especially toys. You can have a day off if you need it, without pay, if you tell me in advance. You’ll be responsible for keeping track of any and all of Shade’s appointments. He’s just turned four so he won’t be going into kindergarten this year but I might pay for pre-school. I haven’t decided yet, but if I do send him, you’ll be responsible to drive him. I do hope you drive.”
“Yes.”
“Good. I have a car you can use. You’ll do the shopping. Grocery shopping and anything else I need. If Shade needs something- clothes, shoes, anything, you’ll be the one who gets them. If Shade is sick, you don’t get a day off. I have a demanding work schedule and that’s part of the reason I need a nanny. I don’t take days off. I work seven days a week. Sometimes, I work from home in the office upstairs, and it’s vital that things are pretty quiet during that time. I do make sure that I’m home by five every night to spend the evening with Shade. It’s less vital that you’re around during that time, but I still might need you. If you want to take a break during those hours, please ask and have your phone with you so I can get in touch if I need to.”
“Okay.” She pauses. “Yeah. Okay. I can see why you need a nanny.” She pauses again. Her face gets a pinched, curious look and I know she can’t help herself. “Why Shade? That’s a unique name.”
“By unique you mean stupid.”
Feeney’s lips curl up. Not in a snarl. Half in surprise, half in challenge, half a smile. “By unique I mean unique.”
No, this woman isn’t exactly pretty, but I can see how some men would find her beautiful. Normal men. Men who appreciate intelligence, wit, and spirit more than they do big boobs, a big butt, and massive lips. Most men would also probably appreciate her family’s money. I can’t imagine what kind of dates Feeney’s been on. Or endured. It can’t be easy, that’s for sure.
Unexpectedly, I feel myself softening just a little.
Other men would find her pretty, but I can’t. I can’t because I’m a thousand years old. Because my eyes don’t work properly. Because my emotions are shot. Because if I didn’t have a son, I know I would have crawled into the grave right alongside Britt and let them bury me too.
“Fine especially since this is coming from someone who calls herself Feeney.”
“It was my grandma’s name, and it’s special. She died before I was born.”
“Shade’s name is special too.” I should leave it at that. I shouldn’t be an asshole, but I can’t help myself. I guess it’s just a habit now. “His mother gave it to him because it meant something to her, and she’s also dead.”
I expect Feeney to get all weird and try to give me platitudes and say sorry and talk about grief like everyone else as if they know all about it when they haven’t lost a damn thing ever. But, instead, she keeps her face controlled and nods.
“I know. That’s why you need a nanny. And by unique, I meant unique, really. I did think it was kind of strange at first, but I have to admit it’s grown on me. Your wife did a good job with the name. And I’m sure with everything else too. I’m sure I’ll never measure up, and you’ll probably hate me, but if your son likes me, I hope you keep me around and give me some grace for his sake. Deal?”
This. Woman. Wow. Maybe she’s exactly what I need. Someone to tell it to me straight, someone who can stand up to me, someone who isn’t afraid of me and the massive black cloud of grief that follows me around everywhere, and someone who can fill even an inch of the incredibly large shoes Britt left behind.
“Deal,” I mutter and stand up fast.
No, Feeney isn’t just pretty. I can see how, after a while—my crushed-up emotions and dead insides not-withstanding—I might find her extremely beautiful too.
CHAPTER 4
Feeney
I get shown to a basic room with a double bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and not much else. There’s a big window, at least, but of course, the blinds are shut tight. It is indeed right next door to Shade’s room, which thankfully shows some signs of life. The bed is one of those loft beds, and it has a blue canopy overtop. Underneath,