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"Oh, sweetie, that's tough," Courtney empathized, cradling Ava in her lap. "Have you talked to Mitch about it?
"Yeah, he's said he'll pitch in when possible, but the guy's got a full plate. He's already footing the bill for Ella and his own place," I admitted, offering her a feeble grin.
We carried on with our conversation, taking turns keeping Ava entertained. Courtney dished out some tantalizing details about her and Brad in between making goofy noises and engaging in patty cake play.
"So, Brad and I have hit the beach a couple of times after work,” she revealed, a wicked smile playing on her lips.
"Ooh, Courtney, that's amazing!" I squealed, clapping my hands in excitement.
"Shhh, it's our little secret, okay? Brad would have my head if he knew I spilled the beans."
So, I was just talking to Courtney, right? And I told her I was worried about how much Ella was around and how she’d been getting in the way of Mitch and me. Like, she was always there, and it was hard to get closer to him with her around all the time. I just wanted us to get past this and be able to get closer without her butting in.
Courtney was all serious and was like, "I feel you. Nannies can be awesome, but it's hard to find the right balance. Just don't let jealousy mess with your head. Ella's more like a sweet grandma than anything else." She thought about it for a sec and then said, "Maybe you could just talk to Ella about how you feel? If you're honest with her, it might help clear things up, and you might figure out how to have her in your lives without her getting in the way of you and Mitch." Then she laughed and said, "I don’t know where all that advice came from, 'cause I've got no clue about babies or nannies!"
I chuckled and then groaned, acknowledging the truth in Courtney's advice. "You're spot on, girl I've got to work on being a better communicator. I can't let jealousy consume me. It's crucial to share my feelings with both Mitch and Ella, so we can find a harmony that suits all of us."
Ava's wails sliced through the air, marking the end of our heart-to-heart. "Ah, nanny mode activated," I declared with a smile, already shifting gears to cater to the little one's needs. "I'll change her and get her bottle warmed up."
"Looks like it's time for our meeting. We'll catch up later," Courtney declared, trailing the others into a hush-hush staff meeting to deliberate on the proposed budget. I'd caught a glimpse of those numbers, and boy, were they ghastly. Yet, in spite of the pressing choices, our corner maintained a spirited vibe. Ariel, Amber, Sicily, and Meagan joined me, and we all gathered, feasting on slices of pizza.
At first, we took pleasure in observing the children laugh and eat, their giggles a melody to our ears. "Just look at them," Meagan mused, "so untroubled and pure. Even the twins seem captivated, watching the festivities from their swings."
Amber joined in, lost in nostalgia, "I wish we could all return to those simpler days."
It was no secret that Rosedale's co-owners battled a severe dip in revenue, forcing them to ponder wage cuts and possible layoffs. As the afternoon progressed, the stark reality weighed upon us. We knew hard choices were made behind those doors, casting a gloomy shadow on our once jubilant spirits. Ariel whispered her apprehension, "I hope they find a solution that won't hurt the kids or the staff too badly."
We nodded in unison, faces somber. Sicily sighed, "Yeah, let's just keep our fingers crossed. We're all family here. That's why they organized a lively Kid's Day before diving into that serious meeting." We carried on nibbling our pizza, but now with a more muted air, the uncertainty loomed over our gathering. Time inched by, the meeting endured, and to make matters worse, Ava's crankiness intensified.
"I can't seem to soothe her," I confided, tenderly rocking Ava in my arms, seeking wisdom from the seasoned moms surrounding me. "Do you think she could be getting sick?"
"Perhaps, she's beginning to teethe," Ariel answered, feeling Ava's forehead. "Doesn't seem like she has a fever."
"I've got some Tylenol in my bag," Sicily chimed in.
Just as Sicily offered assistance, the staff emerged from the meeting room. Their expressions were drawn and grave. The ambiance plummeted further, but Chase, ever the optimist, endeavored to brighten the mood. He proclaimed with a teasing smirk, "Well, folks, the good news is Rosedale isn't bankrupt... yet!" The tense atmosphere softened as a smattering of nervous laughter broke free.
Mitch spotted Ava's restlessness and hurried over. "Hey, maybe we should head home," he proposed, concern evident in his voice.
With a nod of agreement, we bid farewell to everyone and made our way out. Strolling along, Mitch exhaled, "So much for our night together, just the two of us. Should I call Ella and ask for her advice?"
I shook my head, resolute. "No, we need to work this out ourselves. Ariel might be right; it could just be teething. She's at the right age, after all."
But as we continued toward the bungalow, Ava's wails grew louder and more urgent, casting a shadow of worry and uncertainty over us both. Mitch tried different types of music to calm her, alternating between classical compositions and gentle lullabies, but her cries only escalated. I could see the concern etched on Mitch's face as his gaze darted toward Ava in the rearview mirror. Together, we searched our minds for any potential source of her anguish, but we were too inexperienced to come up with a conclusion.
Arriving at the house, it felt like an eternity before the recently installed security gate finally creaked open. Mitch hurried inside as I lifted Ava from her car seat. He promptly found the list of emergency contacts on the fridge, including Ava's pediatrician. Just as he was about to dial, I spotted something odd on the countertop.
"Mitch, hold on!" I cried, pointing at the canister of infant formula. "This isn't Nutramigen. It's another brand called 'GentleCare.' Could that be what's bothering her?"
Mitch's brow furrowed as he scrutinized the container. "You may be onto something. I didn't even notice. Maybe Ella grabbed it by mistake, or the store was out of Nutramigen."
Setting his phone aside, he approached Ava and tenderly stroked her back. "Let's whip up a fresh bottle using the Nutramigen we have left and see if that does the trick."
While I prepared the bottle, Mitch cradled Ava, murmuring soothing words to her. She continued to cry, but her sobs seemed to abate somewhat as if picking up on her father's unease and wanting to make him happy.
Mitch fed Ava the freshly made bottle, and we observed her carefully for any changes. As she finished the formula, her sobbing gradually ceased, and she appeared more comfortable. We were grateful to have potentially discovered the root of her fussiness.
"Maybe we should call Ella and fill her in on the mix-up," I suggested while Mitch held a now tranquil Ava.
