Page 12 of Protecting My Nanny

"Alright," I agree, "you pick the brand. You probably know more about her preferences than I do, at this point."

"That's a great idea, sir. Perhaps we should also include an apology with the gift card," Kristen suggests.

"Uh, yeah," I stumble over my words, "just make sure it says, 'I'm sorry for taking up your morning and missing another of Jaime's events.' And please arrange for it to be sent over sometime today."

"Sure, sir. Do you want me to send it here so you can give it to her in person?"

"No..." I look at Kristen's face. She wears a stern look, indicating that it wasn't a request. I exhale deeply. "You're right, I'll give it to her myself."

"Sure thing, sir. So you won't be needing the apology letter?"

"No, I'll tell her myself."

"Very good, sir, but you should plan what you want to say," says Kristen. She turns to leave the office.

"And Kristen," I call out. "Contact Oliver and ask if he's free to assist me on this investor meeting."

"Yes, very well, Shane." This time, she smiles.

"Thank you, Kristen."

"It's what you pay me for, sir."

It takes everything in me to stay composed and focused as we discuss financial forecasts, market analyses, and strategic plans for the next quarter. Several investors join the call, each with inquiries and questions. While maintaining an engaged demeanor, my mind wanders to Jaime and Nicole. Asking Oliver to take the lead turns out to be the best decision I made this morning. He presents our projections clearly, addresses investors' concerns calmly, and even injects some enthusiasm into the room. He has the charm and quick wit of someone who has been doing this much longer than the five years he's worked for me. With me mentally checking in and out, I owe the success of the meeting to him.

The investors leave the call individually until the video conference screen is blank.

I sigh and turn to Oliver, who looks up from his laptop just opposite me at my desk.

"That deserves applause, Oliver," I say to him. "And a drink." I reach into my desk and pull out an aged bourbon I keep for only special occasions, along with two glasses.

"Thank you, Mr. Matthews, really... but I probably shouldn't. I've got to get back down and..."

"Really? I was planning to give you the rest of the day off. If you'd like it?"

"Yeah. And... I'll definitely take that drink."

I give him a smile, then open the bottle and pour a double shot into both glasses. The rich aroma of aged bourbon fills the room, adding a touch of warmth to the moment.

"Pardon my asking, but is everything okay, Mr. Matthews? You seemed a bit distracted today."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah. I guess you noticed. I've recently become a parent... guardian... whatever you want to call it. And I'm learning that while I'm good at business, I've still got a lot to learn about children... and women, I guess. You were my hero today, Oliver." I hold my glass up in the air. Oliver grasps his and taps it to mine with a clink. "Your efforts won't go unnoticed. You can expect to be hearing from me again soon."

Oliver smiles, taking a sip of the bourbon. "Thank you, Mr. Matthews. But honestly, you should thank yourself. I've learned everything from watching you."

"Really? All that from watching me?"

"Yes, sir," Oliver assures me. "I always prepare for the big meetings by looking back at some of your past conference videos and speeches. There's always wisdom to be found in them."

"Well, that is surprising. It's good to know I'm doing some good in the world, I guess."

"The past holds a lot of wisdom," Oliver continues as he sips at his bourbon. "When I want to know how to be a good husband, I think of my uncle. My father wasn't around much. And when I want to think about being a good parent, I think of my mom or watch old family videos. Most of the guidance you need in life has already been given to you. Even if it's through doing the opposite of a bad example, you just need to open your eyes, look back, and remember it," Oliver says, finishing his bourbon.

I share a final drink with Oliver and thank him before he happily leaves the office for the day. I sit alone for a while, gazing out the window toward the mountains peeking out over the city's southern edge. There is a place there, a place I haven't been for some time, and if I really want to take a look back in time, it's where I need to go.

The old house at 26 Maudry Lane hasn't changed much since I last saw it. It doesn't look like it's aged at all; in fact, it looks newer. The front exterior is half-painted, with a fresh coat of white stretching from the left corner to just past the door. Clairecould have afforded a professional, but she was always the type to do things herself. I pull the key from my pocket, the one I've been holding on to since the funeral. I walk up the three steps and onto the porch. The old swing we used to sit on has been replaced by something more modern, but a swing all the same. I remember Claire and I sitting in it in the summertime as kids, eating watermelon and challenging each other to see who could spit the seeds the farthest.

Inside, most of the furniture is new but familiar at the same time. Where the old grey couch with black pillows was, a new, larger one made of fine leather sits, the colors almost exactly the same. The dining table is the same, though it's been sanded and polished to a shine, and new cushioned chairs have replaced the old hard ones we sat on as children. I hear echoes of our voices talking about our days as the nanny served us dinner, and I see Claire standing over my shoulder, helping me with my homework. Mom and Dad were always busy, always handling business, but Claire was always there. I remember how hard it was on her, how she vowed never to treat her children that way, and I vowed never to have any.

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