Page 136 of Nine Week Nanny
I huff out a laugh. “Exactly. One glass on purpose. I needed to keep my head clear if I’m driving.”
We linger, stretching the night anyway, letting conversation meander until I can tell she’s anxious to get home to get ready for work tomorrow.
Maris squeezes my hand across the cluttered table. “Okay. But next time, no excuses. You’re staying with me. We’ll planit when I don’t have to work the next morning. Slumber party style, just like old times.”
Staying here, watching her get up for a job she loves, would only gut me more. The last thing I need is a front-row seat to someone thriving where I’ve failed.
After we pay the tab, she hugs me tight and leaves with a wave. I told her I needed to use the restroom before I got on the road. The truth is, I just couldn’t walk her out. It was too much.
For a long moment, I stay behind at the table, listening to the scrape of chairs, the low murmur of other diners, and the bartender polishing glasses. All of it muffled, like I’m underwater.
Eventually, I make myself move. Outside, the humid Savannah night presses close, cicadas buzzing in the dark. I climb into my car and shut the door, the thunk echoing in the stillness.
I don’t turn the key. Not yet. I just sit there, scrolling for a podcast, trying to drown out the silence.
The drive will be movement. That’s something. A start.
THIRTY-SIX
Pope
The streetlights of Savannah blur past the tinted windows, dancing across the leather interior in streaks of amber and white. I loosen my tie a fraction, my reflection ghostly in the glass.
"...and the pipeline partnership with the university has generated significant goodwill. Local press coverage has been positive, especially the scholarship component." Lenoir's voice cuts through the SUV's cabin with her usual precision. "These are the key points the Savannah investors will want to hear tonight."
I tap my finger against my knee. "What about the accreditation review?"
"Passed with flying colors. The DOH inspector actually complimented the improvements. First time that's happened in Good Samaritan's history."
A win. Another win in a long line of professional victories that slide off me like rain. I wish I could find the desire to bask in them.
"And Lennon?" My voice drops lower without my permission.
"Val says he's doing well with his reading lessons. He asked if you'd be home for his science fair on Thursday."
The pressure in my chest tightens. "I'll text her."
"Don't forget the jet is leaving early tomorrow morning to head back to Palm Beach."
"I won't. I'm ready to get back. What do I have next week?"
"You've got a full schedule, but no travel. The Memphis meeting will be virtual."
The SUV slows as we approach the restaurant, a renovated warehouse with soft lighting spilling onto the sidewalk. Outside, couples and groups cluster near the entrance, laughing, moving, alive.
"We're pulling into Felix’s now. I'll touch base after dinner via email so you know how it went."
"Pope." Lenoir pauses, her voice losing its professional edge for a moment. "The board is impressed. Everything's stabilizing exactly as you projected with Palm Beach. I think we're through the worst of it."
"Thanks, Lenoir. It wasn't an easy road. Hopefully, soon, I can enjoy the calm."
I end the call and slide my phone into my jacket pocket. The driver navigates toward the entrance, brake lights from departing cars reflecting red against the windshield.
A light-colored RAV4 pulls out from a parking space. The headlights slice across my lap before swinging toward the exit.
My throat tightens before I can stop it. That damn car. Every time I see one, it’s the same drop of my heart, like an irrational thought that it could be her. It's a reflex I still can’t shake, even after all this time.
I force the ache down, exhaling hard through my nose
