I smelled weed. The strong, distinct stench of skunk. The scent would have been fine if I were still in college or out at a club or anywhere but here in my home, at the long dining room table, sitting opposite of the woman we were interviewing to be the nanny of my two small children.
She leaned back on the chair with one ankle crossed and rested on the opposite knee. Her hands settled behind her neck. She was so relaxed that I wondered if she’d fall asleep soon.
Our long-term nanny was leaving, and my brothers and I needed to find her replacement.
The brunette seated in front of me was dressed in a pressed suit, her makeup impeccable, which matched her stellar résumé. Everything was perfect, except for the fact that she reeked as though she were growing the plant in her purse.
Mason, my youngest brother, seated to the left of me, flipped to the next page of his portfolio. Erica Michelle Jones’s name was neatly printed on the top tab. Mason had done a file on each candidate, complete with their résumé, background check, and list of questions he was going to ask. He had led the way in contacting the top nanny recruiting firms and gone through numerous résumés to pick the best of the best for his nieces.
Brad, the middle brother, sat to my right. The way his eyes were downturned and how he covered his mouth to hide the smile creeping up his face, I knew he was well aware of the smell emanating from the woman in front of us.
If Mason was aware of the stench, I would never guess it as he ticked off question after question on his detailed interview sheet.
Brad laughed and coughed to cover it. Given his playfulness, you would think he was the youngest out of us three. Nope. He was the most arrogant, and he suffered heavily from MCS—middle child syndrome—meaning he needed the most attention. When another cough-laugh fell from Brad’s mouth, Mason shot him a look of disdain. I wouldn’t doubt it if Brad was getting high from the fumes. I shook my head and then rubbed at my brow.
Mason smiled, shut the file folder, and stood to shake her hand. “We’re highly impressed with your qualifications. We’ll definitely be in touch.”
When he pushed out from his chair, Brad and I followed suit.
And as soon as she left, Mason dropped to his seat and began writing detailed notes. “I think she’s the best one we’ve interviewed so far.”
I didn’t have to say a word because Brad threw up his hands, laughing. “Are you serious? She smelled like she was born on a cannabis plant.”
Mason’s head shot up from the file folder, and he lifted an eyebrow.
“You didn’t smell that?” Brad said, pointing to the door where Erica had just left.
“I wasn’t really concerned with how she smelled. I was too busy interviewing her about her work history.” Mason shook his head as though we were the crazy ones. “Maybe it’s her perfume.” His eyes were focused on his paper as he continued writing his notes.
I nearly laughed out loud but caught myself. Didn’t he know what that stank was? Of course, Mason had never tried weed.
We were three brothers who had grown up in the same household, but we were different in every sense of the word.
Where Mason was meticulous and lived his life following a straight line, Brad was the opposite—rambunctious, playful, and one who would never settle down. Me, on the other hand? I’d been in one serious relationship since high school—the love of my life, the mother of my children. My life had been perfect until that split second when she left this world.
The smile slipped from my face. On cue, whenever Natalie filtered into my thoughts, my eyes would shut briefly, and I’d relive the moment she’d died, as though she were in the room with me. The memories were so vivid sometimes that they pulled me under to where I was immobilized.
I swallowed, pushing down the pain that always seemed to surface whenever my thoughts flickered toward the past.
“Daddy!” Mary, my almost four-year-old, skipped into the room. Her blonde curls bounced when she walked. She was the spitting image of her mother—the blonde in her hair, the blue in her eyes, the way her smile lit up the room.
Brad scooped her up in his arms before she got to me, nuzzling her neck and tickling her sides. “Sweet Mary. What did we