Sam
Halfway through my two-week job, Evie woke up red-eyed and sniffling. She didn’t have a fever, but the cold transformed her usually sunny self into a crabby little sweet pea anyway. I cuddled her on the couch after she ate some pears and cereal for breakfast, not interested in playing or dancing or anything else.
Gil hurried through meetings with his clients and various vendors and the inn people. The wedding would take place in three days. I’d never seen someone so stressed out, but it made sense. He obviously cared about his business a lot, and he’d hinted a few times that it wasn’t doing as well as he’d like. Maybe things were worse than I assumed, though, because I caught himcursing under his breath a few times as he fielded phone calls in the bedroom or tapped away on his laptop at all hours.
Evie reached out for her cat plushie, and I eased her onto the floor. She plopped down, and I managed to grab a tissue before she wiped her nose on the toy. “That’s a good idea, Evie. Give your kitty some love.” I switched on a relaxing music video with cartoon forest animals and picked up my phone. I checked in with Talisha in the childcare service app before opening the text thread with my best friend.
Sam:My charge has a cold. Poor baby. How’s your life?
Chandra:Peter’s sick, too. Making him stay away from me. I can’t afford time off work!
Peter was Chandra’s partner. He co-owned a bodybuilder gym in the city and was a hulking six-foot-three blond. She was a junior corporate attorney, a tiny Indian woman with a sharp tongue and soft heart. They were the unlikeliest yet most perfect couple ever.
Sam:There are some things protein powder and bench presses can’t cure.
Before I could read her response, the cabin door burst open, and Gil stormed through, yanked his beanie off, and clutched at his wild hair. “Damn her to Hell! What the—” His jaw clenched, and his angry eyes shot wide as he looked down at me and then Evie on the rug.
Her little face crumpled, and she began to wail.
“Oh, Evie. I’m so sorry. Daddy’s sorry.” He collapsed onto his knees and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay. Daddy was just mad, but everything’s okay.” His body rocked back and forth as her cries slowly turned to hiccups.
She calmed at last while I sat staring at them both, wishing I could do something to help. The urge to get down on the floor and wrap my arms around both of them battered at my sense of professional propriety.
When Gil lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes were red-rimmed, and tears streaked down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Sam.” He rocked his daughter as her own eyes drifted closed. “I don’t… I… This isn’t your problem. I’m sorry.”
My heart broke for this wonderful man cradling little Evie in his arms. I didn’t know what the problem was, but I wanted to do something to make it better. “What’s wrong, Gil? Please, maybe I can help.”
He sucked in a shaky breath and swiped his hand across his face. “Do you know a good lawyer who works cheap?”
My phone buzzed again on the couch next to me, and I grabbed it. As I tapped out a message to Chandra asking for recommendations for local attorneys, Gil got up and carried Evie into their bedroom. After a few questions from my friend, I got up and followed to see him staring down at her in the pack-and-play.
“What kind of lawyer do you need? Business?”
He shook his head and smoothed out the little yellow blanket. “Family law. Evie’s mother called…” His voice drifted off, and another tear slid down his cheek into his short beard.
It wasn’t my place. I was a hired nanny who would be in their lives for two weeks and then move on again. The thought didn’t sit well with me. I wanted to help, but I didn’t wantto intrude somewhere I wasn’t wanted. I retreated back to the couch and picked up my phone.
Ten minutes later, Gil plodded out of the bedroom, disappeared into the bathroom to splash water on his face, and emerged tense but calm. He got a glass of water from the sink and came to sit next to me. “I’m sorry about that. Truly. That wasn’t appropriate of me to air my family’s…” His voice caught in his throat, and he gulped down more water.
“Giovanni Amato,” I said as I tucked my knee up on the couch and leaned toward Gil. “I texted you his number. He’s a family law attorney in town. Affordable rates. My friend Chandra – she’s a corporate attorney in the city – says he has a great reputation and keeps his costs low.”
His bright amber eyes, red-rimmed and shining, met mine. “Sam, I—”
“I know it’s not my place, but I want to help. I’m…” It was my turn to pause and blow out a gathered breath. “I care about you both. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to but let me help if I can.”
My hands ached to reach out and touch him, pull him into a hug and soothe away some of his obvious stress and sorrow. I wanted to hold him and make it all go away, even though I didn’t know what it was. So unprofessional. So inappropriate, just like he said. Those thoughts didn’t make the desire any less.
Gil met my eyes. “Evie’s mother left right after she was born. We haven’t seen or heard from her since. She contacted me and told me…” A sob caught in his throat, and he gasped as if it choked him. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper. “She told me maybe Evie’s not mine, and that she wants custody. I can’t lose my baby girl.”
As if those words were the dam that held back a vicious flood, Gilbert crumpled and let out a sound of such abject pain that it hurt my heart to hear it. Without another thought, Iwrapped my arms around his shaking shoulders and pulled him against my chest. I held him tightly, fingers stroking through his hair, as I murmured nonsense words and sounds that I hoped would somehow dull his agony.
He sobbed against my shoulder, his tears soaking my shirt, and clutched at me as if he needed something to keep him grounded. Maybe he did. Just the thought of this wonderful father losing his daughter made my own eyes burn.
I shifted on the couch, straightening my leg and easing him more fully against me. Forget professional propriety. I’d do anything it took to make him feel better.
Gil settled between my thighs, curled up against my chest like a lost soul clinging to any hope of comfort. His cries quieted eventually, but his fingers still curled in the blue cotton of my long-sleeved henley. He sucked in a ragged breath and blew it out hot through the thin fabric.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but he didn’t shift away or move out of the circle of my arms.
