Page 32 of Free to Fall

“It wasn’t like that,” I protest.

“It was exactly that,” Kalie confirms ruthlessly before softening. “Laura, no one would blame you if you never wanted to return.”

My breathing turns ragged. “I would. I’d blame me.”

“Then why not listen to your therapist. Give this a try. See if being a nanny ...”

I sneer at the word.

“Fine. Call it what you want—does exclusive medically trained home professional sound better?”

“It makes me sound like a hooker.”

“You say potato,” Kalie singsongs.

“I’d say you’d better run.”

Kalie laughs before backtracking with another suggestion. “How about the first nanny educated by Yale University?”

Snorting, I whip out my smart phone and pull up a webpage before flipping it in her direction.

Her jaw drops. “No shit? Yale has a clearinghouse for babysitters and tutors?”

“Yes, they do. So, no, cousin. I don’t even have that distinction since each babysitter and tutor is required to be a Yale student.”

Grace, living up to her name, just says, “How about you just go in with an open mind and determine who and what you want this to be, Laura? Yes, you need to give that little girl everything she needs, but maybe you’ll find you get more out of this than you imagined.”

My heart shudders in relief, tired of beating so hard in my chest. Whether that’s because the synapses in my brain finally capitulated and kicked in to stop panicking or because it’s in agreement with my decision, I don’t know.

I’m just grateful the pain has eased up for now.

Chapter

Fifteen

Ding. Dong.

“Just a minute!” I call out. Turning to Bailey, I deflate at the mutinous set of her expression. “I wish there was some other way.”

“There has to be!”

“If there was, don’t you think I would have tried? Bailey, can’t you give her a shot?”

“I want Mrs. D back,” she wails.

Striving for patience, I crouch down and remind her, “Mrs. Destry’s moving to England to be with her daughter, Buttercup.”

Bailey’s brow furrows. “How far away is England?”

I begin pushing her toward our front door. “Pretty far away, kid.”

“Like how far, Daddy.”

I think about the last time I flew over for a case. “About six hours.”

“We could go see her on the weekends!” Bailey claps her hands together enthusiastically.

I ruffle this morning’s attempt at braids. “By airplane.”

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