“How’d everything go at the new job?” I asked.

“Fine.” She tugged on her boots and put on her coat.

“Are you liking it?”

“Mmhm.” She freed her hair from the back of her coat and zipped it up. “See you tomorrow.”

“Frannie, wait.”

She froze with her back to me, one hand on the door.

“I hate this,” I said quietly.

“Me too. If you want to hire someone else to watch the girls, I’ll understand.”

I swallowed hard. “They’d miss you.”

“I’ll miss them too.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t even sure you’d show up today.”

“It was hard, but …” She glanced back at me. “I came for them.”

I nodded slowly. “Can you come one more time? Tomorrow? I’ll start looking for a replacement for next week.”

“Of course.” She paused. “I can tell them it’s because of my new job at the coffee shop. That way they aren’t confused or … hurt.”

She was still putting them first. It gutted me. “I’ll handle it. You don’t have to tell them anything.”

She left without saying goodbye.

That evening was a repeat performance of Tuesday, except I made Millie cry, I sent Felicity to her room, and Winnie didn’t even want me to kiss Ned the Hammerhead from Shedd goodnight.

“He doesn’t like it when you yell,” she told me, hugging the animal protectively.

“Tell him I’m sorry.” I brushed her damp hair back from her head. “I had a bad day.”

“Do you need a hug?” she asked. “Frannie says a hug makes a bad day better.”

I nodded, my throat aching. “Yeah. I think I do.”

She sat up and wrapped her arms around my neck. I held her little body close to mine, breathing in her baby shampoo scent and choking back tears. I just wanted to do right by her, by all of them.

But how were you supposed to know for sure what the right thing was? What felt right to me wasn’t necessarily what was best for them.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Friday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk, my laptop open in front of me, but my eyes weren’t on the screen. I was staring at the photo on my desk that Frannie had taken last summer at the Cloverleigh picnic. Winifred was on my shoulders, her tiny hands in mine, and the other two monkeys were hanging off my upper arms, their feet dangling. I remembered that day so vividly because it was the first day since Carla had left that all three kids seemed entirely happy—no tears, no asking for her, no whining of any kind. For the first time, I saw the possibility that we could be okay. There were still good times to be had.

That day, most of the good times were because of Frannie. She’d thought ahead and had plenty of activities she knew the kids would get excited about—games and crafts and time with the animals. She’d occupied them almost the entire picnic, which had afforded me the opportunity to relax with co-workers and friends. Actually, Cloverleigh had always felt more like a family to me, and Frannie had been a part of that.

Now she was gone, and I missed her terribly. It would get even worse when I hired a new nanny to replace her. I wouldn’t see her at work, I wouldn’t see her at home. The void in my life gnawed at me, a huge, gaping hole—and I’d dug it.

I dropped my forehead onto my fingertips.

“Everything okay?” a deep voice asked.

I looked up and saw John Sawyer in my office doorway. “Oh, hey, John. Come on in.”

He ambled into my office, hitching up his jeans. “It’s nearly five. Why don’t you knock off for the night?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” I shut my laptop and gestured to the chairs across from me. “Have a seat.”

He lowered himself into one of them and exhaled. “I’m on my way out. My wife made me promise I wouldn’t work past five anymore, at least not in the winter.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“She’s got all these ideas about how to spend our winter evenings broadening our horizons and getting healthy. And she’s on me about retirement all the time. Wants to travel more.” He shook his head, ran a hand through his silvery hair. “She’s got Chloe and April on her side now too. They’re all teaming up against me. Trying to boot me out.”

I laughed. “I don’t know about that.”

“It’s true. You’ll see,” he grumbled. “Your daughters grow up and turn against you, Mack. They seem so sweet and innocent one day, holding your hand while they cross the street, and then you blink, and they’re grown, with their own ideas about how to run things and their opinions on everything you’re doing or not doing…” He snapped his fingers. “It happens just like that.”

I could already see it happening with my kids, so I knew he was right. “Yeah. Time moves too quickly.”

Sawyer sighed again. “It sure as hell does. And I suppose you have to make the most of what time you get here. It’s not like you get any kind of guarantee when your number’s gonna be up.”

I looked at him with concern. “Everything okay with your health?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Eh, I’ve got some issues with my blood pressure, and the old ticker is getting a little worn, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“That’s good.”

He looked around my office, and the silence grew slightly uncomfortable. Did he know about Frannie and me? Did he know it was over? I felt like I owed him an apology, like I’d taken advantage of his trust and generosity. I was trying to think of a way to get it off my chest when he spoke again.

“You know, Mack, you’re family to us.” He picked up the photo of me and the girls I’d been looking at earlier and took it in his lap.

I felt his kind words like a kick in the gut. “Thank you, sir.”

“And I hope you know that you’ll always be welcome here.”

“Thank you. I’m …” I cleared my throat. “I’m very glad to be a part of this team.”

He looked up at me. “It’s more than a team.”

I nodded. My throat was too dry to speak.

Setting the photo back on the desk, he said, “I never had any sons, and my son-in-law isn’t around here very often, so if you’d ever like to go fishing or hunting or anything, you let me know. If I am going to slow down some, I’m gonna have some time on my hands. I’d like to fill it doing things I enjoy, spending time with people I care about.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I attempted to smile, but I felt like shit. I didn’t deserve his kindness after what I’d done to Frannie. I didn’t deserve to have him refer to me as family or offer to go fishing with me or think of me as a surrogate son. Had that been his way of telling me he was okay with a relationship between me and his daughter? Dammit, I didn’t deserve that either! I almost wished he’d come at me red-faced and angry, railing about how I couldn’t treat her like that and get away with it. I wished he’d thrown a punch.

I arrived home on edge, and Frannie barely looked at me before hugging the kids goodbye and disappearing into the back hall to put on her boots and coat. Again, I followed her.