Have It All

Chapter 1

Follow your dreams, they said. Listen to your heart, they said.

This advice was how I ended up with a bachelor's degree in journalism. Based on the advice I was given, it was a smart move. But in a serious sense, it wasn't a practical move. However, there isn't much we want that is.

With the four-year college degree that I severely indebted myself getting, I had anticipated that at 24 years old, I would be doing what I loved and getting paid to do it. I thought my diploma would be my one way ticket to the life that I had always dreamt of living. I had always invisioned myself earning a comfortable living as a journalist. I wanted to write riveting and exciting articles for New York Glass Media. I wanted the perfect 9-5 office job and the life that came with it. I would picture myself sunbathing on the balcony of my gorgeous home with a tall glass of white moscato in one hand while the wind tossed my blonde hair about. 

You know, like how it always does in movies. But it didn't happen that way.

Instead, I found myself working as a nanny for the Hansens. It was the highest paying and most flexible job that I had found with my degree which they obviously didn't require. It was enough to keep the electric on and the rent paid for my small studio apartment. 

I didn't hate the job. By no means did I hate it. It just wasn't what I had ever planned on doing especially not long term. Yet, here I was, 2 years in with no end in sight.

Mr. and Mrs. Hansen were both real estate agents that dealt in selling only the most expensive and highly sought after homes in New York. They were very busy people with schedules that demanded a lot from them. I could never repay them for the kindness and generosity they had consistently shown me.  Mrs. Hansen, especially as she was very encouraging of my dream to be a writer. 

"What's for dinner, Miss Claire?" I heard little Oakley ask as she stood beside me in the kitchen in front of the counter. She was barely taller than the prisitine, solid white cabinets themselves.

Her bright, sky blue eyes shone up at me as she watched me curiously. Her light brown hair was already falling out from the loose braid I had pulled it back into only hours before. Even at 4 years old, she was very particular about wanting her fine hair pulled up. "Your mommy wanted spaghetti made so that's what I'm making," I explained to her with a smile. 

"I like spaghetti," she grinned, a dimple peeping out on each cheek. Eagerly, she hopped away, skipping toward the living room where her little sister was playing with some wooden blocks. "Kinsley! Miss Claire's making spaghetti!"

From where I had been focusing my attention on the onion I was dicing up on the counter, I looked up in time to see little Kinsley lift her blonde head up. Her mouth shaped into a small 'o' as her eyes widened at her big sister. "Ghetti," she breathed out softly and I laughed. Her vocabulary was limited but for a 2 year old, she impressed me with how much she could say.

Just as Kinsley's small tower of blocks toppled over, I could hear the front door open. I turned over my shoulder and scanned the digital clock on the glass top stove. 4:48 pm. They're running early.

"Claire, dear, that smells amazing." Mrs. Hansen's friendly voice carried through air moments before her rounded figure came into my view. Her black curls were still just as freshly styled as they were when she left the house nearly eleven hours before. Her red lips were curled into a welcoming, warm grin. She made her way to the large kitchen table that stood in the dining room a few feet away from the kitchen. She grabbed the mail from the tabletop that I had retrieved earlier in the day. "I am starving! Eating for two means I never feel full," she chuckled, her bubbly laughter proved to be contagious as a grin reached my face.