Page 11 of Doctor Grump

“Yes,” she said brazenly. “I mapped it out and wrote down the bus lines too. I memorized the bus stops on the route, too, in case I got lost.”

“I see.” It was pretty smart of her to do that, but it only made me even angrier. Somehow, my daughter was clever enough to memorize routes but not wise enough to realize the danger in what she was doing.

“840,000 children go missing every year,” I said. “And most of them never make it back home.”

“I know, Dad,” Kendy said with a sigh, rolling her eyes. “You give me this speech every time.”

“And I wish you would listen for once,” I snapped. “This isn’t a joke, Kendy! You could have been kidnapped or killed or worse!”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” she yelled back. “I don’t have any choice. You won’t take me to see my mother!”

“You can’t see your mom. I don’t know how many times I have to explain it to you. She’s not good for you.”

“She’s a thousand times better than you! And she needs me. If I’m not there, she might…she might…hurt herself.” The last part was said in a quieter tone that struck a chord in me.

I sighed, exhaling and releasing half my anger. I had enough wits to realize that yelling at her would go nowhere. It wasn’t doing anything but feeding the pattern. She would disobey me, and I would get mad and punish her, which would only make her more resentful and more likely to repeat her mistakes. And logically, I knew she wasn’t necessarily doing this for no reason. She was very attached to her mother and had been since birth. That was one of the reasons I never fought for custody, even when I found out about her existence.

So, knowing that, maybe I had to change my approach, perhaps try a gentler and more understanding one.

“It’s not your responsibility to take care of her,” I replied. “Your responsibility is to be a kid and stay safe. To live life. And I want to give you those things, Kendy, I really do. But I can’t do that if you keep running away from me. It scares the shit out of me when you do that.”

I saw the anger in Kendy’s face falter, and guilt took its place. Good. It was working.

“Look, I won’t punish you anymore. And we can discuss going to see your mom when you’re a little older,” I said. “But please promise me you won’t do this again.”

She gave me a look of consideration, then leaned back in her seat. “Fine. But I don’t want a nanny.”

I shook my head. “That’s non-negotiable. You’re only twelve. You need someone to look after you while I’m not at home.”

Kendy opened her mouth, but rather than an immediate denial, she was quiet for a few beats. Then, she piped up, “What about Piper?”

I turned to her, surprise on my face. “What about her?”

“I want her to be my nanny.”

Now it was my turn to pause in surprise. “I don’t think she’s—”

“She said she was looking for a job, and she said she likes kids,” Kendy said. “Why can’t she be my nanny?”

“Because…” I searched for a good enough reason. “I’m not sure she has the experience for it.”

“I don’t care about that. She saved my life. None of the other nannies have done that.” I caught her smile in the mirror. “If I’m going to have a nanny, I want it to be her.”

5

PIPER

“And he just walked off after he said that. The nerve of that man! Can you believe he told me that?” I vented in the coffee shop, feeling the fumes burst out of my ears at the memory. “The gall of that man!”

That last part was said a little louder than I intended, and it drew the attention of a few people in the small coffee shop. I didn’t much care, though. Maybe it was a little of my mother in me or the fact that I knew nearly everyone who walked in through the door. Jay’s Coffee Shop was a frequent venue for me, especially on hot afternoons like this. They made the best and nicest iced lattes in town and had the cutest little grandma running the place. The first time I came in, she gave me a complimentary chocolate fudge ice cream since I reminded her of her daughter. It was such a sweet gesture, and as such, she had gained a client for life.

Another reason I loved Jay’s was that it was close enough to the town square and the mayor’s office that I could drag Santiago—one of my best friends and the current mayor of Gracetown—to get coffee with me every once in a while.

Like today, for example.

“He basically called me a stalker,” I reiterated to Santiago, who was watching me with a vaguely amused expression. “He implied that I ran around town trying to bump into him on purpose and maybe even orchestrated saving his daughter just to get to him. Because I’m that obsessed with him or something. For real!”

“Hey, I don’t know,” Santiago teased. “For someone who is not obsessed with the good doctor, you sure do talk about him an awful lot.”

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