Page 10 of Protecting My Nanny

It all makes sense now. "We'll see you soon," was the message he'd sent me in his last text, one I thought was innocuous.

He's doing it, and he'll have me right where he wants me.

It's sports day at Jaime's school, and I arrive bright and early, seeing the kids just as they run onto the field and line up with their classes. Each class has a distinct color, Jaime's being lime green. I settle in the bleachers with the other parents, sipping a coffee to combat the morning chill. Shane has promised to make an appearance, even going as far as to tell Jaime directly, though what time and how long has not been made clear.

I watch Jaime shyly stand among his classmates as they talk and strategize about the day's events. He's only been there a few months, and his new kid syndrome is plain to see. I know how he feels; maybe that's why we've bonded so easily.

He keeps mostly to himself as they start the events, but this changes once they get to the relay race. Jaime takes off in a burst of speed for his race. I've never seen him run so fast, and apparently neither has his class. He easily wins the race, and is greeted with cheers and hugs by his team as he returns to their sitting area. I feel pure joy watching him smile as the other children high-five him and slap him on the back. I look around for Shane, but he's not there, and I promise myself I won't do it again. Today is about Jaime. I push Shane from my mind and focus.

Jaime goes on to win the potato sack race after that, and some strange sport where they carry an egg on a spoon. I guess it's an American thing. His bond seems to grow closer with the students each time. A few of them even come to ask him to playwhen the games pause for the picnic lunch with parents. Still no Shane, and I hate myself for thinking of him.

Shane arrives just as they begin the closing games, rushing to my side.

"Hi, sorry," he says.

"Hi," I say. I don't give him the courtesy of any more words.

"How's he doing?"

"You can ask him soon," I say. "There are only two events left." I say it as coldly as I can.

He sighs. "Look, I know I'm—"

"I'm going to the vending machine for a soda," I cut in before walking away from him.

I watch the rest of the events with Shane in silence, using my best efforts to suppress my anger and support Jaime. After the final games, the children all gather with their classes and listen while the principal reads the results over the loudspeaker. Jaime's class wins second place for their grade and jumps for joy at the sight of their large silver trophy. Jaime is ecstatic, and even more so to see his uncle in the crowd afterward.

"Could you just say something to me, please?" Shane pleads. "It's not good that he sees us like this."

My anger hits its limit as I turn to him. "What's not good is him seeing you show up late or just be absent for everything, Shane. Each time you do it, you show him how little he means in your busy schedule."

"I can't—"

"Yeah, you can't get anyone else to cover you. With all the money and people under you, you can't make one event on time." I scoff.

"It's going to get better. I'm just adjusting to—"

"We're all adjusting, Shane. We do it together, but you'd rather throw money and excuses at everything."

"You just don't listen to any—"

He pauses, staring at someone behind me. I instantly know it's Jaime.

Jaime's face crumples, and I see the hurt in his eyes. The anger in me dissolves as guilt floods my chest. Shane looks pained, his eyes softening as he watches his nephew.

"Hey, buddy," Shane says, bending down to Jaime's level. "You did amazing today. I'm so proud of you."

Jaime's lip quivers, and he looks between Shane and me. "Are you two mad at each other?"

I force a smile, pushing aside my anger for Jaime's sake. "No, sweetheart, we're just talking. How about we go out for an early dinner at your favorite restaurant? What do you think, Shane?"

Shane nods, his expression softening. "Yeah, let's go celebrate. How about it, Jaime?"

Jaime's face brightens, and he nods eagerly. "Can we go to the place with the big pizzas?"

"Absolutely," Shane says, standing up and ruffling Jaime's hair.

We drive to Jaime's favorite restaurant, pretending everything is okay. The tension between Shane and me simmers under the surface, but we focus on Jaime, listening to him talk about his team and how fun the sports day was. Despite the anger and frustration, I find myself drawn toward Shane, and I am mad at myself for this.

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