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“Now, you have everything you need,” he said, chuckling, then turning on his heel and walking out, shaking his head as he went.
This was not how I’d imagined my first day.
A FEW DAYS later, after my total humiliation in Kasey’s bedroom, and after what arguably had been some of the hottest sex I’d ever experienced in my entire life, the kids and I were falling into a nice little pattern. So far, they’d been nothing but sweet, and I was having a difficult time understanding why so many nannies had up and quit. As long as I kept them entertained, which required my constant attention, we all got along well. Plus, I learned what they liked and didn’t like to do.
Since they weren’t in pre-school, because their dads didn’t want them away from the house before they absolutely had to be, I was in charge of teaching them the basics. Since I would only be there for two weeks, less than that now, I decided on the important elements of the so-called basics. They all knew how to tie their shoes, even Hank, who made it clear he preferred that “sticky stuff” that held his shoes on rather than “strings.” They could count and recite the alphabet and even recognized some words. They could also print their names, knew their address, and call 911 on any phone if they had to.
As far as swimming went, they may as well have been fish. Never mind getting around on an electronic device. They knew much more than I could ever teach them.
For about a minute, I thought there wasn’t anything more they could learn from me, which would certainly lead to mass chaos, until I stumbled on the one thing none of them could do.
Play an instrument, read music, or even sing an entire song. A shortcoming of major proportions considering who their dads were. What compounded that shortcoming was the fact that the kids barely knew what their dads did all day when they were locked up in their music studio.
Since the kids weren’t allowed in there, they had no idea what went on behind the big double doors where no sound escaped. Not even Lucy was allowed in the room.
“Daddy works all day,” Emily said, as she climbed up the ladder to the highest slide on the space ship.
“But do you know what that work is?” I asked her, after she slid back down with a woosh.
She shrugged. “No.”
“Your daddy makes music.”
“Like the kind he sings to us at night sometimes?” Annie asked, as she played nearby with at least ten Barbie dolls. She and Hank were giving them rides on the dragons that were lined up in a row at the bottom of the spaceship.
“My daddy likes to sing, too,” Hank said. “But I only heard him sing when a lot of people came over.”
“Did you know your daddies are in a band?” I asked.
“Sure,” Emily said, snickering “Everybody knows that.”
“Do you ever listen to their music?”
“It’s too loud,” Hank said. “It hurts my ears.”
“Have you ever been inside their studio?”
“We’re not allowed,” Annie added, as she flew a Barbie with wild hair and a shiny dress around on a red dragon.
“I think it’s time for a few changes,” I said, as I sat on the grass next to them.
“They aren’t going to like it,” Hank said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, well, we’re going to have to change their minds about that. Are you guys willing to help me?”
“Will we get in trouble?” Hank asked.
“I’ll take all the blame. How’s that?”
He thought about it for a moment.
“Okay, but they still might not like it.”
I picked him up and twirled him around, laughing at how his mind worked. I couldn’t help myself. I was falling in love with these little rascals, and if I wasn’t careful, leaving them would be way too difficult.
But first thing’s first.
I intended to give the kids a healthy understanding of how to make music while I showed them what kind of work their daddies did all day. Hopefully, once I established a love of music, specifically country music, in the kids, I hoped like hell I could then work in my idea of their daddies signing with Marica Reynolds—my goal.
