Page 57 of Worst Nanny Ever
“Mrs. Applebottom,” I say, delighted. Is he going to give me the inside scoop? Mrs. Applebottom’s Achilles’ heel? I’d love to pass his hot take on to Travis.
A surprised look crosses his face, followed by a smile, which looks even stranger on him. Like suddenly he’s not Eugene Peebles, professional Debbie Downer, but somebody’s grandpa.
“You meanMoira Applebaum, I suppose,” he says. “You’re very lucky. The boy’s in good hands. The best.”
I stare at him in wonder, because I’m picking up on some nonprofessional interest in Mrs. Applebaum. Yup, Ihaveto tell Travis all about this. Instantly. The need to share this information with him practically hums under my skin.
“Did you get it on with Applebaum?” I ask.
“Of course not,” Eugene says, nearly dropping his teacup. “Ijust finished telling you how I feel about inappropriate, unprofessional conduct.”
“But youlikeher.”
He bristles. “I think highly of her ability to run an organized, well-disciplined classroom, yes.”
“I’m starting to think we have different values, Eugene.”
“That much is obvious…” He trails off, looking down at his hands, and when he speaks again, his voice is plaintive. “How do I gain their respect? At Big Catch, I mean. I’m fairly certain Mrs. Applebaum and I have a strong feeling of mutual respect.”
“Oh, Eugene,” I say sadly.
He adjusts his posture before taking another sip of tea. “I didn’t want the employees to dislike me,” he says, and now I hear it, a strain of loneliness threading through his voice, of existing on the outside and looking in. “I knew it would benefit everyone if things were run more efficiently. My hiring manager told me he was going for the ultimate customer experience.”
“You know what they say, buddy,” I tell him. “Happy wife, happy life.”
He scowls at me. “I don’t know what that has to do with the situation.”
“Okay, fine, Mr. Literal. Happy staff, happy customers. If you want the customers to have the ‘ultimate’ experience, then you need to make sure your staff isn’t on the verge of quitting.”
He takes another sip of tea, his features a little crumpled, as if they’re collapsing in on themselves. Then he says, “What would make them happy?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked.” I grin at him. “The answer’s simple. Drinking, flirting, and fornicating. So I’m going to suggest you have a staff party.”
He heaves a heavy sigh, and I can’t help but ask, “Why’d you get into this line of work, Eugene? Shouldn’t you be on a fishing boat somewhere, glowering down at the fish?My dad retired as soon as he hit that sweet six-five. He basically lives at my brother’s restaurant now—as a guest, not an employee.”
Eugene surprises me by serving himself one of the possibly allergy-laden pastries and taking a big bite. From the brief look of pleasure he allows to pass across his face, I can tell he’s not completely a lost cause.
Once that bite of goodness is headed down his gullet, he says, “My son suggested I get a job after I retired from the school. I thought I would enjoy retirement, but there were some…problems.”
“Problems?” I ask, because nosy bitch, reporting for duty.
He takes another bite of the pastry. “I made a schedule, so my days were highly structured, but I got a little…”
My heart suddenly aches for him. “You were lonely.”
“My wife divorced me fifteen years ago, and my son has very little use for me. I’m used to being alone,” he says, with a tone that suggests he’s offended by the very notion that he might have sought out human companionship.
“I’m sure you’re very good at being alone, but no one wants to be totally alone. Why didn’t you join a seniors’ group?”
“I tried,” he says stiffly. “But it was poorly organized, and the leader didn’t appreciate my suggestions for improvement. I was asked to leave.”
I sigh and crack my knuckles, thinking Dottie must be psychic after all, because she completely foresaw what I’m about to say. “I’m going to help you, Eugene.”
“You are?” he asks, surprised.
“I’m afraid I have to. You’ve given me no other choice.”
Just then, Dottie swoops in with a ready smile. “Are we ready to read some fortunes?” she asks, beaming.
