A Very Merry Nanny (Very Merry #2)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

HUDSON

C olby screams at the top of his lungs, throwing a tantrum in his Batman costume. His face is bright red, and his lips are swollen.

“Mimi is taking you trick-or-treating tonight. You love the parade,” I remind my son in the calmest voice I can muster. He turns five in a month and has been struggling to adjust to preschool and new schedules.

When he melts down, I let him express his feelings for as long as he needs. I’ve read countless parenting books and joined various forums, determined to provide him with every ounce of support I can.

As his cries continue, I sit on the floor, crisscrossing my legs beside him.

“Wow, Bee! Your Batman costume is awesome. Look at that symbol on your chest!” I point to it.

I’m good at refocusing his attention, a superpower he doesn’t recognize.

He takes a ragged breath and sniffles as tears stream down his cheeks. “It’s a bat.”

“Oh really?”

He nods as I trace the outline of the symbol with my finger.

For months, I worried that I had done something wrong as a parent. My mom explained that she went through a similar phase with me at my son’s age. She handled it differently, enrolling me in extracurricular activities, which worked because my issues stemmed from the adjustment of becoming a big brother. I know how fortunate I am to have been raised by supportive parents who attended every talent show, luncheon, and football game. They’re amazing grandparents, too.

Many of Colby's challenges are rooted in feelings of abandonment, which is why I constantly remind him that I’m not going anywhere.

I still worry that I’m not doing a good job as a dad. Perhaps I always will.

From what I gather, no one really knows how to raise kids; they simply figure it out as they go. Honestly, that thought is terrifying, too.

“Hands down, you’ve got the coolest Batman costume I’ve ever seen,” I tell him. “In my entire life. And I’m old.”

“Really?” He blinks, wiping the tears from his face.

“Dude, yes, really.” I squeeze the padded muscles on his arms. “Flex for me.”

He lifts his arms and strikes a pose.

“Your turn,” he says.

I mimic him, peeling up my shirt to show my bicep.

“Nice, dad.”

I grin. “Ready for candy?”

“What kind?” he asks.

“All of them. Which ones do you want?”

“Snickers! And Tootsie Rolls!”

“Yum. Will you share?”

“Yes!”

He’s a sweet kid with a big heart who loves to give.

In August, I spoke with his pediatrician about the meltdowns and have been practicing my approach. Redirecting his attention is the only thing that works when he's spiraling. It requires my undivided attention and softly spoken words.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, and Colby bolts toward it as the knob turns. The pads of his feet pound against the wooden floor as my mom enters.

Her brows furrow. “Honey, you good?”

“Perfect,” I reply with a smile.

“Mimi!” Colby laughs and stretches his arms wide. My mom lifts him onto her hip, showering him with compliments and kisses.

“Baby, you're getting so heavy,” she groans. He may not even be five yet, but he's already taller than many kids his age; it's the Jolly genes at work. He'll hit six feet before he’s fourteen.

Everyone thinks he’s older than he is, but he doesn’t turn five until December 1st.

“Ready to go, Batman?” Mom asks.

He nods eagerly, like going trick or treating was his plan. If my mother had shown up ten minutes earlier, the night would have been canceled. Her timing is always perfect.

“Put your boots on, please,” I tell him.

He slides down from my mom’s arms and dashes to his room.

Mom watches me as I stand.

“Another meltdown?”

“Only the second one this week. It’s progress, at least.”

She offers me a small smile. “You look tired, son.”

“I’ll catch up on sleep later.”

“How about I bring Colby back to you after dinner tomorrow? That'll give you some extra time to get organized before Monday.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“Have a good night,” she adds with a brow lifted.

“Have a good night, Ma.”

“At least try to have fun?”

“I’m gonna have the best time,” I respond, my tone dripping with sarcasm. Honestly, I’m tempted to skip it altogether.

Mom tilts her head. “Who’re you trying to fool?”

“Myself. I’d rather stay home, binge on slasher films, enjoy a few beers, and hit the hay before midnight.”

“You can do that any day of the week. And who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

I exhale heavily. “Mom.”

“It would be nice to see you happy again.”

“I am happy.”

She raises a brow, unconvinced.

“I am,” I assert. “I have everything I need. You’re starting to sound like Mawmaw. No one in Merryville has caught my eye, and I don’t have time to waste dating random women.”

Before she can respond, Colby races past us and bolts outside.

“Wait, his candy bucket!” I grab it from the kitchen table and hand it to her.

“See you tomorrow,” she says, waving goodbye. “He’ll be good and sugared up for you.”

“Lucky me. Thanks again, Mom.” I stand back, watching him climb into the booster seat in the back of her SUV.

“I love you, Bee,” I say.

Colby leans forward, slipping his mask over his eyes. “Love you, Dad.”

“Be good for Mimi, okay?”

He nods and gives me a thumbs-up. Soon, they’re out of sight, heading down the gravel road.

My house resembles my childhood home, where my parents still live. The layout is ideal, even if it feels too spacious for just Colby and me. I once envisioned a different life and dreamed of having a large family.

Once upstairs, I consider texting Jake and canceling. But then I remembered the promise made to him, so I’ll suck it up and go. Begrudgingly.

My costume, a near-perfect replica, took months to assemble. I had the chest plate and armor custom-made, the gloves hand-sewn, and my boots shipped all the way from Europe. It wasn’t cheap, but I’m guaranteed to have the best costume in the room.

After getting dressed, I grab my helmet and leave. As long as I show up and make my presence known, I'll fulfill my promise. I'll stay at least one hour. My brother might be disappointed, but at least I kept my word.

I take the four-wheeler through the forest that separates our houses. The sun has already set, and my headlights illuminate the path ahead.

A chill washes over me, and I’m grateful for the layers of my costume, even though they’re not quite enough. I plan to spend most of my time by the bonfire anyway.

Jake’s cabin comes into view. The warm lights make the windows glow in the dark. Cars are parked along his driveway and fill the pasture beside his house.

People stream in and out of the house. As soon as I walk inside, Claire approaches me with a grin. She’s dressed as Little Red Riding Hood; her hair is styled in tight curls. The engagement ring on her finger sparkles under the fairy lights strung overhead.

I wrap my arm around her, and she snuggles in too close for comfort.

“Claire?” Jake calls out. When I turn my head, I see he’s also dressed as a Mandalorian. Claire immediately steps away from me, wide-eyed.

I shake my head and lift my helmet.

She playfully slaps my chest. “Asshole.”

Jake chuckles. “Nice costume.”

“How did you know?” I ask.

“I wasn’t told about the Mando party,” Lucas chimes in. He’s my annoying little brother, but I love him. At thirty-two, he works with me and Jake on the farm, and the three of us have always been close.

“This wasn’t planned,” I explain. “I kept my costume a secret to avoid exactly this.”

“Well, I did the same,” Jake adds.

Claire stands in front of us. “The more I drink, the harder it'll be to tell you apart.”

“I doubt he’ll leave your side again,” I say.

Jake wraps his arm around his Little Red. “Damn right.”

More people arrive, and Claire welcomes them with gelatin shots. Jake hands me a flask, and I take two big swigs.

“Ew. What is this?” I ask, handing it back.

“Moonshine.”

“Did you make it in the toilet?”

“Nah, my garage. I’ve been practicing.”

“Gross. Warn me next time before you give me some nasty stuff. I’m not your test subject.”

He leads me into the kitchen, gesturing to the purple liquid in a cauldron. “This punch is great, but it’ll knock you on your ass, so be careful.”

I fill a plastic cup to the brim and down it in one go.

“Damn. You gettin’ lit tonight?”

“I’m only staying for an hour.”

He removes his helmet completely. “No.”

“Yes. I promised I’d be here. I never promised I’d stay all night.”

Everyone thought my reclusiveness was just a phase and that I would eventually return to my old self: easygoing and even fun. But being abandoned with a newborn son during the holidays changed me. Now, I prefer solitude.

Jake refills my empty glass and hands it back to me. “Tonight, you’re having fun.”

“What’s that?” I smirk, downing the drink.

He flips his cape over his shoulder. “I have a feeling things are about to change for you.”

“Oh really? Did you consult your crystal ball?” The passion punch makes my cheeks flush and tingle.

Jake chuckles. “I’ll bet you.”

I shouldn’t entertain the idea, but it seems like easy money. “Give me the terms.”

“I bet you'll have a girlfriend by midnight on New Year's Eve.”

Laughter escapes me. “Is it considered cheating if I have control over my situation?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. When you find your person, nothing will stop you from being with her—not even a thousand bucks,” Jake says.

“Double it,” I counter.

“Triple it,” he retorts. “Three thousand dollars.”

He offers his hand, and I grip it firmly. “You’re so fuckin' stupid.”

“Can't wait for you to eat those words. Also, I expect to be paid before Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah. Cocky too. But the same goes for me. Payment is due before February 14th.”

“Deal,” Jake confirms, and we shake on it.

I can't remember the last time I did anything besides be a dad. And I have no plans to change my routine. I almost feel guilty, but he made the bet, not me.

“Just so you don’t try to weasel out of paying me: you believe I’ll find love before New Year's Day?”

“Yup. That’s right,” he replies.

“You're way too confident.” I narrow my eyes. “You don’t actually have a crystal ball, do you?”

“Nah. Just a hunch,” he says, as he scans the crowd for his fiancée.

The world fades away as I adjust my helmet. When the DJ cranks up the music inside, I slip outside to where it's quieter. A shiver runs up my spine as the cool breeze envelops me.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel captures my attention. Moments later, a BMW pulls into the property and parks in the field. When a pink Power Ranger steps out of the vehicle, I can’t help but laugh. It takes some serious guts to wear full spandex like that.

She checks her phone, the screen lighting up their masked face in the dark. I keep my eyes on her until she slips inside the house.

Jake's best friend Hank, dressed as Woody from Toy Story , approaches me. “Who's that? I didn’t recognize the car.”

“Not sure,” I respond. “Can’t place the body type either.”

“I think I'm gonna go find out.”

“Good luck with that.”

Hank walks away, and I move to a seat by the fire. When I lift my head, I see Hank approaching the pink Power Ranger. The costume leaves little to the imagination, and I doubt it's providing much warmth.

Hank says something, and his laughter echoes across the yard. From her body language, it’s clear she’s bored. After a few more seconds, she breaks away from him.

I stare at the flames as they dance toward the star-filled sky. I’m mesmerized by the sight as she sits beside me on the oversized log. Her presence is unnerving, and I've never been so grateful that my face is obscured from view. She pulls out her phone and types something furiously, then locks it.

“Didn’t I just see you inside?” she finally asks.

That voice.

It’s familiar.

I shrug.

“How have things been? Claire loves it here and has begged me to stay during the holidays. Maybe I'll flip a coin,” she tells me.

I give a thumbs-up, my heart pounding in my chest.

It’s Emma—Claire’s flirty and much younger sister.

I met her on the Fourth of July when Jake proposed.

Emma considered staying but left after just one day.

I had no idea she’d be here.

“Where’s Hudson?” she asks. “Claire said he was out here.”

I wish I could see her pretty face, the one I’ve been following on social media as she traveled around in her campervan alone these past few months. I should walk away, but against my better judgment, I turn toward her and remove my helmet.

She gasps. “Oh, um. You and Jake have the same costume?”

“By accident, trust me.”

She reaches into the tool belt of her costume and drops something into my gloved palm.

“I got Colby a dinosaur. If he still likes them.”

The T-Rex wears silly shoes and has a toothy grin. I try to hold back my grin but fail. “Thank you for this. I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Emma briefly met Colby, and he immediately fell in love with her. That was when I knew she needed to stay far away from me.

She removes her mask, revealing her dark red hair in braids. “You're welcome. Now I wish I had gotten you one, too.” She smirks as she stands. “Anyway, it was nice seeing you again.”

As she walks away, I realize I’m genuinely smiling.

It’s been a long time since a woman has had that effect on me.

Shit.