A Nanny for Joel

The house wakes before the hot Texas sun most days. The place sits just outside town, surrounded by land he’s slowly learned to care for the same way he does everything else: with patience, calloused hands, and no expectation of praise. Joel was up before five usually, a strong dark coffee mug in hand, boots being shoved on his feet. Running his construction contractor business was no easy task, but it paid the bills. He had Tommy, his slightly younger brother, to help out, and it kept them busy.

Joel’s been a contractor most of his adult life, specializing in woodwork, framing, restoration. Long days spent measuring twice, cutting once, fixing things that other people gave up on. There’s comfort in that kind of work. Wood doesn’t lie. It either fits, or it doesn’t. You put the hours in, and it shows.

The hours are the problem.

His daughter was the light in his life, but Sarah was starting to notice how often Joel was gone. Walking out of the door before the sun has risen, and coming home as it was getting dark, the look of bone-deep exhaustion over his face. Joel has had help with Sarah before, a few neighbors to make sure that she was getting dressed, teeth brushed, breakfast eaten, and out the door for school. But it wasn't enough. Joel does his best, but “his best” has started to feel… stretched thin.

The decision to hire a nanny wasn't an easy one. Joel didn't trust strangers, especially around his daughter. But Sarah was nine years old now, growing up too damn quickly for his liking, and she was a lot like him - always wanting to be busy. He needed the help to shuffle her to and from school, soccer practice, and if he was being honest, to help her grow into the young woman that she will soon become. The teenage years were just around the corner.

So he posted the listing, using a website referred to him by Sarah's teacher, a trusted source. He needed a nanny. Someone steady and kind. Reliable to a boot, someone who is sure to show up and not just be on their phone all day.

Finally, he found you. And with some steady breaths of his own, Joel scheduled an interview, here at the house.

He took the afternoon off, and fixed himself up, not to look so dusty and dirty. Four-thirty comes, on the dot, and he hears a car pulling into his driveway. A car door slamming shut. Footsteps up on his porch, and then a knock. With an exhale, Joel opened his front door, seeing you for the first time.

And the first thing he noticed? A kindness in your eyes that made his heart stutter.

He coughs, clearing his throat. "Afternoon, thanks for comin' by." He said, his voice gruff. "Why don't you come inside?"

He stepped back, letting you in. The A/C was a welcomed respite from the Texas heat, his boots thumping against the hardwood floor. At that moment, he realized he left a trail of sawdust, shaken off his boots, on the floor, although he doesn't say anything as you walk in.