I don’t want to be here. This phrase repeated in my head. I meant it too. Though I couldn’t claim to be happy, aside from the last couple of days, I’d been content with my life. I hated change. Losing Megyn was more change than anyone should have to endure. Finally, I release Beatrice’s hand and stepped back. “Okay, let’s eat,” I mumbled. Glancing at Mo, I saw how excited she was, for the first time in so long, and it saddened me to think I’d been holding her back. Seeing how eager and determined she was to leave pained me greatly. Our situation was only made more awkward by the new nanny.

Beatrice was beautiful. I’d guess she was in her early twenties. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders in what I surmised to be natural waves. And when she fixed her dark eyes on me, my breath caught in my throat.

Clearing it, I asked, “How long have you been in Westport, Beatrice?”

She was in the middle of scooping some green beans on her plate. When I spoke to her, she jumped and beans spilled off the spoon, landing on the tablecloth. “I can fix that,” she responded nervously.

I shook my head. “We’ll toss it in the washer. No problem. We never use one. This was Mo’s idea. She’s trying to make me appear civilized.” I smirked. “Is it working?”

A shy smile spread across her face. “You’re doing fine, sir.”

“Dear God. Call me Will. My father was ‘sir’ and I think it adds thirty years to my age when someone refers to me by that term.” I chuckled and then stopped. Why was I being nice? Why wasn’t I fighting this harder? I wasn’t ready for her to live here. I wasn’t ready for Mo to leave. My head hung and Mo, sitting to my right, laid a hand on my forearm.

“It’s going to be okay,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t have brought Beatrice here if I didn’t think she was perfect for Thea and could tolerate you.”

I eyed her sadly. “So, I’m merely tolerable now?”

“You’re not bad for a giant, stubborn mule of a man,” she teased. “Your best trait is the love you have for your daughter. You should focus on that.” Mo winked at me.

I nodded and took a sip of water. Usually, I had soda with dinner because until they figured out a caffeine drip for me, I was going to consume it in all its glorious forms throughout the day. I’d reached for a can, but Mo stopped me because it made me burp. “This is a job interview, not a date,” I’d reminded her. Only when her brow shot up did I set the soda down in the fridge. So, now I was feeling sluggish and sad. Most of this fell squarely on Mo. And somehow, I was supposed to be ensuring this woman was a good fit for Thea? Looking to my daughter, I saw eagerness in her eyes. “Would you like to ask her some questions, baby, since you’re the one who’ll be spending all the time with her?”

Thea nodded happily. “I’ve seen you at school.” She grinned.

I leaned over and whispered loudly, “That’s not a question.”

She laughed and leaned back to whisper, “I just wanna talk to her. How do I know what I want to ask unless we talk?”

I grinned. “You make a strong point. Carry on.”

At the end of the table, Beatrice smiled warmly. “Yes, I work as a teaching assistant for one of the other teachers during the day.”

“Do you like it?” Thea sat there, jiggling, her feet swinging wildly under the table.

Tilting her head, Beatrice considered her response. “I do. I didn’t think I would.” She laughed. “I studied literature and I feel bad for not using my degree.”

“You studied books?” Thea scrunched up her face.

“Yes. I love them. I’ve even considered writing them one day.” Beatrice grinned, then stuck a fork of baked chicken in her mouth and chewed quietly.

“You could read to me. I used to love it when my mommy read to me. Aunt Mo does it sometimes, too, but Mommy was best. She’d do the voices.” Thea brightened hopefully before posing her next question. “Do you do voices?”

Still chewing, Beatrice nodded, then swallowed. “I do. In fact, I’d be happy to read a book to you after dinner, voices and all, if you’d like.”

Dancing in her chair, Thea responded, “I’d like that so very much!” Then she sobered. “What about bedtimes and vegetables? What about driving me to school?”

“Well, I don’t have a car…” Beatrice glanced at me to see if this would be a problem.

I inhaled deeply. “I have a spare vehicle. Mo used it before she bought her own. It’s still in good shape. Do you have a license?”

“I did in England. How does that work?” She frowned.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted and watched as her eyes widened. “What?”

“A man who admits he doesn’t know everything? You truly are a gem.” She shook her head in wonder. “I think I like you already, Will Treadway.”

My cheeks colored. “Don’t worry. It’ll wear off. Look at Mo, she’s moving two states away.”

Mo growled and glared at me before turning her attention to Beatrice. “I’m getting married and my husband would like me to live with him, not Will. You understand, right?”

“I completely understand.” Beatrice grew suddenly sad. “But I’d probably make sure this was the real thing before rushing off and moving. Is it?”

With a frown, Mo nodded. “I’m sorry, Beatrice. I know, and I told Will so you wouldn’t have to go into it. If you’re looking for a place to heal, a place full of love, somewhere you can make a difference while fitting in, you found it.”

Beatrice dabbed at her mouth with a napkin before responding. “I’d be happy for some job security and a stable living situation.”