Page 5 of Nanny for the Firefighters
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I understand. Thank you for being honest."
She nods curtly, collects her things, and with one last sympathetic glance at Lily, she's gone.
The door closes softly behind her, and the silence that follows is deafening. Lily whimpers, burying her face in my neck. I carry her back to her nursery, a room bathed in soft pastel colors and filled with plush toys.
"Hey, hey," I whisper, sitting on the rocking chair, Lily cradled against me. "It's just you and me, pumpkin. We'll figure this out."
As I rock her gently, her cries begin to subside. "Dada," she murmurs, her small fingers gripping my shirt. "Stay."
"Always, Lily. Dada's always here." The words are a promise I'm determined to keep. Her eyes, so like her mother's, stare up at me with a mix of sleepiness and anxiety.
It strikes me then—she's been unusually clingy, even for her. "Lily, has something been bothering you? Why the tears tonight?" I ask, hoping for some sign or gesture that might give me a clue.
She simply pats my cheek, the universal baby sign for 'I need you close', and it dawns on me. Separation anxiety. It's been just us for so long each night, and with the nanny's unpredictable schedule…
I sigh, setting Lily down in her high chair and heading to the kitchen to whip up something quick and comforting. Within minutes, the smells of scrambled eggs and toast fill the air. I plate the food and set it before her, cutting everything into tiny, manageable pieces.
"Dinner is served, milady," I joke, a half-smile tugging at my lips as I watch her tackle the eggs with gusto.
Mealtime is a messy affair, but laughter soon replaces tears, the first genuine smiles I've seen all night. Cleanup is quick, and then it's back to the nursery for bedtime.
"Storytime, Lily," I announce as I pick out one of her favorites, a worn copy of Goodnight Moon. I read to her, pointing out the little mouse and the quiet old lady whispering 'hush', her eyes heavy but fighting sleep.
As the story ends, I start humming her favorite lullaby, Purple Monkey, a silly tune that always has her giggling. Tonight, she just listens, her eyelids fluttering shut.
"Dada, stay," she mumbles as I tuck her in, her tiny hand reaching out.
Without hesitation, I climb into the crib, an awkward fit, but she snuggles close, her breaths evening out as she drifts off to sleep. The discomfort of the crib bars digging into my back is a small price to pay for this moment of peace.
Morning finds me cramped and sore, but Lily's peaceful, sleeping face, her hand still holding onto my shirt, makes every ache worth it. I carefully extricate myself, my movements slow and gentle to not disturb her. As I stand, stretching out the kinks in my back, I make a mental note. Find a nanny who fits into our life, someone who can handle the heat, literally and figuratively. But for now, it's just us, and that's okay. I'm not going anywhere.
The morning light filters softly through the curtains as Lily peeks out from under her fluffy comforter, her big blue eyes wide and hopeful. "Dada, no school," she murmurs, the corners of her mouth tilting up in a hopeful smile.
I kneel beside her crib, my hand smoothing back her soft curls. "But pumpkin, you love school," I gently remind her, even though the sight of her hopeful expression tugs at my heartstrings.
She pouts, shaking her head vigorously. "With you today," she insists, and the firm set of her tiny jaw tells me this isn't a battle I'm going to win this morning.
A sigh escapes me, and I glance at my watch, calculating the time. Vanessa's words from the voicemail echo in my mind. There will be no end to the crap she will toss my way for deviating from the routine. But then Lily reaches out, her small hand touching my cheek, and my resolve crumbles. "Okay, just today. We'll hang out together. How does that sound?""Yay, Dada!" She claps her hands, her joy infectious. That settles it. Today's going to be different. Today, I choose her happiness over routine, consequences be damned.
With Lily's bag packed with snacks and a few of her favorite toys, we head out, the fire station our unlikely destination. It's not a place for a toddler, but Station 23 isn't just any fire station. it's a second home, a place where everyone knows Lily, and she knows them.
Through the heavy doors, the familiar scents of oil and smoke mingle in the air. The clanging of equipment and the distant sound of laughter greet us. Ethan, Will, and Theo are in the midst of their morning routines, but they stop as they notice us.
"Hey, isn't that the tiniest firefighter?" Theo calls out, a grin spreading across his face as he wipes his hands on his jeans and saunters over. His enthusiasm brings a smile to Lily's face.
"What's the special occasion?" Will asks, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses as he kneels to Lily's level, offering her a high-five, which she returns with gusto.
Ethan's gaze meets mine, a silent question in his eyes.
"Rough night," I explain briefly, shifting Lily on my hip. "We thought we'd spend the day with our favorite uncles."
"That sounds like a plan!" Ethan claps his hands, his smile wide. "What do you say, Lil? Want to help us check the equipment?"
Lily nods eagerly.
As the morning progresses, it's clear that bringing Lily here was the right choice. The guys go out of their way to make her laugh, involving her in small, safe tasks that make her feel important. Theo lets her help polish the chrome on the truck, her small hands moving carefully under his guidance. Will, with his knack for storytelling, keeps her enthralled with tales of firefighting heroes and mythical fire-breathing dragons.
Meanwhile, Ethan pulls me aside, his expression serious. "You know, if you ever need backup, we're here, not just for the big fires but for the home front battles too."