Make Me Yours(75)

Back at the house, I pace in front of my computer. I’ve had this idea in my head since my conversation with Stephen, and it’s only grown stronger with every passing day. It seems impulsive and ill-advised, but truth be told, Buddy cemented the deal.

Last week I ordered the ring, and tonight, I’ll sit down with Lillie and ask if she’s okay with what I’m planning to do. I’m pretty confident she’ll be onboard with the idea.

Then I simply set the stage for it to happen…





34





Ruby


The text from Remi blasts in my face. Would you be able to take Lillie to school? Emergency errand. May can watch til you get here. Thanks.

I’ve got to stop falling asleep with my phone in my hand.

Rubbing my eyes, I glance at the clock. Seven fifteen! I throw my feet out of bed. Buddy lifts his little head, seeming as annoyed as me at this unexpected intrusion.

“Come on, Bud.” I grab him off the bed and carry him to the back door.

Thanks to my little helper, he’s gotten to where he goes outside, does his business, and comes back when he’s done. Lillie is taking responsible pet ownership very seriously. I just love that girl.

I especially enjoy the afternoons spent talking to her dad while she mothers Buddy like he’s the only Miniature Schnoodle on the planet.

Stepping into old sweats and pulling on a turtleneck, I gather my hair into a messy bun and grab my mug of coffee. I’m going to have a chat with Remington about unscheduled emergencies like this. Yes, I’m still Lillie’s nanny, but I’m not Miss “Drop of the Hat” girl. I wouldn’t have stayed up all night finishing my painting if I’d known I was getting up at the crack of dawn.

Stopping in front of the easel, I smile. The portrait is similar to the original, a woman in a black dress with a sleeping toddler on her shoulder, but my woman’s hair is shining black, her profile is mine, and the toddler is clearly Lillie. I have to say, I captured her angelic face and golden curls pretty damn well. I call it “Caregiver and Sleeping Child.”

I love giving her care.

“Come on, Bud.” I step into my black Uggs and scoop him under my arm.

Lillie will be thrilled to see her puppy before school. I also love spoiling that child.

Only because she’s sweet about it.

If she were a little shit, I might not feel so spoil-ey.

Damn, I’m grumpy when I’m awoken unexpectedly.

“Lillie! Time for school.”

“Ruby!” She squeals from upstairs, and Buddy goes bananas wiggling under my arm.

“All right, all right, Bud.” I put him down, and he high-tails it to the stairs.

It’s his first time in this house, but I swear to God, he scampers up those stairs like he knows exactly where his human lives. I stand in the grand entrance and watch his little apricot butt climb two flights, three flights, and take a sharp right at the top floor.

Half a second later, she’s squealing his name. “Buddy!”

Lots of little-girl chatter and good mornings and she runs out on the landing holding her puppy as he strains to lick every square inch of her face.

She laughs so loud and squeal-ey, I start laughing, too.

“Don’t drop him,” I call, heading for the kitchen. “I’m getting another cup of coffee. Hurry up before you’re late for school.”

“Hey, Miss Ruby! I’ve got to get to school.” Matilda, the teen who lives next door gives me a wave before walking back to her house.

“Thanks, May.” It’s interesting to me how relaxed and easy being here feels without Eleanor’s presence lurking around every corner. It almost feels like home to me.

Silly thought. I shake it from my mind.

A pounding of feet followed closely by the scuff of doggy toenails, and Lillie and Buddy are both in the kitchen. Lillie dances around in a sea-green skirt and matching mermaid tee. Her leggings have mermaid scales in the pattern.

“Hey, butter bean, take Buddy out real quick and make him pee before we leave for school. I don’t want him going in my car.”

She calls him and they both run across the living room for the patio door. I lean against the counter watching them go, wondering if puppies and preschoolers just naturally go together like peas and carrots—to quote Forrest Gump.

We’re in the car, and I’m contemplating car line while Lillie plays with Buddy, who’s riding right beside her in his little puppy seat belt.

“Can I bring Buddy in to show the class?” Lillie’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.

“No, baby, I’m not dressed to go inside today. Look at me.” I’ve been making a point to dress executive nanny for every pickup since that black Friday.

“I think you look pretty.”

I’m sure she’s being truthful. Lillie has no concept of fashion yet.

“Yeah, but you’re biased. I’d rather look a little less ratty when I go inside.”

“Because of the mean moms?”

My jaw drops. “What are you talking about, Lil?”

She only shrugs and goes back to singing to Buddy. He’s heard the entire soundtrack of Lady and the Tramp. I don’t force her to elaborate. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times, little kids notice everything.