“Have you eaten yet?” I asked.
“I was just going to grab something at home,” she said.
“You’re welcome to eat with us,” I said, not feeling right about her heating my dinner only to have to go home and cook something else for herself. “There’s plenty.”
She looked at the food, hesitated, then shook her head. “That’s okay. You and Charlotte deserve some daddy-daughter time. But thank you.”
Before I could reply, Charlotte came barreling into the room and launched herself at me. “Daddy!”
“Hey, bug.” I chuckled, catching her and lifting her onto my hip. And when she instantly snuggled her face into my shoulder, all the arguments in court and pressure of the day instantly fell away.
I kissed the top of her head. “How was your day?”
“So fun,” she said, beaming. “Nora is the best nanny ever.”
“Thank you for everything you did today,” I said, looking over at Nora, a warmth coiling in my chest. “I owe you big time.”
“I was happy to help,” she said. “Charlotte was great. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
“We’re going to the park!” Charlotte exclaimed loudly beside my ear.
“That’s right,” Nora told her, smiling. “And you said you were going to show me your favorite slide.”
“Uh huh.” Charlotte nodded hard enough to make her pigtails bounce.
And just like that, every leftover bit of worry I’d had about leaving my daughter with someone new melted away.
Of course she’d been fine. She adored Nora. Always had.
“Anyway, I’ll let you two enjoy your dinner,” Nora said, reaching for her bag on the counter and slipping it over her shoulder. “Have a good night. I’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
“Drive safe,” I said, walking her to the front door.
“Will do.” She smiled, her brown eyes meeting mine briefly. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
“See you then.” I lifted a hand in return.
When the door clicked shut, I looked at Charlotte, who was already wriggling to get down.
“Ready to eat?”
“Yes!”
After dinner, I washed the dishes while Charlotte stood on her little stool beside me with her apron on, “helping” by pouring water from one plastic cup into another. Most of the water landed in the sink. Some splashed on her. And a decent amount hit the floor. I’d call that a win for a three-year-old.
“Your hair looks pretty today,” I told her as she leaned forward to fill her cups again.
She had pigtails, which was normal for her since that was one of the only styles I’d mastered. But they were fancier today.The hair above each ponytail was sectioned and flipped somehow, like Nora had worked some kind of magic that required actual skill. And amazingly enough, even after a full day of play, the style was still intact, too. No rubber bands slipping out. No flyaways trying to escape.
“Nora did it.” Charlotte beamed, touching her hair with wet fingers.
“She did?” I smiled at how pleased she seemed. “Did you like having her do your hair?”
“Yes!” She nodded emphatically. “It didn’t even hurt.”
I winced. Yeah, so far, getting the tangles out of my rambunctious daughter’s hair was not something I’d been able to accomplish without a few tears shed.
I might need to ask Nora for some tips. Her hair was a pretty similar texture to Charlotte’s, so she’d probably learned a thing or two about detangling curly hair through the years.