Cassidy
We’re just finishing cleaning the kitchen when the doorbell rings.
Conner and I shoot each other questioning looks. Nobody comes here. Like ever. Which is fine. We’ve had three weeks of blissful lovemaking, and I was looking forward to another night of the same. The girls are asleep, I have no homework, and Conner promised me a massage.
Conner opens the front door, and three men stroll in carrying beer and bags of chips.
“We figured you were in need of a poker night, dude,” one says. He nods a hello to me, and they start setting up around the dining table, talking and joking as if this were an everyday occurrence.
“Uh, guys?” Conner says. “It’s really not a good night.”
“C’mon, man. You haven’t been out with us in seven months. We won’t wake the kids. We’ll even leave by ten.” He puts the case of beer down and turns to me. “I’m Deacon.” He holds out his hand, which I shake while looking at Conner.
“Cassidy this is Deacon, Charlie, and Matt. Guys this is Cassidy. She’s...” He looks at me with new eyes. “She’s the nanny.”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say. I am the nanny, after all. That doesn’t stop the feeling that I’d just swallowed an ice cube, and it’s freezing everything inside me as it slides down my throat.
My heart especially.
The last three weeks have been amazing, but we didn’t put labels on it. It seemed too new to sully with expectations. We just built a cocoon around the house and pretended there wasn’t an outside world.
But there is. And it’s in the cocoon with us now.
Conner is looking at me like he’s seen a ghost. Or maybe he’s just seeing the writing on the wall like I am.
I’m the nanny.
Of course, I am.
I’m the teen babysitter.
What seemed so right ten minutes ago now seems sordid. Wow, when reality crashes your party, it does with the finesse of the Kool-Aid Man crashing through a wall.
“I’ll finish cleaning in the kitchen. You should visit with your friends. When I’m done, I’ll head...home...and be back first thing in the morning.”
Conner closes his eyes. Deacon says, “Wait. Cassidy? Could you stay longer? I’ll pay you whatever Conner does. That way if the kids wake up, he can still hang out for a while.”
Conner says nothing. Nothing. I’m starting to feel sick that I get paid to do what I do. Am I getting paid to sleep with my boss?
I blink back my epiphany. That’s for Future Cassidy to think about. Right now, getting away from all these people is goal number one. “Yeah, sure. I’ll bring the baby monitor into the guest room and study in there.”
I feel Conner’s eyes on me as I go into the kitchen, but he’s still said zero.
It was actually easier in the living room, when all my insides were iced over. Now that I’m alone, I feel the prickles of a thaw coming. It hurts. I want the numb back.
We had pretty much finished the kitchen, so I rinse out the sink and towel dry it so I at least feel busy.
“Cassidy.”
I don’t turn around from the sink. I can’t. “There’s still some dip in the fridge, if you want to have it with your chips.”
“Cassidy,” Conner repeats.
I squeeze my eyes closed. Not now. Not now. You can’t break yet. Just a few more minutes.
His hands are on my hips now. His chest to my back. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t know what you wanted me to tell them. I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
“You didn’t.”
He wraps his arms around my middle and rests his chin on my shoulder. “You think I can’t tell that you’re hurting right now? You think I don’t care that I’m the one that did it?”
“I’m fine. You should go back out there. They might come looking for you. We don’t want them to suspect.”
“I don’t care if they do. Sweetness, you know you’re more than the nanny to me, right?”
I don’t answer because I know I’m more than the nanny when we’re in bed. But I don’t know what I am when the real world rings the doorbell. These guys have seen him date a lot of women. It probably never even occurred to them that he could be having sex with me. They probably can’t even remember what I look like already. I’m the wallflower. I forgot it for these weeks. I remember it now. With all my other insecurities.
“Cassidy.” His voice is low, gravelly near my ear. An unwanted warmth rushes to my center. Damn it.
I exhale and squeeze his hands. “I’m fine, Conner. Go have a nice time.”
His mouth is still near my ear, his breath hot against the sensitive skin there. “I’d rather stay in here with you.” He nuzzles my neck. “I love the way you smell.”
“Conner.”
“Let’s tell them.”
“Tell them what? That the dorky girl next door has a crush on you? That your nanny takes care of your kids all day and then takes care of your dick at night? What exactly are we going to tell them?”
He goes stiff and steps back like it burned to touch me.
I turn. “I’m sorry.”
But it’s too late. His jaw is squared in repressed anger. His posture is tight. But his eyes are wounded.
“Conner, I’m sorry.”
He stares at me for a long time. I bite my lip, swallowing the golf ball trying to move up my throat. But I can’t stop the tear.
“Shit, that’s not fair,” he says. He pulls me into his arms. “Please don’t cry. I can deal with a lot of things, but making you cry is not one of them.”
It feels good in his arms. Too good. I want this. I want the life we’ve been playing these past three weeks. I want him to be mine. But the fact is, when pressed, neither of us knew how to introduce me, and that is the first ding in the windshield, I think. It’s weaker now. Ready to crack. If our first instinct was to hide our relationship, then maybe no matter how good it feels, it isn’t right.
Just like that first night, we’ve been role playing all along.
And if it isn’t right, then there are two people we need to put ahead of our selfish desire. The sleeping babies upstairs. They can’t afford for us to play house and wreck their lives. If we break up after they are used to us, then they lose all their stability again.
I pull back, put on an awkward grin. “You deserve a night of fun with the guys. But I think it’s best that I go home tonight.” I hand him the baby monitor. “They probably won’t wake up, but just in case.”
“Cassidy, don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything. My mom has been bugging me to hang out for a while now. I’ll be back before you go to work in the morning.”
“Cass—”
I hold my hand up. “Diaper.”
The safe word. The one that means stop.
He wasn’t expecting that. His face goes slack with shock.
I run out the back door. I don’t have shoes. I don’t have my laptop or my books. And I certainly don’t have my dignity.
In my childhood room, I pull back my curtains and look across the lawns into the room I haven’t slept in for weeks at Conner’s house. It was only a month ago that I was on that side, wishing I were at home. Now, this doesn’t feel like home. Not anymore. But home isn’t next door, either. It’s always been temporary. The plan had always been to get a permanent nanny.
My heart breaks because I think it’s time.
There is money for it. The house is paid for and there was money left from the life insurance policies. Conner met with a financial advisor about a month after the funeral. He made sure the bulk of the money got put away for the girls—but there is a budget for a nanny. I didn’t take the full amount he offered, but someone else will. Maybe they’ll even take room and board.
That sends an arrow of fire to my gut. Thinking of someone else living there. Taking care of the girls. Tucking them in at night. Giving them their baths. Watching them sleep.
That’s how I know it’s time. If I feel like this now—how bad will it hurt two years from now? Four?
I’ve spent the last few months sort of hand-waving over my feelings because everything felt right. But what happens when it doesn’t? When Conner meets a woman he’s attracted to who’s old enough to go to a bar? What happens to me when the girls are in school all day? Do I become Alice from The Brady Bunch? Will I get a room off the kitchen while everyone around me has a life of their own?
I can’t regret loving all three of them. But nobody can move on if I stay. And I don’t want to just be the nanny. I want it all. I may never find it, but pretending isn’t going to work forever.
The next morning is awkward. We’re overly polite. He’s cleaned up after his party, something he wouldn’t have thought to do six months ago. He’s watching me very carefully as I feed the girls breakfast. He automatically refills my coffee, putting the right amount of sugar in my cup, and my mouth goes dry because I know I have to leave. The temptation to stay is too strong.
I hand Conner a sheet of paper. “Before you go to work, do you think you could look these over?”
He glances at it. “What is this?”
“My job description and possible ads. I thought I would contact the agencies today. It’s time you found a permanent solution. We talked about it a few months ago, remember? That I was just temporary until things got under control?”
Conner says nothing. His hand curls into a fist, crinkling the paper, and he kisses the girls’ heads before he strides out the door.
I’m glad for once that the girls are such good distractions because they keep me too busy all morning to wallow in all my angsty feelings.
At one o’clock, I take Ashley to the doctor for a possible ear infection. My mom stayed with Hayden, so I take advantage of having just one baby and stop at Target on the way home. I pull into the parking lot, open my door, and see the gun first, the man holding it second.