Patty motioned to the seats at the dining table. “Let’s get started, shall we? Piggy and Teddy Monster and Pooh want to ask you questions, Miss Becky.”
Mary sat at the head of the table, sitting on her knees so she was taller. She hadn’t done this with the other candidates, as their interviews had been more formal. But she’d voiced her opinion about interviewing Becky. Mason, of course, was against it, but Brad always—sometimes excessively—accommodated every little wish of Mary’s.
Becky sat right by Mary as we all took our seats. I was opposite of Becky. Brad was beside me and then Mason. Somehow, we always ended up sitting in birth order, as though we subconsciously knew our place.
Mary raised her fluffy pink stuffed pig. “Piggy wants to know what you know how to cook and what you’ll be feeding us.”
“Well, funny enough, cooking is one of my specialties.” Becky smiled.
The corner of my lips tipped up. My eyes flickered to her shimmering lips again, and I shifted in my seat, an unease filling my chest because …
Shit, I am checking out the nanny.
“What do you like to cook?” To my surprise, the question fell from my mouth.
Everyone’s eyes turned toward me. The last few interviews, I hadn’t said a word, mostly because Mason and Brad led them all. I had simply observed.
I cleared my throat. “The girls don’t have allergies, so that’s a good thing. I know there are a ton of kids at their school who have allergies, and that’s tough, so I’m glad our girls don’t have any.” And now, I was rambling, and I didn’t ramble normally.
All eyes were on me still, as though I’d grown an extra set of ears.
I tipped my chin toward Mason. “Mason is pretty strict with their diet, so I don’t have to be. Do you want to go through your restrictions?” I adjusted the collar of my shirt, feeling heat creeping up my neck.
Is it hot in here? Yeah, it is hot in here.
I stood and looked at the thermostat. Nope, a pleasant seventy degrees.
I took my seat as Mason plucked out a list of approved foods from his portfolio and passed it to Becky. “Yes. So, I just make sure they get in more protein than carbs. I minimize their sugars, and there are no preservatives or sugary drinks in the house. Fresh-squeezed orange juice is okay.”
Becky fumbled for something in her purse. “Okay. Maybe I should take notes.”
Brad shook his head. “Don’t worry, Becky. As long as they are not starving or dehydrated, you’re straight. Don’t bother with Mason. He was dropped on his head multiple times when he was younger.” His mouth quirked up in humor.
Mason threw him a look, and I knew in about two seconds, they’d be at each other’s throats again, so I changed the subject quickly. “Sarah, do you have any questions?”
She blinked up at me and slowly shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip.
My eldest internalized a lot, and it took great effort on my part to get to the bottom of what she was actually feeling. I made a mental note to take her out later for a daddy-daughter date.
Nat had always been attuned to Sarah, knowing if something was bothering her before it got out of control. I had to remind myself to be focused and present and to be aware, and I usually was with Sarah. I’d have to know more of her thoughts later when I spoke to her.
“Okay, girls, you guys can leave and let us handle it from here,” I said, pointing to the door.
Patty ushered the girls out, and after they left, Mason started his regular questions that he had for every candidate.
“So, Becky, can you tell us a little about yourself and your past work experience?”
She visibly swallowed, and Patty shot Mason a look.
It was an easy enough question, but what Patty had told us earlier, I knew we shouldn’t be pushing too hard.
Becky wrung her hands on top of the table. “Well … let’s see. I’m a certified nursing assistant. I got my certificate online and went to nursing school for a bit but didn’t finish because of life.”
Curiosity nibbled at my insides, and I rested my forearms at the edge of the table. I shouldn’t wonder what life event had gotten in the way of her getting her degree, but I couldn’t stop myself from wondering.