Page 111 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House

‘I’m not sick,’ she whispered.

‘Okay, okay, sweetheart, then whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. The court will see how well we’ve taken care of Olive. She’s thriving because of you. You don’t need to leave. This was just a bad day.’

Her lips tipped into a sad smile. ‘No, Archer. This wasn’t just a bad day. I never should have had this job in the first place and we both know it. I have no qualifications to be a nanny.’

‘Fuck qualifications. Olive loves you.Ilove you. I don’t want you to be her nanny anymore anyway, Iris. I want to be with you. I want you to live here for real. I want my bedroom to beourbedroom. I want you in Olive’s life. In my life. Okay? You’re fired, Iris.’

She was crying again, and he wiped the tears from her cheeks, pressing his forehead against hers.

‘Please, sweetheart. Don’t cry.’

‘I can’t?—’

‘Just sleep on it, okay?’ He cut her off. He couldn’t bear to hear what she couldn’t do. ‘Don’t make a decision today. Too much has happened.’

She nodded, her head moving slightly against his. ‘Okay,’ she whispered, and that one little word sent such relief through his body he nearly sagged to the floor.

‘Okay,’ he echoed, kissing her head and stepping back. ‘We’ll talk more tomorrow. Just get some sleep.’

He wanted to stay. He wanted to wrap himself around her and take her to bed, to keep her there, but she clearly didn’t want him to. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, her eyes dark and sad. He would give her space to think. By morning she would see, she would see that this was just a bad day, that it wasn’t her fault, that everything worked out fine in the end.

She would see that she belonged here.

‘Goodnight, Iris.’

‘Goodnight, Archer.’

He made the mistake of sleeping in his own room instead of keeping watch in the hallway, but it wasn’t Olive missing in the morning. It was Iris.

* * *

She’d left three things on the kitchen counter that Archer found the next morning at 5am. A note for him, a note for Olive, and a box of Bisquick pancake mix.

‘But where is she?’ Olive asked for the twelfth time.

Archer wanted to scream.

‘At her cousin’s house,’ he answered calmly, for the twelfth time.

Olive scrunched her nose. ‘Do I have any cousins?’

‘No.’

‘But why is Iris at her cousin’s house? Is she coming back?’

‘Because she needs a break, and I don’t know.’

‘A break from what?’

Us.

‘A break from being a nanny.’

Olive’s frown deepened. She looked back down at the note Iris had left. It was more of a doodle than a note. A stick-figure Iris and a stick-figure Olive were holding hands in the picture with a rainbow over them. Iris had written:

Dear Olive, I really loved being your nanny, but my cousin needs my help for a little while. Take good care of your dad. All my love, Iris.

Honestly, it was better than the note she’d left him, which just said:I’m so sorry for everything.At the bottom, she’d included the name and number of a replacement nanny and a suggestion to try Bisquick. And that was fucking it. No ‘all my love’, no explanation, no promise to come back. Was she quitting as his nanny or breaking up with him? Both, apparently.