“Are you sure? Rob said he could watch her.”
“No, Rob needs to take care of you.”
“Okay. Tell Emmy her nannie is sorry.”
“Nannie? Is that what you’re going by now?”
“I’m trying it out,” she says. “I didn’t like grandma.”
She’s referred to herself as a grandmother in four different ways since Emmy was born, but none of them have stuck yet. “Love you, Mom. Hope you feel better.”
“Love you, too.”
I end the call and then grab Emmy out of her car seat. I’m relieved to see Ryle’s car isn’t in his assigned spot. I wasn’t planning on coming to the building where he and Allysa both have apartments, but my mother and Emmy came down with the same illness this week.
When I picked her up from my mother’s yesterday, Emmy had a slight fever. It peaked around two in the morning, and nothing I did helped. It was gone by the time I had to get ready for work today, though. But then it hit my mother this afternoon with a vengeance, and I had to go pick up Emmy in the middle of the workday. I had a little bit of a panic moment because tonight is my date with Atlas. I thought I was going to have to cancel, but Allysa saved the day.
I didn’t tell her why I needed a sitter. I texted her and asked if she could watch Emmy for a few hours this afternoon and into tonight, and she responded with one word. Gimme.
I warned her that Emmy had a fever last night, but Emmy and Rylee spend so much time together, we stopped worrying about one getting the other sick months ago, since it happens every other week. Emmy probably got the fever from Rylee to begin with.
I knock on Allysa’s door, and when she opens it, she’s immediately grabbing for Emerson. “Come here,” she says. She pulls Emerson to her and squeezes her. “She smells so good. Rylee doesn’t smell like a baby anymore. Makes me sad.” She pushes the door open to invite me in, and when I walk inside holding the diaper bag, Allysa finally registers my outfit. “Hold up,” she says. She points a finger up and down my body. “What’s this? Why am I babysitting?”
I really don’t want to tell her where I’m going, but it’s Allysa. She reads me better than anyone. She can see the hesitation on my face and takes it for exactly what it is. “Is this a date outfit?” She whispers it and then closes the front door. “Is it the Greek god?”
“Atlas. Yes. Please don’t tell your brother.”
Right when I say that, I notice Marshall standing close by in the living room. He immediately covers his ears and says, “I heard nothing. I see nothing. Lalalalalala.” He walks through the foyer and disappears into the kitchen.
Allysa brushes his presence off with a wave. “He’s so good at being neutral; don’t worry about him.” She motions for me to follow her into the living room. Rylee is in a playpen, so Allysa walks Emmy over to her. “Rylee, look who’s here!”
Rylee smiles when she sees Emmy. The girls are starting to show excitement in each other’s presence. I love that they’re not too far apart in age. The six-month gap feels smaller and smaller the older Emmy gets.
“Where is he taking you?”
I smooth my hands down my outfit, and then flick off a piece of lint. “To dinner, but I’ve never been to this place. I hope I’m not overdressed.”
“Is this your first date with him? You seem nervous.”
“It is our first date, and I am nervous. But it’s a different kind of nervous. A good nervous. I know him so well already, so I don’t feel like I’m about to have to spend an evening with a stranger.”
Allysa studies me for a moment with gentle eyes. “You seem excited. I’ve missed this side of you.”
“Yeah. Me too.” I bend to give both Emmy and Rylee kisses. “I won’t be out too late. I have to get back to the shop and close up for Lucy, so he’s picking me up there. I should be back around nine thirty, so try to keep her up until then if you don’t mind.”
“Why are you coming back so early? That’s lame.”
“I didn’t sleep last night. I’m exhausted. But I don’t want to cancel the date, so I’m going to power through.”
“Ugh. Motherhood,” Allysa says, rolling her eyes. “I’ll keep her awake—go have fun. Drink a coffee or a five-hour or something.”
I’ve lost count of the number of coffees I’ve had today. “Love you. Thanks for saving the day,” I say on my way out the door.