CHAPTER 18
Jason
M aking a mistake in front of my kids leaves me vulnerable to their requests. Sensing my guilt, the boys push their luck tonight. They persuade me into letting them have cereal for dinner, coax me into watching YouTube videos on folding paper airplanes with Atticus and racing a car in a video game with Felix, then wrangle me into building a fort in their room way past their bedtime, the manipulative rascals.
Eden, on the other hand, reacted differently. After I insisted she eat something, she retreated to her bedroom and shut herself away.
Now I’m lying under the makeshift fort on the boys’ rug with Felix on one side and Atticus on the other. The usual toy clutter is absent from the floor. Valentina’s chore chart and reward system have made an impact. The tidiness doesn’t ease the heaviness on my chest—not only from the scare but also from my behavior afterward.
I want to ensure the kids have overcome the scare. Plus, steering the conversation toward their day distracts me from my concern, though Atticus saying the other driver admitted he caused the accident does not help my guilt.
They chatter about the fun indoor pool in the nearby town. Felix recounts the splashing and the sheer joy of the water, while Atticus dives into the various activities they enjoyed this week. “I loved cooking with Val’s mami.”
“Carlos taught us how to catch a baseball with a real glove before the game,” Felix adds.
While my mom is incredible with my kids, she’s not keen on herding them on one adventure after another. It’s too much work for a grandmother.
Meanwhile, Eden is probably dealing with her mother’s latest letdown. She’d apologized for chucking the phone after Daisy texted that she wasn’t going to show up.
I need to clear the air even with my kids. I clasp Felix’s fingers in one hand and Atticus’s in the other, drawing them close. “You know how I say adults get scared sometimes?”
“Like when you screamed so loud when I cut off your finger with a knife?” Atticus’s soft hair tickles my neck as he leans into me.
“That was an accident, and you didn’t cut off my finger.” Lesson learned. No sharp objects in reach of eager little hands during cooking sessions. “Anyway, I was scared when I heard about the accident, and I didn’t handle it well.”
Atticus slips his hand from mine and rolls onto my chest. Those big blue eyes blink down at me. “I don’t like how you were mean to Val.”
“That wasn’t nice,” Felix adds.
My chest tightens further. “I know. I’m sorry.” It doesn’t excuse my harshness. “I shouldn’t have yelled at her.”
“When you’re mad, it helps to go outside and shout.” Atticus presses down into my chest as he shares this nugget.
“And you’ve tried it before?” A slight smile cracks my lips.
“Yes. Val told me. And it helps.” He couldn’t be more sincere or endearing.
“Val is very nice.” Felix speaks slowly, as usual weighing each word first. “We had the best week ever.”
“I’ll try to make it right.”
“Is she coming back?” Felix’s underlying fear grips my heart.
“I hope so.”
In my anger, did I let slip any words suggesting Valentina was fired? How can I mend things this time? She’s had a long week, and she deserves the weekend off.
I need to make amends. But how? I, at last, tuck the boys in.
The driver’s door took the brunt of the impact. Valentina must be dealing with physical discomfort like headaches or whiplash on top of everything else. There’s so much I need to say, and I’d drive to her house right now and apologize if I could. But I’m tied down.
Heart heavy, I approach Eden’s room. Soft sobs escape the crack beneath her door. I rasp my knuckles on the door before letting myself in.
“Honey?” My chest tightens at the sight of her forlorn figure curled under the hot-pink comforter. I rush to squat at her bedside. I tuck the tendrils of her hair behind her ear.
“Can I talk to Mimi?” She sniffles, not looking up.
“Right now?”
“Mom didn’t come. She lied.”
“I know, baby.”
Like I do each time, I harbored some hope Daisy would follow through.
Eden pushes the comforter down to her waist and sits. “I’m sorry for throwing the phone in the water.”
“It’s okay.” I sit and hug her, feeling her tremble. “I can get you another phone.”
“I don’t want a phone anymore.” She wiggles free, grabs the soft stuffed giant giraffe from her bedside, and hugs it in her chest. “What’s the point?” Her sadness goes beyond a missed call.
I understand her need to disconnect from the constant letdowns. Opting not to bring up the car accident now, I focus on comforting her. I trace my thumb over her cheek, smudging away the dry trail of tears. If only I could smudge away the hurt as well!
“I’m your dad and I love you. You can be assured I’ll always be there for you. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
She draws out a sigh.
“The accident.” She eyes the stack of C. S. Lewis books next to a candle on her nightstand. “It wasn’t Val’s fault.”
“I know.”
She frowns at me.
It’s on my tongue to tell her she owes Valentina an apology. But I need to ask Valentina’s forgiveness first.
“Can I go to bed now?”
Her nightstand clock displays 12:40. It’s so late. Good thing it’s Friday, so we can all sleep in.
Not sure what else to say, I lean in and kiss the top of her head, savoring her fruity shampoo and hints of Valentina’s aromatic oils. Then I wish her good night and step out of her room.
When I settle in my bed, my thoughts drift to Valentina. In a mere three weeks, she’s become a part of our lives, fitting in as if she’s always been here. Her diligent care extends beyond the kids. She’s even managed our health better than I ever did. She organized our vitamins, replacing the expired ones and setting out daily doses for us all, complete with little labeled cups—a small but telling gesture of her thorough care.
I turn to my side, unable to turn my back to my mom’s advice, given when she’d sat across from me and demanded I apologize to Valentina face-to-face. I’ll drive to Brooklyn sometime this weekend, but right now, I reach for my phone.
She needs to know I’m sorry. I don’t want her to quit. I need her. My kids need her.
I’ve not managed to express how valued she is, not only as a nanny, but also as a part of our family. I hope I haven’t messed things up beyond repair.
I’m still tired the next morning, but the Easter egg hunt will make a good start for Saturday. So we’re soon at the park for the community event Ethan’s church organizes. Despite the cloudy skies, the air’s abuzz. Laughter enlivens the background as kids dart around. Their baskets swing alongside them in their hunt for colorful hidden eggs.
Eden’s seated on a bench by an evergreen tree, her head buried in a book. Around her, other kids run and laugh, yet she remains still. Maybe she’s outgrown these egg hunts or maybe something’s bothering her. Either way, her withdrawal casts a shadow that feels even deeper against the gray hues of the midmorning sky.
“How are those burgers coming?” The clap of hands and familiar voice pull my attention toward Ethan, and I refocus on my task as smoke rises from the beef patties.
“Still going.” I flip a few burgers, leaving the ones still too pink to cook longer.
Nothing seems to get past Ethan though, one of my best friends and also my pastor. Yes, my faith is flimsy, but Ethan is still my pastor. Now, he’s dressed in a hoodie bearing the Meadowbrook Community church logo, matching the one on my red apron and those worn by others manning the grills. Liam and Russ are also in charge of grilling, while some church members set up tables where food will be served.
“I’d hoped Valentina would join us today.” He thrusts his hands into his hoodie pouch. “I ran into her at Sips and Scripts, and I extended an invitation when she watched my kids on short notice.”
His soft tone hints they spoke on a more personal level. Unease churns within me, and I bite the inside of my cheeks, flipping a burger that’s still too pink to flip. Why didn’t Valentina tell me she’d watched Ethan’s kids? None of my kids told me either. But again, they’ve all been so busy.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Ethan grabs a platter and steps closer.
“It’s complicated.” And yet he is comfortable enough with Valentina to invite her to events while I’m still struggling to cross from professional to casual level.
“Sounds like an interesting complication.” A knowing grin spreads across his face. “You know, I’m good at managing complications.”
I lift my spatula toward the bustling crowd. “Aren’t you busy enough today?”
“That’s what I have you guys and all the church volunteers here for.” He lowers his head, his gaze meeting mine squarely. “Boys said you might be looking for a new nanny after all.”
“They told you that?” I scan the swarm of kids for my own.
Ethan then launches into my apparent domestic upheaval and how I lost my temper and caused Valentina to quit.
I chuckle. “I apologized to those rascals.”
“And you apologized to Valentina, I believe?”
My heart sinks. “She didn’t text me back.”
“Perhaps you need to kick up that apology.” Keeping his voice low, he glances around as if to ensure our conversation remains private. “I’m under the impression she’s going to be more than your nanny.”
“What do you mean?” I play innocent, but I know what he means. I set my mouth in a firm line, but my next words don’t sound convincing even inside my head. “She’s not my type.”
His smile widens, sinking dimple holes in his cheeks and aggravating me further. “Why did you go all stiff and clench-jawed when I said I ran into her at the coffee shop? Or was it because she watched my kids for a couple of hours?”
I exhale. The grilled-meat aroma turns my stomach, the thought of having a burger now unappealing.
Someone calls for Ethan, and he turns to leave, displaying a smirk only a pastor privy to his flock’s secrets could wear. “Remember that lesson about the rose and thorns!” he calls over his shoulder.
I’m attracted to Valentina, and my kids like her—even Eden does, despite her struggles to let her in. I have the same hesitation, but maybe it’s time to open that door.
Somehow, I make it through the community event. Then to cheer Eden up, I make a stop to the Sips and Scripts. As she wanders between the shelves, her pace is slow, almost reflective. I watch her, a chasm widening between us as my attempts to engage her fall short. I try calling their grandma, hoping a familiar voice might cheer her up, but the call goes to voicemail. We’ve only talked to her once since she left. With her and Phil moving from one country and city to another, communication is limited.
The day drags on, and around six, Eden complains of a stomachache, which might explain her quietness. She retires to her room, her face pinched. Her emotional state tugs at my heart as I follow her. What has Daisy done to distress our daughter like this?
“Can I borrow your phone?”
“Of course.” I hand it over and return to play with the boys. After almost thirty minutes, I leave them occupied with their Legos in the playroom and return to check on Eden.
She’s lying face up and lowers the phone as I enter. “Did you know Val advocates for women to be bold and independent and rely on themselves?”
The proper way my daughter explains it gives a new perspective to Valentina’s show. I sit on the edge of the bed.
“That’s why she wanted us to learn to do our laundry and chores. So we don’t have to depend on Eliana doing it for us all the time.”
She has a point there. But it’s good to have a balance. “It’s important to accept help sometimes.”
“Have you watched her show?”
Valentina must’ve told her about her life in the spotlight.
I nod. I watched segments among the many hours I spent on the internet reading bloggers and comments about the show. But I don’t tell Eden about my odd first meeting with Valentina.
“Can I... call Val?” She blinks at me, appearing almost fearful of my reaction.
“Okay.” I’m still unsure how Valentina feels about us after yesterday’s misunderstandings. I’ve checked my phone throughout the day, but she hasn’t texted me back. I’ll visit her tomorrow, after church. It’s Easter, and the kids are looking forward to the morning church service.
Eden scrolls through the phone and taps her finger on the screen. I hear the phone ringing, perhaps she accidentally activated the speakerphone.
“Hello?” Valentina’s voice sounds hesitant and weary. Does she think it’s me?
“Val, it’s Eden. I–I just wanted to hear your voice.”
Her vulnerability breaks my heart.
After a brief pause, Valentina responds in a softer tone. “Hey, Eden. Everything okay?”
“I’m so sorry, Val. I’m sorry for saying you caused the crash when you didn’t. I, um, I wanted Daddy to fire you.” Eden’s hand shakes as tears threaten to take over. I want to pull her into my arms, proud of her for taking responsibility. I can’t take credit for her conviction, so I remain still, letting her focus on what she needs to say. “What’s the point of you being my friend when you’re going to leave? Mom left, and... I don’t know what got into me.”
“It’s okay.” Valentina’s warmth emanates through her voice.
“Are you mad at me?”
“I’m proud of you for being so brave and owning up to your mistake.”
Eden breathes out, her shoulders relaxing. “Can you come here, Val?”
“Go there? Why, honey?”
“I have a question to ask you. It’s something I can’t talk to Dad about.” Eden shrugs at me, urgency still alight in her eyes.
“You know you can talk to your dad about anything,” Valentina reassures her. “You’re the center of your dad’s world, and he’ll do anything for you. Do you know you have the best dad in the world? You’re so lucky. My dad is alive, but he’s never been involved in our lives like your dad.”
Eden presses the phone tight to her ear, seemingly unaware it’s on speaker.
Valentina considers me a great dad? I don’t even feel halfway there yet. My chest squeezes.
Eden glances at me. “He’s awesome.”
I blink away the tears, my vision flickering like bad TV reception. Now I’m unsure what to do with this private conversation I got myself into.
“I can’t believe you said all that. My dad doesn’t even like you.” Eden has my eyes widening.
“He likes me.” A playfulness lilts Valentina’s voice. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Why did you say I don’t like her?” The words fly out before I realize I’m interfering in a private conversation.
Then comes a dreadful pause on the other end of the line.
“Oh.” Valentina gasps. “Your dad’s right there?”
I wince. “Sorry. Phone’s on speaker.”
Her snort comes loud through the speaker. “Okay. I take back all the things I said about him—if by mistake I said anything nice.” She’s laughing now. “But it doesn’t matter whether he likes me or not. He’s your dad. You are his priority.”
“Can you still come?” Eden asks again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s something I need... a woman’s help.”
Maybe Valentina could be more than a nanny—a comforting female role model amidst the turmoil Daisy’s inconsistency causes.
Not wanting to be an intruder in this private moment anymore, I exit the room and click the door closed behind me. As I walk down the hall, Mom’s talk during Christmas break intrudes. Is Eden starting her menstruation? She’s only eleven. Don’t those things start, like, at fourteen?
I don’t know about that, but I’m sure of one thing. Valentina’s role in our lives is much needed. Mom is always there for us, but she now has her own life. I need to make things right, not just for Eden’s sake but also for the harmony of our entire family. I’d better not be too late to bridge the gap I’ve created.