I walk to my car, opening the door with the key fob. “Can’t wait,” I retort, sliding into the seat and starting the engine. The ride home is quiet. There is not much traffic on the dark country roads on a Sunday night. Everything is closed. Even the gas station on the way home is closed, as I glance down at the check enginelight that should come on soon. I pull into the driveway, unlock the door, and step into the stillness of the house. It feels odd to be here. I drop my things on the table and strip down as I head to the bedroom. By the time I reach the bed, I’m already in a tank and sleep shorts. I pull back the duvet and climb in, letting the silence settle around me.
I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, so I don’t bother to set the alarm. I’m just winging it every day, hoping that, eventually, I’ll stop feeling dead inside. But most of all, hoping that one morning, I’ll wake up and actually feel alive again.
On Monday morning,I decide to go to the recreation center and submit a job application. I pull up to the red building, and before I see them, I hear the sound of kids laughing and screaming.
“Oh, the enjoyment of being young,” I mutter. One girl has a clipboard and is marking something in pen, while the other guy has sunscreen in his hand and is spraying the arms of a little girl as she giggles. I enter through the town office building’s side door, walking past the police station, which is also housed in this same building.
“That’s interesting,” I mutter as I walk around the building. “Well, I guess the kids are safe.” I see the director of Parks and Rec sitting at her desk, and I rap my knuckles on the door. “Hello.” She looks up at me.
“Hi. Are you picking up early?” she asks. “Tasha has the clipboard around the corner.” She points to a young teenager, who I guess is Tasha.
I laugh. “No, I’m actually looking to see if you’re hiring. I live here in the summer and was looking for some extra work. I’m a college student and do some nannying, too.”
She stands. “Oh, I’m sorry, but we usually hire high school students, and most of them have gone through here as kids in the past programs. Others here are volunteers for community hours and are also in high school.”
I nod in understanding. “Oh, okay. I just thought I’d ask. Odette mentioned that you might have something.”
Her eyes light up. “Odette. Love her and her pancakes.”
I can’t help but smile. “I know, right? Me, too. She’s been a family friend for years. She and my mom were close.”
Deb comes closer. Her eyes squint in confusion, obviously trying to place me. “My mom was…”
She doesn’t let me finish. “Raquel Kennedy. She was your mom.” It’s not a question.
I nod. “Yes.”
“I am so sorry for your loss and the community’s. She gave so much of her time volunteering at the library for the kids’ programs, too.”
I smile weakly. “Yeah, Penny mentioned that they were thinking of nominating her for the Volunteer of the Year award to acknowledge her for her lifelong commitment to the Friends of the Library organization.”
She brings her hands to her chest, crossing them over her heart. “Such a kind soul.”
I avert her hard stare and feel my throat tighten. Sensing how much I dislike the uncomfortable feeling, Deb moves me along and steers me toward the bulletin board. “I just wanted to show you this.” She points to an index card hanging from the bulletin board by a pushpin. “We have this hanging, and it’s been up this week. It’s for a nannying job. The guy really needs help. Single dad with a cute five-year-old. The mom isn’t in the picture, I guess.”
Remind me never to let Deb know the rest of my personal history, I think to myself. “Oh,” is all that comes out. I’m afraid to ask anything else.
She takes it down and hands it to me. “Here. Give him a call. I know he could most definitely use the help, and you might just be perfect for the job.” She winks at me and walks off as I take the card from her, looking at it.
Nanny needed for my five-year-old daughter. Flexible hours are a must. Honest and dependable. Must have reliable transportation. Serious inquiries only. Needed ASAP. Please feel free to text me if you are interested.
It doesn’t say how much it pays, but honestly, I’m not in it for the money. What I need isn’t just a job, it’s something to occupy my time, to quiet the thoughts that keep me up at night, and ease the loneliness I feel at the lake house. This could give me purpose and help someone who clearly needs it.
The number is listed below. It’s a Massachusetts number, so maybe they aren’t local, or it’s probably a cell number like everyone else’s. I shrug. Deb has returned to her office. I tuck the card into my jeans pocket. “Thanks, Deb,” I call out, waving as I pass. She’s on the phone but waves as I open the door, leaving the building.
I leave my car parked at the rec center and walk across the street. It’s a short walk from here, and I don’t feel like driving just to find another parking spot less than a mile away. I take out the paper and reread it. I am honestly a little excited about the prospect of nannying again. I plug the number into my phone and send out a text message.
Me: Hi. I saw your posting for a nanny at the rec center. I am interested. Is it still available?
As I walk, I check my phone, but there is no response.He’s probably working, I tell myself, sliding it back into my pocket. I jog across the street, scanning for a place that sells frappes. Ahead, a small crowd is gathered at a to-go counter with about five people in line. A woman strolls past, licking her cone. “Can you believe this is kiddie size?” she tells the man beside her. He’s holding a cone with four scoops and carrying a cup in his other hand.
“I love this place,” he says, licking the ice cream melting down his fingers. I smile, remembering the first time I came here and made the rookie mistake of ordering a small cone instead of the kiddie cup. Ever since, it’s only kiddie size for me all the way. Today, I grab my vanilla frappe and head across the street to a bench in the middle of the town park. As I sit, a notification buzzes on mywatch. I pull out my phone and see that my message has finally been answered.
Unknown: Hi. Yes, I am still looking. Have you done any nannying before?
Me: Yes, I have. I read the list of requirements on the card and can meet all of them.
Unknown: Great! My daughter is playing t-ball and has a game Saturday at noon. Can you meet me at the town fields then?
