Page 6 of The Wedding Planner's Manny
“I quit.”
My eyebrows climbed up my forehead. Wow, my nanny was not beating around the bush today. So I decided not to do so either. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I asked the question I'd had to askallmy nannies this year. “What did he do?”
There was no need to elaborate. We both knew I wasn't talking about Caleb. No, I was talking about my other son. My firstborn, who was nearly teenager now and behaved every bit as if he'd already crossed that line forever ago. Twelve-year-old Nathan was a force to be reckoned with.
“I was preparing food and when I turned around for a second, he slipped that… thatthingon the cutting board.”
Thing? By the disgust in Sandra's voice, I could only assume she was talking about my son's pet salamander, which she'd never been fond of. Before I could say anything to apologize for Nathan's extreme lack of regard for her phobia, Sandra spoke on.
“And a few minutes later when I went to grab my purse, he’d filled it with shaving cream! Cheap shaving cream that set off my asthma! I'm sorry, Mr. Probst, but your son is a public health risk.”
I grimaced. That was one way to put it. And to think he'd been such a sweet boy when he was Caleb's age. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, but he's notthatbad,” I made myself say even while I was seething on the inside. Why did Nathan always have to chase the nannies away? It was like he'd made it his personal mission to make my life miserable. Mine and Caleb's. The high turnover rate wasn't good for the youngest member of our family.
“You know that heisthat bad,” Sandra countered. “I've been trying to hang on for Caleb's sake, but there is a line, Mr. Probst, and it has been thoroughly crossed.”
“I'll replace your bag and I’ll talk to Nathan. I'm sure we can—”
“No. You'll have to accept my resignation. Quite frankly, I cannot work around that boy any longer.
It’s been one prank too many.”
I let out a long, suffering sigh. It always ended like this. Every nanny I hired was understanding of Nathan and his struggles at first, but everyone's patience was limited in the end. I couldn't blame them.
My son certainly wasn't doing himself or anyone else any favors. My own patience was stretched more than thin, and I was the boy's father.
“I'll stay until you are done with your work today,” Sandra said. “But then I'm gone.”
Well, at least I didn't have to rush home right away. That also gave me time to cool off before I had to face Nathan and decide on a punishment. My least favorite part of parenting, for sure.
Ending the call, I rubbed my temples and then I stepped back into the living room. Protocol was not to let my clients know about any upsetting news I received—no point in adding my stress to theirs—but in spite of being an accomplished wedding planner, I was still human and, as such, not always perfect. To be honest, the number of times I managed to be perfect was actually frighteningly low. In any case, Nick read something on my face when I came back into the living room.
Something that prompted him to ask, “Bad news?” with a concerned expression on his face.
“Kind of.” The words escaped my lips before I could stop myself. At that point, I figured I might as well go on. “It sounds like I'm going to have to look for a new nanny when I get home,” I said, but I knew enough not to tell him why I needed a nanny in the first place. Nobody wanted their wedding consultant to tell them about their own failed mess of a marriage. God, I was such a cliché. The wedding planner who couldn't make his marriage work. Truly the only reason I wasn't divorced yet was because I didn't even know where my wife was.
Wherever she was, though, I was fairly certain she wasn't coming back. What Ididn'tknow for sure was how I felt about that.
“I'm sorry to hear it,” Nick said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “That must be stressful. I hope you find someone soon.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, trying to inject some good humor in my voice. “If you know anyone who excels at taming wild children, let me know.”
It was meant to be a joke, really. I never thought Nick would take me seriously.
“Daddy!” Caleb raced to the door when I came home.
“Hey, little man!” I lifted him up and he squealed. “Oof, you're actually getting big. Won't be able to do this for much longer.”
“No, you always have to do it!” he insisted.
“I'll try, buddy,” I promised, setting him down. “Where's Sandra?”
“Kitchen.” Caleb pointed.
“Thanks.” I ruffled his hair, peeled myself out of my coat and shoes and found my nanny in the kitchen, standing at the stove.
“I've prepared dinner,” she greeted me, waving the wooden ladle she held in her hand. “But I think it's best if I don't stick around to eat with you.”
I glanced at the pot on the stove, noticing the smell of chili that hung in the air. “You're an angel.
