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ChapterOne
Ramsey
Isped around the corner, passing a car poking along. I didn’t care that there was a double solid line. My nanny called and told me there was an urgent situation at the house. My daddy mind was racing with the many possibilities. My little girl was my entire world. If she needed me, I was always going to be there. She was my priority. She was more important than anything else. She trumped my company, basic traffic laws, and even my own safety. I was all she had.
My nanny wasn’t generally an alarmist. When I got the call, she said I needed to get home. Not get home on time or early—now. When I tried to ask her what the hell was going on, she said she had to go. I called back and got no answer. I was picturing my little girl bleeding. I was imagining the nanny doing CPR.
I bounced into the driveway, half-expecting an ambulance to be waiting out front. Instead of a team of medics, it was my nanny I saw. I slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car. “What’s wrong?” I asked frantically. “Where’s Lily?”
“She’s at school,” she answered.
Her entire demeanor was off. It didn’t match up to the frantic phone call. She seemed irritated. She was tapping her foot, acting like she had been waiting for me for hours. My typical thirty-minute drive took me exactly eighteen minutes.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “You said it was urgent. What happened? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine.” She shrugged. “But I need to go.”
“You need to go?” I repeated. I was so confused. “Are you sick?”
“Of course not,” she scoffed. “I quit.”
“What?”
“I quit,” she said. “Effective immediately. I have a better job offer. A family with a new baby has offered me a job I can’t turn down. I prefer to work with infants. They are so much easier to take care of. They don’t talk back, and they don’t make messes.”
My first reaction wasfuck you. “Are you suggesting Lily talks back?” I asked in a voice just above a growl.
“She’s a child,” she replied. “They all have an opinion.”
“I’ve got a few opinions myself,” I said. “Are you suggesting you’re quitting today?”
“I’m not suggesting it,” she answered. “I am.”
“How dare you,” I hissed. “Lily has grown very fond of you. You’re going to up and leave without saying goodbye? You’re throwing her away for an infant. Rude. Horrible. What kind of person does that? Do you know how hard it was for Lily to accept you? She didn’t like you in the beginning. I’m the one who had to convince her to give you a chance.”
She didn’t seem to give a shit. “Lily will adjust,” she replied flippantly. “All kids do. This is the job I’ve been waiting for. It’s too good to pass up. Lily will be fine. You can mail my last check to the address I left you on the counter. The keys are also on the counter. Have a nice day and please tell Lily goodbye for me.”
She walked away without another word. I stood stupefied as she got in her car and drove out of the driveway, waving to me like she was running to the store for a gallon of milk and would return shortly. Except she wouldn’t be returning. And I was without a caregiver for Lily.
I checked my watch. “Shit.”
I had to get to school to pick up my daughter. It had been a long time since I had done the pickup thing. I knew there was a long line I was going to be waiting in. I would use the time to call the nanny service to start the whole long process again. I hated looking for a new nanny. It was the epitome of having to kiss a lot of frogs until you found your prince. In my case, it was taking time to interview thirty potential nannies and settling for the one that was the best of the mediocre.
Lily was my baby girl. My pride and joy. My whole world. No one was ever good enough for her. I knew I had high standards. What parent wouldn’t? I whipped my car into the school line and waited. And waited more. I would have made a phone call to the nanny service but it was way too stressful. There were kids running everywhere. At least twenty adults were directing traffic. It was a choreographed dance and I didn’t know the steps. I needed to pay close attention. I couldn’t afford to miss a wave forward and the sign to stop.
“Lily,” I answered when a teacher leaned down to ask who I was looking for.
“Dad!” Lily was about ten feet away. She waved and rushed toward my car.
The teacher looked skeptical at first but allowed Lily to hop in the backseat. “Hey, kid,” I said as I pulled away from the curb.
“How come you’re picking me up?” she asked.
I dreaded this. “She quit.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry. She had to quit. She had some other stuff going on.”
