I nod. “Glasgow, specifically. The firm’s eyeing expansion. They want someone to lead the inquiry team.”
Chelsea’s watchful as the other two process the information. She hasn’t moved from the threshold. She’s still holding her juice, but she hasn’t taken a single sip.
Widget pulls away from me just enough to look up. “Where’s Scotland?” she asks, frowning like she’s just been told I’m flying to the moon.
“Still in the UK,” I tell her gently. “But it’s a bit far. Six hours, give or take.”
She gasps. “That’s forever!”
I smile despite myself, brushing her tight curls behind her ear. “Feels like it.”
I glance over at Amerie. “Which is why I’ve been thinking… I’d like you to come. You and the kids. Not for the full three weeks necessarily, but for a good stretch of it. Until Widget’s Easter break is over at least. I want the family with me.”
Amerie blinks, as if she wasn’t expecting that. “You do?”
“Yeah. If I’ve got to go,” I say, “I don’t want to be away from you. Any of you.”
Widget squeals in delight. “Can we go on a train?! I want to see castles!”
Amerie softens visibly, laughing as she leans forward to wrap her arms around us both. “I didn’t plan on a spring vacation in the middle of my deadline, but okay… so long as we’ll be together—and I’ll still get some time to write.”
“You will, love. I’ll make sure of it,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head.
For a moment, it’s perfect—my little girl bouncing with excitement, my wife pressed close, all of us tangled up in a moment of joy.
Then Widget turns her head and says, “Chelsea, aren’t you excited too?”
The uncomfortable truth hangs in the air—invisible but heavy—between the three adults in the room. Everyone but Willow seems to register what it means. Chelsea isn’t invited. She was never meant to be.
And to be fair, I hadn’t even thought to clarify it aloud when I saidfamily. I just meant Amerie and the kids. It didn’t occur to me that anyone else might’ve expected something more.
Chelsea stands frozen by the doorway, hand still wrapped around the glass of juice she hasn’t sipped from. Her eyes flit from Willow to Amerie, then land on me, and stay there.
A faint flush creeps up her neck, blooming over her cheeks and into her hairline.
“Oh… erm.” She sets down the glass on the end table, wringing her hands. “I understand I’m not meant to come. Don’t worry about it. It’s, um… it’s a family thing.”
She tries for a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. There’s a sharpness to the way she says “family”, like the word pains her to utter it.
She pulls out her phone from the pocket of her jeans, tapping the screen. “I’ve just remembered I have a thing. Something I need to get to.”
She doesn’t elaborate. She doesn’t look at any of us again.
Amerie and I both glance at each other, the shift in the room obvious. It’s like someone opened a window and let in a cold gust.
Chelsea steps into her boots without bothering to tie the laces and hurries out the back door, coat slung over one arm. The screen door slaps closed behind her, followed by the faint crunch of her bike tires over the gravel path.
Willow looks up at me, innocent and confused. “Daddy, she didn’t drink her juice.”
“I suppose she was in a rush,” I say, keeping my voice even.
But even as I say it, I’m frowning after the door, my hand absently resting on Widget’s back. I don’t know if I should feel guilty… but part of me does. Maybe she felt left out. Maybe she thought she was part of the unit more than she was. Maybe I should’ve said something kinder. Something to soften the blow.
But what would that be, exactly?
Thisisa family occasion and she’s not one of us. She’s only the nanny.
Amerie shifts beside me, and when I look over, she’s still watching the door too, lips pressed tight.
