Irresistible (Cloverleigh Farms #1)(72)

“Fine.” She tugged on her boots and put on her coat.

“Are you liking it?”

“Mmhm.” She freed her hair from the back of her coat and zipped it up. “See you tomorrow.”

“Frannie, wait.”

She froze with her back to me, one hand on the door.

“I hate this,” I said quietly.

“Me too. If you want to hire someone else to watch the girls, I’ll understand.”

I swallowed hard. “They’d miss you.”

“I’ll miss them too.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t even sure you’d show up today.”

“It was hard, but …” She glanced back at me. “I came for them.”

I nodded slowly. “Can you come one more time? Tomorrow? I’ll start looking for a replacement for next week.”

“Of course.” She paused. “I can tell them it’s because of my new job at the coffee shop. That way they aren’t confused or … hurt.”

She was still putting them first. It gutted me. “I’ll handle it. You don’t have to tell them anything.”

She left without saying goodbye.

That evening was a repeat performance of Tuesday, except I made Millie cry, I sent Felicity to her room, and Winnie didn’t even want me to kiss Ned the Hammerhead from Shedd goodnight.

“He doesn’t like it when you yell,” she told me, hugging the animal protectively.

“Tell him I’m sorry.” I brushed her damp hair back from her head. “I had a bad day.”

“Do you need a hug?” she asked. “Frannie says a hug makes a bad day better.”

I nodded, my throat aching. “Yeah. I think I do.”

She sat up and wrapped her arms around my neck. I held her little body close to mine, breathing in her baby shampoo scent and choking back tears. I just wanted to do right by her, by all of them.

But how were you supposed to know for sure what the right thing was? What felt right to me wasn’t necessarily what was best for them.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?





*



Friday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk, my laptop open in front of me, but my eyes weren’t on the screen. I was staring at the photo on my desk that Frannie had taken last summer at the Cloverleigh picnic. Winifred was on my shoulders, her tiny hands in mine, and the other two monkeys were hanging off my upper arms, their feet dangling. I remembered that day so vividly because it was the first day since Carla had left that all three kids seemed entirely happy—no tears, no asking for her, no whining of any kind. For the first time, I saw the possibility that we could be okay. There were still good times to be had.

That day, most of the good times were because of Frannie. She’d thought ahead and had plenty of activities she knew the kids would get excited about—games and crafts and time with the animals. She’d occupied them almost the entire picnic, which had afforded me the opportunity to relax with co-workers and friends. Actually, Cloverleigh had always felt more like a family to me, and Frannie had been a part of that.

Now she was gone, and I missed her terribly. It would get even worse when I hired a new nanny to replace her. I wouldn’t see her at work, I wouldn’t see her at home. The void in my life gnawed at me, a huge, gaping hole—and I’d dug it.

I dropped my forehead onto my fingertips.

“Everything okay?” a deep voice asked.

I looked up and saw John Sawyer in my office doorway. “Oh, hey, John. Come on in.”

He ambled into my office, hitching up his jeans. “It’s nearly five. Why don’t you knock off for the night?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” I shut my laptop and gestured to the chairs across from me. “Have a seat.”

He lowered himself into one of them and exhaled. “I’m on my way out. My wife made me promise I wouldn’t work past five anymore, at least not in the winter.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“She’s got all these ideas about how to spend our winter evenings broadening our horizons and getting healthy. And she’s on me about retirement all the time. Wants to travel more.” He shook his head, ran a hand through his silvery hair. “She’s got Chloe and April on her side now too. They’re all teaming up against me. Trying to boot me out.”

I laughed. “I don’t know about that.”

“It’s true. You’ll see,” he grumbled. “Your daughters grow up and turn against you, Mack. They seem so sweet and innocent one day, holding your hand while they cross the street, and then you blink, and they’re grown, with their own ideas about how to run things and their opinions on everything you’re doing or not doing…” He snapped his fingers. “It happens just like that.”

I could already see it happening with my kids, so I knew he was right. “Yeah. Time moves too quickly.”

Sawyer sighed again. “It sure as hell does. And I suppose you have to make the most of what time you get here. It’s not like you get any kind of guarantee when your number’s gonna be up.”

I looked at him with concern. “Everything okay with your health?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Eh, I’ve got some issues with my blood pressure, and the old ticker is getting a little worn, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”