Read Eight Days a Week Online

Authors: Amber L Johnson

Eight Days a Week (5 page)

“Brady doesn’t speak.”

She cocked her head and pursed her lips. “Really? Why?”

“I have no idea. I just started, like . . . today.”

“You weren’t given any of the child’s history?”

“Children. Plural. And no.”

“You should ask.” Marlowe looked over at Brady, and her face softened. “He looks lonely.” She dug around in her purse and came up with a piece of paper and a pen. “Here. Call me if you want to get the kids together for a play date. Or if you just need advice on anything. I’ve been doing this for ages.” Her smile was genuine. “And you look like you could use all the help you can get. No offense.”

I took the paper and scratched my nose. “None taken.”

She waved goodbye and pulled Kate off the floor, taking her hand as they walked out the door with a small wave in Ian’s direction.

Ian came to join me, and we watched Brady bouncing through the tent flaps. “Marlowe’s a nice girl.”

I nodded. “That’s good.”

“Watch yourself,” he said, and it sounded like a threat.

“No, no. I’m not interested in Marlowe. Trust me. I have my eyes on a bigger prize.”

He raised his eyebrows, but I didn’t say anything more because I didn’t want to sound like a total ass-hat. So Ian just helped me keep an eye on Brady. After a while, he patted me on the back and pointed toward the kid sliding out of the flaps and onto the ground. “Looks like your li’l guy is ready to go.”
 

He handed me a card and wrote his cell number on it. “Let me know if you’re up at the bar
anytime soon. We’ll go throw stuff at Xander. I’ll order a pitcher of beer for us.”

It wouldn’t hurt to have some friends now that I was back in town, so I accepted.

We got home just before Bree’s bus pulled up. Her shoulders were slumped as she crossed the lawn with her book bag, her eyes narrowed and jaw set. “What are you doing?” she asked in a half whisper.

“I’m waiting on you.” It should have been the most obvious thing in the world, so I patted her head. “It’s my job.”

Over the next three hours, I helped with homework and fed them dinner before overseeing their daily chores. Both kids were quiet, as usual, and I checked the clock and sighed. It was after seven and Gwen still wasn’t home. I’d been up with these kids for over thirteen hours.

“We take baths now,” Bree said and headed up the stairs to the second floor.

“Uh . . .” I felt the panic rise in my chest again. “Do you do that on your own?”

Bree stopped halfway up and turned around. “I do. But Brady needs you.” She climbed the last few steps and disappeared around the corner.

“Oh no.” I scrounged for the number in my pocket. After dialing, I paced the floor until the phone picked up. “Marlowe?”

“Yes?” she asked, her voice wary.

“Hey, it’s Andrew from the bouncy place. With the kids?”

She chuckled. “You are completely freaking out.”

“Yeah. I am. Brady needs a bath and . . .” I ran my hand over my face and then pinched the bridge of my nose. “Well, I just . . . um . . .”

“Take a deep breath. You’ve never even given a bath?”

“No.”

“Okay. You
take baths, right?”

I snorted. “Yes.”

“Then you know what to do.”
 

“You know what? You’re no help at all. I just wasn’t sure if it was illegal for me to bathe him.”

“Yes, you can give kids a bath.
God
—”

“Are you judging me? Isn’t there some kind of Nanny Code about that?”

She sighed into the phone. “Oh, Andrew. What are we going to do with you?”

I looked into the living room and shook my head. “I don’t have a clue.”

“Good luck.”

I gathered my courage before scooping up Brady and carrying him to the bathroom. I turned on the water to fill up the tub, and he screamed.
 

“Whoa!” I yelled and sat on the floor. “What? What’s wrong?” I searched his face, but he was screaming and huddled against the wall. “I mean it. Calm down,” I said, but he only screamed louder. “Come on.” I took his hand and led him to his room. “Do you need something from in here to take a bath?”

His cries turned to sobs and sniffles while he rummaged around his toy chest and came up with some floaties.

“Okay. Floaties. What else?”

He pointed to me.

“Nah, I can’t get in there with you, kid.”
 

His face crumpled again, and I relented.

“Okay, fine. Just stop crying and we’ll get you clean.”

I walked with him back to the bathroom and held my breath. This was not going to be comfortable at all. He was leaving his underoos on, that was for sure.

Once we got his clothes off, I slid the floaties onto his arms and dropped him into the bubbles. Then I shrugged out of my shirt, got rid of my pants, and climbed in.

And there we sat. Two dudes in the tub in our undies. Except he had floaties on and that seemed much more fun than sitting scrunched up against the side of the tub for fear I would touch him in some way.

He stopped crying and we got him washed, except for his manly bits, because I figured being in the water while it sloshed around was just as good as scrubbing. It would have to be for tonight, until I could find out how to get him bathed without having to touch him.

The water turned tepid, and I coaxed him out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel. He wiped his face and pretended to shiver. “Hold on. Let me get my towel,” I said, and he stayed still. I got out and secured the towel over my soaking-wet boxers I was now trying to maneuver in, and then I heard a loud gasp from the bathroom door.

My head swiveled around, and I was face to face with Gwen.

“I-I . . .” she stuttered and looked from me to Brady. Her face grew bright red and she pointed at me. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving your kid a bath.”

“You don’t bathe
with
him!”

“Listen, lady. He wouldn’t get in without me. He’s got his undies on and so do I.” I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows. “Do you need me to show you?”

Brady glanced between the two of us, wide-eyed, the towel pressed to his wet lips, until Bree came in and took his hand to lead him to his room. Then it was just Gwen and me, squaring off. Her eyes were narrowed to slits, and her whole body was rigid.

I shook my head and sighed as I reached my hand into the towel and yanked down my boxers. I let them hit the floor and then stepped out of them before lifting both hands in a shrug.

Her eyes flicked to the opening in the towel, and her eyebrows rose an inch.

Oh, hello, Gwen. Meet Don. You two will be great friends.

I bent and picked up my clothes. “Now that you’re home, I’m off duty.” I brushed past her but stopped right next to her ear. “Maybe you could leave some instructions next time. Or at least tell me what the hell is going on around here.”

She looked away, and I let out a disgusted breath.
 

“Then I guess we’ll continue to do things my way.”

“Your way? It looks like you’ve been watching
Big Daddy
and taking pointers.”

“At least I’m
trying.” I took a step toward her.

Her breath grew shallow, and she trained her eyes on my lips. We were a hair’s breadth apart, and I could feel the heat rolling off her skin as her chest brushed against mine. “Want me”—I quirked a brow and she stopped breathing—“to go?”
 

She blinked and bit her lip. “No.”

“Okay.” I leaned in closer so I just brushed up against her thigh. “Good night, then.”

I didn’t hear her exhale before I hit the stairs.

Manny Log

Monday:

Acid trip television: It works, but it scares the shit out of me. Muno is a no go.

Monkey Joe’s: Win
 

Double dude bath time: Fail = pissed off Gwen
 

Tuesday:

Park: Win

SpongeBob: Win

Wonder Pets
: Half Win. Theme song makes me want to punch kittens.

Single dude bath time: Fail. Ended up soaking wet from tantrum and back in towel when Gwen got home.

Wednesday:

Found DVDs in Brady’s closet: What is a
Veggie Tales
? Best thing ever. E-mailed “The Hairbrush Song” to Xander.

Dropped Bree off at ballet and took Brady to the park: Stared at ducks for an hour. (Note—bring bread next time.)

Gwen performed bath duties without having to get into tub: What the hell?

Thursday:

T-ball practice cancelled due to rain.

Thomas the Tank Engine
: Gave me nightmares.

Dinner with all four of us: Silence and Brady got a pea stuck in his nose. (Note—no more small foods.) Covered in peas and barbecue sauce—left dinner shirtless.

Friday:
 

Verification needed before further viewing: Is Wubbzy a girl? Must do web search on
Wow! Wow! Wubbzy!

Took Brady to lunch with Gwen: She looked smokin’ hot in her suit. Can’t remember anything else.

Saturday and Sunday:

I slept like a college freshman. Ate lunch. Slept more.

Monday:
 

Took Brady to playground: Sat on ground and wouldn’t play. Other nannies looked at me like I had stolen him.

Tried to get Bree to play a board game: She refused and read in the corner until dinner.

Bath time: Total win—discovered the key, but still ended up in towel when Gwen came home. I think she’s starting to like it.

Side note: Second grade math is hard.

Chapter 5

Cry Baby Cry

Brady climbed into the bounce house by himself to play with Kate, and I smiled. Things were looking up.

Marlowe gave me a pat on the back. “Is he talking more?”

“Not really, but I’m getting him to play with me. He’s laughing.”

“Laughter is better than words sometimes.” She smiled and cocked her head. “I take it you got the bath under control?”

“Oh yeah. I did it
Baywatch
style—put my swim shorts on and sat on the edge of the tub with my legs in the water, like a lifeguard. I even have a whistle. He washes himself, so that makes me feel less creepy. Which is a bonus because his lower half’s under the bubbles.”

“Good.”

“I get to take him to T-ball practice tonight.”

Marlowe shook her head and palmed her face. “Is his sister coming, too?”

“I pick her up in an hour. I don’t spend as much time with Bree, because she’s so independent. I don’t have to do much for her. But”—I smiled wider—“she waits for me to walk her to her bus in the morning. And she watches for me out the window when the bus comes back. Maybe I’m getting through to her, too.”

Marlowe tilted her head. “Still no answers? There’s got to be
something
there to make them both behave the way they do. No seven-year-old takes the mom role without cause.”

“She reminds me of my sister. She’s a little adult.”

She patted my knee. “Then it’s your job to remind her that she’s a kid. You’re good for that kind of thing, I’m sure.” She turned her ear to the bounce house and put a finger to her lips. “No good can come of two quiet kids.” We both jumped up at the same time and ran over to the tent. “Kate! Put your pants back on!”
 

My jaw dropped, and Marlowe scowled. “Come over here and tell Brady to put his pants on, too, Andrew.”

“Brady, you can’t show that off to just anyone. Pull your pants up.” He did as I said and slid out of the flaps, looking embarrassed. I had to stifle a smile and a high five, but managed to keep a straight face as I sent him to grab his shoes.

Kate pulled on Marlowe’s hand. “I want ice cream,” she whined.

“No. You have to eat dinner.”


I want ice cream!
” The scream was so loud I had to cover my ears.

Marlowe looked at me with pursed lips. “You just wait, buddy. I drink a bottle of wine a night to unwind after this one goes to bed.”

Kate was still screaming, and the other three people in the play center were giving us dirty looks. I grabbed Brady’s hand and pulled him to my side.
 

“Hey, speaking of drinks, a few of us are going to my best friend’s bar on Saturday night. You’re more than welcome to come.”

Marlowe nodded. “Call me. I’ll get more details.” She grabbed Kate’s hand and pulled her out the doors to her car, where the little girl fell to the ground, flailing and kicking at the pavement.

Ian raised his eyebrows as I approached the desk.

“You should come on over tomorrow, around eight thirty, if you want,” I said. “It’s the kids’ weekend with their grandma. Xander’s coming over, and we’ll have the house to ourselves. My boss is never home anyway. I doubt she’ll be around.”

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