What if we have the best time ever?
The thought of being able to make out with Rhett again—
“Yeah,” I say. “But wait, who’s gonna watch Liam?”
“I’ll have my mom come over. She can meet him, and we can put him to bed together. That way, we won’t interrupt his routine.”
I flatten my palm against his chest. “Can we go somewhere a little off the beaten path? Just in case—”
“Of course. Actually . . .”
“What?”
He grins, rubbing his hands together. “Nothing. I have an idea. Pick you up at seven thirty?”
“Okay.” I blink. “Should I wear anything special?”
“Whatever’s comfortable. And cool. We’ll be outside.”
Of course we will. Because I love any excuse to head outdoors, and Rhett knows it.
“We-wa now!”
My turn to laugh. “Enjoy your workout, all right?”
“Pssshh,” Rhett says, rolling his eyes. “But I am gonna enjoy thinking about you without feeling like a scumbag. I really wanna kiss you again, A.”
“And your son really wants not to go down for his nap.”
“Tonight.” His eyes burn. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”
Nuria calls me a little later when Liam is finally asleep.
“Thanks for reaching out,” I say, stomach clenching. “How’re things looking over there?”
“Your car’s been towed, but the parking lot still hasn’t been cleaned up, so that’s been a bit of an ugly reminder of the whole thing. Kids seem to be okay, though. They miss you.”
I look up at the ceiling. “I miss them too. They do a good job of singing happy birthday to Monique yesterday?”
“They sure did. Her dads brought in cookies and balloons for everyone. It was sweet.” Nuria lets out a breath. “How are you? I’ve been thinking about you, Amelia. A lot.”
A lump forms in my throat at her kindness. I swallow it.
“I’m better. The job is good. The little guy I’m nannying is a sweetheart.”
“Glad to hear it. Think you’d want to do it in the long-term?”
Her unspoken question: What are you going to do if you can’t come back here? Because it doesn’t look like that’s a possibility yet. Or maybe ever.
The implication stings. But it stings a lot less than it did two weeks ago. I haven’t stopped turning over Grandma Rose’s words of wisdom inside my head, and I think they’re starting to stick.
That doesn’t mean I’m over the death of that particular dream yet. I still have no idea what dream is going to replace it. I’m trusting the universe to keep me safe during this (not so?) awful in-between period, and while it’s been liberating in many ways, it’s also terrifying.
“I miss being around people too much,” I say. “No offense to nannies because this job is important. Rewarding too, and a lot of fun sometimes. It’s just not for me.”
Nuria sighs. “Amelia, my heart breaks for you. I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“I am too.”
“The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced you were seriously, seriously wronged here. Losing your job because a man lied about being married? And his wife doing that to your car? That’s just . . .”
“Insane?” I say, tongue in cheek. But I secretly mean it. Who torches a car?
“Well, yes. That too. Apparently, Jim and his wife split again. Or so I’ve heard.”
I wait for my stomach to clench again, but nothing happens.
Not a damn thing moves or leaps or falls inside me at the mention of Jim, and despite the lump in my throat, I smile.
Being kissed by Rhett Beauregard must’ve confirmed my growing suspicion—Jim wasn’t the one.
Which begs the question, what if Rhett is?
“I feel terrible for their kids,” I say.
“We all do. But I feel terrible for you too. We removed Jim from the board, and his wife—ex-wife—whatever—she’s not allowed on school property.”
I scoff. Swallow. “Probably for the best.”
“No kidding. I wish we could do more—”
“I’m not going to press charges.”
A pause. “You’d be well within your rights, Amelia.”
“I know. And I’ve thought about it, believe me. But at the end of the day, I just want to put it behind me. I have a good thing going here, and revisiting all that . . . it feels like a step backward. I don’t want to drag Woodward’s name through the mud.”
“Okay.” Nuria sighs. Her relief is palpable through the phone. “Thank you.” Another pause. This one is longer. “Listen, Amelia. As much as I hate to say it, we’re nowhere near to bringing you back on board. I tried to broach the subject with a board member I’m friendly with this morning, but I was immediately shut down. I’m trying my best, but . . . I’m sorry. I keep saying that—”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Well, it’s not okay, but I’m working through it. Or trying to, anyway.”
“Hang in there, all right? And stay in touch. I’ll reach out if anything’s changed.”