3. Sawyer

Chapter 3

Sawyer

The babysitter is impatiently waiting for me at the front door when I walk in, and she’s not happy with me.

“You’re paying me for the extra time, right?” she says by way of greeting, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I pay her well to start with, and I’ve never once stiffed her on overtime.

“Of course. I’m sorry, Brittany. I had to stop by my teammate’s place to pick up Jake’s rabbit, and?—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupts, although she’s clearly still annoyed. Fortunately, her expression softens when she turns to face my son. Brittany might be a bit of a handful for me to deal with, but I never would’ve hired her if she wasn’t good with Jake.

“See you later, Jakey,” she tells him, and he waves good-naturedly.

I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and grab several bills, then hand them over to her. She counts it quickly, checks her watch as if to make absolutely sure she got paid for every second, then gives me a nod and heads out the front door.

Once she’s out of sight, I huff a wry, exhausted laugh. It’s been hellish trying to piece together enough childcare for Jake with my busy hockey schedule, and I feel like I’ve had to repeat the mantra beggars can’t be choosers way too often lately.

But maybe that’s all about to change.

Could this really work out? Having Violet be Jake’s nanny?

There’s a slight flicker of unease that rises up in me at the idea. Not because I don’t trust her to take care of my son, but because… well, I’m not exactly sure why, honestly. But it’s drowned out by a rising hope that this could—at least in the short term—solve a huge problem for me.

Jake is on the couch, watching Bluey again. I guess there are worse things he could be doing, but I specifically asked Brittany to limit his time in front of the TV. I suppress a grimace as I sink down onto the sofa next to him.

“Hey, buddy.” I nudge his arm with mine. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What is it?” he asks, his gaze darting away from the screen. As soon as he sees the rabbit in my hand, he lights up.

“Chewy!” he exclaims, snatching the stuffed animal out of my hands and holding it tight against his chest. He beams happily, Bluey all but forgotten as he fixes me with a wonderous look. “Where did you find him?”

“You left him at Uncle Reese’s, just like we thought. Aunt Callie found him and left him on the couch for me to pick up after practice.”

Jake gives the rabbit another hug, then holds it out to look into its glassy, cartoonish eyes. “Silly bunny!”

“I have another surprise for you,” I add, and Jake’s eyes snap to mine. “What do you think about going to Strike Zone in a little bit?”

His eyes—nearly the same color gray as mine—open wide. “Really?”

“Yup, really.”

“Yay!” Jake bounces up and down on the couch with Chewy, holding the rabbit out like they’re dancing together.

“We have to leave soon though, so you know what that means.”

My son nods quickly, then scrambles off the couch, leaving Chewy behind. “Clean- up time!”

He darts around the living room, haphazardly putting away the toys he left out—and that Brittany failed to take care of—before zooming to his bedroom to tidy up in there too.

While he’s distracted, I go into the kitchen to see what other messes Brittany left for me, and although I’m disappointed to find a few dirty dishes left in the sink from their lunch, it could be worse. I rinse them quickly and put them in the dishwasher, and Jake races back into the living room a moment later and scoops Chewy off the couch.

“Got everything?” I ask, and he nods enthusiastically.

“Yup!”

“Did you wash your hands? Brush your teeth?”

His gaze darts sideways. “Well… I was gonna brush my teeth, but I’m gonna eat pizza at the?—”

“Step to it, mister.”

“But, Daddy?—”

“No buts.” I shake my head. “We never skip the pre-game warmup, remember? That’s how we lose the game.”

Jake wrinkles his nose but acquiesces, heading back upstairs to brush his teeth. I check the mail on the counter quickly, then make my way to the upstairs bathroom to check Jake’s work. He spits out the toothpaste and swishes with water, glancing at me in the mirror.

“Alright, let’s see ’em,” I say. Jake bares his teeth so I can inspect them, and I give him a thumbs up. “Good work, buddy. Don’t forget your rinse.”

“Do I have to?” He makes a face.

“Yup. Unless you want another trip to the dentist.”

Jake shudders dramatically. He got his first cavity a few months ago, and he did not enjoy that dentist visit, so he’s been pretty motivated to keep his teeth in tip-top shape since then. He reaches for the fluoride rinse, and I pull my phone out and tap the stopwatch app, then set it on the counter so he can see it.

“Sixty seconds on the clock.”

Jake puffs out his cheeks as he swishes the liquid in his mouth and flaps his arms, as goofy and animated as ever. He does this every time, but it still makes me laugh. He calls it the “Swish Fish” because he says it makes him look like a swimming fish.

“We’re almost out of time! Will he or won’t he score?” I ask in my best imitation of an announcer’s voice as the clock reaches ten seconds.

Jake jukes left and right in front of the sink as if he’s the Aces’ next star center, and when the timer goes off, he spins dramatically and spits the rinse into the sink.

“Goal!” We say the word together as we high-five. Then I nod, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Alright, let’s get in the car before we’re late.”

We head out the door together, but as I turn to lock up, Jake tugs on my arm. “Wait, Daddy, you didn’t do your gear check!”

I smack myself lightly on the forehead. “Duh! We always do the gear check.” I pat my pockets, making sure I’ve got my keys, wallet, and phone, then flash him a thumbs up. “Gear secured. Let’s get this game started.”

He races me to the car and flings the back door open to crawl inside. He flops into the booster seat and waits for me to buckle him in, just like we always do.

“Is anyone else coming? Maybe Uncle Theo or Uncle Reese?” Jake asks as we drive.

I glance at him in the rearview mirror. “Actually, someone else is coming, but not either of them. Do you remember Violet? Uncle Reese’s sister?”

Jake’s little face scrunches up as he searches his memory. “I think so. The pretty blonde lady?”

My heart stutters slightly because his description is way too accurate, but I ignore the sudden memory of her soft curves and nod at him in the mirror. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s meeting us at the bowling alley.”

“Why?”

“Well, we want to see if you two are a good fit. If so, she might become a sort of all-the-time babysitter for you. At least for a few months.”

“Oh.” His eyes widen. “Whoa.”

I can tell he’s a bit taken aback by the idea, mostly because I’ve resisted getting a nanny for him up to this point. I just never felt like I found anyone I could trust enough to be with him full-time, no one I felt like I could hand that much responsibility to. Reese and the other guys have been on me for months about it, encouraging me to find someone to ease the load on myself and make things easier for both Jake and me.

But if this ends up working out with Violet, it will be a big adjustment for us both. It’s just been the two of us living in the house ever since my split with Miriam several years ago.

Traffic is surprisingly light for this time of day, so we pull into the parking lot at Strike Zone right on time. As I help Jake out of the car and we start walking toward the entrance, I spot Violet waving at us from one of the big windows by the door.

She’s clearly very punctual, which is a good sign.

“Hi, Sawyer. Hi, Jake,” she says when we walk inside.

I nod in greeting, and Jake clings to my hand, leaning into me a little.

“Hi,” he replies tentatively.

She leans down to be more on his level, and my eyes unconsciously follow the movement. The image of her pale skin and the way her damp hair clung to her shoulders flashes through my mind again, and I shake my head slightly to clear it.

“Where’s your bunny?” she asks Jake. “He didn’t want to come bowling?”

Jake giggles, loosening his grip on my hand. “Bunnies can’t bowl. Everyone knows that.”

“Oh. Right.” Violet nods, putting on a very serious expression that makes Jake laugh again. “Of course.”

“Should we knock down some pins?” I suggest.

“Yeah!” Jake nods enthusiastically.

We check in and put on our rented bowling shoes, then follow Jake to lane seven, which is his favorite. There’s rarely a big crowd on a weekday like this, so we often have our pick of the place, but he always wants this lane.

“Come on, Ms. Violet, I’ll help you pick a ball,” he says, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the series of ball racks along the back wall.

I watch them analyze balls together, picking them up and seeing how the weight and shape feel. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can tell from the expression on Violet’s face that she’s having a good time with my son, and he definitely seems like he’s taking to her quickly too.

That’s a good sign. Maybe Reese was right, and this will work out perfectly .

A few minutes later, they return with their balls. Jake is carrying a neon green one, the same one he always picks, and Violet’s is lavender.

Jake beams at me. “It matches her name!” he declares. “See?”

Using both hands, he heaves his ball into the rack at the lane and starts tapping around on the screen built into it. His little fingers are fast as he types in “Jake,” “Dad,” and “Vilit” as the players. When the names appear on the scoreboard above the lane, Violet and I share an amused look, but neither of us bother to correct him for now.

“You remember how to get the bumpers up?” I ask, looking over his shoulder at the screen, but he’s already done it. They pop up from the sides of the lane a second later, blocking the gutters, and I turn to Violet with a chuckle. “This kid’s skills with technology never fail to amaze me. He’s better at this stuff than I am.”

“That’s ’cause you’re old , Daddy,” Jake teases, then devolves into giggles when I tickle him.

“That’s right, I am. So show your old man some respect.”

He laughs harder, and when I glance over at Violet, she’s watching us with a soft half-smile on her face, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. Our gazes lock for a moment, and she quickly straightens in her seat, as if a bit embarrassed to have been caught watching us.

“Ready to play?” she asks. “Jake, do you want to go first?”

“Yeah!”

We settle into the game, taking turns rolling our balls down the lane. I keep an eye on Jake and Violet as we all play, taking note of how he acts with her. He’s not really a shy kid, and he tends to get along with most people, but it can take him a while to warm up to them, especially if they’re adults.

But he seems to warm up to Violet quickly, cheering her on and even giving her a few pointers since she hasn’t bowled in a while.

When she gets a strike mid-way through the game, Jake bounds out of his chair to throw his arms around her. Laughing, she picks him up under his arms and spins him around, both of them squealing excitedly.

As soon as she puts him back on his feet and I see him beaming up at her, I know I’m in trouble.

Because they’re a perfect fit. I couldn’t have asked for or imagined someone better for the job—not that I’m terribly surprised by that. Violet has always been one of the sweetest, bubbliest people I know, and she hasn’t condescended to Jake once. She keeps meeting him on his level, literally and figuratively.

And I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t like what I see.

By the time the game is over, Jake is the clear winner, but I don’t think it’s because either of us let him win. He’s getting legitimately good at the game, no doubt from all the practice he’s been getting lately. And with Violet, he seems like he’s having the best time he’s ever had here at Strike Zone.

After we turn in our balls and shoes, I pull Violet aside for a moment while Jake carefully ties his shoes.

“So what do you think?” I ask her in a quiet voice.

She smiles, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “I think Jake is amazing. He’s a great kid, and he’s way funnier than anyone should be at his age. I can see why everyone loves him so much. You’re doing a great job with him, Sawyer.”

Her words make something warm expand in my chest. It’s like she knows exactly how much Jake means to me, and how badly I want to be a good dad to him, all just from playing a round of bowling with us.

So while this isn’t exactly the nanny situation I imagined for Jake when my teammates started pressuring me about it, now that I’ve seen him and Violet together, I realize I’d be crazy to pass up this opportunity that seems to have just fallen into my lap.

It may be a little awkward for Violet and me at the start, at least until we fully move past the whole “oops, I saw you naked” thing. But I think we’re getting along well too, and that’s equally important to me. I need someone I trust for Jake, and she’s more than meeting the mark.

Jake finishes up with his shoes and comes over to join us, gripping my leg like he’s about to climb a tree as he looks up at me. “Daddy, is Violet gonna be my all-the-time babysitter like you said?”

Violet’s big hazel eyes shoot to mine, and she raises her brows at me, waiting for an answer. After today, there’s no way I can say no, especially now that Jake seems to be practically begging for it.

“Would you like that?” I ask him, and he releases my leg to attack hers instead.

“Yeah! You’re fun, Ms. Violet. And we can go bowling every day until you’re as good as me.”

Violet smiles at him and ruffles his dark brown hair. “Well, as fun as that sounds, I think you’ll have to go to school some of those days. But we can play sometimes for sure. You can give me more tips.” She turns her gaze to me. “What do you think? I’m in if you are.”

I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. “Then the job is officially yours.”

I offer her my hand, feeling like we need some gesture to seal the deal. As soon we shake on it, Jake lets out a whoop and starts doing the dance moves he learned at Becca’s studio opening, shaking his shoulders and waving his hands in the air. But all I can focus on is the feeling of Violet’s soft, delicate hand in mine. The warmth of her palm is almost a shock to my system, as if I’ve been frozen in ice for years.

Clearing my throat, I release her hand and step back.

“You can move in tomorrow afternoon if you’re up for it,” I say. “I’m not sure if that’s too soon, or?—”

“No.” She shakes her head quickly, her hair gleaming like gold in the bowling alley’s dim light. “Not at all. I’ll only be here for a few months, so I’d love to get started as soon as possible.”

“Okay, great.” I scoop Jake up into my arms, and he wraps his legs around my waist, holding on to me. “Come by around five or so tomorrow. That will give me time to get the room ready for you. We’ve gotta head out, buddy. But we’ll see Ms. Violet soon, okay?”

“Yay!” He squirms excitedly in my arms, making both Violet and me chuckle.

We all head out to the parking lot together, and I make sure that she gets to her car before I strap Jake into his booster seat in mine. As I pull out of the parking lot, turning in the opposite direction from Violet, I can’t help but glance at my rearview mirror to watch her car disappear into the distance.

Jake chatters away happily, wondering what it will be like to have Violet live with us, planning what games they’ll play together, and declaring that he’ll have to introduce her to all of his favorite stuffies.

I nod along as I listen to him with half an ear, lost in my own thoughts about the change that’s about to sweep through our lives in the form of a bubbly, beautiful woman.

God, I hope this isn’t a big mistake .