The babysitter

A night to remember

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Lucy asked for the third time, watching Angela load Emma's overnight bag into her car. "Emma can be particular about her bedtime routine, and Evan might cry for his stuffed elephant if he can't find it."

"Lucy," Angela said, giving her friend an exasperated look. "I have two kids of my own. I think I can handle yours for one night."

"But Emmy's still adjusting to sharing her room, and Jack might get impatient with Emma's questions—"

"Lucy!" Angela interrupted, laughing. "Stop. The kids are going to be fine. Emmy's been excited about having Emma over all week, and Jack's already promised to teach Evan how to build the ultimate block tower. You need this night out."

Tim appeared beside them, having finished transferring the car seats. "She's right," he said, wrapping an arm around Lucy's shoulders. "And we can always call if there's an emergency."

"There won't be an emergency," Angela said firmly. "Unless you count the sugar crash they'll all have after I let them have ice cream for dessert."

"Angela!" Lucy protested.

"Relax, mama bear," Angela said with a grin. "I'm kidding. Mostly."

Emma bounded out of the house, dragging her backpack behind her. "Mommy, can I bring my butterfly book to show Jack?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Lucy said, kneeling down to Emma's level. "Remember to be good for Miss Angela, okay? And help look after Evan."

"I will!" Emma said, throwing her arms around Lucy's neck. "Have fun on your date!"

Evan toddled over, clutching his stuffed elephant. "Mama go?"

"Just for tonight, buddy," Lucy said, scooping him up. "You get to have a sleepover with Emmy and Jack. Won't that be fun?"

Evan nodded enthusiastically, then wiggled to get down when he spotted Jack waving from Angela's car window.

"Alright, you two," Angela said, shooing Tim and Lucy toward their own car. "Get out of here. Dinner reservations wait for no one."

"Call if you need anything," Lucy called as Angela herded the kids toward her car.

"The only thing I need is for you to turn off your phone and actually enjoy yourselves," Angela called back. "Now go!"

Twenty minutes later, Lucy found herself seated across from Tim at a cozy Italian restaurant she'd never been to before. The lighting was warm and intimate, and she could smell garlic and herbs wafting from the kitchen.

"How did you find this place?" she asked, looking around at the exposed brick walls and flickering candles.

"I may have done some research," Tim said, looking pleased with himself. "The reviews said it was romantic without being pretentious, and that they make their pasta fresh daily."

"You did research," Lucy repeated, smiling. "Tim Bradford researched romantic restaurants."

"I'm a thorough man," Tim said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "And I wanted this to be perfect."

"It already is," Lucy said, squeezing his fingers. "I can't remember the last time we sat at a table without having to cut someone's food or referee a sibling argument."

"Or wipe up spilled milk," Tim added.

"Or explain why vegetables aren't actually trying to poison you," Lucy continued.

"I've missed this," Tim said, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. "Just talking to you. Being with you without having to split our attention five different ways."