Page 43 of The Overtime Kiss
Parker furrows his brow. “What is that?”
I quickly explain, trying to keep it light, but his reaction is instant. Parker crosses his arms. “Agatha let us get it,” he says, his tone defiant.
My stomach twists into knots. Tyler said he’s not into ultra-processed food, but maybe he allows exceptions? But if he does, am I supposed to be exercising those exceptions on day one? I replay our conversation in the kitchen, but mostly we just talked about hard-to-spell words. Crap. I didn’t ask about sugar and snacks, and gummy bears definitely have sugar. I don’t truly know if he has strict rules for his kids about food, or flexible guidelines. I don’t want to be the nanny who trounces willy-nilly on his home life.
I also want to stay firm so the kids know to listen to me.
Feeling a little torn, I make a game-day decision. “Tell you what,” I finally say, “I’ll buy it for now, but we’re going to need to check with your dad before you eat them.”
Parker stares at me. “Agatha let me eat them.”
Luna rolls her eyes. “Dude, Agatha’s not here.”
He glares at her. “Yeah. I know.”
“Maybe stop obsessing over her.”
“I’m not obsessing.”
“You kind of are,” Luna says, flicking her ponytail, like she’s had enough of this conversation.
I have to side with him on this—it’s not obsession. “I think he misses her, Luna,” I say, cutting in to come to his defense. I’ll have to talk to Tyler and ask him how to handle this sensitive area.
But Parker scoffs. “I don’t. Mom lets me have them too.”
Ouch. There’s nothing much I can say on that topic. Their mom is in their life, and I don’t want to step on her toes.
“Let’s move on,” I say firmly, since now’s not the time to dive into a tough talk. Instead, I set the bag in the basket and head down the aisle. It hits me then: it’s my first day at work. I’ve barely been on the job an hour, and here I am, breaking up an argument in the middle of the grocery store.
It’s almost as if competitive ice-skating is easier.
On the way home, I try to steer things in a more positive direction with Parker at least. Tyler had mentioned I could take the kids out for a fun activity—a park, bowling, something like that. I don’t want to be just the “grocery store and pickup” nanny. Besides, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s having fun.
“What do you two like to do after school? Do you like bowling?” I ask, trying to sound upbeat. “Mini golf? Scavenger hunts? Art classes? Bookstore trips?”
“Skating, mini golf, seeing friends. Going to the wildlife sanctuary,” Luna says, breezily.
My ears prick, remembering what her dad said on my wedding day when I told him about the doves I didn’t get—She’s obsessed with learning about animals.“Have you been to one? A wildlife sanctuary?”
She shakes her head. “No, but I want to,” she says, and I could hug her for being so direct and making my job easy.
“I’ll do some research,” I say, putting that at the top of my list.
“Also, roller skating,” Luna says, then takes a breath, maybe gearing up to rattle off more things she’d like to do.
“Noted. Keep ’em coming,” I tell her.
“Hula hooping. I heard that’s super fun. I also want to learn to skateboard.”
I get the feeling this enthusiastic girl could command a whole conversation, so I make sure to include her brother too. “Parker, what about you?”
“I want stickers for my ceiling,” he says. “Moons, and planets, and stars, and constellations.”
“That sounds cool,” I reply, picturing myself wishing upon shooting stars when I was younger. Maybe we can bond over that. “What about shooting stars? I used to wish on those before my skating competitions. Do you want stickers of those?”
He sighs heavily. “A shooting star is not a star. It’s a meteor burning up in the atmosphere,” he says, like I’m dumb and he’s a rocket scientist.
“Huh. You learn something new every day.” I peer into the rearview mirror, catching his blue eyes. “Maybe you can teach me about the stars, then?”
