Page 47 of The Nanny Goal

“Baba sleeping,” she says.

He backs the car out of the driveway before expanding on that. “Yeah, my mom is pretty tired. She did wake up briefly, which was nice to see. The nurse said she’s responding well to medicine.”

“That’s great.”

He nods. “And more great news—your mom was right. There’s a season ticket holder who lives half a block from the hospital and has a short-term rental suite in their basement. So, my dad has a place to go to have a shower and sleep that is walkable to the hospital. I booked it for him for a week. Hopefully, by that point she’ll be able to come home.”

His voice cracks on the last few words.

My fingers ache to reach across the centre console and squeeze his arm.

“We’ll make it easy for her once she does come home,” I promise.

“Thank you.” He exhales and taps his head back against the head rest. “It’s hard to see her in a hospital bed.”

“I bet.”

We come to a red light at the exit from the subdivision, and as he checks traffic on the busier road we’re about to turn onto, I twist in my seat to wave at Inessa in the mirror.

She laughs and covers her face with her hands.

“Do you want to listen to music, malyshok?” Alexei lifts his voice, but he doesn’t look back at the mirror. He carefully keeps his eyes on the road, which means I can slide my gaze back and forth between them as he drives.

She claps her hands and asks for something I don’t catch, but he understands clearly. He taps his phone screen to find a playlist called Inessa’s Tracks, and then drops his hand to the console between us.

His long fingers curl around the edge, invading the space where my knees are. His knuckles press against the outside of my thigh as his thumb presses on the volume control button on the console.

Why would Mercedes put that buttonthere? Do they not understand how weird it feels for Alexei to casually rub his hand against the outside of my knee?

If he is affected by nudging me, he doesn’t show it.

His hand returns to the steering wheel and I pour all my attention into watching Inessa dance in the mirror.

Neither of us say anything else for the drive to the arena.

By the time we get there, the equipment team have skates set out for me. They’re brand new, right out of the box, and I suspect someone was sent out to buy them.

“What do you think, Inessa? Should we skate some laps while your dad practices?”

“No,” she says very clearly. “Jump?”

Alexei responds in Russian, and again she shakes her head.

He looks at me. “Do you understand jumping couch?”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Yep,” I say. “That’s upstairs in the front office area. I’ll take her up to see Shannon.”

“I’m sorry. I thought she would like skating with you. I know I would have.” He finds me a keycard that will get me upstairs, and hands it over.

“Another time, maybe.” I offer my hand to Inessa, and she slides her fingers into my grip. “Let’s go, baby girl.”

But we’ve barely made it to the elevator before we run into Kiley. She has her dog with her on a lead, and when she sees Inessa, she tells Puck to sit—and Puck does, immediately.

“Doggie,” Inessa whispers, her grip tightening on me.

“Do you want to pet her gently?” Kiley asks.

We move closer, and Inessa tentatively reaches out.

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