“That’s not practical.”
“It’s the only option.”
“Georgia, you can’t effectively lead an excavation with a toddler.”
“Watch me.”
The words come out harder than I intend, and I see several people around the table wince.
Calvin’s expression goes cold. “We’ve already discussed this. The project needs your full attention. We have limited time and specific goals.”
“And I’m committed to meeting them. But I’m also Ella’s mother, and she comes first. If you have a problem with that…” I pause, my heart racing, knowing I’m about to gamble everything. “Then I understand if this is a dealbreaker, and you need to replace me. This is my dream job, Calvin, but my daughter comes first.”
The silence is crushing. He just stares at me, and the only thing I can think of is how I just used his first name, which he hates me to do.
“Perhaps,” Dr. Akkhad says carefully, “we could help. We’re all here, after all. If Georgia needs someone to watch Ella for short periods, we can chip in.”
“I appreciate that,” I cut in, “but I’m not comfortable asking the team to babysit. You all have jobs to do.”
“So do you,” Calvin says flatly.
“And I’ll do it. With Ella nearby. People work with children around them all the time. I’ll set up a play area at the site, keep her under a canopy, bring activities. It’s not ideal, but it’s manageable.”
“Manageable,” Calvin repeats, and there’s something dangerous in his tone. “This is a professional archaeological excavation, not a daycare.”
“I’m aware of that.”
We stare at each other across the table, and I can feel everyone else holding their breath. I’m going to get fired. Right here, right now. He’s going to send me packing with Lois, and I’ll have gambled everything for nothing. But I can’t back down. I won’t. Not about Ella’s safety.
Finally, Calvin speaks. “Fine. You can keep her at the site. But if it impacts the quality or timeline of the work?—”
“It won’t.”
“It better not.” He turns and walks out of the tent without another word.
The moment he’s gone, I sink back into my chair, adrenaline draining away and leaving me shaky.
“Well,” Edmond says after a moment, “that was intense.”
“Georgia,” Khalid says gently, “you know we would help. With Ella. If you need it.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. But…” I look down at my daughter, who’s been surprisingly quiet through all of this, playing with a spoon from the table. “She’s my responsibility. I’ll figure it out.”
“You’re allowed to accept help,” Dr. Akkhad points out.
“I know. I’m just… I’m not good at it.”
That’s an understatement. I’ve been doing everything alone for so long that accepting help feels like admitting failure.
But maybe, in this case, I don’t have a choice.
“Can I ask you something?” I say to the group. “Honestly?”
“Of course,” Edmond responds.
“Do you think I can do this? Work effectively with Ella here?”
They exchange glances.
