Chapter 9
NINE
Usually, I can admit when I’m being a giant jackass, especially since it’s so rare that I am one. Apparently, this is not a skill set I have where Meredith is concerned.
Two days ago, I had every intention of coming home and trying to clear the air after the rough incident with the pool net and me being a gruff bastard.
But then I saw the broken bear in Meredith’s hand—the bear that Sydney had cherished because it was a gift from her grandmother.
And all my good intentions went out the window.
I’d left the figurines out despite childproofing the entire house because they were up on a high shelf, so I figured Kaylee would never be able to get them. Plus, it made me feel closer to Sydney knowing something she cherished was still present in our space.
Sometimes Kaylee and I would look at the figurines while I held her in my arms. I’d always been very clear with her that they were special and were not to be played with. She knew that they were her mommy’s but that someday they’d be hers.
In hindsight, I know it’s partially my fault they were out and that accidents happen. But that doesn’t change the fact that seeing Meredith holding it broken—the bear that had been Sydney’s personal favorite—made something in me shut down.
And instead of clearing the air, I once again became an asshole which isn’t something I’m proud of.
As I drive home from another day of practice, I’m determined to make things better this time.
Because this isn’t me. I’m not this guy—the one who’s rude and cold to someone, especially when they don’t deserve it. And if Meredith is feeling the tension half as much as I am, then one of us is bound to break sooner or later.
Despite my misgivings about having a nanny in the first place, I can’t deny that she and Kaylee have been good together. Kay is always sharing stories with me at dinner about what she and Meredith did during the day. And while I can’t understand half of what she’s saying, she’s happy and that’s the most important part.
So, I need to learn how to not be an asshole to Meredith, which shouldn’t be hard since I’ve prided myself on being a good guy for my entire life.
I pull into the driveway, park the car, and take a breath while staring at the front door of my house.
I love coming home, but I don’t like conflict. And there’s a knot in my gut at the thought that this conversation with Meredith might get fumbled up once more, because apparently I can’t get myself straight when it comes to her.
I play through different starting lines for how to get the conversation going on the right foot. When I’ve settled on one or two strong starters and feel confident that I can walk in the door and have a conversation appropriately and calmly, I finally get out and head inside.
I close the door behind me and set my duffle bag down on the ground.
“Meredith,” I call out.
“Daddy!” Kaylee squeals from the living room, and then the pitter-patter of my sweet girl’s little feet as she comes racing toward me fills the entryway.
My lips curve into a smile that only my daughter can bring to my face as I lift her into my arms.
“Hey, Sweetie, how was your—what is this ?” I stare at my daughter’s cheek where a red, angry scratch is, and then I shoot daggers at Meredith as she walks in behind her.
Meredith’s smile falls, but I don’t have a chance to reel myself back as worry and anger consume me.
“What the hell happened?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Daddy say bad word,” Kay says.
I clench my jaw and stare Meredith down. “Why is my daughter’s face scratched?”
Meredith stares back at me, and whatever warmth was on her face when she first saw Kaylee and me together has vanished. “We were playing hide and seek,” she says. “And Kaylee decided to hide in a bush. She got so excited when I came up behind her and yelled, ‘Surprise!’ that she dashed out and scratched her face on one of the branches.”
I turn to my daughter with my frown still on my face. “Is that what happened?” I ask her.
She nods with a big smile on her face. “It’s so fun! Play hide and seek, Daddy.”
I swallow thickly as my anger starts to fade, and with shame coursing through me, I sneak a glance at Meredith. But her gaze is locked on the ground.
Will I ever get it right with this woman?
Why do I always go to the worst-case scenario with her instead of trusting that she’s looking after my daughter and it’s an innocent mistake? It’s not like this is the first scratch Kay’s ever had before.
I open my mouth to apologize, but before any words come out, Meredith speaks. “If there’s anything else you need, I’ll be in the guesthouse. Otherwise, I’ll be back tomorrow morning for breakfast, like usual.”
She doesn’t look at me as she says it, and then without waiting for me to confirm or deny that there’s more I need from her, she waves, says good night to Kay, and then walks out the door.
Shit.