Kenneth
The cell phone on the other end clicks off and I look at my own with a sinking feeling.
God damn it.
I should have expected it.
Kara usually calls in sick after staying over to watch Abbie while I’m away on business. It’s an irritation that I don’t say anything about, because Abbie likes her and finding someone willing to stay over at short notice is hard enough already.
What I didn’t think about is that my back-up Nanny, Martha, is out of state all week.
Which leaves me totally screwed for however long Kara decides she needs to recover. I have to grind my teeth in frustration - looking after my little girl isn’t that exhausting and if she just talked to me in advance about wanting a day or two off the next week…
I resist the urge to call her back and ask if she’s really sick, or whether she might make a miraculous recovery if I offer her a little more money. Something about the idea of that grates with me though. I don’t want her coming in to look after my daughter just because of the money, if I’m going to trust her with Abbie it has to be because of more than that - and I’m already paying her enough that I wonder at times whether she’s taking advantage.
But I don’t have time to look for anyone else, and it’s too hard to introduce Abbie to someone else. She already has enough temporary people in her life as it is.
Not least of which, her own mother.
I stop myself from thinking of that, before I start wishing for something I haven’t had since Abbie was still in diapers - someone to do this with me. Or, if not that, at least someone I could call when it was difficult, who would step up because they care about our daughter as much as I do.
Two Nannies down, I put the phone away with a sigh. I’ve got two big meetings today - one of which is a prospective client I’ve been trying to get in the door for ages, a high end health food shop that would be just perfect for my natural produce snack bars - so I can’t simply announce decide to work from home.
Unfortunately, that only leaves one option…
I walk back into the kitchen and see Abbie still sitting sleepily at the breakfast table, little fists in her eyes as she wipes the sleep dust out of them. The wild mess of hair puffed up behind her head and the slightly stained pajamas she’s wearing immediately tell me I’m not going to make the nine o’clock strategy meeting I had planned, however well this conversation goes.
I send off a quick text to Jessica, telling her to rearrange it before I approach my daughter.
That’s one thing that’s become remarkably easy over the last week - I hadn’t realized how much additional stress and pressure it was putting on me to have someone turn around and ask why all the time, or try to point out how difficult everyone’s schedules and diaries were, when I simply needed to move something.
With Jessica, it just seems to happen.
She really is a good secretary.
That much has become very obvious, even in the short week we’ve worked together. Maybe a little cool and distant about it, but if I’m honest I might even prefer that. I don’t have time to hear the life stories of everyone I’m working with - or the latest gossip about what they got up to over the weekend. Her approach is almost easier - we just talk about everything I need to know and do, and it works.
I make a mental note to send an email to Tyler to thank him - and let him know he got it right this time. I get a burst of amusement as it occurs to me just how lazy I’ve become, as I realize that I can’t send a quick voice message to Jessica to get her to remind me about something like that.
I shake off the thoughts as I crouch beside Abbie’s chair.
“Sweetie…” I say, drawing her attention away from the two horse figures she’s playing with at the table. Waiting for her breakfast, no doubt, which would usually be here right about now with Kara. “Do you want to come see Daddy’s work today?”
I smile at her, trying to make it an attractive proposition, knowing this could go one of two ways. Either she gets excited by the idea of seeing me working and being part of what I do every day when I’m not with her - or she gets grouchy and annoyed at being away from all her toys.
It usually depends on how recently I’ve had to take her in, and how much she remembers of it, but it’s been a while this time, so…
“Yeah!” She grins and I take a small breath of relief as I reach out to ruffle her mess of dark brown hair.
“Great!” I say, trying to match her enthusiasm and not think about all the things I have to do today or how exactly this is going to work. She deserves that, even if it’s hard sometimes. “But you know, sweetie, if you’re going to come into work with me…you have to look professional too.”
I stand up and gesture to my smart-looking suit. “Like Daddy.”
Her face scrunches up as she processes that. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nod, seriously. “So how about I find you some breakfast, and then we go and make you all pretty and presentable for all the people I work with - some nice clothes, hmm?”
Sometimes Kara lets her stay in pajamas a little longer than I’d like, so suggesting actually getting dressed is another area that fluctuates depending on her mood, but she gives me a big smile and nods easily enough. I don’t mention her hair. There’s no way I can do that without all this progress disappearing into a maelstrom of upset.
My little girl can be an angel at times - curious and sweet and full of life and energy - but I’m slowly realizing mornings aren’t really her thing.
I’ll just have to get her dressed and then let her figure out for herself that wild out-of-control hair doesn’t quite fit with the look.
Hopefully.
* * *
We get into work far later than I intended, but with Abbie still smiling at me and asking questions about where I work, so I count the morning as a success. Her hair is even mostly brushed, if you ignore a particularly difficult knot at the back that I decided wasn’t worth ruining her good mood.
I get in before the strategy meeting was due to finish so I don’t have to ask Jessica to postpone anything else - but I’m also aware I don’t have too much time to prepare for a couple of important calls I was supposed to be making this morning.
And I have to keep Abbie happy while I’m doing it. The complications buzz around in my mind and I try not to feel overwhelmed with it all. As wonderful as it is to spend more time with my little girl, I’ve never dealt well with having Abbie here at work with me. The conflict between balancing my daughter and my work is hard enough when I spend time on each sequentially - but with her in the same office as me, it’s impossible to feel like I’m not neglecting her somehow whenever I have to go to a meeting or take a call.
Normally, I’d have my secretary watch her whenever I’m in meetings but…for once, I feel strangely nervous about the idea of that. I’m actually not even sure how I feel about explaining Abbie’s presence to her at all - despite that fact she’s my daughter and it’s not like I haven’t done this before.
I usually don’t think twice about asking for my secretary’s help with her - but Jessica…well, that’s different. And it doesn’t help that she’s also a really good secretary. I’ve always known the others resented it a little when I’d leave Abbie with them - claiming it was a different job entirely and I was expecting them to do two things at once and all of that - despite the way I tried to lower my expectations of them doing any actual secretarial work when I brought Abbie in.
The only part that bothered me about it was that I didn’t want my daughter to be seen - or treated - as an inconvenience. But with Jessica…well, it’s going to suck if she gets pissed off about it and pushes her toward leaving the way all the rest have. I find myself actually wanting to keep her - and her skills - around, in a way I haven’t with any of the others.
Even in this short time, I think I’ve come to rely on her help.
None of that would be so bad - I think I could probably make it up to her - if she wasn’t obviously determined to keep everything on a professional level between us. I’m not sure asking her to look after my daughter is exactly professional - and even though it’s been years, I’m not quite sure what the etiquette is in introducing your ex to a daughter you’ve had with another woman.
By the time I’m riding the elevator up to the floor with my office and trying to find myself entertained by the way Abbie is jumping and giggling at the way the sudden lift makes her stomach feel, I feel more like banging my head against the wall to stop thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.
I’m probably over-thinking it entirely, I know that, but I always do when Abbie is involved.
I take her hand as we step out of the elevator and head towards my office - and I can already see from glimpses through the glass-walled meeting rooms that down the hallway, Jessica is sat right there, as always.
It’s probably cowardly that part of me was hoping we could just go into my office and I could get Abbie set up with a few toys without Jessica ever knowing…until…what? She comes in to give me an update on something, as she usually does at various times throughout the day?
Yeah, great plan, Kenneth.
“Hey.” I call softly, my tone different than it usually is as we approach her desk.
I don’t know whether that’s because of my daughter, or Jessica.
“Kenneth.”
She responds with her usual brisk business-like tone before glancing up at me, no doubt ready to rattle through the list of things on my agenda today, as she usually does in the morning. I’m watching closely, so I see the exact moment she registers Abbie beside me - and her mouth closes abruptly, her eyes widening as her expression shifts.
“This is my daughter, Abbie.” I say, before she has a chance to think or say anything. “Abbie, this is Jessica. She helps me out here.”
“Hello!” Abbie says enthusiastically, bouncing forward a little as she smiles up at Jessica.
“Well…hello there.” Jessica smiles back at her and I blink as I realize I don’t think I’ve seen her smile in the week she’s been working for me. She’s been formal and reserved the whole time.
It changes something about her expression, takes me back to the softness she used to have…
I cut that thought off abruptly. The last thing I need to be thinking about right now is our past.
“I’m working with Daddy today!” Abbie announces eagerly.
If anything, Jessica’s smile widens and she nods seriously.
“That’s good. I think he needs all the help he can get, around here.” Her voice is warm, and I’m surprised at the sudden gratitude I feel for the way she’s indulging my little girl.
That wasn’t what I was expecting. Actually, I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but…well…I didn’t think she’d be pleased to suddenly be confronted by all of this. I’m still not sure she is, of course, but whatever she thinks about it all, at least she’s not making it obvious to Abbie. That’s all that really matters to me.
“I’m good at helping.” Abbie nods back. “Aren’t I, Daddy?”
I’m pulled out of my sudden reverie by the question and have to take a moment to shake it off, pulling my attention back to my daughter as I smile down at her, ruffling her hair a bit.
“Always, baby girl.” I squeeze her hand. “Come on, lets go get you settled into my office with all your toys, huh?”
She nods distractedly, but she’s not really looking at me - her attention is on the smiling woman in front of her. Abbie has been like that for the last few months - fascinated by everyone and everything around her, asking endless questions and just generally making me proud of how curious and outgoing she’s become.
There’s no fear in her. I’m pretty sure when I was a kid, I was pretty shy, but Abbie just walks straight up to people and starts talking.
“We had a mix-up with the Nanny today.” I say to Jessica, as an aside. “So Abbie will be here with me today. Probably best if you just send me an email with your notes for the day.”
“Sure.” She says, but her voice is more contemplative than anything, and she’s still looking at Abbie as I start to coax my daughter into my office.
I don’t stop to find out what she’s thinking - and despite how well that seemed to go, I wonder whether it’s better if I don’t find out at all. There’s something about that expression…about the way she smiles…the way she talked to Abbie…
No. Don’t go there.
Maybe she was right about how to handle working together like this. Purely professional.
Even if I’m still damn curious about what she’s been up to these last ten years.
“Okay, sweetie, shall we find somewhere for you to play?”
I look down at my daughter, slinging the bag I brought with all the things she might need off my shoulder and setting it down to one side of my office.
“I want to help you, Daddy!”
I smile softly. Abbie has always been fascinated by whatever I might be doing. Maybe it’s because I’m raising her by myself, but I worry sometimes about where that sort of single-minded focus is really coming from.
“Well right now, Abbie, you can help me best by showing me what you were playing yesterday, hm? That’s what I want to know.”
“But…” She looks over at the desk with all the documents I didn’t get around to reading yesterday and the computer already started up casting white light over the whole thing - thank you for that Jessica. “Daddy, your work…”
“You’re more important than any of that, sweetie. Will you show me what you were doing yesterday?”
She looks at me, skeptical, and I feel guilty both about that and because despite every part of that being true - my little girl is far more important than my work - I also know that the reason I’m doing this is so that she’ll be content while I do switch my attention to my job.
“Okay then…”
She tips the bag upside down, upending all the contents all over the floor, but I let her despite the mess it makes. Hell, my office is probably too pristine half the time anyway - it’s nice to have something of my daughter about it, too.
She starts mumbling under her breath as she assembles various plastic animals and I try to join in, being interested and asking questions like the parent I want to be, all while trying not to glance at my watch or think about how much time I have left to prep for the next couple of meetings.
It half-works. I think.
Once she’s started to get lost in her game and imagination, I tell her quietly that I might just go and check my computer in case anyone needs me, and I’m relieved when she just mumbles something and waves her hand at me. I try not to be sad that she’s more used to this than she should be, and she probably expects it by now.
But for the moment she’s happy enough with her toys and I breathe a small sigh of relief as I seat myself behind my desk approximately two and a half hours later than I should have done, looking for all the things I might have missed in that time. Judging by the number of emails and missed calls I’ve got, as well as the notes that flash up on my screen every now and then from Jessica - sorted into urgent, important, information and minor lists - that’s quite a lot.
I glance over at Abbie, already wondering how I’m going to manage taking calls in here without disturbing either my daughter’s happy murmurings or the meeting itself. Not to mention what’ll happen for those two major meetings I have later on.
I think again of Jessica sat outside, of the way she talked to and looked at Abbie, and I wonder…
But I shake my head, determined not to ask her. For some reason, that feels like it crosses too many boundaries.
She’s my ex. And a secretary that’s too good to risk losing over something like this.
Abbie. My job. Jessica.
Not for the first time, I wonder which of the plates and priorities I’m juggling today are going to get screwed up by the others.