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Gianna inhales when I walk in with the pie. “That smells so good. Mrs. Jackson makes the best pies around here.”
The sweet aroma of freshly baked pie filled the kitchen as I carefully set it on the counter. Gianna's eyes widened at the sight and smell of it.
"I'll give you half of the pie," I said with a playful smile, "in return for a favor."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What do you need?’’
I leaned in closer. "Babysit Kira tonight."
It’s 7 p.m., time for dinner with the Jacksons. It’s been barely an hour since we finished setting up the apartment, and Kira falls asleep after her dinner. Gianna agreed to watch her for tonight so I have nothing to worry about.
“Are you going dressed like that?” Gianna asks as I step out of my room. She’s lounging on the couch, swiping through an ebook.
I glance down on myself. I’m wearing a pink summer dress that stops just above the knee. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Everything. How are you going to get his attention dressed like that?” she asks, dropping her phone beside her and turning her full attention to me. “You need to show a little more cleavage and—”
I raise my hand to stop her. “It’s a family dinner, Gigi, not a strip show. Plus, I have my pretty face to rely on.”
She yawns as if it’s the most boring thing she’s ever heard. “You’re pretty, but the cleavage—”
I flash a middle finger at her and start walking to the door before she can react to it. “Take care of you and Kira. I’ll be back after dinner!”
“You’re such a mom,” she yells after me as I walk out of the house and shut the door.
I don’t care if being a mom is my entire personality. I’ll own it with everything in me. I also don’t want a guy who likes me for my cleavage. It’ll be gone when I stop breastfeeding anyway, and I’ll be back to an A cup.
The streets of Meadowvale are peaceful compared to the bustling city I'm used to. The trees provide a beautiful backdrop against the night sky, illuminated by street lamps and the moon and stars above. I wish I could stay outside and gaze at the enchanting view. It doesn't take me long to reach the Jackson household, a charming bungalow with white and gray siding.
From outside, I can see Mrs. Jackson and a girl playing and giggling inside through the windows. Their joy is infectious even from afar.
I reach out to knock, but withdraw my hand and draw in a breath. I haven’t been around a happy family like this one in a long time. My palms are slick with sweat, and my heart races as I raise my hand to knock on the door. I count to 10 before finally bringing my fist down.
I hear tiny footsteps. The door is flung open and a small girl with big blue eyes and blond hair is standing in front of me. She looks seven or eight, I’m not sure, but she’s beautiful.
“Hey,” I say softly, not entirely certain of the best way to introduce myself. “I’m Anya, your…”
“Alessa, who’s that?” Mrs. Jackson calls from inside.
I exhale in relief as she comes to the door. Her brown eyes lighten and she smiles pleasantly. “Anya, darling, come on in.”
My gaze darts to the small girl. She’s watching me intently as if I’m a piece of art she’s trying to decipher.
“She’s my granddaughter, Alessa. She’s not used to having new people around,” Mrs. Jackson says as I walk inside.
I squat in front of Alessa. “Do you mind if I join you and your family for dinner?”
She shrugs her little shoulders. “I don’t mind. You’re beautiful just like granny said. And my daddy needs a girlfriend.”
I laugh and wonder who her daddy is. “I’ll tell you a secret. I have a daughter too. She’s one.’’ She gasps, her eyes widening in surprise. "A baby?"
I reassure her that I think they will get along well when they meet. She smiles and admits that she has always wanted a sister. However, her expression changes as she remembers something. She pouts and sadly tells me that her father said it might be difficult because she doesn't have a mother. I feel a pang of pity for her and regret bringing up the topic.
Thankfully, Mrs. Jackson interrupts us by inviting us inside where the others are waiting. I offer my hand to Alessa, and she seems shy but takes it. Together we enter the house, leaving Mrs. Jackson to close the door behind us.
The delicious smell of food greets us in the foyer - grilled turkey wings, mashed potatoes, and other mouth-watering dishes that make my stomach growl.
No, I am ravenous.
