The Nanny

Chapter 22

All of those dreams were shattered at my mother's stinging truth. How am I supposed to move past this?

It wasn't a productive day around the apartment. I checked on her periodically throughout the day, pushing my eyes to the crack of the door, refusing to show myself. Each time she was either sleeping, reading a Nicholas Sparks novel or typing on her laptop. She was an avid Facebook user, so I assumed she was updating her daily status.

"I'm leaving to pick up Haley from school. I'll be back in a half hour. If somehow Andrew is home before me, be friendly and don't say a word." It was the first time I'd spoken to her since we left the café nearly four hours ago. My tone was strict and orderly—warning her I was in no mood for arguing.

The trip to Haley's school was painfully exaggerated. I was saving gas by walking, but it was hard to keep the tears tucked inside as I saw a mother sitting at a bus stop with her baby. The child's small hands gripped its mother's with all the strength it could gather. The mother, equally as happy, kissed the child's head and rocked it back and forth. I prayed that that child would never have to suffer the news of their mother having cancer. It wasn't fair—even for a complete stranger.

Haley bounded out of the school, sticking by Allie and Genevieve's sides. At the sight of me, she gave her friends hugs and sprinted toward me. I wasn't surprised when she gave me her daily hug.

I slapped on a smile, knowing I had to find some way to cover my sadness. "How was your day?" I asked her, gripping her hand as tightly as that child had gripped its mother's. I waited for her to say it was too tight, but she never complained.

"Good, I guess," she mumbled in reply. "I have math and reading homework."

I suppressed a laugh. She hated math more than any subject. "We'll get you through it. What are you learning in math?"

"Fractions."

Oh. Great.

Pooka greeted us at the door, licking our legs and whining for attention. He finally stopped when I picked him up.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and humming to herself. Like nothing was wrong. Of course, that was another reason cancer sucked. You couldn't always tell until it was too late.

"Layla!" yelled Haley. She gave Mom a hug and sat on her lap. "How was your day?"

"Oh, it was...fine," she replied, briefly making eye contact with me.

I kept a straight face, merely so Haley wouldn't be prompted to ask questions. She did that when she noticed someone was clearly upset.

Mom and I played it cool, pretending today's previous events had never taken place. It was best for Haley not to know right now. I had to tell Andrew first, which would already get a reaction out of Haley. How was Andrew going to react to the news? He was estranged from his parents; if one of them was sick, he probably wouldn't have ever known. It was heartbreaking to think that, but he had said it multiple times.

I couldn't imagine never talking to my mom. Now I was going to be forced to think like that until the day it actually became true.

Haley asked to watch a movie, but I suggested we get her homework done. I got several whiny responses from just one sentence, but I eventually won her over.

We did math first—save the best for last, in her words. Fractions weren't my cup of tea, and they definitely weren't Haley's either. She covered her face and wrinkled her eyebrows—two signs of obvious confusion. After quite some time, I couldn't figure it out, either. Mom helped on one problem, but the rest was beyond us. Honestly, if the math assignments were too difficult for a college graduate, they were too hard for a first grader. Perhaps I was just stupid.