SWNOVELS Skate the Line: Chapter 15
“How is it going, sweetheart? Are you staying warm?”
I smile at the sound of Nana’s voice. It’s always been the most comforting sound in the world.
“Nana,” I chide. “It’s no colder than Washington. I’m used to the chill in the air.”
Though, it feels a bit nippier than Washington, considering I’m surrounded by an awfully cold man.
“Well…” There’s a shuffling on the other end of the phone. “Make sure you wear long johns if you get too cold at night. You know they trap the heat in.”
I roll my lips so I don’t laugh. Long johns. I wonder what she’d think if she knew that the ones she gave me were shoved underneath the creaky, old window at the Airbnb I’m residing in to keep the cold air from gusting in while I sleep.
“Yes, Nana,” I say to appease her. “Don’t worry. You’ve raised me well.”
“And how is the man?”
She’s referring to Rhodes.
“He’s…fine. We don’t really talk much. I’m only over at the house when he’s away, and so far, it’s just been a couple of games and long practices.”
Nana sighs. “Well, just be careful, sweetheart. I still don’t like the idea of you all the way in Chicago without any family near.”
Guilt churns in my stomach.
Nana doesn’t exactly know the whole reason I moved this far from Washington. After I told her that it’s because I’m making enough money to cover the rest of her nursing home costs there—which isn’t a lie—she began searching for a cheaper one. I had to guilt her into staying put, thus circling back to even more guilt for me.
My fingers twiddle with clay as I shape it into a small bead. I grab a skewer and push it through the middle, creating a little space for a string to go through after it dries.
Painting is my forte, but that doesn’t just apply to canvases. If I’m feeling antsy, I’ll make some type of trinket out of clay to occupy my hands and paint it whenever I find the time. I figure I’d make some beads for Ellie so maybe we can bond over making bracelets.
“I’m fine, Nana. It makes me feel better that you’re in the same nursing home as Gramps, so shush. I’m staying put. The money is too good, and the hours give me plenty of time to paint again.”
“Allison, that’s wonderful that you’re painting again.”
I don’t bother correcting her when she uses my full name. No one is around to question the slip.
My phone beeps, and I pull it away from my ear. Mr. Volkova flashes on the screen, and my stomach dips.
“Hey, Nana, let me call you later. My boss is calling.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I love you.”
I hang up with my nana and switch the call over to Rhodes.
“Hello?”
“I need you to go to the school to get Ellie.”
If there wasn’t such an urgency to his voice, I’d probably mention how he didn’t even greet me, but after a week of working for him, I’ve learned that Rhodes isn’t the type of man who likes his buttons pressed.
That doesn’t stop me from wanting to press his buttons, though. I just have enough self-control to ignore the impulse.
“Is she okay?” I quickly climb to my feet.
He grumbles a yes under his breath and follows it with a sarcastic chuckle.
I’ll pry later.
“I’m on my way.”
“Do you need me to send Marco?” he asks.
Echoing voices cut through the other end, and I know he’s at practice.
“No, it’s the fifth,” I state.
“So?”
“He’s at his wife’s grave. He goes on the fifth of every month.”
Rhodes is silent as I continue to shuffle around to find my coat. The Airbnb is smaller than Rhodes’s entryway, and yet, I still can’t find anything.
“I’m nearby. I’ll just bring Ellie back to my place, and you can pick her up after practice.”
“Yeah,” he says. “That’ll work. I’ll be done in forty.”
“I’ll send you the address.”
“Okay.”
Silence.
Awkward silence.
“Okay…well, bye!”
“Sunny.”
My finger hovers over the end call button. “Yes?”
He clears his throat. “Thank you.”
My eyebrows shoot to my forehead. “You’re welcome, Mr. Volkova.”
I smile to myself and hang up the phone, knowing that it makes his eyes narrow each time I call him that.
I guess I’m not mature enough not to press his buttons after all.
When I walk into the school, I immediately grow anxious.
I don’t relax until I see her sitting on the bench in the hallway. She looks so out of place. Whereas most of the students’ uniforms are pressed neatly without a wrinkle to be seen, Ellie’s polo is untucked, and her khaki skirt is flipped up on the ends. Her braids are messy with little tendrils falling into her face. Her legs swing back and forth while she looks to be pondering something.
“Hi,” I say, taking a seat beside her.
She snaps to attention. Her mouth opens with shock. “Where is Daddy?”
“He sent me instead.” I eye her closely. Ellie does a pretty good job at hiding her emotions, but I don’t miss the relief that works itself onto her face.
Hmm. “Why do you look so relieved?”
“What does that mean?” she asks innocently.
“It means you’re happier to see me than you are him, but there must be a reason for that.” I nod to the principal’s door. “Did you get in trouble?”
Ellie looks away. Her little hands, stained with marker, grab onto the bench. There’s a shift in the air, and my heart falls. “You stay right here,” I whisper, tapping her knee.
I climb to my feet and walk to the principal’s door and gently knock. The door opens, and Ellie’s principal, whom I see in passing every morning, seems confused.
“Hello.” I smile. “I’m Ellie’s nanny. Mr. Volkova sent me to pick her up. I should be on the list.”
“Oh, right.” She blinks a few times, probably shocked that I’m still sticking around since the others were so fleeting. “Well, come in.”
I turn and wink at Ellie. Her cheeks turn pink.
Once the door is shut, I feel like I’m the one in trouble. The walls are lined with built-in bookshelves with old books in their rightful spots. The office is what I’d expect at a prestigious college, not an elementary school.
Where are the bright colors?
“Is everything okay?” I stand near the door. It seems safer.
“How long have you been Ellie’s nanny?” the principal asks.
I guess introductions are a thing of the past.
I shift on my feet. “A little over a week.”
Her hands rest on top of the desk, and she nods. “Well, you’ve made it longer than the rest.”
“And I intend to stay much longer. Ellie is a wonderful kid.” I soften my voice so she doesn’t think I’m being snippy. Though, I want to be.
“She is.” There’s a dramatic pause. “However, I’m concerned with her behavior.”
“I’m assuming that has something to do with me picking her up early?” I ask.
“I’ve tried telling Mr. Volkova that she’s a little withdrawn, but it doesn’t seem to be getting better. She’s smart and mature for her age. When she’s older, that will benefit her, but as a kindergartener, it’s concerning. She doesn’t have many friends and is very distrusting of adults.”
“What happened today?” I ask.
The principal drops her head. “Today, they had a substitute in music class, and Ellie refused to speak or even participate.” She looks me directly in the eye. “So, I had the school psychologist evaluate her.”
My hackles rise.
“Did her father approve of that?”
She glances away.
I’ll take that as a no.
“Well, no. But the reason I called him to pick Ellie up a little early was because I wanted to bring it to his attention that the final outcome was that with Ellie’s unstable home life, it is causing her to become apprehensive, mistrusting, skeptical…”
My heart beats a little faster with her implication that Ellie’s home life is unstable.
I question her. “Unstable?”
She laughs softly. “I’m not sure you know this, but Ellie has had multiple nannies in the past several months, so yes, unstable.”
Anger clouds my judgment.
I suddenly become protective over Ellie.
I know all about not trusting people, and that doesn’t mean that Ellie’s life is unstable or that Rhodes isn’t doing the best he can, like this snotty woman is obviously implying.
“Do you know why he has switched nannies so frequently?” she asks.
I eye her closely.
Does she think this is going to turn into a gossiping session?
“Yes.”
She waits for me to explain, but I don’t.
I understand her concern, but there is something about her tone that rubs me the wrong way. That may be because I’m distrusting as well, or it may be because she’s acting awfully judgy.
“Well, then”—she clasps her hands—“I hope bringing this to your attention will make a difference as it has not with her father.”
My hand rests on the door handle, and another line of anger works through me. I turn and look over my shoulder, pinning the principal in her spot. “Mr. Volkova is an amazing, caring father. The reason Ellie has had so many nannies isn’t because of him. It’s because of them. He’s trying his best to find the right person for her.”
I’m just as surprised at the rising of my voice as she is. A surprising wave of protectiveness comes over me at the thought of her thinking Rhodes isn’t a good father.
I’ve known bad fathers. He isn’t one of them.
I open the door and see Ellie standing right in front of the threshold with her ear turned toward the office. I give her a look, and she scurries away, pretending she wasn’t eavesdropping.
Before I leave, with Ellie’s hand in mine, the principal’s parting words linger, “I hope you’re the right person. For Ellie’s sake.”