“Doubtful.” And like that she hung up.
“Seth we are going to Nana’s house for a little bit.”
In response, he blew spit bubbles, his new favorite pastime. Oh, but to be that oblivious to the harshness of the world around me.
He was such a happy-go-lucky, adorable kid. He didn’t ask to have a father in jail, grandparents who were made of ice, living with an almost-full-time art teacher with less than two nickels to rub together, a house that was falling apart, and no hope of any of it changing. He deserved so much better.
We pulled into the driveway just as the rain stopped, and, for half a second, I thought maybe our luck was changing. Six phone calls later, it became quite obvious it had not. The skies opened up again just as I called the last person who might be able to help me tarp the roof. I ended up having to hire someone, someone who’d gladly take a check for nine hundred eighty-three dollars and no cents. My savings for the new roof had suddenly dwindled to less than twenty dollars.
I needed a new plan. Or a winning lottery ticket. Or a roof fairy. I didn’t care which. At least Seth had a dry room to sleep in while I figured it all out.
Chapter One
Kylos
The cruise was scheduled for less than one week out, but so far, I had not been able to find the right solution for Eric. I had, in fact, turned the engagement down the first time it was offered to me, but the keynote speaker, my PhD advisor and good friend, had bowed out at the last minute due to health concerns. Had this opportunity been a consideration several months earlier, I could have enrolled Eric in the single camp that offered the sort of comprehensive program worthy of his time and intelligence. The same camp he’d spent every summer at since he was four. But after returning home the previous summer, he’d begged to skip a summer and have some “downtime,” so instead, I’d enrolled him in a variety of classes to fill the hours while I was at my office because, no matter his IQ, he was still a child. And nine years old was too young to be home alone all day. Ask the experts.
Ask me.
My book, The Expert Guide to Raising Successful Children had been on the bestsellers list for over a year with no signs of slowing down. I’d already done the morning shows and a few in the evening but, despite all the requests, never brought Eric with me. Children did not belong in front of the cameras. They needed to use their time to learn and grow into the successful, fulfilled adults they all could be.
As I pointed out in chapter one, a child needn’t have the IQ or gifts of mine—I didn’t compare Eric in the actual book, only in my mind—to reach their potential. Each was different, but it was critical the parent provide the opportunities for them to reach for their own stars. Even an average child had potential if their parents worked hard—and ensured their progeny did as well—in pursuit of their goals.
I opened the file containing book two, with a working title of Continuing to Raise Successful Children. That title might or might not stick, but it held the general idea. The first had been written while I was working a lot of my theories out, but now I could see how well they worked. Raising Eric alone was harder than I could ever have dreamed, but I was doing my very best. He deserved the very best. My book was the popularized version of my thesis, which I had completed shortly after losing my husband.
Cruising Your Way to Better Parenting offered a unique opportunity to work with a large group of moms and dads who also faced their unique set of challenges. In addition to the keynote speech, I was scheduled to conduct workshops, give lectures, have some “fun” exercises—since “fun” was a requirement for this event. I was also interested in attending some of the other speakers’ seminars. Keeping up on advances in the field was critical, and being a dad limited my away-from-home time.
A ping announced an incoming email, and I clicked over to find a reply from Manny’s Mannies. Despite the parochial name, the agency came highly recommended. I could not go away for two whole weeks without proper supervision—someone to live in on a temporary basis and drive Eric to his various educational classes and activities as well as those intended for recreation such as swimming lessons and Spanish club.
“Daddy?” I turned with the smile I wore every time my son came into the room. He was tall, blond, and had his other father’s blue-green eyes. My late husband’s Nordic roots had overwhelmed my Greek and Italian. I felt the slight tightening in my chest that arose whenever I thought about Sven. He’d been so proud when he gave birth to Eric. We’d laid awake at night, planning his future. Eric would be a doctor, lawyer, concert cellist, engineer, and eventually president of the United States.
Of course, that was silly. He wouldn’t do all those things, but he would have every opportunity to learn which suited him best. And he didn’t have time to feel the lack of a second dad. The boy was busy. And happy, I thought.
But his expression right now was anything but. I closed the email window and pointed to the chair next to my desk. “Have a seat, son. Why so serious? Is something wrong?”
“Daddy, I don’t want to stay home with a manny while you go on your trip.” He thrust out his lower lip in a pout I also recognized from Sven. My heart squeezed. “It’s not fair.”
“Eric, we discussed this when the offer came in. I agreed with your request to stay at home this summer. You know I wouldn’t have accepted this offer if Professor Mikoff had not requested I do so. He is a good friend to us.”
“I know, Dad, but why do I have to stay in this dumb town instead of traveling with you on the ship?” He slapped a brochure for the voyage on the table in front of me, and I arched a brow. “There will be several stops in ports of call, providing excellent enrichment opportunities.”
I suppressed a sigh. “Eric, you are spending the summer in this ‘dumb town’ at your own request. You could be at camp but chose otherwise.” I believed letting children choose their paths, with appropriate guidance of course, to be critical to their development.
He shrugged. “That was before I found out about the cruise.” He laid a hand on my leg and offered me the winsome look that I warned parents could lead to less-than-intelligent decision-making. “Please take me, Daddy? I won’t be any bother at all.”
“But what about all your plans for the summer? Engineering day camp?” I’d had to pull strings to get him into that one. “Cello with Mr. Masroanni? Swimming lessons?” Why did my agreeable child have to pick now to be less than? “You were really looking forward to those.”
He flipped open the colorful brochure. “I was, and they offer them every day in one of the pools. And diving!” The lessons were on the page advertising the kids’ club that apparently was offered even on this particular voyage. Seemed the parents were bringing their offspring.
“Eric, I don’t know. You’re signed up for a full schedule this summer. Maybe next year…”
But his eyes filled with tears. Chapter two, don’t let tears make your decisions for you. Shit. “Dad, I-I am kind of scared of you being on a boat without me. How will I know you’re okay?”
And there it was. Sven died in a sailing accident when Eric was four. Had he been harboring a fear of boating? He had been eager to learn to swim this year, whereas he had seemed reluctant in the past but not frightened. Just disinterested.
“Eric, are you afraid of boats?” There, get it out.
“N-no. I just don’t want you to go on one without me.” My fierce son. He was so protective. Like Sven. But I suspected he was also a little afraid, and the sooner we pushed past this the better. If I could arrange supervision for him, he would go on the trip. And when we returned, sailing lessons on the small, calm pond outside of town. Fears could keep a child from achievement. Chapter four.
“All right, son, let me see what I can do. I would miss you, too.” I had missed him every summer but did whatever I needed to for his benefit. “Let me see what I can arrange, okay? I don’t know if I can get a temporary manny who is willing to travel on such short notice.” They’d have to have a passport for one thin
g.
As Eric left to continue working on his homework from test prep class, I reopened the email, read their announcement that they had a manny lined up for me, and hit reply.
Good afternoon. I have had a change in plans and wondered if…
Chapter Two
Graysen
“Here are the keys and the number for my parents if you have any questions.” I handed the keys to the contractor who swore they could fix my roof before I returned from the manny gig. I didn’t have the best feeling about him, but he was willing to take a payment plan after seeing the contract from Manny’s, something no one else would do thanks to my end-of-the-year pink slip from school. Never mind I got them every year as part of their last-minute budget negotiations, and I always had a job come fall. Sad that I lived in a community where they had to threaten to remove art from the schools every year.
“We will be ready in plenty of time. You tarped things just in time.” His words were definitely a matter of opinion.
I should’ve tarped it after the first leak had sprung, then I wouldn’t have three walls needing to be replaced. At least that I knew how to do myself—sort of—and I had already removed the things that needed removing. It wasn’t the safest for Seth and meant he spent most of his time at home in his room. I was going to replace the sheetrock as soon as I got back from the cruise—when I had the money to buy the supplies.
“Are you sure you need to remove all the shingles before putting on the new?” That had added two grand to the quote, two grand I didn’t have. I was going to have to take more manny gigs before school was back in session, that was for sure.
“I wish I didn’t. In the front quadrant, you already have three layers. It looks like someone before you tried to fix an issue without any skill.”
“Can you just do that part?”
“Two is already an issue, sir. I promise to do this as reasonably as I can.” And for whatever reason, I suddenly believed him, and my concern over the work being done and on time dissipated. I had a feeling it had a lot to do with the huge hug Seth gave him the first time he walked through the door. That sweet boy had yet to meet a stranger.
“Thank you.” I forced a smile, the entire day overwhelming. I was leaving the toddler, currently asleep in the carrier on my back, with my parents who would feed and clothe him during my absence, but as far as meeting his emotional needs, I had concerns. Which hurt on so many levels. I was going into debt I still hadn’t quite figured out how to pay. I was going on a cruise with strangers. Yeah, the day fell so far outside my comfort zone it wasn’t even funny.
After we said our goodbyes, I finished packing the car for the trip and headed to my parents on the way to my employer, an employer I had only met briefly over a video conference in Manny’s office. He appeared nice enough if a bit stiff and snooty. He was good on the eyes, something I tried not to think too much about. He was my boss not a booty call.
Seth slept the entire way to my parents, which I counted as a blessing. He’d be well rested when he got there and less likely to be cranky when I left. The last time they watched him, when his daycare had a power outage and I still had to work, he bawled when I left. They didn’t appreciate that, taking it personally. Which, to be fair, it might have been. Kids sense when they make people uncomfortable, and my parents very much were.
I pulled into their driveway only to see their car in the way, the trunk open, and two suitcases by the bumper.
Fuck.
I did a three point turn in the neighbor’s drive and parked in front of that house, taking Seth out of his car seat and walking up to the front door just as my dad emerged with another suitcase.
“Your mom was just about to—”
My phone rang in my pocket.
“Call you,” he finished.
“About?” Because I wasn’t going to answer her call with me only a threshold away.
“There has been a change of plans, and we are going to Vegas for the week.” He brushed past me as if that answered things.
“That’s not exactly kid friendly,” I called to him.
“Talk to your mother.”
And talk to my mother I did. They’d decided watching their grandson for two weeks was just too much and Vegas was a better option—without fucking talking to me about it. There were so many things I needed to say to my parents, but time was marching on, and I needed to figure out a plan B stat. Not only was my job at stake but also the well-being of a nine-year-old boy who had no one else to watch him.
I called Manny whose message said that he, too, was out of town in Vegas. Gah, I was beginning to hate that place.
Not knowing what else to do, I drove to the meeting place to let my almost-future boss know I was going to be that employee, the one who left him in the lurch. How I managed to hold back the tears and keep a happy face as I drove down the street would forever be a mystery.
No. Scratch that. Not a mystery. It was for Seth. Everything was for Seth. I was the only person in this world he could rely on, and if that meant making the impossible work with a smile on my face, damn straight I was going to.
There had to be another seasonal job out there that could work around my minimal childcare options. And after I told Kylos the bad news, I was going to find one. Maybe I could get some drywall work. I hadn’t been properly trained, but fixing the holes my brother left in walls over the years when he lost his temper had taught me enough to possibly get some under-the-table work. Yes, there were more opportunities beyond the manny gig. I just needed to find them.
Chapter Three
Kylos
Despite my strict scheduling, last-minute details for the cruise inevitably cropped up. I reminded myself, for the hundredth time, that I could not control the incompetence of others, but finally, we were ready to go. Eric, in fact, stood by the door, wearing his new cruise wear and clutching his backpack. I’d sent most of the luggage ahead to the ship, and a car, paid for by the sponsoring organization, waited out front. I checked my list on the tablet and nodded in satisfaction. “Ready, son?” A few years ago, I’d have asked if he made a last bathroom visit before leaving the house, but he also had a checklist on his phone, shared with me...so I didn’t have to ask.
“Yes, Dad.” He was bouncing a bit in his new sneakers, and despite my “business trip” mindset, I chuckled.
“Remember, I will be very busy onboard and your manny will be working with you, so you can keep up with the classes you’re missing. When we get back, you can step right into your summer plans as if you’d never left.”
A small line formed between his straight blond brows, the sign of a storm brewing, but we’d discussed this before. The cruise was a working vacation—emphasis on working—for us both. Rather than ague, to my great relief, he opened the door and moved down the steps toward the long, black car and the man waiting with the door open for us. Eric slid inside, and I followed, setting my briefcase next to me on the seat and flipping it open.
The manny we were picking up at a coffee house near his home was a teacher during the school year, which checked off all my boxes in that department. He would be provided a copy of the schedule for Eric’s summer enrichment program along with activity suggestions for both exercise and a bit of socialization. Since he’d be with me, I’d made the monumental decision to have my son take the stage during the keynote address. It would be an opportunity for this select group to observe the subject of my work and the joy of my heart. Eric was usually perfectly behaved, only an occasional balking, probably due to being a child, creating any waves in our smooth partnership.
“Dad,” Eric said, looking at the brochure he’d worn out since first presenting it to me. “They have a parent/child hour every afternoon with activities we can do together. Lots of art projects, crafts, a few contests. Do you think you can come?” He drew his brows down. “If you want?”
Shit…
“Of course, I would like to... What time is it?”
“Two to three?”
“I think…” I consulted my schedule. “I have commitments, looks like every day at that time. Your manny will go with you, though, if it’s important to you.” I put the tablet down in the open case. “Sounds kind of childish, though, doesn’t it? I’ve never thought you were big on art.”
“Well...I like it but… Anyway, never mind. I’m just glad you brought me with you. It’s nice to spend whatever time you have together.”
Guilt. I covered that in chapter nine. So why did I still feel it? Eric was the focus of everything in my life. His future happiness and, well, success, mattered far more than my own. “Me, too, son,” I replied, offering positive reinforcement without encouraging the emotional blackmail. “We will have dinner together several times at the very least.”
“That will be fun,” he muttered, shoving the brochure back in his pocket.
I felt I should say something more, but the car stopped and the driver stepped out and moved to the passenger side. I looked around for a teacher-type but saw only a young man holding a toddler by the hand. Where was the manny?
Then the man scooped up the baby and started toward the open door. He bent inside and said, “Mr. Thermopolis?”
“Thermopolous,” I told him. “But, yes, that’s me. How can I help you?” Perhaps this was someone else’s manny and mine was running late—had sent his friend to let me know he’d be a few moments?
“I’m Graysen, and something has suddenly come up. I’m afraid I can’t accompany you on your trip.”
Shock. Anger. Dismay. I registered the emotions as I stepped out of the car. “Eric, I will be just a moment to straighten this out. It will all be fine.” It had better be. Nothing upset me more than having my plans go awry. I waved to the driver who closed the door before I walked a few feet away. The manny followed. In the shade of the awning in front of Cafe Coffee, I spun to face him. “So...how will this be fine? I see you took another job watching another child instead, leaving me in the lurch? Did they offer more money?”
A Bundle of Mannies Page 13
