Baby Lessons

other.
“Did she what?” Brody took a swig of his juice. “Quit?”
“Apparently not,” Wade said, spreading open the paper’s lifestyle section. “She’s got a new column in here—‘Five easy applesauce recipes for your infant or toddler.’”
Another listicle, like something that might be posted to Buzzfeed online. But hey, at least it was somewhat useful. And at least he wouldn’t have a reporter’s firing weighing on his conscience.
Thank God. He knew he needed to take it down a notch. He didn’t use to be like this. He’d actually been a fun-loving guy at one point in time. A nice guy. A decent guy. Too decent, according to his ex. Maybe she’d find whatever she was looking for in San Francisco—a big life in the big city with a not-so-decent man and zero children.
Jack hoped so. He wanted her to be happy, because somewhere deep down he was still kind and decent. The past year had been a struggle, but he was coming out of the woods. Mostly.
“Do the twins like applesauce?” Wade said, folding the page with the parenting column into a neat square.
Jack raked a hand through his hair. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve only recently begun letting them try something other than formula. They’re pretty crazy about mashed bananas.”
“Well, here. Maybe your mom could give one of the recipes a try.” Wade offered the square of newsprint to Jack.
He was almost afraid to touch it, lest it burst into flames and give him away as the letter-writing nutjob. At least there was a fire extinguisher nearby.
“Thanks.” Jack looked down at the words on the page and ran the pad of his thumb over the columnist’s name, Queen Bee, clearly a nom de plume.
She could be anyone. She could have a Pulitzer for all he knew, but whoever she was, Jack was fairly certain she knew next to nothing about raising a child.
And that was absolutely none of his business. He didn’t need to rely on his small-town newspaper for parenting advice. There was a pile of parenting books from the library stacked on his nightstand for that very purpose. He just hadn’t come up with a spare minute to crack one of them open.
He wasn’t sure why he’d made the irrational choice to channel all his frustration into complaining about Queen Bee’s silly articles, but it needed to stop.
Probably.
No, definitely. It definitely needed to stop.
“Actually, I think I’ll whip up some applesauce myself. My mom’s doing enough.” He tucked the article into the back pocket of his regulation Normex pants for safekeeping.
No way would he ask his mother to make his daughters homemade applesauce. She already insisted on taking care of the twins while he was on duty. The girls even had matching cribs in the room formerly known as his dad’s man cave in the red brick house where Jack and his sister had grown up. He wasn’t sure what he would have done without his family this past year, especially in the days right after Natalie had decided that motherhood “wasn’t for her.”
“Hey.” Cap looked up from the sports page. “I know exactly what you need, Jack.”
Please don’t say a woman.
Jack sighed. Wasn’t there a fire somewhere that needed putting out? Nothing major, just a small flame to get everyone’s attention off him and onto something else. Preferably something that didn’t involve Queen Bee and his letters to the editor.
“You need a night nanny.” Cap shot him a triumphant grin.
“A what?” Jack said.
Cap shrugged. “A night nanny—someone to come in and take care of the girls at night while you sleep.”
“Is that a thing?” Jack glanced around the table. Was he the only one who’d never heard of such a profession?
Brody nodded. “Oh, yeah. My brother and his wife got one of those when Susan went back to work. They said it was a lifesaver. She came over around ten at night and stayed until six in the morning.”
Wade frowned. “I’m not sure I could sleep at night knowing there was a stranger lurking around my house.”
Jack snorted. So not a problem. The entire population of Lovestruck could throw a party in his living room and he’d probably snooze through the entire thing.
“I’m telling you, a night nanny is the perfect solution. I can’t believe I’m just now thinking of it.” Cap sipped from his coffee cup, then peered into it when he realized it was empty.
Jack grabbed the pot from the coffeemaker on the kitchen counter and filled it for him. “Better late than never. I’ll look into it.”
Of course if Queen Bee had written a single column offering advice for new parents returning to work, he might have already gotten a night nanny. But no. Instead, his head was filled with useless information like the four cutest toddler shoes for fall and the top bathing suits for a summer in the baby pool.
At least he had a blueprint for applesauce in his back pocket. That was something.
Cap nodded. “Just wait. A night nanny will change your life.”
Jack poured himself a steaming cup of Folgers breakfast blend—black, like his mood.
Change my life?
Maybe a night nanny wasn’t such a bad idea.

Chapter Three
Dear Editor,
While I’m pleased to see Queen Bee, your parenting “expert,” writing about practical matters, the first applesauce recipe in Tuesday’s column was bitter to the point of being inedible. I’ve yet to attempt the other four recipes, but based on past experience with this columnist’s work, I’m not holding my breath.
Sincerely,
Fired Up in Lovestruck
Madison maneuvered her grocery cart from the front entrance of Lovestruck’s Village Market toward the produce section, nearly plowing down a tower of maple syrup jugs in the process. She needed to slow down. She knew this, but she was just so, so...enraged...that she couldn’t help banging into a few things along the way.
Her pen pal had written yet another letter to the editor. Short and sweet this time and not quite as critical as the previous letters, but still. Couldn’t Fired Up in Lovestruck tell she was trying?
Okay, so she hadn’t