Chapter 30: A Familiar Face

"You both are bonding without me," Joi pouted playfully as she sat down on the dining chair.

"Auntie is telling me an interesting story," Isabella replied with a wide smile showing her missing tooth.

"Nice! Well, let's eat our lunch." Joi smiled as she happily dished Isabella's food.

They ate quietly, the meal passing in companionable silence. Afterward, Mrs. Catlin cleaned up while Joi took Isabella to the patio to play. Laughter and small squeals filled the air as they played games under the warm sun.

Later, Joi helped Isabella with her homework, patiently guiding her with her maths and spelling errors. By the time they were done, they sat together watching cartoons, giggling at the antics on the screen until evening fell.

When dinner was ready, Mrs. Catlin called them to the table. Tonight's menu was jollof spaghetti, and Isabella's excitement made everyone chuckle. They enjoyed their meal together, and afterward, Joi decided to bathe Isabella for the night.

She carefully combed through Isabella's soft, blonde curls, ensuring every strand was smooth and tangle-free. Once Isabella was dressed in a beautiful brown gown, they shared dessert at the dining table—a sweet ending to a fun-filled day.

Just as they finished their dessert, a knock came at the door.

"I'll get it," Joi said quickly when Mrs. Catlin moved to rise. "You can handle the dishes; it might be Isabella's mom."

Mrs. Catlin nodded and returned to the kitchen. Joi walked to the door and opened it, only to find a woman standing with her back turned.

"Who are you?" Joi asked firmly but not unkind.

The woman turned around, and Joi's breath caught. The stranger's blonde, coily hair matched Isabella's perfectly. But what startled Joi the most was her striking resemblance to someone she couldn't quite place.

"Are you Joi?" the woman asked cautiously.

"Yes, I am. And you're Isabella's mom, right?" Joi smiled warmly, masking her surprise.

"Yes. Is she in?" Isabella's mom asked, peeking inside.

"Of course. Please, come in." Joi stepped aside to let her in.

"Thank you," the woman murmured as she walked in, glancing around. "This looks… familiar," she muttered softly, almost to herself.

Joi didn't catch her words. Instead, she turned toward the bedroom. "Isabella! Your mom is here!" she called, standing at the door.

"Mom?!" Isabella's excited voice rang out. She dashed out of the bedroom and threw herself into her mother's arms.

Her mom hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek. "How are you, sweetheart? Did you behave?"

"I'm good and I did! Joi even bought me a new dress!" Isabella twirled, showing off her outfit.

Her mother's eyes lingered on the dress, noting its quality. "Thank you," she said, turning to Joi with a grateful smile. "That must have been expensive."

"It's nothing," Joi replied. "She's a sweet kid. I'm happy to help."

Isabella's mother nodded, her gratitude evident. "We should get going; it's late."

Joi followed them to the door. Isabella put on her backpack and turned back to flash her signature toothy grin.

"Goodnight, Joi!" she chirped.

"Goodnight, Isabel," Joi said, ruffling the girl's curls gently. "Be a good girl, okay?"

"I will!" Isabella giggled as Joi hugged her tightly, reluctant to let go.

"Thank you again," Isabella's mom said warmly as they left.

"Take care!" Joi waved and gently closed the door.

Moments later, Mrs. Catlin approached with a paper bag. "They left already? This is her school uniform. I washed and dried them."

"Thanks! I'll catch up with them." Joi quickly left to hand over the bag before returning home.

---

The days blurred into a steady rhythm. Joi and Debbie often picked up the children from school, the car rides lively with chatter. Mayra grew increasingly warm, no longer the difficult, defiant girl she once was. Her transformation, sparked by Joi's firm but kind guidance, left Mr. Shane astounded.

One afternoon, Debbie sat awkwardly in Mr. Shane's living room as he handed her yet another gift.

"Sir, you really don't have to keep gifting me," Debbie said hesitantly. "I didn't do much."

"You did more than you think," Mr. Shane replied, his tone kind but firm. "I've had many nannies, but none could reach Mayra like this."

Debbie shook her head. "With all due respect, sir, it wasn't me." Debbie tried to think if he'll get angry hearing his daughter's encounter with Joi.

"If it wasn't you then who did? I always leave my daughter with you so who made her change?" Shane asked.

Debbie hesitated a little not knowing if she should say it or not. "It was my best friend, Joi."

"Joi?" Shane's brows furrowed.

Debbie nodded, explaining how Joi had dealt with Mayra during their first encounter.

Shane listened carefully. "Then tell her I'll like to see her, I want to thank her personally."

Debbie sighed. "I wish it's that easy sir, but Joi doesn't have time to hang out for now."

Shane frowned a Little. "Have you tried inviting her, Mayra is always talking about her new friend and I thought it was you."

Debbie felt embarrassed. "Yes I called her sir, Mayra also invited her but I understand her reasons."

Shane handed Debbie his phone. "Call her. I'd like to thank her."

Debbie dialed Joi's number and handed the phone to Shane.

The call connected, and Joi's soft, melodic voice greeted him. "Hello? This is Joi. Who's speaking, please?"

Shane froze for a beat, caught off guard by how warm and inviting her voice sounded. For a moment, he pictured the kind of person behind the voice—poised, confident, with a quiet strength that intrigued him.

"This is Shane... Mayra's father," he finally managed, his tone gentler than usual.

"Oh! Hello, Mr. Shane. How can I help you?" Joi's polite but curious response brought a small smile to his face.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did for Mayra," he began, his words measured but genuine. "It's not something anyone has been able to do, not even me. She's... different now. Happier. And I have you to thank for that."

"Oh, it's nothing, really," Joi replied modestly. "I understood how she felt that's why I could help her."

Shane leaned back in his chair, allowing her words to wash over him. There was something about the simplicity of her response—so unassuming yet confident—that made him want to know more about her. His curiosity, coupled with this strange pull he felt, grew stronger with each passing second.

"Even so," Shane said, his voice softening further, "I'd like to thank you properly. Maybe over a meal, if you're free?"

There was a pause on the other end, and Shane's heart skipped in the silence. What if she said no? What if she thought he was being too forward? He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious.

"A meal sounds fine," Joi replied, her tone light. "But I'm busy for now."

Shane let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "That's fine. I'll wait—whenever you're ready."

The sincerity in his own voice surprised him. When was the last time he'd felt this... nervous? Interested? A smile crept across his face before he could stop it.

"How's Mayra doing?" Joi asked, her question catching him off guard.

"She's... thriving. For the first time in years, she listens to her home teacher. She's polite. Whatever you said to her, it worked. So, thank you again, Joi," Shane said, his tone filled with genuine gratitude.

"That's great to hear. But really, there's no need to keep thanking me," Joi replied warmly.

Shane chuckled softly, charmed by how humble she sounded. "You're modest. And call me Shane."

"Alright, Shane. I'll let you know when I'm free for that meal. Have a good day," she said with a smile in her voice.

"You too, Joi," Shane replied, the line disconnecting shortly after. He stared at the phone in his hand for a moment, lost in thought. The warmth of her voice lingered, and for reasons he couldn't explain, he found himself smiling again.

"Wow," he muttered under his breath, feeling the odd tug in his chest. Something about her had gotten under his skin.

Debbie, who had been observing him closely, smirked knowingly. "She has that effect on people," she teased lightly.

Shane shot her a cold look but said nothing, his mind still replaying every word Joi had said.

---

The weekend brought its usual joy. Isabella spent most of it at Joi's house. They baked a cake together, their laughter ringing out in the kitchen. Mrs. Catlin had grown fond of Isabella and enjoyed her presence around the house.

By noon, Isabella fell asleep, exhausted from all the fun. Joi carried her to bed and then settled on the couch to watch Netflix. Mrs. Catlin joined her after a while.

"Has Mr. Adrian mentioned when he'll return?" Mrs. Catlin asked cautiously. "As much as I love having Isabella here, he might not like it."

Joi didn't look away from the screen. "I'll handle it. He doesn't need to tell me anything. He can come whenever he wants."

"But what if he shows up while you're out picking up Isabella?"

"Mrs. Catlin, you're not young anymore. You shouldn't waste your energy worrying about 'what ifs.'" Joi's tone was firm but not harsh.

Mrs. Catlin sighed and decided to let it go. They sat in silence, the action movie on screen capturing both their attention.