Smitten with My Son's Nanny

Stellan-POV

“Silas, come on big boy, it’s time to get up,” I whispered, running my hand through my son’s golden blonde hair. He, the five-year-old, groaned like I was an annoyance as he snuggled deeper into his hot-wheels bed, burying his face in the pillow.

“Not yet, daddy. I’m still sweepy,” he mumbled.

He sounded cute, and I almost gave in—almost. “No sir, you should have gone to sleep instead of playing on your tablet past bedtime. Now get up, or I’m going to eat your pancakes.”

He instantly rolled over and bolted upright in bed as he kicked the blanket off. His Spiderman pajamas, which were almost too small, twisted awkwardly around his torso as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

“I’m awake, daddy!” he declared, moving to his knees and then to his feet, before jumping up and down on the bed.

I couldn’t match his energy, even on my best day. Was it just him, or did every kid go from zero to wide awake with just a swipe of their eyes?

He bounced a few more times, gaining momentum, and then launched himself into my arms. He hugged me tightly as I caught him, squealing like a little piglet as my fingertips danced along his ribs, and kicked his feet against my back as I spun us in quick circles.

“Stop!” He begged through his giggles. “No more tickles, Daddy! I gotta go potty!”

I slowed our spin, and didn’t tickle him further, recalling the consequence of that action from once before. There was nothing quite like getting urinated on at seven o’clock in the morning and I'd learned that in the worst way.

We air-planed into the bathroom and I crash landed him in front of his ‘big boy potty’. When he finished, I turned the water to warm and helped him wash his hands and face. I readied his toothbrush and coached him through a proper brush, before filling the plastic cup with his bubblegum mouthwash.

“Remember, don’t swallow it. It might taste good, but it will give you a bellyache,” I reminded him, handing him the cup.

“I remember Daddy! Mrs. Penny said to always be a spitter, not a swawower!”

Christ, I nearly gagged. The mere thought of the sixty-something-year old, Mrs. Penny, giving lessons on that subject was disgusting. I coughed a few times, clearing my throat as I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Why the fuck would she teach him to phrase it like that?!

Silas nudged my side with the empty cup, breaking my spiral of cringy thoughts. He spit the blue liquid into the sink and wiped his mouth with the washcloth before he hopped off the counter.

I couldn't have him repeating that, it was just...wrong.

“Yeah, let’s just stick with rinse and spit. We’ll keep it simple, okay dude?”

He eased past me, tiptoeing towards the doorway, before glancing back with a sly smirk on his face.

“Okay, daddy, rinse and spit…and…RACE YOU TO THE KITCHEN!” he shouted, dashing off through the bathroom doorway at lightning speed.

“HEY! YOU CHEATED!” I bellowed, jogging after him.

His head full of messy blonde hair disappeared around the corner, and he screamed like a banshee all the way down the hall, adrenaline and excitement getting the best of him.

“Careful on the stairs,” I yelled as he approached the landing.

He beat me to the kitchen, as he always did, and startled our chef, George Kincade, half to death in the process—as he always did.

I hired Georgie right after I bought the manor, so he’d been here about five years. He quickly became a part of the family, and I hired his wife, Mrs. Rosa, to be our housekeeper only a couple of months after I hired him. Shortly after that, they moved into the mother-in-law cottage at the rear of the property, and they’d been living here ever since.

“You’re going to scare this old man away one day, young Silas,” Georgie jested as we took our seats around the black marble island in the middle of the kitchen. “Then who will cook your favorite pancakes and make your chocolate milk?”

“Daddy! Daddy will make my pancakes and milk!” Silas shouted his solution.

I raised my hands in feigned ignorance, shaking my head at him. “I don’t know how to make pancakes or chocolate milk.”

He frowned as he thought about my words for a moment, contemplating their truth, and his gaze shifted to the steaming plate of chocolate chip pancakes as Georgie placed them in front of him.

“Then you have to stay, Mr. Georgie! I love your pancakes!”

Georgie and I burst into laughter. Even Mrs. Rosa’s chuckles could be heard from where she was cleaning in the dining room.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stay! But you must promise to eat all of your vegetables tonight at dinner…” Georgie countered.

Silas hated all vegetables, and he stared up at Georgie like he’d asked him to grow wings and fly around the kitchen. I couldn’t help the chuckle that passed through my lips as I studied his scrunched-up face and Georgie struggled to contain his amusement as well. He put his hands on his hips, tipped his head to the side, and tapped his foot, waiting for Silas’s answer.

“Fine, I’ll eat my veg-dibles if you stay,” he sighed, like it was the worst compromise he would ever make in his life. “And you have to teach daddy how to make chocolate milk!”

We fell out laughing again, and carried on with our normal morning banter as we finished up our breakfast. Silas beat me in our race back up the stairs and I got myself ready before getting him dressed in his school uniform.

It had become our norm the last few weeks since his previous nanny, Mrs. Penny, resigned. She'd said she was just ready to retire, but I knew it was because she couldn’t keep up with Silas any longer. He was a ball of energy from sunup to sundown, unless he was having one of his bad days, and thankfully, those were becoming less frequent.

After getting dressed, we grabbed our bags and made our way out to the garage, exchanging goodbyes with Georgie and Rosa on the way. I’d been taking Silas to school and picking him up every day. Not that I minded; I often took him anyway and let him choose our breakfast those mornings from a fast-food joint, which almost always ended up being Mc D’s.

I pulled out of the garage, and we made our way down the driveway, slowing as we waited for the automatic gate to fully open. The private academy that Silas attended was only a fifteen-minute drive from the manor, and in between the two was a public park.

“Daddy! Can we go to the park today?” he beamed, twisting in his seat to look out the window as we passed by it.

He asked every day, and every day I told him he had to wait until Friday. “What day is it? Is it Friday already?” I teased, placing a finger on my chin as if I wasn’t sure, and watched him through the rear-view mirror.

“Yes! It’s Friday!” he shouted confidently, bouncing in his high-back booster seat behind me.

“Well, then I guess we’re going to the park after school!”

Silas fist pumped the air with both hands as if he was shadow boxing with the roof of the SUV. “Yesss! I’m going to go down the big swide and swing on the big swings!”

I chuckled at his theatrics as we pulled into the student drop-off at his school. I put my BMW XM sport in park and walked around to help him out. “Alright, big guy, have a good day. I love you and I’ll see you after school, okay?”

“Okay, wove you too, dad!” He hugged my leg and then took off towards his teacher who was standing under the breezeway.

***********************

I scrolled through my emails as I waited in the pick-up line. It was nice weather, and I had the windows rolled down. I’d been leaving the office by two o’clock, so I'd be here before he got out of school, but my work never really stopped. I’d made a fortune buying and selling stock over the last seven years. One of the few things my old man taught me before he passed away—investment.

I glanced up as I heard the bell ring and the doors swung open as the first of the kids made their way outside. Just as I opened my door and stepped out, Silas’s teacher weaved her way through the growing crowd, all of her students following in a straight line behind her, like little ducklings.

“Dad!” Silas yelled, breaking from the line and sprinting towards me. Of course, he had to be the one.

I threw my hand up to acknowledge his teacher and took his satchel off his shoulder. I opened the rear door before I picked him up, placing him in his seat and buckling him in.

“Are we going to the park now, dad?” he asked, squeezing his hands together like he was praying.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going to the park now.” I said, knuckling his head. He tried to bat my hand away but was overcome with giggles when it turned into a playful finger fight.

We made our way to the park, and Silas could barely contain himself as we pulled into the playground parking-lot. Just as I put the SUV in park, my iPhone buzzed in my pocket. I looked down at my watch and scoffed when I saw who was calling.

Her.

“Come on dad, let me out!” Silas demanded, attempting to unbuckle himself.

It had been almost nine months since the last time she called. Not a check in; not a ‘how’s my son doing’, nothing. She was calling for one thing and one thing only—money.

I opened the door and unbuckled the childproof lock on his seat. He took my hand and jumped out, bouncing on his feet as he landed. The park wasn’t crowded and there were only five or six other children on the playground.

“Okay, have fun big guy. Just be careful!” I said as we passed through the gate of the large wrought iron fence that surrounded the park.

He took off like Flash, heading straight for the staircase of the tall, twisted slide. He sprinted up the stairs, much like he did those at the manor, and stopped to find me when he made it to the top.

“Watch me, dad!” he yelled, waving his hand.

I took off my shades and used my fist to block the glare. “I’m watching! Go for it!”

He disappeared and seconds later; I heard the echoes of his laughter as he exited the end of the tunnel. “I did it, dad!”

“You sure did, big guy. Are you going to go again?”

He didn’t respond as he spun around, sprinting for the stairs once again. I shook my head and turned to take a seat on the bench just as my phone buzzed once again. I pulled my phone from my pocket without checking the ID this time.

“What, Victoria?”

“Well, hello to you too, Stellan. I see you’re still as cranky as always. Is that anyway to greet the mother of your son?”

Yeah, she had a lot of nerve; maybe it was the drugs and alcohol coursing through her veins that did all the talking these days.

“You mean the son you abandoned a year ago? The one you haven’t checked on in nine months. That son, Victoria?” I quipped, my patience already running thin at just the sound of her voice.

“I didn’t abandon him, Stellan! You kicked me out, remember? What was I supposed to do, huh?” she retorted.

“You were supposed to get clean! And you still haven’t asked how your son is doing, which tells me all I need to know. What-do-you-want-Victoria?” I asked again, emphasizing each word.

“I want to get clean, Stellan, for good this time. I want to come home, and I want to be a family again.” She whined. “I need money to get clean, Stellan. I want to go to rehab again.”

“Dad, look!” The sudden interruption of Silas’s voice yanked me from the conversation. I turned just in time to see him jump from the top of the slide platform. It was too high, much too high for him to land the jump without hurting himself.

“SILAS!”

The phone call with his mother was long forgotten as I sprinted towards where he lay on the ground, clutching his knee.

I was almost there when, out of nowhere, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen darted in front of me, cutting me off. She was shorter, maybe 5'6, with a petite frame. She wore a pale green, over-sized loose sweater, and her long auburn hair cascaded down her back, nearly meeting the hem of her little khaki shorts.

She dropped to her bare knees and cradled Silas in her slender arms, brushing his sweaty hair back as she assessed his injuries.

Her voice was like a melody, as she talked him through his initial shock and I just stood there, lost for words. “You’re such a brave boy to jump from that high, I would’ve been too scared to jump from up there!” She cooed. “It looks like you’re okay. You just scraped your knee. Is your momma here, baby?”