Page 124 of Give & Take
“What about the day we defrosted the freezer?” I ask.
“Ugh that day sucked. It was so much work,” Nova says.
“But she was happy, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah she was so happy!” Nova says, cake crumbs arcing from her mouth.
I look at the girls with a level of affection I don’t think I’ve ever reached before, and I fucking love these kids.
My hands are kind of sweaty.
“Are you okay?” Nova asks, seeing me wipe them on my jeans.
“Totally,” I say. “Although I have to ask you guys something.”
“If we want to go to the trampoline park tomorrow?” Aurora asks, face lighting up.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Nova reminds her sister. “Raph doesn’t work on Saturdays.”
“But he’s been hanging out with us every weekend!”
I rub my chest. No better segue, I guess.
“What I wanted to ask you guys is…and this is hypothetical. Do you know what that means?”
“You told us lots of times,” Aurora says. “Whenever we talk about questions with no answers.”
Right, one of our favorite games—talking aboutphilosophical quandaries while we walk to the beach or drive places in the car. Did I already say I love these kids?
“Right,” I say. “Okay, so you know how I’m your nanny just for the summer?”
Aurora nods sadly, “And the summer’s almost over.”
“There are two weeks left,” I remind her.
Nova’s looking at me suspiciously.
“Hypothetically, how would you feel if I…didn’t leave at the end of the summer?”
Aurora’s jaw drops and she jumps off her bar stool, nearly tumbling to the ground. I catch her by the back of the shirt.
“It’s hypa-thetical,” Nova says, sounding annoyed. “That means it’s not real.”
As I set Aurora down, I look over at Lana’s older girl. At who I’ve come to feel is likeourolder girl. Nova misses nothing. She may be a little crabby, sure, but that’s because she worries about things all the time. What could possibly go wrong? What she can control to try to make nothing go wrong. She’s whip-smart, and has a huge heart under that crusty exterior.
But right now, the crusty exterior is looming large. Her little fists are curled on the counter, almost as if she’s angry.
“You’re not staying,” she says. “So why would you even ask us that?”
My chest hurts. That’s the thing—as much as I want to, I don’t know if I’m staying. Not because I don’t want to—I’m setting everything in my life up so I can. But because I don’t know if I can convince Lana it’s the best thing for us.
Even though I’m going to die trying. Or at least never give up. It’ll be a war of attrition.
Until she tells me to stop.
“Nova,” I say, pulling a clinging Aurora up and onto her stool again. “And Aurora.” I look at them both. “This summer has been the best summer of my whole life.”
“Mine too!” Aurora says excitedly, not picking up on Nova’s tenseness.
