Fortunately, Mrs. Tate was young and immediately friendly, beaming at Molly as she welcomed her and said, “Class, we have a new student. Some of you will remember Molly Kendrick from last year.” Then she looked around her room. “Let’s see. Where shall we put you?”
A girl’s voice rang out. “Molly can sit with us! Put her here.”
Molly sucked in a breath and raised her head. “Arianna?”
He bent to murmur, “Is she a friend?”
“She was one of my bestest friends last year.” Molly dropped his hand, and Mrs. Tate escorted her to a square of four desks put together. One was empty, at least for today.
Grateful to see he was forgotten, Nate had returned to the office to revise the short list of people authorized to pick up his daughter. The list had remained in her file from last year. With Anna’s name added, he’d finally headed for work, arriving only two hours later than usual.
Then, instead of accomplishing anything meaningful, Nate worried about whether yanking Molly out of class and dropping her into a new one several weeks into the year was the right thing to do. He had no trouble imagining what Sonja would have to say about it.
How much change was too much for his little girl? Given that she’d probably have to switch back to the other school four weeks from now, she might have been better off if he’d continued to drive her to the school in Seattle and pick her up. Sonja would accuse him of selfishness and might even be right—but he’d be restricted to six-hour workdays instead of his usual ten or more. He couldn’t ask Anna to do all that driving, especially not in her old car. He could just imagine her response if he offered to buy her a new one. If he had to get Molly to school and pick her up when it let out, he could do some work from home while Anna kept an eye on Molly, but he couldn’t meet with anyone or extend his day for drinks or working dinners. It just wasn’t feasible.
Too late, anyway. Nate consoled himself that Molly hadn’t seemed to like her previous teacher very much. Maybe when she had to return to that school, they’d agree to shift her to another class. Or maybe that would be one too many changes.
He groaned and scrubbed his scalp, glad he was currently alone.
He also called Anna several times, once to be sure the moving truck had shown up, and then again to confirm she was at the house before the end of the school day. Had she remembered to contact the school to let them know which bus Josh was supposed to ride?
“Yes,” she said, almost patiently, “I went by in person so they know our current address. I also picked up some groceries. I’ll put dinner on for you and Molly. If she’s hungry before you get home, she can eat with us and you can reheat your meal.”
Nate opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to cook for him—and shut it again. Damn, it would be good to walk in the door to a home-cooked meal. To know Molly would be taken care of if he ran late here at the office, although that was unlikely to happen today. He already itched to get home. So he said only, “Thank you. Josh didn’t have practice today?”
“No, they’re Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Games Saturday.”
“That’s quite a schedule.”
“He loves it.” Her voice became quieter. “He was really mad at me when we thought we’d have to move before the end of the season.”
“When’s that?” Nate asked.
“November. Depending on the weather, those last games are miserable.”
They were conversing. Even though a beep told him he had a call coming in, he didn’t want to end this one.
“Rain and snow, huh?”
“Frozen feet and muddy kid,” she agreed. “Josh plays goalie a lot, and once the weather turns, there’s always a mud hole right in front of the goal.”
Nate grinned. “I played youth football when I wasn’t much older than Josh. Same season. I loved mud.”
She sighed. “So does he. I’ve learned to keep a ratty old towel in the car for him to sit on.”
Nate laughed, but after the conversation ended, he didn’t immediately check missed calls. Instead, he pondered why Molly hadn’t played any sports. Swim lessons in the summer, essential when she’d lived on the lake, and that was it. Did any of her friends play soccer? He wondered if she’d like to try it next year. To his recollection, she’d never participated in any after-school youth activities. And that got him to wondering whether Sonja had had her first glass of white wine a lot earlier in the day than he’d realized, and had developed a problem with booze a lot longer ago than he’d realized, too. With the hours he worked, she could have hidden too much from him.
He called the treatment center only to be politely rebuffed. The first days were always difficult. Patient information was kept confidential. The woman he spoke to wasn’t moved by his explanation that Sonja’s young daughter was scared for her.
Nate returned a few calls before thinking, To hell with it. This day was past resuscitation. He was ready to call it, start anew tomorrow.
HAVING TURNED OFF the lights, he was letting himself out of his office when he came face-to-face with his partner, John Li. John had obviously been about to knock on his door. The two men had been friends since their freshmen year in college, when they’d been paired as roommates.
John had a file in his hand. Looking astonished, he said, “You’re leaving?”
With anyone else, Nate would have claimed to be meeting an investor for predinner drinks. Instead, he said, “Yeah. I told you I found a woman to be there when Molly gets home, and she did start today. But I’d like to make sure the arrangement is working. And, frankly, I’ve had so many distractions, I’m useless, anyway.”
“I understand,” his partner said. He probably did; he was married and had two kids. His wife was an orthopedic surgeon, and somehow they juggled responsibilities with astonishing success. That didn’t mean it was easy or that there weren’t days when their arrangements for the kids failed. “This—” he lifted the folder “—can wait until morning.”
Usually Nate wouldn’t have been able to walk away without knowing what this was, without turning and going back into his office. It was part of the drive that had taken K & L Ventures to the top of the pyramid. Right now, he said, “Thanks,” and continued on his way.
He did remember during the drive home why he didn’t usually cut and run at five o’clock. Traffic crawled. He sometimes used the express lanes, which at this time of day required drivers to pay a toll, but he couldn’t see that it helped all that much. Funny, though, that he looked forward to getting home, something he couldn’t recall feeling in a very long time.
It would be good to smell dinner cooking when he walked in the door, he told himself. And he wanted to hear how Molly’s day had gone. But Nate didn’t make a practice of lying to himself. And the truth was he liked knowing his house wasn’t empty, that somebody might anticipate his arrival.
He didn’t kid himself that Anna would be glad to see him
