its outcome. But envisioning Drew as a dad had too much impact on Molly’s heart.
She had not moved to San Francisco to add to her family, she admonished silently. She’d moved to restart her career and give Hazel and herself a better life.
Drew would make a great father. That much Molly admitted. As for her own family, it was fine the way it was. And that, Molly determined, wasn’t negotiable.
To expand her family, she would demand love. But love was never simple—all too often it was painful and required more than Molly could give. She’d simply love her daughter with all she had and that would be enough.
At the next street corner, Molly tugged on Hazel’s blanket and pointed out a pigeon. Then she launched into one of her favorite games of I spy with Drew.
Twelve blocks later, Molly laughed and rubbed at her eyes. “I give up. What looks like it has absorbed the last rays of the sunset, always catches people’s attention and belongs to only one special person?”
“I’m not telling,” Drew teased. “I might keep it for our next battle.”
Molly held open the door to the Sugar Beat Bakery and stared at Drew. “You can’t do that. I’m sure it’s a rule.”
“Oh, really.” Drew pushed the stroller into the store and paused when he was beside Molly. He leaned toward her and whispered, “In that case, the answer is your hair.”
Molly sputtered. Her hair. Drew compared her hair to the sunset? Her mother had only ever lamented Molly’s hair—it wasn’t red enough. Nor was it blond enough. Her mother considered Molly’s hair color indecisive and set out to make sure her daughter never acted accordingly. Never settle for the middle ground, Molly. Take a stand.
She should take a stand now and demand that Drew retract his statement. Remind him that she wasn’t special. Couldn’t be special. Not to him. That disrupted those pesky boundaries.
Drew parked Hazel’s stroller near a corner table and waited for Molly to join them. He took her order and walked to the service counter. Molly settled Hazel into a high chair, pulled out her stack of nanny résumés and pushed her wayward thoughts of Drew into the to-be-dealt-with-later category.
AFTER TWO HOURS of sitting in the bakery, Molly watched the fourth nanny candidate leave the Sugar Beat Bakery, then stared at the bottom of her empty coffee cup. Too many espressos consumed, and her list of potential nannies had dwindled. Thanks in part to the man beside her. And to think she’d been relieved that Drew had insisted on joining her for the interviews.
“She was definitely all wrong.” Drew marked a thick line across the list on her sheet of paper.
“I liked her.” Molly frowned into her cup.
“Did you like the faint smell of smoke on her?” Drew asked. “Or her wrinkled shirt and pants?”
“She could’ve walked through a smoker’s cloud of exhale outside on the sidewalk.” Molly tapped her mug as if it would automatically refill. As if more caffeine would solve her not-having-a-nanny issue. Only asking Drew and his common sense to leave would do that.
Molly was desperate for childcare that would work for Hazel. She couldn’t keep disqualifying a candidate for being late or having too
