Author's Note: This story is cannon compliant, apart from the existence of Daniel's twins, and Steph, and a few small things those differences cause, so don't believe everything Steph says. She is a naïve narrator.
"Are you all right, miss?" a man across from me on the bus asks.
"Fine," I say. I'm not, but there is nothing this poor stranger can do about it. You can get used to anything after a time, even a panic attack. I've been riding this bus and having panic attacks every day for a week in the hope that I would be able to have one without looking like I'm having one.
I failed.
Oh, well. I've still got to do it. I've hidden long enough. In one week, a mere seven days, I'll have aged out of foster care. I need a job. I need a place to live. In order to do these things, I actually have to leave the house.
The bus stops. I get off, and take a few deep breaths. One block. I just have to walk one block. At the end of the block, there will be babies. I like babies. I can do this.
Doorbell. I haven't rung a doorbell in four years. I might as well go home. No. Adapt. You're stronger than this. Knock.
"Hello, are you the four o'clock for the nanny interview?" the man says as soon as he answers. He's tall, and built like a wall. He's good-looking, but old enough where it's just a general observation and not about my feelings for him. He's not really what I expected. Sure guys in their forties have newborns, of course they do. I'm being old-fashioned.
That's what happened when you've barely been in the world for four years.
I nod. I'll probably have to speak before this interview is over. I can do that. Speaking, that's not hard. I do it every day. To babies. Or to Mrs. Wilson. Not to strangers, that would be new.
"Come on in, Ms. Conner, correct?" he says.
"Yes, sir." That was good. It sounded downright military. This guy is military, he moves his body like he's military. I didn't know my voice did military anymore. I hand him my resume.
"Daniel, the next nanny candidate is here," the man calls as we walk through a hallway. There are pictures on the wall, pictures of the door-answerer and a pretty little blond woman. They've got a kid about nine, blond long hair, the door-answerer's eyes and a smile that melts hearts.
The ad didn't say anything about a nine-year-old. I'm way better with babies.
There is a man on the couch, and he's known grief. He'd be tall, too, if he was standing. He's thin, and those clothes aren't his. They belong to the other man. His long hair and glasses are hiding eyes that would be beautiful if they weren't so used to crying. This guy's been through a lot, for a long time before whatever just hit him.
He's holding the babies, one in each arm. Beautiful babies, young though. They can't be a month. I've never talked to babies that little. I hope they listen like the older ones.
He looks at me. You know what I mean. Like most people, their eyes just touch your face, and that's it. Then once and a while someone looks, really looks. Usually what that happens, I'm terrified. I don't want to be seen. It's like having your soul stripped naked, and I really hate my soul.
When Daniel looks at me, I don't mind. I see him as clearly as me, and there are people you don't mind going naked-souled around.
He tries to stand up, but the babies fuss, so he sits back down. "Ah… take a seat," he says. Then he looks down at those babies with this look of love. Pure, unadulterated love.
Yeah, I need to be here. Babies and love.
"So, Stephanie," first name, why not, soul-looker? "Tell me why you want to be a nanny."
Lie, girl. "I am interested in developmental psychology, and I would like to get some practical experience before I start my degree." Not even a quiver. How come these guys aren't scaring me senseless? They are big men. Still, I know they'd never lock me in the basement.
"You have experience caring for children?" Daniel asks.
"Are you kidding? She's like twelve, you can't expect her to have experience," the door-answerer responds.
"Nearly eighteen," I correct.
"Nearly?" the man repeats, with raised brows.
Daniel thinks he is funny, but is pretending not to, "Jack," he scolds.
"For the past three years, I have been providing care for a variety of infants for nine hours every workday."
"In what context?" Daniel asks.
"I looked after the babies while my foster mother worked," I admit. He's staring at my soul. He's making me honest.
"That lazy…" Jack starts.
"No, she's a saint. It was my choice," I say firmly.
"What about school?" Daniel asks gently.
"I graduated from high school when I was sixteen. I've taken some online college classes since then." Four semesters, during which I did six semesters of work.
Small smile from Daniel. Pity from Jack. "Another freaking genius. I just can't escape you," Jack mutters.
So Daniel's a genius. I'm not surprised, although it should be against the law to have that body and intelligence. Not that I'm looking; he's way too old for me, and gay, and his boyfriend is a little scary.
"Stephanie, do you have CPR training?" Daniel asks.
"I haven't been certified," you have to breathe into a dummy in front of people, "But I have taken four college-level classes concerning emergency medicine or biology."
"How are you in an emergency?" Jack asks, "You know, when the shit hits the fan, what do you do then?"
"Jack, I'm sure Stephanie has never had to deal with an emergency," Daniel interrupts.
"I froze in an emergency once. I've seen what that costs. The next emergency I was in, I didn't freeze."
Daniel looks at me silently for a few seconds. "You're hired."
"Daniel!" Jack objects.
"Hey, my decision. She's overqualified, brilliant, brave, and she's a foster kid about to be kicked out on her ass. Does that remind you of anyone?" Daniel says, looking up at Jack with those blue eyes positively sparkling.
Jack nods his assent.
"I am going to tell you some things that might make you decide you don't want this job. So if you change your mind, feel free. This job is going to be very unpredictable. Sometimes I'll be gone for days or weeks at a time. I work for the Air Force. Other times, I'll be around for days at a time, and you will be able to take time off."
I nod.
"This house is temporary. I bought a new one, but won't be able to move in for a month, so taking this job will make two moves. Of course, as a foster kid, you're probably not afraid of frequent moves."
"I was lucky, I only had one foster family," I say. If they'd tried to take me from her house, they never would have got me out. They barely got me out of that basement.
"Still in?" Daniel asks.
I nod my head.
He carefully stands up and the babies fuss, but get over it. Good babies. That's nice. I like the naughty ones, too. The naughty ones are a better distraction. "This is Kashta," he says to the baby on the right, "And here is Matia."
"Well, hello there, dear ones," I say. I was expecting a smile, but then I remember that if I got one, it would just be gas. I'm really not used to newborns.
"She does that dumb thing you do where you talk to them like they're adults," Jack says.
"So you're saying that I made the right choice," Daniel says.
"I'm saying that she's as crazy as you are."
"I'm not crazy."
"You are."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
Cute couple.
"Okay, I want to show you the room that would be yours for the next month. Keep in mind that you can still back out, this is temporary, and I'm sorry." With that, he pushes the door to a bedroom open. The room isn't big to begin with, and it's got two cribs, a changing table, a dresser and the usual baby litter all over it. There is a twin bed shoved in the corner, too.
Actually, strike the usual baby litter. This stuff is super practical, and there isn't enough of it. It's all newborn clothes and diapers. No toys. No clothes for later on. My stomach sinks. These babies are temporary?
"There is one more thing. I don't know how long I'm going to need a nanny for. It is possible I could be moving out of country with the babies. I wouldn't have a lot of warning. I'd like you to work for me as long as I need a nanny. I just don't know if that will be a month or a year or what."
So the babies aren't temporary, just this country. They were probably a bit unexpected as well, hence why they only got what the kids actually needed right now.
"Can I hold a baby?" I ask.
He lets me choose. Hard choice. Matia, she's the runt. "Gift of God, eh?"
"Don't tell me you found a freaking linguist!" Jack objects.
"Actually, it's not Greek, it's Ancient Egyptian. She is named after King Tut's nurse," Daniel says impressed by my previous knowledge.
"Well, if you're going with ancient African history, then that little man is named after the King of Kush, huh?"
"You know your history," Daniel says.
"He means, when can you move in?" Jack says over Daniel's shoulder.
"I don't need you to translate for me," Daniel says.
"Right, you're supposed to translate for me. Sometimes you just need a reminder to keep it pithy," Jack replies.
"Trade?" I ask, and Daniel and I switch babies. Kush, which I remember is a nickname for Kashta, may be bigger but his breath is a bit shallow. I wonder if these little things were born early.
"I could move in tomorrow, if that works for you," I say.
Daniel nods. "The money in the ad all right?"
I nod. He's providing food and board, and babies. He could give me a dollar a week, and I wouldn't care.
"I'm really sorry about the room," Daniel says with remorse.
"It's fine."
"She's got to learn to value herself more," Jack observes.
"I agree."
"You agree?"
"Yes."
"With me?"
"Yes."
"That's a first."
"It's not a first, Jack," Daniel objects.
"Pretty close, Daniel."
Then Jack gives Daniel a look of bemused affection. He's looking at his hair, and a strange look crosses his face.
I didn't see it at first. The grief in Jack's eyes. I missed it, because it's not as close to the surface as Daniel's. It's deeper, though. I've never seen grief like that. Well, at least not since the last time I looked in the mirror.