Don't Forget About the Roses

Getting Back to Life

The Next Morning

I woke up feeling amazingly happy, happier than I'd felt in a long time. I suppose new found friendship can do that to you, but this seemed to be more than just friendship. We really understood each other, and that's not often something you can say about another person.

But Ian Rosa was the kind of person that could make you feel that way. And he thought I was pretty. And thoughful. And caring. That was more than any one person had ever thought of me, except of course, my mother.

No, he made me feel giddy and carefree--like a middle school girl crush--and honestly it felt amazing.

The door creaked, revealing Isobel standing in the doorway. "Oh good, you're up."

Gracie burst into my room. "Izzy and me are making pancakes."

Izzy and I, I heard Isobel mutter as I pulled myself out of bed. Mr. Rose had left on a business trip the day before, so today it was just us.

In the kitchen, it looked like a hurricane had ravaged the cuboards. Bowls and measuring cups were everywhere, all spattered with a gooey pancake mix. The girls themselves were dusted with flour, giving them a bit of a ghostly appearance in this light. And I'm pretty sure I could see some egg yolk on the floor.

"Ok, so what kind of pancakes are we making?"

"Blueberry!" Gracie yelled.

"Banana chocolate chip," Izzy added.

"It's settled then," I smiled. "We're making both."

. . .

After breakfast, I took the girls to the park. It was nice to get back to our usual routine. Well, there were a few changes, but nothing major. I'd taken to wearing scarfs on my head and a protective mask when I was around a lot of people, both of which helped me feel more comfortable, especially in public.

Gracie really liked my scarfs and asked me early if she could wear one to the park. I figured why not, though I hoped neither of them would want to go bald so we could match. When they sensed I was uncomfortable, the girls would do almost anything to cheer me up.

"Your daughters are adoarble," a mom next to me practically cooed.

"Oh, thank you, but they're not mine." I admit, the chemo and scarf made me look older, but old enough to have an eight year old, I thought, cringing inwardly--I hope not. "I'm their nanny."

The woman looked embarrassed, her mouth in a surprised "Oh". I smiled. "Don't worry, that happens a lot actually. So which one's your?"

"The little boy in the red shirt. Liam don't touch that!"

"He's adorable."

She smiled almost shyly. "Thanks."

I put on my hand. "Lauren."

"Amy." She shook it. "So do you nanny other children, or..?"

"Just the two, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind company. It's just me and them most of the time. Do you need me to watch Liam?"

"My husband has to go into the hospital and my usual babysitter is in school now."

"Then it's settled. I'll watch Liam."