“It’s a converted van with a bed and a little kitchen,” she explains. “That way my home is with me wherever I go. But it will definitely be nice not having to shower at a truck stop or campground. And to have a real toilet again.”
“So you’re living out of your van,” I say, still trying to wrap my head around this.
“I am.” She beams. “It’s actually kind of freeing to not be tied down. To go wherever I want, whenever I want. To not be stuck in one place.”
“And how long were you planning on staying here in town?”
She shrugs. “Until I find a reason to leave, I suppose.”
“I see.” I study her, my skepticism about whether this is a good decision increasing the more I learn about her unconventional living situation.
“It probably sounds like I’m a flake, but I’m not. I’m extremely responsible. I just…” She trails off, briefly looking past me before returning her eyes to mine. “I went through something about a year ago that made me re-evaluate what’s important in life. I realized it’s not the high-paying job or the expensive car or the luxurious apartment. I was done letting life pass me by and saying no to new experiences because of work or bills or other responsibilities. I wanted to say yes to everything. To experience life. So I quit my job, moved all my stuff into storage, and bought a van so I could finallylive.”
I run a hand over my face, blowing out a long breath. Rowan is probably the last kind of person I’d normally hire to watch my kids. But this isn’t about me. It’s about them. In less than an hour, she did what my previous nannies couldn’t do in weeks.
“Okay. We’ll give it a try. Can you start tomorrow?”
“Of course. What time?”
“Seven. In the morning,” I clarify.
I half expect her to flinch at the early hour.
She doesn’t.
“Seven it is. See you then.”
CHAPTER SIX
ROWAN
I pullmy van in front of Hayden’s house and stare at it for a beat longer than necessary before killing the engine.
Unlike last night, the cul-de-sac is a beehive of activity, even before seven in the morning.
A woman power-walks with a golden retriever wearing a bandana. A guy in workout clothes stretches before jogging down the street. Two houses down, a man slips out of the front door and into his truck with the name of a construction company on it, obviously on his way to work.
And then there’s me.
My van is definitely out of place among all the manicured lawns and curated perfection.
But I don’t care.
Let them stare. If I worried what strangers thought about me, I never would have traded my office for a van in the first place. I would have been stuck watching my life slip by until I retired.
No thank you.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I jump out of the van and make my way up the driveway. Unlike last night, Hayden’s house is quiet as I approach.
No smoke alarm screaming for mercy.
No toddler wails rattling the windows.
No frustrated shouts.
Just…calm.
I lift my hand to ring the doorbell, but the door opens before I have a chance.
