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Lily leaned back in the seat. I glanced in the rearview mirror, pissed that my daughter was sad. That wasn’t cool. Fucking nanny.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” she said.
“I know.” I nodded. “I’m sorry. That happens sometimes.”
Those weren’t exactly the words that were going to heal her heart. “Hey, why don’t we go get some dinner,” I offered. “Didn’t you say there was a place around here that has really good milkshakes?”
Her face lit up. “Yes! The diner! Can we go? We sometimes get hamburgers there.”
It was a little early for dinner, but it wasn’t like I knew what we had at home. I wasn’t prepared to cook a meal. That was the nanny’s job. “Sounds good to me.”
I found the diner and pulled into the parking lot. It seemed like an odd place for a diner, but given the age of the building, I assumed it was one of the last holdovers before everything was torn down and revamped.
We walked into the diner that was relatively empty. There was a sign instructing guests to seat themselves. Lily led the way like she knew the place. I suspected my recently departed nanny relied on the diner more often than I was aware. She was paid to make meals for Lily. I probably should have paid a little more attention, but the last few months had involved a lot of long days. I just assumed my instructions were being followed.
“Your waitress will be right over,” a woman said and dropped two menus. She delivered two waters and walked away.
“Can I get the birthday cake milkshake?” Lily asked.
“The what?”
“It tastes like a birthday cake, but it’s a milkshake,” she explained.
“That sounds really healthy,” I said dryly. “Fine. Yes.”
She deserved a treat after getting dumped on her ass. Poor kid.
“And I want chicken strips,” she continued as she read the menu. “No burger.”
I absently nodded my head as she talked. With my phone in hand, I quickly texted Izzy asking for help with daycare for next week. I was hoping between Cam, Izzy, and myself, we could cover Lily’s daycare needs. She was eight and didn’t exactly need a lot of care, but she did need someone to make sure she didn’t burn the house down.
I sent the text and put my phone down to scan the menu. It was all pretty basic diner offerings. “You’re getting chicken strips?” I asked Lily.
“Yes.”
“Fries or mashed potatoes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
When she didn’t immediately answer, I peered over the menu to find her looking at me like I was batshit crazy. “Fries.”
“But you need to get coleslaw,” I said. “We need to pretend you’re getting some kind of nutrition.”
“I don’t like coleslaw,” she replied.
I was probably fighting a losing battle. Was it really going to kill her not to eat veggies at one meal? Her school lunch probably contained some kind of vegetable. “Fine.” I sighed.
I had to pick my battles. “Did you have a good day at school?” I asked her.
“We got to play a game for history,” she said. “It was pretty fun.”
“Did you have music today?”
I felt bad for not being more in tune with what she was doing in school. I probably should have known these things. It was Friday. I would spend the weekend getting familiar with her schedule—while searching for a new nanny.
“Not on Fridays,” she answered as if I should have known that.
I probably should have. “What else did you do?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged.
