TWO YEARS LATER ON HILTON Head Island, the roasting summer depleted its dry, hot days as the cool fall air breezed into the Low Country, offering sweet, sultry days and warm autumn nights. One early Thursday morning, the bright sun rose above the ancient oaks in the back yard of Kayla’s deceased grandfather’s estate and glistened down over the one story, grey wooden house that he’d willed to her.
Peck. Peck. Peckpeckpeck. A bird’s beak pecking against the glass window ticked in Kayla’s ears as she lay on her side in her grandfather’s old comfy bed, trying to sleep. Peck. Peckpeckpeck. Why does this stupid bird insist on waking me up every morning? Kayla thought, keeping her eyes strained together. Knowing she had a long, exhausting day ahead of her, she clenched the comforter tighter to her chin. Peckpeckpeck.
Wishing the stupid bird would fly away, Kayla huffed. Her eyes fluttered open. Irritated at the crazy pecking bird, she rolled to her back and peered up at the ceiling.
Sun slipped through the tiny slits in the blinds and soaked into the skin of her face. Squinting against the bright rays, she stretched her legs down the soft linen on the mattress. Yawning, she stretched her arms above her head, then climbed out of bed.
Wearing a pink cotton tank and black pajama shorts, she treaded over to the window to look at that darn bird still hitting its beak against the window. Peckpeckpeck. Kayla pulled the string on the blinds, lifting them. Sure enough, the red-bellied woodpecker had returned at its usual time again this morning. Kayla smiled at the beautiful animal. Bright red fur buzzed at the top of the white bird’s head, and white lines squiggled on its pitch black wings. Its eyes looked like dark, inked circles.
You’re a cute, furry thing. “Why don’t you try coming an hour later tomorrow?” she spoke to the bird, as if it may have a clue as to what she was saying.
Reflecting on the night her grandfather, Leroy Van Buren, had called her right before he’d had that terrible car crash, Kayla’s heart crunched. She wrapped her fingers around the string of the blind and continued gazing at the tall trees in the distance.
Oh, Grandpa. I miss you. Why’d you have to die? First my mother, then grandma, and now you. You’re all gone.
Except for her baby sister, Alana, and her lovely son, CJ, Kayla had no one. No family. Just a few close friends.
For a brief moment, her mind traveled back to the rainy day she’d buried her grandfather. His funeral had been small and short, just the way he would have wanted it. After the funeral, she’d been so hurt until she’d fallen to her knees, and some kind stranger had jumped out of his limo to come assist her in her time of bereavement. The man had lifted her from the ground, carried her to the car, then slid her into the back seat. Without uttering a single word, the strong-looking warrior had stalked off, leaving her questioning his identity. Quite often, she thought of him. Who was he? Where are you now? I hope you’re doing okay.
Kayla’s eyes roamed over the slender, tall grass and bright yellow daisies swaying in the air. Gosh, the grass needed cutting rather urgently. And my, the decay ate away at the rotten wooden fence in the backyard. While she appreciated her grandfather willing her his house, keeping it up, with very little income coming in, burdened her. Unable to find a steady job, Kayla’s shoulders knotted with frustration. The money Carson gives me is just not enough. The money Grandpa left me is about to run out. I need a job bad. I have the worst luck in the world.
Times had been hard for Kayla ever since her ex-husband, Carson, had walked out on her. Had left her for another woman. Carson had always been the one to take care of all their finances, and now he barely gave her enough money to take care of his own son. As soon as I get a job, I’m taking Carson’s behind to court and putting him on child support. I hate to do that, but he leaves me no choice. Two hundred dollars a month is nothing considering he makes well over one hundred thousand dollars a year.
Although she had a Bachelor’s degree in Education, Carson had forbidden Kayla to work during their short marriage. He’d insisted she stay home and do the domestic housework, like cleaning, cooking, and taking care of their son. Now as a single mother, she struggled to keep a job that fit with CJ’s schedule. Daycare alone cost more than what any job in this small town was willing to pay her.
Expelling a long sigh, Kayla closed her eyes. I can do this. I can take care of me and my son. God, please help me find a good job.
Thinking back over her life, she opened her eyes and stared at her back yard. My goodness, there was just so much to do to her house. The rotten wooden fence needed replacing. The garage door opener needed fixing. The house needed a thick coat of fresh grey paint. And well, she was too broke to hire a handyman, so she guessed she’d just do it all herself. I can learn anything I want to. I’m not going to let my divorce keep me down anymore. It’s time for me to get out there and make something of myself. I have a son to raise, and I’m going to do a darn good job raising him.
“Mommy! Mommy!” CJ ran into Kayla’s room. “Is the birdee here?”
“Yes, CJ.”
“Can I pat him, pleaasssee?”
The woodpecker spread its black wings, then flew across the yard and landed on the roof of the birdhouse. Smiling, Kayla rubbed the top of CJ’s head. She crouched down in front of him and stared into his big, round eyes.
“I don’t think he’ll let you touch him. He’ll probably fly away if you try.” CJ loved this bird and had become enthralled with birdwatching, a habit her grandfather had had up until his death. “How about Mommy make you some yummy pancakes this morning?”
“Yayyy!” Clapping his hands, CJ jumped up and down.
After using the bathroom, brushing her teeth, then making sure that CJ brushed his teeth and freshened up as well, Kayla headed for the kitchen. As she walked barefoot across the cold marble tile of the kitchen floor, she thought of how she’d like to replace the green and yellow pinstriped window treatment above the sink, and the dingy carpet in the living room as well. That’d be so costly, though, she thought, pulling a box of pancake batter from the cabinet. I’ve filled out so many job applications. Somebody, please call me for a job.
After Kayla got the pancakes, bacon, and eggs cooked, she fixed CJ’s plate, then sat him in the chair at the kitchen table. Hovering over her son, she sliced his pancakes into tiny bite size pieces, then drizzled them with sweet maple syrup. Using her hand, Kayla ruffled the hair on his head.
“Dig in, buddy. I’ll be right back.”
CJ stabbed the fork into the pancake, then jabbed it into his mouth. “Where you going, Mommy?” he asked, chewing.
Kayla rubbed circles on his back. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth. That can be dangerous.”
CJ shrugged. “Why come?”
That was her precocious CJ…always answer a question with a question. “Because if you talk with food in your mouth, you can choke. And then you won’t be able to breathe.” CJ’s eyes spread as if a light bulb went off inside his head. Chewing with his mouth sealed tight, he nodded. She reiterated, “I’m going outside to get the paper. I’ll be right back.”
The raggedy screen door squeaked when Kayla pushed it open and stepped out onto the porch. As she descended the steps, the wooden planks creaked beneath her bare feet. Darn, even the porch needed new boards. Walking the length of the long driveway, the humid morning air felt clammy against her skin. Spotting her neighbor Betsie Mae Dowling sitting in a rocking chair on her porch, Kayla waved with a smile.
Fanning herself with her hand, Betsie Mae stood, then trekked over to the iron fence that separated their front yards from one another. “How you doing this morning, Kayla? Need any help with anything?” The gray-haired lady curled her fingers around the fence.
Kayla shook her head. Yes. I need help finding a job. My car needs new tires. Grandpa’s truck needs an air conditioner. Determined to be independent, Kayla didn’t dare tell her neighbor about her many financial problems.
“No, thanks, Betsie Mae. I’m g
ood.”
Betsie Mae dragged her back hand over her wrinkled forehead. “Well, my Paul told me to tell you to let him know if you need anything. Same goes for me. Okay?”
Grandpa had the best neighbors, and now I do. “Tell Paul I said thanks.” Kayla stooped to retrieve the paper, then headed back into the house.
Anxious to get her caffeinated fix, she placed a pot of water on the stove and turned it to high. Sitting beside CJ, she turned the newspaper to the classified section in search of a job. Shucks. Everything required experience, she thought, her eyes skimming over the paper. Forbidding her to work, Carson had handicapped her, had caused her to not have any darn work experience. Other than knowing how to take care of a child, she didn’t know how to do anything.
Growing frustrated, she folded the paper, laying it aside. Watching CJ eat, she clasped her fingers as terrible regrets assailed her.
I need to study for the teacher certification exam and try to become a teacher, like I’ve always wanted. Like I always dreamed of. Getting a degree is useless if you’re not going to use it. I was so stupid for letting Carson convince me to sit on my behind and do nothing with my life. Walking around barefoot and pregnant, taking care of him. Letting him have sex with me even when I didn’t feel like it. Keeping me locked up in the house while he went out and partied. All for what? To end up divorced. Lonely. Broke.
Reflecting with some bitterness, Kayla put her elbows up on the table and fisted her chin. The cordless telephone on the counter beside where she sat rang. She hefted it from the receiver, dropping it on her ear. Lord, help me.
“Hello.”
“Yes. May I please speak with Kayla Crawford?”
Kayla straightened her back against the chair. “This is Kayla.”
“Hi, Kayla. This is Sandy Burgess calling from the Nanny Staffing Agency. How are you this morning?”
Kayla’s heart pounded like drums in her chest. Please be calling me about a job. “I’m great. And you?”
“Just fine. Thanks for asking. I’m calling because a nanny position just became open this morning. One of our wealthy clients had to fire his nanny for poor conduct yesterday, and he needs to replace her as soon as possible. The gentleman’s name is Mr. Spaulding. He’s the CEO of Spaulding Equestrian Center. Mr. Spaulding has very high expectations. If he finds the right person, he wants her to start immediately.”
Kayla’s mind whirled with excitement. Feeling as if God had read her mind, she placed a hand over her heart. “I can start right away. Today if he needs me to.” Excited about the possibility of landing a job, she’d rushed the words out of her mouth.
“Good. Can you interview with him today? Let’s say, mmm, mmm, around eleven this morning?”
Blissful, Kayla smiled. Her eyes traveled to the time on the microwave. It was nine o’clock. “Yes. Eleven is fine.”
“I’ll let Mr. Spaulding know that you’ll be there at eleven, then. You’re his first appointment. Whatever you do, please don’t be late. He’s very particular about being punctual. If you’re late, you can forget about him hiring you,” Sandy warned.
Kayla’s lips hitched. “I promise, I’ll be on time,” she said, scooting back her chair. “Thanks for thinking of me, Sandy.”
“I’ve already told Mr. Spaulding that I feel you’re the best person for the job. He and I are close friends. He takes my referrals into great consideration.”
This lady is too nice. “Oh, thanks, Sandy! Thank you sooo much.”
“You’re quite welcome. Good luck, Kayla. And whatever you do, please be on time.” Sandy ended the call.
Happiness twirled in Kayla’s belly. She picked up her house phone and dialed Betsie next door.
“Hello,” Betsie answered in that froggy, throaty voice of hers.
“Hi, Betsie. It’s me, Kayla.”
“I know this is you, Kayla. Don’t nobody call over here for Paul or me but you. Everything okay, Ms. Lady?”
“Yes. I just received a phone call for a job interview, and I need somebody to watch CJ this morning for a couple of hours. Will you watch him for me? As soon as the interview is over, I promise to come get him right away.”
“No problems, chile. Just bring that sweet little boy of yours right on over after you get ready. You hear? And don’t rush. Take your time. Paul and I could use some company to spice things up around here.”
Kayla felt her lips curve into a smile. “Thank you so much, Betsie Mae.”
“Chile, don’t even mention it. Do good on your interview. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She ended the call.
Kayla grabbed CJ’s hand, then hastened to his bedroom. Hands floundering over the clothes inside CJ’s drawer while on her knees, CJ stood at the foot of his bed watching her.
“Mommy has an interview today,” she stated, hefting a blue shirt with a white fluffy dog on the front of it from his drawer.
Pulling him to her, she started dressing him. She pulled a pair of jeans up over CJ’s hips, then buttoned them. Lifting his arms in the air, she rolled the animal shirt down over his head.
Fully dressed, CJ’s bottom lip folded under. “I don’t like this shirt, Mommy,” he whined. “I want to wear the Spiderman shirt.” Pouting, he folded his arms over his little chest.
You always wear that darn Spiderman shirt, CJ. “You can wear the Spiderman shirt tomorrow? Okay?” Wanting to make him feel better about the shirt he had on, Kayla caressed his arm.
Disappointed, CJ stumped his foot and frowned. “No, Mommy! No! I want to wear Spiderman today!”
The corner of Kayla’s mouth twisted with agitation. “Don’t get feisty, CJ. You’re wearing this shirt, and that’s it.” She picked CJ up, gently sat him on his bed, then turned the television to the cartoon show Bubble Guppies. “Stay in here and watch TV, okay? Mommy’s going to take a shower.”
CJ nodded. “Okay. Bubble Guppies!” He clapped his hands.
Kayla rushed into her bedroom, stripped off her clothing, and hopped in the shower. Letting the warm water pelt her skin, she lathered her washcloth with soap. She had no clue who this wealthy Mr. Spaulding was, but she sure hoped he’d find it in his heart to give her the nanny position.
As she rubbed the soapy washcloth in circles under her armpit, she squeezed her eyes together and prayed.
Please, God. Please, let me get this job. I need it. Bad. You know my ex-husband barely gives me enough money to take care of CJ. It’d be really nice if I could make my own money so I don’t have to financially depend on Carson. Lord, thank You for everything You do for CJ and me. Amen.
Kayla’s eyes sprang open. Hopefulness warmed her heart. With her entire body covered in sudsy bubbles, she turned her back toward the shower head and let the water rinse her off. The water felt soothing against the hard knots in her shoulders caused by her cheap, selfish ex.
“I have to get this job. God, I’m so nervous.”
Kayla stepped from the shower onto the cool tile, grabbed the towel from the rack, and toweled herself off. She spied the time on the clock. Good Lord! She’d been in the shower thinking about Carson, and time had flown by just that quickly.
Standing nude in front of the mirror, she removed her shower cap and began brushing the tangles out of her straight hair. After she applied her makeup, she threw on a plain grey dress that stopped right above her knees.
I look awfully plain. Boring. I wish I had a navy blue suit or something fancier to wear. What the heck do nannies wear on interviews anyway? Shoot, if I don’t hurry up and get out of here, I’m going to be late.
Kayla grabbed her black bag off her bed, snatched her keys off the dresser, and rushed out of her room. Scurrying down the hallway, her hip accidentally bumped into the desk pressed against the wall. A picture of her grandparents went flying to the floor. When she bent down to pick it up, the back slid off, exposing a picture of her grandfather and some man standing on a boat dock, fishing.
Placing the bro
ken frame back on the table, Kayla flipped over the photo of the man to find a name in her grandfather’s signature scribbled on the back—Russell. Who’s Russell? He never spoke about a Russell to me. Mmmph. Must be a new friend.
In a rush, she burst inside CJ’s sports-themed, decorative room to find him not there. Standing in the doorway, her heart dropped. Where did he go?
“CJ!”
Not in the mood to play hide and seek, Kayla searched behind the shower curtain inside his bathroom for CJ, but he wasn’t there either. Panicked, she searched all the closets inside the house, the bottom bathroom cabinets, and the pantry. Both the living room and the family room.
“Oh God, CJ! Where are you?!”
Fear coursed through Kayla’s veins as she flung open the kitchen’s back door, leading to the fenced-in backyard. Worried, she stepped onto the back porch and spotted CJ sitting inside the manmade tree house her grandfather had crafted especially for him.
Holding a pair of binoculars up to his eyes, CJ called himself birdwatching. Damn him! He’d changed shirts and put on that darn Spiderman T-shirt anyway. He’s going to have me late for my interview.
Apparently spotting her through the binoculars, CJ waved. “Hey, Mommy.”
Kayla’s face scrunched as her mood veered to sharp disapproval. “CJ! You’re so darn hardheaded at times.”
Exasperated, she scampered down the steps of the back porch and ran toward the birdhouse out back. Jogging through the slender, tall grass in her low heels, she tripped and fell flat on her face in a pile of grainy dirt.
CJ squealed. “Mommy! You OK?”
I could kill this kid sometimes!
Livid, Kayla pressed her flat hands into the soil, lifted her face from the ground, and staggered to her feet. Glancing up at CJ, she fisted her hips. It was a good thing she didn’t believe in spanking because she’d probably beat that boy’s rear until it turned piping red hot for this. She marched closer to the tree house. She frowned so hard until her face hurt.
Glaring up at CJ as he sat inside the birdhouse, cradling the binoculars in his tiny hands, she ground her back molars. “Get your behind down here right now, CJ!” she demanded, pointing an index finger toward the ground.
Kayla glowered down at the dirt stains embedded on her cotton dress and cried inwardly. I look a hot mess. I’m never going to make my interview in time. Being a single mother is so hard sometimes.
CJ’s bottom lip curled under. He clambered down the ladder and slowly walked up to her. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
With a hand on her hip, Kayla pointed a finger in his cute, sorrowful face and spat, “You should be sorry, CJ.” With no time to waste, she jerked him off his feet, propped him on her hip, and ran next door to Betsie Mae’s house to drop him off.
In a panicked rush, she hopped in her grandfather’s red pickup truck, jammed the key in the ignition, and backed up out of the driveway. Running late, she threw the gear in drive. The tires on the old truck screeched when she flooded the gas.
Long moments later, Kayla drove the beat up truck down the long, straight road toward the Spaulding Estate. Clenching the steering wheel, humid fall air blew through the opened windows into the truck, whipping her long hair across her perspiring, dingy face. Instead of racing to an interview, she wished she was at home indulging in a long, hot bubble bath and washing the grimy-feeling dirt from her arms and knees.
God, it’s so freaking hot. I’ve got to get the air conditioner fixed in this truck and get some new tires on my car. Oh Carson, how could you skip your child support payment again? I need that money. I’m struggling. Bad. All you care about is yourself.
Determined to remain strong, Kayla gassed the truck at rapid speed down the narrow, clean road. Grey Spanish moss dangled from the limbs of burly oaks on either side of the road. Many acreages of emerald bare land lined both sides, too. Mr. Spaulding must own this entire area out here.
The scenery out in this rich part of town was breathtaking and rather secluded, she thought, thinking her chances of actually landing the nanny job were highly unlikely with the way she looked. For at least two miles down the road, there wasn’t a single home in sight, and then suddenly a large equestrian appeared to her right. Is there where I’m supposed to be?
The engine on the truck gurgled rough, then shimmied, causing Kayla to wonder if it’d break down any minute now. She slowed the shaking truck to read the sign posted outside the black wrought iron gate encircling the spacious property. Spaulding Equestrian Center. Trying to read the brown numbers on the brick mailbox, she squinted. Do I have the right address?
A blond-haired gentleman riding a horse on the other side of the gate spotted her looking at the estate. Fisting the reins, he steered the black horse in her direction.
“May I help you?” he asked, bringing the animal to a stop beside the truck.
Kayla gazed at the Caucasian man’s face. What striking blue eyes he has. “Yes, I’m looking for Mr. Spaulding’s Estate. Is this it?”
Mr. Blue Eyes shook his head. “No, ma’am. This is Mr. Spaulding’s Equestrian, his place of business. His home is three miles further down the road.” He nodded.
“Thanks.”
Wondering if she should’ve just cancelled her interview, Kayla pressed hard on the gas and began driving further down the long road. Another two and three quarters miles later, she heard a loud pop. What in the world? Pop. Pop. The steering wheel vibrated in her clenching grip as the vehicle shook, rocked, and shimmied. Pressing hard on the brakes, she brought the vehicle to a harsh stop at the side of the road.
Smelling burnt rubber, Kayla clambered out of the truck and noticed she had a flat tire. Feeling doomed, she threw her arms in the air.
“I can’t believe this!” She kicked the side of the truck. “A freaking flat tire!”
Fuming, she laid her head on the hot hood of the car. I’ve got to keep going. I’ve got to earn a living for myself.
Kayla’s misery was like a steel weight as she lifted her head from the hood of the truck. Straightening her stance, she faced forward to find Mr. Spaulding’s estate nestled in the cul-de-sac straight ahead. Woooowww.
The brown brick mansion sat centered on several acreages of thick emerald grass. Round ivory columns encircled the entire porch from front to back. Steep stairs led up to the front porch, decorated with red, wooden rocking chairs. A huge marsh edging along a lake, dominated by willowy brown grasses and deep rooted rushes, bristled behind the mansion. To the right of the home sat a brown barn and a stack of yellowish hay. If Kayla had to guesstimate, the big house had to be at least fifteen thousand square feet. Maybe twenty.
This job probably pays a lot. I’ve got to get this job. I just have to.
Kayla’s heartbeat escalated. Suddenly, her courage and determination were like a rock inside her. She took off running.