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She worked at the ice cream shop in town, Scoops, when she was in high school, has an excellent credit score, no shady social media behavior to speak of, and no criminal record—not even a parking ticket.
Her references are outstanding. Her last employer, the woman Emily nannied for, couldn’t espouse her virtues more. Caring, thoughtful, dedicated, smart, funny. Her boss at the daycare center from her time during college describes her as an irreplaceable employee who truly has a heart for improving the lives of children.
It’s clear my parents found a very obvious slam dunk. Someone who will blow us all away with her efficiency and effectiveness.
But that doesn’t mean I’m ready.
Ready to pass over my responsibilities to someone else.
Ready to watch someone else parent my child.
I love Ted, more than anything on this earth. I chose to be a stay-at-home parent for a reason. I wanted those moments with him. Wanted to watch him grow up and learn and stumble and get back up. I want to be here with him.
Now, I’m essentially being forced out of that job I love so much. Forced out because of someone else.
I sigh and close Emily’s file, staring at it for a long moment before I head to the kitchen to drop my empty bottle in the recycling and chuck the manila folder back on the counter where I found it. Tugging out my phone, I shoot my parents a text. Looked at her file. I’m willing to meet her.
A notification on my email app catches my eye, and I tap on it, my eyebrows rising when I read through it.
Apparently, the DOE has accepted my application to fill a last-minute vacancy teaching high school history classes during summer school. Phrases like very impressed with your application and experience and top-notch recommendation letters pop out at me, but I scroll past them, my eyes scanning for a start date.
When I find it, I curse to myself.
Less than three weeks. I have less than three weeks before the first day of school in late May, which makes me want to launch my phone across the damn kitchen until it shatters so I can pretend I never got this stupid email.
If I start that soon, I really do need a nanny for Teddy. Not only during the summer session, but before it starts as I scramble to put together a lesson plan for curriculum I’ve never seen before.
Fuck.
Well, I guess I will be meeting Emily Burns tomorrow with a much more open disposition than I’d planned.
I head back to the fridge, tugging out another beer and popping the top off, hoping one more will help take the edge off. But as I turn to head back into the living room, my eyes catch sight of that same, stupid tree through the window over the sink. The southern magnolia that dominates our yard.
The one I want to chop into firewood.
The only reason I haven’t given in to the urge is because I know Teddy loves the way the flowers smell. He’s constantly collecting them off the ground as they fall and bringing me bouquets he wants to put in his room so he can smell them later.
And he loves the tire swing. He could spend all day in that thing and not even flinch.
So I’ll wait until he’s older. Until he can understand why that tree has to go.
For now, I’ll let it be the one remaining silent reminder of Mel.
Of her selfishness.
Of her despicable choices that didn’t take into consideration her husband or child.
Of her betrayal and all the broken pieces she left behind.
I’ll let it continue to grow, and every sweet-smelling flower will be a reminder of the sweet smiles she gave to me as she fucked other men. As she threw our relationship in the gutter and kicked her child to the curb.
I’ll let that tree stand as a silent reminder that as sure and proud and tall as it might seem, it can all be chopped down in a matter of minutes, leaving behind nothing but wreckage and ruin.
chapter four
emily
My eyes rake over the beautiful home at the south end of Bluebell Street, and I can’t help the little smile that crosses my face.
