Page 43 of A Whole New Play

I shake my head, smiling at the quick greeting and abrupt question. “Sure.” I glance at my smart watch and note the time. I’m tired, both mentally and physically. It seems like the perfect day for a frozen meal. “How does lasagna sound?”

“Great!” Andy and Abby answer simultaneously.

Abby turns to Valerie. “Will you stay for dinner?”

The nanny freezes from where she is bending over to pick up a couch cushion. “Oh.” She straightens. “Um. I don’t know. Your dad might just want to eat with you guys.”

Before I can assure her that she’s more than welcome to join us, the twins both moan in disappointment.

“But we don’t want you to go,” Andy whines.

“Dad, can Valerie stay for dinner? Please?” Abby clasps her hands together and gazes up at me with big beautiful eyes that are impossible to say no to, even if I wanted to.

But luckily for all of the Joneses in this house, that’s the last thing I want to do.

I had a shitty afternoon and there’s a good chance tomorrow won’t be much better. I’m going to have to endure the repercussions of Laura’s decision to share our private business for the foreseeable future. It’s going to be rough. But something tells me an evening spent in Valerie’s company will do more to turn my mood around than being alone will.

“Absolutely,” I answer, but in case Valerie doesn’t want to spend her evening off here, I add, “As long as Valerie doesn’t have anything else to do, I hope she does stay.”

The black-haired beauty chews on her bottom lip. I force myself not to imagine those teeth nibbling something else.

Valerie’s eyes dart away when they meet mine, and she looks between the twins. Andy rushes to her side and grabs her hand between his. Bouncing on his toes, he begs, “Please, Valerie. Will you stay for dinner?”

“Yeah.” Abby appears at her other side and grabs her other hand. “Please, Valerie.”

Valerie huffs an amused chuckle. “Sure.” She squeezes both of their hands and then looks back at me. My heart flips in my chest when I take in her beautiful smile. “I’ll stay.”

After the four of us demolish the eight-by-ten pan of frozen lasagna warmed up in the oven, Abby convinces everyone to play a round of Go Fish. One round turns into four. After we finish, Andy insists we play the match game with the cards. The hours fly by, and Valerie ends up staying much longer than expected.

I appreciate it when she offers to help me put the twins to bed, but I feel guilty. She’s been with the kids for hours at this point. I’ll need to try and figure out when I can offer her an extra day off. My schedule is chaotic now that the season has started, but I’ll find a way to make this up to her.

She’s been spending a lot of time with the twins, and I know all too well how tiring that can be. Abby and Andy are great, but they’re still kids. And kids take a lot out of you.

As I kiss Andy’s forehead goodnight, I decide I’m going to insist on paying Valerie for the entire afternoon and evening. She’ll try to refuse, but I won’t let her. Paying her for her time is the least I can do.

I close Andy’s bedroom door and look across the loft to see Abby’s is already closed. She’d asked Valerie to be the one to tuck her in, and while I felt a little flicker of disappointment at being replaced, I didn’t argue. I’d hoped I’d be able to sneak in to say goodnight, but it’s just one night. I can resume our nightly ritual tomorrow.

I walk downstairs to find Valerie in the living room, putting the cushions back on the couch.

“You don’t need to do that.” I cross the room and pick up the next cushion before she can.

“I don’t mind.” She places the decorative pillows back in their spot on either end of the couch. “We made a mess while playing. It’s only right I clean it up.”

“Trust me, you’ve done more than enough for the day.” I reassemble the armchair and snatch the throw blanket off the ground to fold.

“I was happy to help.” She sounds sincere. She clears her throat delicately, then adds, “Did… um… did everything turn out okay today?”

“Not really.” I hadn’t given Valerie details about what was going on other than what I shared in our text. She hadn’t asked, and I didn’t offer.

Now, I feel compelled to explain why I asked for her help on her day off—if only to reassure her that it was an extenuating circumstance and not something I’ll do again.

God willing.

“Laura went to the press about our custody case.”

Her jaw falls. “What? Why?”

I shrug. “My best guess? She thought damaging my reputation would help her reclaim full custody.”

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