Page 15 of Architect's Christmas Nanny

“Hi,” Josie said plainly.

Brad could only blink at her in surprise. Josie was always warm and polite. And Principal Tucker was so friendly and looked so nice in her lavender suit.

“Why don’t we come inside?” the principal suggested. “We’ve been expecting you, Josephine. Two other fourthgraders are in the lobby right now, waiting to take you to class and answer any questions you might have. And I’d like to talk with your dad for a few minutes.”

Josie nodded without answering and Brad swallowed the urge to scold her. She was nervous. That had to be it.

Though he doubted it. Josie had never been one to shy away from new people and experiences.

Principal Tucker opened the front door, and they headed inside together. Instantly, Brad was transported back to childhood. He smiled when he saw that the layout was the same, and children’s artwork still lined the walls.

Two kids, a girl and a boy, were waiting by the office door.

“Hi, Josie, I’m Martin,” the boy said.

“And I’m Penny,” the girl added. “Do you want to see our classroom and meet the teacher?”

“I guess,” Josie said in a bored way.

Penny’s eyebrows shot up, but she nodded, and then she and Martin headed down the hall with Josie following, as stalwart as a soldier heading into enemy territory.

Brad’s heart ached that she hadn’t even turned to wave to him.

“Big day for her,” Principal Tucker said. “Why don’t you come into my office, and we’ll catch up?”

He followed her through the reception area and into her office.

The small space was a cozy jumble of photos and student artwork on the walls, but the desk was perfectly tidy and organized, with a sleek laptop, a small pad with a pen beside it, and a framed needlepoint that read

Do your little bit of good where you are; it is those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.

- Desmond Tutu

Brad smiled at the familiar sight. The background fabric was a little yellowed, and the stitches had faded since his time at the school, but it was comforting to see the principal still lived by the same motto.

“My mother made it for me when I told her I wanted to teach,” she said fondly now, gazing down at it herself. “It’s a wonderful reminder of why I’m here every day.”

“I’m worried about Josie,” Brad heard himself say suddenly.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she replied. “But this is a big change for her. It may take time for her to adjust.”

“She spent the holidays here last year,” he said, wondering how it was that this older lady was so easy to talk with when he still saw her as an authority figure. “She loved it—hasn’t stopped talking about it since. And she was so excited when I first told her we were moving, but then something changed. I guess actually leaving the only home she’s ever known is hard.”

“I understand her mother isn’t in the picture,” the principal said without a hint of judgement in her voice. “Is there anyone else important she’s leaving behind?”

“Jillian,” he heard himself say reverently.

“A friend?” the principal wanted to know.

“Jillian has been her nanny since she was a tiny baby,” Brad said. “She wanted to be a writer and she basically sidelined her own dreams to rescue us. We obviouslyadore her, but we can’t hold her back anymore. It wouldn’t be right.”

Why am I telling her all this?

“I see,” Principal Tucker said, nodding. “Did she have a chance to say a proper goodbye? Closure is very important in such a special relationship.”

“She actually came here with us,” Brad said. “Josie was so heartbroken that Jillian offered to spend one last Christmas with us, so they could do all their traditions one last time.”

“She sounds like a very special person,” Principal Tucker said approvingly.

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