31. Sloane
THIRTY-ONE
Sloane
"Do you see how the edges curve right here?" I crouch between Lennon and Micah, pointing to the massive granite sculpture towering above us. "That's called an arc. Can you find another arc somewhere else on it?"
Lennon's small finger traces the air, following the sweeping curve of stone. "There. And there too."
Micah bounces on his toes. "It looks like a dinosaur tail!"
The Ann Norton Sculpture Gardens spread around us in lush, tropical splendor. Massive sculptures rise from the greenery like ancient monuments, their smooth surfaces catching the afternoon light. It's peaceful here. This is exactly the kind of peace I desperately need right now.
"Good eye, Micah. And what shapes do you see in that one?" I point to another sculpture nearby.
The boys scamper off toward it, their voices carrying across the garden. Angela adjusts baby Tyler in his carrier, the infant miraculously sleeping through our art expedition.
"They're really taking to this," Angela whispers. "Homeschooling through art. Such a brilliant idea."
I manage a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "They're absorbing everything like little sponges. This place is amazing."
When the boys disappear around a massive bronze piece, Angela turns to me. "You okay? You seem a million miles away today."
"Just tired." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Things keep getting stranger and harder. I never expected things to go so sideways so fast."
"With Pope?"
I nod, watching Lennon and Micah's small forms weaving between sculptures. "Commuting back and forth makes it all seem so much less personal with Lennon, but it helps me keep boundaries." My voice catches. "I hardly see Pope anymore, which is for the best. It just sucks. It all sucks."
Angela shifts Tyler slightly, pulling the top cover over his head to protect him from the sun. "Is it for the best, though? Because you look miserable."
"What other choice do I have?" The words come out more bitter than intended. "I can get through the rest of the time. I love Lennon enough to do it."
"I thought you said your new job started sooner."
"It does, but when I called to see if I could end the contract, the lady at the agency basically bit my head off. It's fine, though. Coastal will honor the original late start, and the money is good."
"Yeah. And we get you a little longer."
My chest tightens. "You can't shake me, now. Our friendship isn't going anywhere when this ends. I just won’t be Lennon’s nanny.”
Angela loops her arm in mine and rests her head on my shoulder. Tyler stirs but doesn't wake up. Micah looks like he will climb on one of the statues and her head is back up in mom-mode.
"Micah, get down from there. You don't climb on those! I swear, I'm going to have my hands full with that one."
"I love his spirit. He's going to be just fine."
"Yeah. So, back to Pope. How are things with him?"
Angela raises an eyebrow. "When is Lennon going to live with his aunt?"
"Cousin." My throat tightens as I force the words out. "I guess in around nine weeks. That's my understanding. No one tells me things, so I’m going off the original plan.”
"So Pope is doing all of this, fighting his dirty father, cutting you off, all for just a few more weeks of temporary guardianship?"
"Yep. Until Camila can take him." I lower my voice, glancing at the boys to make sure they're still absorbed in their artistic exploration.
"Tell me who this cousin is again. Sorry, I can't keep it all straight."
"Lennon's mother's first cousin, Camila, promised his mother she would raise Lennon.
But I think around the time of her death, Camila was going through her own life challenges.
You know, divorce, finding a place to live, stuff like that.
She asked Pope to take him so custody wouldn't default to their father, Chris, while she finalized her stuff and found a bigger place.
She's his godmother and was his mom's best friend. "
"That's a lot. So why is Pope fighting for custody if Camila wants him?"
I rub my temples, feeling a headache forming. "Because Chris found out about Maria's life insurance and the house she left Lennon. Suddenly, he wants to play daddy for the payday."
“Ahh. Okay, I think I get it now. That's awful." Angela's face clouds with disgust. "What does any of this have to do with you and Pope? I'm so confused."
A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "Apparently, you're not supposed to sleep with the nanny."
Angela snorts, then covers her mouth. I join her in a moment of inappropriate laughter before we both sober.
"Chris is using it against Pope in court," I explain.
"Pope's probably in Jacksonville right now, meeting with Chris and the guardian ad litem.
I overheard him asking if Lennon could skip this one because it upsets him too much.
" I run my fingers through my hair. "I only know bits and pieces. It's a nightmare I can't wake up from."
Angela touches my arm, her eyes full of concern. "And you're caught in the middle."
"I put myself there. My friend warned me. I never should have gone there with him. I knew it was a bad idea, and I did it anyway.” I watch Lennon pointing something out to Micah, his small face animated in a way it rarely is.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to see Elite Nanny Agency scroll across the screen.
I stare at my phone, heart thumping against my ribs.
"Angela, can you watch the boys for a minute?" I call over my shoulder, already backing away toward a massive stone sculpture that resembles a wave. "I need to take this."
Angela nods, patting Tyler's backside through the sling as the boys continue their exploration.
I duck behind the sculpture, the cool shade a stark contrast to the heat rising in my face. My finger trembles as I swipe to answer.
"Hello?"
"Sloane, it's Vanessa Williams from Elite Nanny Services." Her crisp, professional voice sounds exactly as it did the day she offered me this job.
"Hi Vanessa."
"How is your day?"
"We’re at the Ann Norton Sculpture Gardens for homeschool, so not too bad. How about yours?"
"Busy. Look, I don’t want to pull you away for too long. I know you have your hands full. I wanted to let you know tomorrow will be your final day with the Carrigan family."
My breath sticks in my throat. "I’m sorry, what?"
"We were able to find a suitable nanny to finish out your contract, as you requested."
"Oh, wow. I didn’t think?—"
"Your replacement will arrive at eight tomorrow morning. I’ll be there to meet her and make the introduction," Vanessa continues without missing a beat.
"So you don’t need me to come tomorrow?"
"I’d like you to let the new nanny shadow you. Walk her through Lennon’s daily routine, your homeschooling plan, and any expectations Mr. Carrigan has established."
I press my back against the cool stone sculpture, suddenly grateful for its support.
"When I called about possibly ending early, I didn’t expect it to happen like this. I was just asking questions.” My voice cracks.
"After you and I spoke, I talked to Mr. Carrigan, and he confirmed the change works perfectly for him." Her tone stays clipped, professional. “We pulled the original applicants and found someone who can start quickly and meets all of the time requirements.”
The world tilts beneath my feet. He’s already reorganized everything. As if erasing me were nothing more than updating a spreadsheet.
"Mr. Carrigan has also arranged for you to receive payment for the full nine-week contract, even though you didn’t finish the original contract time.”
My knees weaken. "He what?"
"You’ll get the remainder of the pay tomorrow at midnight through ACH. Does that work for you?"
It sounds almost casual, like I should be thrilled at being paid a fortune for not showing up. And maybe most people would be. But my chest aches as I struggle to keep my voice steady.
I press my palm to my forehead, trying to process. It's less like generosity and more like a payoff.
"Yes," I whisper. "That’s fine."
"Excellent. Then we’ll see you tomorrow at eight sharp for the transition. Enjoy the rest of your day, Ms. Brennan."
The call ends. I push myself upright, forcing strength back into my limbs.
I walk back to Angela, my feet feeling like they're trudging through sand. The boys are crouched down examining a small brass sculpture nestled among ferns, completely oblivious to my world crumbling.
"Sloane?" Angela checks on Tyler and then puts the light cotton cover back over his head. Her eyes scan my face. "What just happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I clear my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. "Tomorrow's my last day."
"What?" Her eyes widen. "But I thought you had five more weeks."
"So did I." The words come out flat, hollow. "Pope's already hired a replacement. They're coming tomorrow morning for the handoff."
I sink onto a nearby bench, the carved stone cool against my thighs. Angela sits beside me, bouncing Tyler gently as he starts to fuss.
"I was just completely blindsided." My fingers twist together in my lap. "Just as we were finding our new normal, the rug gets pulled out from under me. Again."
Angela reaches over with her free hand and squeezes mine. "I'm so sorry. This whole situation is just awful."
I watch Lennon point something out to Micah, his small face animated in a way it rarely was when I first met him. My chest aches at the thought of saying goodbye.
"I'll make sure to introduce you to the new nanny." I force myself to think practically. "You and Micah can still do the homeschool partnership with Lennon. I don't want him to lose that, too."
"I've loved being part of this." Angela's voice softens. "Micah adores Lennon. And I've loved getting to hang out with you."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
"Are you okay?" Her concern wraps around me like a blanket.
"I will be." I straighten my shoulders. "At least I can tell Coastal I'm available to start next week, now."
"That's something," Angela agrees, though her eyes remain worried.
"And Pope's paying me for the full contract." The words make me angry, even though it should be a relief. "So financially, I'm secure."
What I don't say, what I can't say without my voice breaking, is how my heart is being torn from my chest at the thought of never seeing Lennon again. Or Pope.
The little world we created, however briefly, is about to vanish forever.
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I blink them back. Not here. Not now.
"I'm going to find a picnic table for us to have lunch." I stand, smoothing my hands down my shorts. "We only have about thirty minutes before we should head to Seabreeze."
As I call the boys over, I try not to think about tomorrow morning, when I'll hand over Lennon's carefully crafted schedule to a stranger.
I drive with the windows down, needing air, lots of it. My knuckles are white on the steering wheel as I pull into Pope's driveway for the last time. A black Lexus sits in the spot I usually park.
Eight on the dot. They're already here.
"Breathe," I whisper to myself. "Just get through this."
Vanessa Williams stands in the entryway, her iPad in hand, looking impeccable in her red pantsuit. Beside her is a woman in her forties with graying blonde hair pulled into a perfect twist.
"Sloane, this is Margaret Wheeler," Vanessa makes the introduction. "Twenty years of experience, specializing in high-profile clients with trauma backgrounds."
The woman extends her hand. Her grip is firm and professional. "It's nice to meet you."
I force a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Likewise."
Lennon appears at the top of the stairs, still in his pajamas, his dark hair mussed from sleep. His eyes move from me to Margaret, confusion clouding his features.
"Who's that?" he asks, his voice small.
My heart cracks wide open. I climb the stairs and kneel before him, keeping my voice light. "This is Ms. Margaret. She's going to be hanging out with you. How cool is that?"
His brow furrows. "Will she hang out with you, too?"
I swallow hard. “Today, yes. But remember how I told you I'd be starting my new job soon? The one I went to school for? I have to go do that next week.”
Lennon's eyes fill with tears. "But not today. You didn't say today."
"I'm going to be here today with you. You're not getting rid of me that fast."
The next two hours blur together as I show Margaret everything in between our lessons. I give her Lennon's visual schedule, list out his favorite breakfast options, and email her the homeschool curriculum I designed with Angela.
I explain his sensory triggers, how he needs warning before transitions, and how he likes his sandwich cut into triangles, not squares.
Margaret nods, jotting it down. She’s professional and competent. And a complete stranger.
At Seabreeze, we make the drop-off together. Dr. Maya blinks in surprise when she sees us both. "Two nannies today?"
"Just today," I manage. "Margaret’s taking the reins from here, so I wanted to introduce her."
Lennon pipes up quickly, desperate. "Sloane knows about the horseshoe crabs. And she lets me hold the magnifying glass myself."
I force a smile, my throat tight. "I’m sure Ms. Margaret will learn all your favorite things, too."
When it’s time, I kneel in front of him. "I have to go now. Ms. Margaret will pick you up today."
His face crumples. "No." He flings his arms around my neck, clinging with everything he has. "I don’t want you to go. I want you."
The tears I’ve been holding back finally spill. I crush him to me, breathing in the salt of his hair. "I know, sweet boy. I know."
"Please don’t leave me," he sobs against my shoulder.
"This isn’t goodbye forever," I whisper, lying to us both.