Greydon

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“Marin, wait.”

She stopped, thank God. After that story, she couldn’t just leave me hanging.

“What happened?”

Her head was bent at such an angle that I couldn’t see her expression. “I just told you.”

“No, I’m talking about your job.”

A puff of air hissed out of her. “My boss wanted me to write an expose about a daycare center, only he wanted me to embellish the truth. There was no story. I refused to lie and conjure up something that didn’t exist. I wouldn’t compromise my integrity or ethics, so I resigned.”

“Jesus. Who did you work for?”

“Newsworthy Magazine.”

“Seriously?”

Her blue eyes grew stormy. “No, I just made all that up.”

I flashed her an exasperated look. “Didn’t you have any legal recourse?”

“Did you not listen? I resigned.” She waited expectantly for me to say something but there was nothing for me to add. She shook her head a second and continued. “Yep. Marin McLain. Former writer extraordinaire. You can google me if you’d like. I had larger than life dreams and here I am working as a nanny. Don’t get me wrong. Your kids are awesome. But my goals were aligned much differently from this.”

I had no idea what to say to her other than, “Have you tried to get another job?” When her expression crashed, I quickly added, “Okay, that was a stupid question. Sorry.”

“Everywhere I applied wanted to know why I left Newsworthy. No one leaves a publication like that unless you get a better offer. I had zero references and if I’d said I didn’t see eye to eye with my boss, that instantly labeled me. If I didn’t tell the truth, they would want to call him for a reference. Then where would that have put me? It was a Kobayashi Maru scenario.”

I raised a brow. “And yet you didn’t think like Captain Kirk.”

“What do you mean?”

Gesturing toward the stools, I said, “Take a seat.”

After we were seated, I began. “Kirk beat Kobayashi Maru. Remember?”

“Well, yeah, by reprogramming the computer. How am I supposed to do that?”

“Think outside the box.”

“I’m not following.”

My laptop was on the counter, so I pointed to it. “You can write anywhere, correct?”

“Yep.”

“Then do it. Freelance. Submit your articles to whichever publications will accept them. Prove your talent to the world that way. You have the skills. All you have to do is find the topics people are dying to read about.”

“But most publications only accept articles from their employees.”

“You’re not thinking outside the box.” I tapped my temple. “Start your own publication. Blog. Whatever. More people rely on electronic media anyway. Just do it. Change the rules. What’s your passion? Write when Aaron is napping or on your days off. When the money starts rolling in, to the point you don’t need to be a nanny anymore, give me some notice so I can find your replacement. But whatever you do, don’t stop writing.” I used my finger and pounded the counter for emphasis. She was entirely too young to give up on a career she loved.

Her eyes flicked between the computer and me. “You may have something there.”

“No. I definitely have something here. You’re only twenty-six. That’s entirely too young to give up on something because some jackass wanted you to do something that was unethical. Write about that. Don’t use names or places. Just tell about a hypothetical situation that exists. People love that shit.”

“You think?”

“Yes. I’d read the hell out of something like that. It has mass appeal because it’s happening today and it’s ageless. Find topics like that. Or write about what happened to you today when you dropped Kinsley off. People automatically assumed you were uneducated because you didn’t dress like they did.”

A soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s something I could do.”

“Marin, even if you don’t post it anywhere, just write it. If you stop writing, you become stale. If you become stale, you lose your talent. It’s as if I were to stop practicing medicine. I would lose my skills. You can’t quit.”

Maybe it was the urgency in my tone, but I had her agreeing with me.

“You’re right. I’ll start writing again. Even if it’s just to scratch that itch.”

“Exactly. And now, I need to scratch the itch to get some sleep.”

“Me too. I promise to set my alarm tonight. Sorry you had to wake me this morning.”

I clicked my fingers. “Oh, a couple of things. I like to say goodbye to Kinsley before she leaves, so if I’m not down from my shower, send her up to my room. And can you make sure the gate in the driveway is kept closed? Even though this is a gated community, I like that extra safety measure for the kids.”

I turned to leave when I heard, “Dr. West?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She stood there smiling and it was the first time I paid close attention to her. She was pretty in a disarrayed fashion. Her crazy messed up hair and the rest of her was completely unconventional, but it somehow worked.

A couple of weeks later, I was in the process of shoving some lunch down my throat when Josh came into the break room.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Not too bad today. You?”

“Same. Hey, my sister wants to know if you’re dating anyone.”

I almost choked on my salad. “Um, what?”

“Yeah, sorry. She needs a date for this wedding she was invited to. She doesn’t know anyone to ask and thought about you.”

“Oh.” I relaxed. “For a minute there I thought she was hitting on me.”

An awkward laugh chuffed out of him. “Uh, no. That would be rude.”

“No, I’m not dating anyone. And I’d be happy to be her fake date as long as I’m not on call and my nanny can sit that night.”

“I’ll have her call you.”

Later that day, my phone vibrated while I was with a patient. When I had a chance to check it, I saw a voicemail and call from a number I wasn’t familiar with. The message was from Deanna, Josh’s sister. I called back when I was done for the day.

The wedding was on Saturday and I explained that I needed to check with Marin first.

When I walked into the house, Marin and Kinsley were singing “Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro?” I chuckled. Kinsley was practically screaming the words at the top of her lungs. I peeked into the living area and they were both doing a performance for Aaron. He sat in his swing with a goofy grin spread across his face as their animated gestures entertained him. The song was over in a flash, and he kicked his legs out whereby Kinsley proclaimed, “I think he wants to dance.”

“He can’t dance. He can’t even walk properly. Look at him.” Marin had taken Aaron out of his swing and he was running around, teetering this way and that, like a sailboat with a broken rudder.

“How do you know, Marnie? You haven’t let him try to dance.”

“I know. How can he dance when he can barely stand up straight? How do you suppose he’ll be able to tap out a tune?”

“Maybe he’s got magic dancing legs. Look at how they kick out when he runs. Maybe they’re special.”

“They’re special all right. He’s going to be a punter for a football team.”

“What’s a punner?”

“A punter, not a punner.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s someone who can kick a football really well.”

“Nope. He’s gonna be a dancer. See? Look at how his legs cross.” Right about then, Aaron crash landed on his ass.

“Uh huh. I don’t think that’ll work too well in a dance,” Marin said.

I swallowed a laugh so they didn’t hear me. The two of them always had these comical interchanges between them.

“What kind of dancer anyway?” Marin asked.

“An Irish dancer. Like those kind that wear those clicky shoes.” Then Kinsley took off and did her best imitation of an Irish step dancer. She looked like she was having some sort of seizure, the way her arms were so stiff and her legs kicked out at awkward angles until she caught sight of me. “Daddy!” She flew into my arms, Irish step dancing forgotten.

“How’s my polka dot today?” I kissed her as I hugged her to me before setting her back down.

“Good. Aaron says he wants to be a dancer.”

“He does?”

“Yeah. One that wears those clicky shoes.”

“And he told you that?”

She nodded so fast, I got whiplash watching her. “But Marnie says he’s gonna be a ball punner.”

“Punter,” Marin corrected.

“Polka dot, when did Aaron start talking?” I asked.

“He told me in my ear.”

“Hmm. I see. And are you sure he can do it?”

“Uh huh. Watch his legs move.”

“Oh, they can move all right. Hey Marin, I know you’re not supposed to work Saturday night, but can I ask a favor? I need a sitter. Would you mind?”

Kinsley jumped up and down and Aaron let out a giggle.

“Uh, no, I guess that would be fine.”

“Great. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Kinsley tore around the room like her hair was on fire. “Yay, Marnie’s spending the night. Marnie’s spending the night.”

Marin chased her and grabbed her around the waist. “You little goofball. I spend every night here.” Then she tickled her as Kinsley giggled something fierce. She eventually broke free yelling, “Daddy save me from the tickle toad.”

“The tickle toad?”

“Yeah, that’s what Marnie turns into when she tickles us.”

“Is that right?”

Kinsley grabbed my leg and asked, “Daddy, are you going to a birthday party?”

“No, polka dot. I’m going to a wedding.”

“A wedding?” Kinsley asked.

“Yes, it’s a big party after someone gets married. You’ve been to one before, but you were a lot younger and don’t remember.”

“Oh. Who’s getting a wedding?”

I smiled at her use of words. “Just a friend.”

That must’ve satisfied her because she skipped away and went back to tickle Aaron. I turned to leave but caught Marin staring at me. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so I left. But the way her eyes drilled through me left me unsettled. I had work to do so I brushed it off. Once I finished my computer work, I went into the kitchen to find Marin feeding the kids. She rushed around telling Kinsley to hurry and finish.

“Why the rush?” I asked.

“It’s my school program, Daddy. Aren’t you coming to watch me sing?”

Marin’s lips pinched together and her damning eyes told me more than I needed to know.

“I’m sorry, honey, I can’t.”

“But Daddy, I’m singing the spider song all by myself. And I practiced real hard to be good.”

Fuck. I promised I’d meet Deanna for a quick drink tonight. The last thing I wanted to do was to take her to a wedding without the benefit of meeting her first.

I patted her head. “Polka dot, you’re going to be fantastic. The best one there.” I didn’t risk a glance at Marin. She’d already scolded me with her scorching glare. And Kinsley’s crushed expression was making me feel like a complete asshole.

“Come on, Kinsley, let’s get your party dress on,” Marin said.

“Party dress?” I asked.

She looked at Kinsley and said, “Um, yeah. You’re gonna rock that spider something crazy, girly.” She grabbed Kinsley’s hand and said to me, “You wouldn’t mind watching Aaron for a minute, would you?” Her tone was icy and carried more than a hint of reproach.

“No, that’s fine.” I checked my watch. I hope she didn’t take long.

Over her shoulder, she asked, “Oh, and would it be too much trouble to change him for me?”

Christ, she made me feel like utter shit. It was deserved for missing my daughter’s show. I took Aaron upstairs and changed him. When I had him freshly diapered, she walked into the room and picked him up. Without so much as a word, she gathered his things, put them in his bag while she held him as I stood by feeling like a jerk, probably because I was. Then she marched out and called for Kinsley. I didn’t have the heart to walk out with them. Or maybe it was the lack of balls. Wasn’t that something? The nanny made me feel two feet tall.

My meeting with Deanna was a waste. This wedding thing was nothing but a front. She was hitting on me from the moment I sat down and I almost told her to forget the whole thing, but then I’d have to face Josh. She wrangled a dinner out of me and by the time I got home I was beat—mentally and physically.

Walking into the kitchen, I almost jumped when I saw Marin seated at the table.

“Have a good time tonight?” she asked.

“Jesus. Don’t do that.”

“Let me tell you something you need not do. Don’t disappoint your kids and leave them hanging. Your daughter waits for you to come home every single day. And then you pay her very little attention. This school program was very important to her. Was it asking that much to attend? And your son. You act like he’s not even here most of the time. Start acting like a father before they forget who their father is.” Placing both palms flat on the table, she pushed herself to her feet and then walked past me and went upstairs.

And didn’t that just make me feel shittier than I already did?