8. Valerie

8

VALERIE

I can’t remember the last time I smiled so much. Between the stress of school followed by the start of my time-consuming career, I’ve always had a certain level of stress hanging over my head that prevented me from enjoying life to its fullest. But these last two weeks have been filled with more fun and laughter than I could have ever expected.

That’s not to say taking care of kids is easy. I have a new healthy respect for childcare workers and stay-at-home parents after chasing after the twins for eight-plus hours a day. By the time I get to Dad’s condo each night, I barely have the energy to do more than eat and shower before I pass out in bed. I’m exhausted, but it’s a good kind of exhaustion.

I enjoy thinking up different ways of keeping Abby and Andy busy. We play different types of board games and card games when we want to stay inside. Sometimes, the twins think up new rules to incorporate into the games. They’ve come up with some creative ways to make games like Candy Land and Guess Who more of a challenge—and much more entertaining.

When we want to brave the Texas heat and play outside, playing in water is a must. Otherwise, we’d last fifteen minutes tops before seeking refuge back in the house’s air conditioning.

Abby and Andy are good at thinking of backyard activities that include water. Like the game of tag Carter drove up to find us playing yesterday afternoon.

The game was basically freeze tag, but with the rule that after the person wielding the water gun managed to hit one of the players who wasn’t “it”, they had to sprint back and touch the back porch step before returning to try and squirt the other player to win the game. Since there were only two participants who weren’t “it”, that was the only way a player had enough time to dive between the frozen player’s legs to unfreeze them to continue the game.

My shins and knees got pretty banged up from army crawling under six-year-olds legs, but hearing Abby and Andy laugh when I dove to the ground and squealing when the cold water hit me made the playtime injuries worth it.

Like I said, I haven’t smiled so much in a long, long time.

I rub the sleep from my eyes as I pad out of the guest room, following the scent of coffee to the kitchen. Dad insists on calling it my bedroom. While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t allow myself to call it that. I’m lucky to have a parent willing to take me in, but I don’t want to get too comfortable here. I’ll need to figure out my next step, and that includes moving out and living on my own again.

But there’s no rush at the moment. Especially not when I’m working as Carter’s nanny.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Dad sits at the kitchen island drinking coffee. A newspaper lies on the counter next to him.

“Good morning.” I smile at him and then make my way to the coffee maker.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock.” I open the top cabinet and take out a mug with a picture of me and Dad at a theme park. I’m ten in the photo, smiling with a mouth full of braces while Dad sports a mustache that makes him look like a television star from the eighties. “How about you?”

“I slept well.” He pauses to take a sip of his coffee. “You got in late last night.”

The words don’t sound like an accusation, but I feel the need to explain myself nonetheless. “Yeah, I stuck around for a bit after Carter got home. He seemed a little wound up, and I thought I could keep the twins occupied for a little longer while he chilled out.”

I don’t know, exactly, what transpired at Carter’s appointment earlier that day, but I knew it had something to do with his lawyer. My deduction skills led me to believe the meeting had something to do with his custody dispute with his ex. Considering his mood when he returned, it hadn’t gone well.

Carter did his best not to hide it from the twins, but I know they picked up on their Dad’s sullen mood. They both shot him concerned glances during our game of Hangman.

“That’s a shame,” Dad replies, pulling my thoughts back to the present. There’s an undercurrent of meaning in his words that makes me antsy. “That it didn’t go well, I mean.”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “It is.” I pour the coffee halfway into the mug, then turn around and lean back against the counter as I take a sip. “Did you know Carter doesn’t drink coffee?” I blurt.

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah.” I take another sip. “Weird right? I don’t know how the guy stays awake all day without it.”

“Hm.”

I should stop talking. I have no idea why I feel the need to talk about Carter, but I can’t seem to stop. “And he wears glasses. That took me by surprise.”

“Did it?”

“Yup.” I avert my gaze to avoid my dad’s assessing eyes. I’m acting strange. I know it. I try to come up with a reason why. Eventually, I say, “It’s strange for me to see someone like Carter be so… normal.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “He’s a football star, but you wouldn’t know it from his lifestyle. Carter lives in a modest home in a small town. He is raising his two kids on his own, and he wears glasses when he could easily afford laser eye surgery.” I shake my head and stare down at the brown liquid in my mug. “It’s just… weird is all. He isn’t what I expected.”

“Does that disappoint you?”

My eyes fly up. “Of course not.”

Dad tilts his head to the side and hums a noncommittal sound before sipping his coffee once more. He doesn’t say anything else.

I know what he’s doing.

He’s waiting me out, expecting me to fill the silence with more ramblings that will reveal far more than I intend. And information I’m not even sure I know myself.

I don’t give in to the temptation.

I change the subject. “What are you up to today?” It’s the last weekend before preseason games begin and the last weekend Dad will have off for six weeks until the Rough Riders play a Thursday night game. Which means it’s the last weekend I’ll have off for six weeks as well.

“I’ll probably go for a run around the neighborhood before it gets too warm,” he replies. “What about you?”

“I have a phone date with Megan this evening. Other than that, nothing.”

He frowns. “You don’t have any friends to hang out with?”

Ouch.

“Is that your subtle way of asking me if I’m a loser who doesn’t have any friends?”

“Of course not. I know you have friends.” He shakes his head. “But I do want to make sure things are going well for you. I mean, mentally.”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

He gives me a pointed look. “You uprooted your life at the drop of a hat. Forgive me for being a little concerned.”

Touché.

“I’ve already told you I’m fine,” I remind him.

“It doesn’t hurt to double-check.”

I respond with a subtle nod and then resume drinking my coffee, more than willing to let silence settle between us.

Dad resumes reading the paper. I move to sit next to him and occupy myself with scrolling through social media.

I’m not very active with the platform. Aside from the girl’s trip with Megan a few months ago, it’s been a long time since I did anything remotely worth sharing online. Some people share photos of their morning coffees or meals out at fancy restaurants, but that’s not my cup of tea. I enjoy seeing updates from my high school and college friends and seeing what they’re up to. It’s a way to feel connected to people even though it’s been ages since I’ve seen them in person.

I’m swiping through my feed, liking pictures of cuddly pets and tropical vacations when a pair of warm brown eyes that have become too familiar catch my attention.

People You Might Know: Carter Jones

I swear, technology is scary.

I’ve made a conscious effort not to search for anything about Carter on my phone. All my internet sleuthing happened on my laptop in incognito mode. I wasn’t sure how it would happen, but I didn’t want any trace of my internet stalking to get back to Carter.

But somehow, the app has been primed to believe I might know the football star. I bet it’s because my phone has been on the same network as his. Or the fact I have his number in my phone…

Damn technology.

I’ve done such a good job resisting the temptation of looking my boss up on social media. It’s hard enough keeping evidence of my attraction hidden when we interact at the beginning or end of the day, I don’t need to ogle him in the privacy of my own home. Or, rather, my dad’s home.

I peek at my dad. He’s engrossed in an article on the Metro News page. He doesn’t know the inner conflict raging war in my mind.

I chew the inside of my cheek and look back at my phone.

I shouldn’t do it… I shouldn’t click Carter’s profile.

Once I do, that’s it. The algorithm will know I have an interest in Carter Jones and I won’t be able to stop posts that involve the linebacker from appearing on my feed. Not unless I go into the app and find some way to block all mention of Carter Jones just to avoid being taunted by his charming smile and warm eyes.

Ugh. This is crazy.

So what if I look at Carter’s profile? It’s just pictures. Besides, Carter is a pretty private guy. I doubt there’s anything on the account that wouldn’t be public knowledge. Looking at it will be like reading an article about him in a sports magazine.

Using that logic, I say screw it and tap Carter’s picture to open up his profile.

This account is private.

Because of course it is…

What do I do now?

Chances are the app has registered that I’ve clicked this profile.

It might not be today or tomorrow but it’s eventually going to serve Carter’s profile to me again.

Will I be forced to endure this intense overreaction every time I’m tempted to view his social media?

Will it eventually escalate into something ridiculous like me making a fake account just so I can follow Carter and see what he’s hiding behind that privacy setting?

Because I’ve already considered that option… and that makes me feel like a lunatic.

I shake my head.

Enough.

I’m a confident, educated woman with a good head on my shoulders. I’m letting myself get worked up over nothing. Carter and I aren’t friends, but we aren’t strangers. I work for him. It isn’t like I’m trying to follow him as a fan. We know each other. People who know each other follow each other on social media all the time. Heck, my bosses from my internships in college follow my account.

I ignore the thought that they only followed me after I no longer worked for them. Things between me and Carter are different.

Yeah, because you’ve both seen each other naked.

I ignore the lewd thought and inhale a determined breath, holding it as I tap the “follow” button and then quickly exit the app.

I exhale. My ears burn and my cheeks heat.

Was that a good idea?

I consider opening the app and hitting “unfollow”, but acknowledge there’s no point. Carter will get a notification of my follow request no matter what. If I take it back now, it will just look weird.

No, I made my decision. Now, I need to own it.

“Everything all right, sweetheart?”

My eyes fly to Dad. He’s back to watching me over the edge of his ceramic mug. This time, I swear there’s a glint of amusement in his gaze.

“Yeah.” I force a smile that I’m sure looks awkward. “Everything is great.”

I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I think the corner of his lip twitches before he hides it behind his mug once more. “I’m glad to hear it.”