Chapter 1
Brynn Conley
“Okay, here we are!” I said, forcing a cheer as I plated the last meal I'd ever cook for the Gibson family. “It's Eloise's favorite: meatball lasagna.”
Eloise eagerly clutched a kid's fork in her tiny, eager hand. “Mmm!”
“Eloise, what do you say to Brynn for cooking you your favorite meal?” Mrs. Gibson asked.
“Thank you, Miss Brynn!”
“You're very welcome, Eloise!”
Mrs. Gibson smiled at me with a bittersweet heaviness. “Last night, Dan and I were talking about all the little things we'll miss about having you around—”
Mr. Gibson finished her sentence with a smile. “But especially your cooking.”
“Oh, you guys. Careful, you might make me cry.”
“Bless your heart,” Mrs. Gibson said.
I watched Eloise shovel a bite of lasagna into her mouth. I wasn't sure if she understood that I wouldn't be her nanny anymore; every time it came up, she seemed oblivious or disinterested. I couldn't blame her. Kids have different ways of dealing with things. And I was the only nanny she'd known the past two years. Who knew what she could possibly be thinking?
It's never easy moving on from a family. But when Mr. Gibson received the unexpected news that he was being laid off from his architecture firm, I became an expense the family couldn't afford. There was no doubt in my mind that Mr. Gibson would find another job in no time flat, and the family would rebound. Still, I felt awful for them to go through the stress of losing a job. And while I shared the pain of losing a job—because I was losing my job too, after all—at least I didn't have a family of my own that depended on me. Just Pickles, my cat.
Gotta look on the bright side, right?
Most of all, I felt the worst that my time with little Eloise was being cut short. Okay—'little Eloise' wasn't actually so little anymore. But it's hard not to think of her as the darling little dumpling she was when I first started two years ago.
Eloise was four and a half now, and she was the sort of well-mannered, well-spoken child that makes life very, very easy for a nanny. Too easy, maybe—maybe I would've had a little more job security if she were an absolute hellion. Ha ha. Just kidding. No one wants that. She's adorable and I'm going to miss her a lot.
But while Mr. Gibson's layoff came as a surprise, the truth was, I was expecting to be cut loose in a few short months anyhow. From day one, the plan was that once Eloise started preschool, my time as the Gibson family nanny would come to an end.
Originally, that timeline fit me just fine because I have an affinity for babies in the first place. I figured I could spend my whole life helping people raise their babies until they're old enough to go to school, and then move on to another family.
But not having those last precious few months to come to terms with it—well, I felt like I was robbed of closure. It came so suddenly.
Just like it was the first time around. Life has a funny way of kicking you again and again until you get the message, I guess. But I'm still trying to figure out what the message actually is.
After dinner, it was the regular routine: I washed the pots and pans and cleaned the kitchen and shared in a little small talk before I left for good.
“So what are you up to tonight, Brynn?” Mrs. Gibson asked.
“I've got dinner plans with the guy I've been seeing,” I said.
“Oh, fun! The paramedic?” she asked.
“The one and only. Brad.”
“You've been seeing each other for a couple months now, haven't you? Are things gettin' a little serious?” she asked in a teasing tone.
“God …” I said, croaking out an anxious laugh.
Were things getting serious? I was already torturing myself with an internal back-and-forth about the right time to have 'the talk' with Brad. Mrs. Gibson's prodding seemed like a hint from the universe that it was indeed time to tell him.
I gulped. “Maybe things are getting serious.”
“You seem so nervous!”
I spun the wedding band around and around on my ring finger. Or rather, I spun the part of my finger where the wedding band used to be. Old habits die hard.
“That's because I am nervous,” I said.
“Brynn Conley,” she began with a grin, “I did not have you pegged as a commitment-phobe.”
“I'm not …” It was always the guys that couldn't handle the commitment. But I didn't really want to get into all that right now. “Anyway. Who knows. We'll see how things go.”
Mr. Gibson—who had stood by with an uncomfortable leer while his wife talked to me about my dating life—suddenly stepped forward. “Well, Brynn, it was a pleasure. We'd be more than happy to give you a reference, so don't hesitate to let us know if you need one.”
“A glowing reference,” Mrs. Gibson added.
“Thank you both so much,” I said. “I really appreciate that.”
“Seriously,” Mr. Gibson added, “whether you need a reference for a nanny job, or a real job, just let me know and I'd be glad to put in the good word.”
His wife discreetly pinched his arm and quietly reprimanded him. “Honey! That was rude!”
I knew what he meant, but a small piece of me was always a little perturbed when someone implied that nannying wasn't a 'real' job—whatever that phrase even meant in the first place. Wasn't a real job any job that paid the bills? Or did I have to be chained to a desk and working a nine-to-six schedule before I was officially worthy of someone's respect?
And call me crazy, but nannying is the most meaningful job I've ever had.
I shook my head. “I had a real job once. Considering how much of my life I gave to it, I'm not really interested in going back to that world.”
To his credit, Mr. Gibson looked thoroughly embarrassed. His cheeks went red and he stammered. “I uh, I didn't mean anything by that, Brynn. I'm sorry.”
“It's okay. I know what you meant.” I smiled. “Anyway, I should get going.”
I hugged them both, and then it was time to say goodbye to the little one.
Only Eloise didn't want to say goodbye—she crawled under the couch and refused to come out instead.
“If you don't say bye to Brynn now, you'll never see her again!” Eloise's Mom warned her.
With a heart broken bawl, Eloise climbed out from under the couch, ran into my arms, and hugged me so tight I thought she'd never let go.
“Miss Bryyyyyyyyynn!” she wailed, sobbing.
Yeah, that'll break your heart.
Darn. I'd managed to hold it together all night until that very moment, but now the tears started to trickle.
“Aw, sweetheart!” I said with a sniffle. “I'll still visit you, okay? I promise.”
After her parents pried the little girl off of me, I made it out the door and hurried to my car.
Whew. That was tough.