Page 27 of Skate the Line

Typically, by day two, Ellie’s newest nanny would have told me her every last secret and desire. I’d know all her hopes and dreams, regardless of how fucking uninterested I’d seem. It was as if they thought getting to know them would change my mind about not wanting them in a romantic way.

Sunny is completely different, though.

It’s been all business with her.

Leaving Sunny and Marco outside to continue their morning catch-up session, I pull the stool out for Ellie and begin brushing her hair.

In broken Russian, she angrily curses.

I cringe and manage to keep myself from laughing. “Ellie,” I warn. “Cursing in a different language is still cursing.”

She sighs and slumps backward in her chair, giving me access to her long brown hair. It’s unruly and tangled.

I’m fucking lost on what to do with it.

Most days, I just hand her a headband, and she pushes back the thick strands.

Today, though, I’m tempted to shave it.

I’m only half-kidding, but frustration skips up my spine as I pull my phone out and click on my trusty parenting hack: YouTube.

How to braid in simple terms.

It can’t be that hard. I’m good with my hands.

I click on the first video and begin to follow along. Ellie’s head jerks backward for the third time, and the warm chestnut-colored strands are tangled in my large fingers. I’m sweating and frustrated.

“Good morning, Rapunzel. Your chariot awaits.” Sunny’s cheery voice floats into the kitchen, and tell me why I fucking panic.

Ellie turns at the sound of her new nanny with my hands buried in her hair.

She pauses mid-step, and her smile fades. The confusion lasts three seconds before she slaps her palm over her mouth and hides a giggle, which only pisses me off further.

“Do you need help?” she finally says, creeping toward us.

“No,” I snap.

Ellie curses in Russian again, and I shut my eyes.For fuck’s sake.

I sigh loudly and pull my fingers out of Ellie’s hair.

My ears are hot with anger.

I don’t take failure lightly, even if it's something as simple as braiding hair.

I bend down and kiss the top of Ellie’s head. “I’ll see you for dinner, Printsessa.” I lower my voice. “And stop cursing in Russian.”

She tries not to smile.

Sighing, I turn and let Sunny take over. I keep my back to her, but I can see how quickly she braids my daughter’s hair in the reflection of the window overlooking the backyard. She bends and whispers something into her ear. I see Ellie nod, and then I hear her feet slapping against the hardwood on her way over to me.

Her small arms wrap around my leg. “It’s okay, Daddy.” The disappointment in myself cuts that much deeper with her rosy cheeks and soft eyes looking up in my direction. “You can’t be good at everything.”

Sunny is right behind her with Ellie’s yellow backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Can too,” I reply.

The puck flies around the ice with so much velocity I’m surprised there isn’t fire trailing behind.

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