Page 10 of Ice Darling
“Daaad.” Gordie’s eyebrows cinch together in genuine distress. “I have to see her. It’s for my booklet.”
“What booklet?”
Her tiny hands slam on her hips. “My What I Want to be When I Grow Up booklet. I told you a million times.”
“Oh, right.Thatbooklet.” I massage my forehead. “Why don’t you write about me instead?”
She scrunches her nose. “Accounting is boring.”
“Math is very fun.” I tap her nose. “No matter how you slice and dice them, numbers will always tell the truth. Isn’t that fascinating?”
Gordie looks at me, unimpressed.
“What about Grandma? Working on a cruise ship is cool, isn’t it? She can tell you all about her travels.”
“I have to go and draw pictures for my booklet, Dad. And I already asked, and Miss April said yes.”
“Fine. We’ll ask Miss Truman to help you with that.”
“I’m afraid Miss Truman won’t be available for the time being,” Mom says, stepping into the kitchen.
I sit straight up, immediately on the alert. “What do you mean?”
“Sweetheart”—Mom’s smile is strained and carefully curated for Gordie’s sake—“your nanny is going to be taking a trip to see her daughter soon. She’ll come over to say goodbye later.”
“Goodbye?” Gordie blinks.
“Is it a permanent move?” I ask Mom in concern.
“Uh…yes.” Mom glances at me. “She hasn’t been feeling well lately.”
“Is she going to be okay?” I ask.
Mom’s eyes dart to Gordie, and she hesitates before saying, “Yes, yes. She’ll be fine.”
I stiffen, not buying it at all.
“But,” she adds, “Miss Truman wants to be near her children for a while.” Mom extends a hand to Gordie who accepts it happily and swings their connected arms back and forth. “So that means you get to hang out with Grandma for a few more days than expected.”
Later, after I put my daughter to bed, I walk Mom to her car.
“Miss Truman isn’t going to be okay, is she?” I say in a low voice.
“It’s not looking too good, son. She has a long, difficult health journey in front of her, but she’s determined.”
“Why didn’t she tell us herself?”
“She wanted me to tell you as she’s so attached to you and Gordie that she was afraid she’d break down in tears if she brought it up.”
My heart pangs with sadness. “We’re going to miss her.”
Mom nods. “Miss Truman has to leave right away. How are you going to find a new nanny?”
“How hard can it be?”
“Viking Renthrow, it took youtwo yearsto find a nanny that you liked. You turned everyone away until Miss Truman showedup. Thank goodness your job allowed you to work from home for a few months to watch Gordie, or who knows where you two would be?”
“Homeless and on the streets, but at least, we’d be together,” I say.
