“I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick,” I said once her hands were clean. “Why don’t you go grab your apron and get ready for pancakes?”
“Otay.” She grinned, already running for the door.
Once downstairs, I helped Charlotte tie the apron my mom had sewn for her around her waist, then we got to mixing the pancake batter. I measured the ingredients, and then Charlotte took care of the whisking while I grabbed the carton of blueberries from the industrial-sized fridge.
“Ready?” I asked when the cast iron skillet on the stove was warm and it looked like Charlotte had stirred out most of the lumps.
“Ready!”
I poured batter onto the buttered skillet, and once they were ready, I gave her the go-ahead to flip the pancakes with the spatula, as that was her favorite part.
“Want an egg today?” I asked, even though I already knew how this would go.
“I don’t like eggs.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose.
“I figured you’d say that,” I said, suppressing a smile. “Worth a shot, though.”
Little did she know I’d already snuck a few eggs into the batter when she wasn’t looking.
Gotta sneak some protein into her system somehow.
We used teamwork to plate the pancakes, and then I added two eggs to the skillet for myself.
“Ready to make your blueberry smiley face?” I asked, carrying the carton to the table where she was already climbing into her chair.
“Uh huh.” She reached for the berries, her tongue poking out in concentration as she carefully placed each one just right.
While she worked, I flipped my eggs, started the espresso machine, and breathed in the comforting scent of coffee filling the kitchen. And for a brief moment, everything calmed. The soft hiss of the espresso machine, Charlotte’s quiet humming, and the smell of blueberries made the house feel almost whole again.
“Done!” Charlotte called a moment later.
“Want whipped topping for the nose?” I asked, walking over to where she was admiring her creation.
“Yes.” She grinned, scooting her plate toward me so I could add a generous swirl in the space she’d left in the center.
I brought my plate and coffee to the table, and had just taken my first bite, when my phone buzzed from the pocket of my sweats. I glanced at the screen, expecting it to be the reminder I’d set for myself about her friend’s birthday party. Instead, I found a text from Charlotte’s nanny.
Amelia: Hey Theo, I just wanted to let you know that I just got a new job. I start Monday morning and won’t be able to take care of Charlotte anymore. Sorry for the late notice. I just got the job offer yesterday.
I stared at the message.
What?
I reread it twice, hoping I was misunderstandingsomething.Four weeks.I’d only hired her four weeks ago and she’d already gotten another job?
Had I not been paying her enough? Was Charlotte too much to handle?
She’d seemed happy… At least as happy as a twenty-five-year-old grad student spending her summer with a three-year-old could be.
Across the table, Charlotte was busy making a syrup puddle on her pancake, blissfully unaware.
“Sweetheart, maybe go easy on the?—”
“Yes, Daddy?” she asked sweetly, setting the syrup bottle back on the table.
“Never mind.” I shook my head. “Enjoy your pancake.”
I looked back at my phone, the text still mocking me.