Was I speaking out loud? Were words even coming out of my mouth? Because Greyson was reacting as if I were a ghost, and he couldn’t hear a word I was saying.

“She’s really talented and—” I started again, and I watched his body physically cringe.

“We don’t have to do this, Eleanor,” he interjected, still not looking my way.

“Do what?”

“Engage with each other.” He ran his hand along his jawline before dropping it and clasping his fingers together.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I just figured you’d want to be updated on my first week.”

“I already received updates from Allison.”

“Right, of course, but just so you know, I’m completely okay with updating you each day, since we are around one another. I can stop by your office before I head home. Going through Allison is good and all, but I feel that sometimes she just relays the information without giving you the heart of things. I think us communicating would be wise. Plus, if you think about it—”

“No,” he cut in.

“What?”

“I said no. That’s not going to happen. You will report to Allison, end of story.”

“But, Greyson—”

“Please, Eleanor,” he pleaded. He begged me to stop talking. As if the idea of me reporting to him was too much, as if interacting with me was a huge burden.

I took a deep breath, feeling my skin crawl. He was definitely not the boy I’d once known. “Sorry, Greyson. All I am saying is, I really feel like you should be involved with everything.”

“I am involved.”

Yeah, right.

Just because he showed up to an appointment once a week and waved goodbye to Lorelai in the morning before leaving for work, that didn’t make him an involved parent.

But I bit my tongue.

Stay in your lane, Eleanor. Stay in your lane.

It was just so hard to do that when the boy I’d once loved would’ve never been so cold.

30

Eleanor

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: January 18, 9:54 PM

SUBJECT: Work Standards.

Eleanor,

After our interaction this afternoon, I feel it is important to go over some guidelines on working for me. Firstly, I believe it is best that you address me as Mr. East from here on out. I believe it will make things less personal. Since you are an employee, this is appropriate behavior, and it is how all my previous employees have been told to approach me. It is nothing personal, merely a business standard that is expected. I appreciate you upholding this structure moving forward.

Please note that you are to take any and all updates directly to Allison as opposed to bringing them to me. This is of the utmost importance, as I am a very busy individual and I do not have the time or patience to be bothered at your will. I am running a huge corporation, and the last thing I need is for the nanny to occupy my valuable time speaking out of turn about piano lessons.

As to that matter, Lorelai will continue her lessons, end of story.

I believe Allison has already informed you of the three-strike process. Please respect these rules and keep them at the forefront of your mind as we move forward.

Warm regards,

-Mr. East

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: January 18, 10:16 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Work Standards.

Aye aye, Captain.

Er, sorry, I mean Mr. East.

Lukewarm regards,

-Eleanor

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

DATE: January 18, 10:34 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Re: Work Standards.

Eleanor,

Your sarcasm is ill-received.

Please be more cognizant of acting your age.

Strike one.

Warm regards,

-Mr. East

31

Greyson

Lukewarm regards.

I didn’t know if Eleanor was trying to be comical or sassy, but she’d missed the mark on both accounts. I simply found it childish and rude. There wasn’t anything I’d said to her that was out of the norm for a professional place of employment, and for the amount she was being paid, she could’ve at least been respectful enough to not be catty.

I didn’t have any more work to do in my home office that night, and it was only eleven. Perhaps that was why I’d found the need to send Eleanor the email at all.

I needed to stay busy. Otherwise I’d think, and nothing good came from my thoughts.

Ding.

I looked down at my cell phone.

Landon: Roses are red, violets are blue, would you stop being a dick and just call me, dude?!

Landon’s best friend daily check-in message came a little later than normal that night. He must’ve had a long day of filming.

After high school, Landon’s life had shifted in a way most people only dreamed of. He’d gone off to California during spring break to get wasted and party, and instead, he had been discovered by a Hollywood acting scout and become this insanely famous actor.

People called him the next Brad Pitt, but I still just called him Landon. The last thing he needed was to think he was a famous god. He was surrounded by enough people who praised him as if they knew him, but he and I had never had that type of relationship. I was proud of him, yeah, but I didn’t treat him like a celebrity. I treated him like my best friend from childhood. He needed some people to keep him grounded.

I didn’t message him back that night. He didn’t expect me to.

“Daddy,” a small voice said, making me look up as my office door opened. Lorelai was standing there rubbing her eyes and yawning as she walked into the office. She was once again wearing her butterfly wings on her back, even though I’d taken them off about two hours earlier when I’d done my rounds to check on the girls.

“What are you doing out of bed?” I asked, standing from my desk.

“I had a bad dream,” she whined, still rubbing her eyes.

I walked over and picked her up in my arms. “Let’s get you back to bed. You have school in the morning.”

“Can I sleep with you and Mommy?” she asked, and her words hit me straight in the chest. I took a few deep breaths and tried to push down the hurting her words caused my soul.

“Not tonight, Lorelai.”

“But Daddy,” she cried.

“Not tonight,” I repeated as I led her to her room.

I laid her down, and she was still crying with tiny tears falling from her closed eyes. “Will you lay with me, Daddy?” she asked, sniffling. I lay down beside her, and she wrapped her arms around me. Lorelai wasn’t one to ever really show sadness except for when she had bad dreams. I wondered if they were anything like my dreams. I wouldn’t have wished my nightmares on my worst enemies.

As I held her, her sadness began to fade as she fell back into a deeper sleep. I, on the other hand, lay there wide awake, staring into the darkness as her words danced across my mind.

Can I sleep with you and Mommy?

Part of me thought she’d said the words because she was half asleep and confused. Another part knew better than that, because I had walked in on her pretending to talk to Nicole. I had watched her hold full blown conversations with a mother who was not here. I had witnessed her setting a spot for her mother at the dinner table on Spaghetti Mondays.

Lorelai knew Nicole had passed away, but she had somehow managed to hold on to her, to keep going on as if her mother was still alive, just invisible.

I worried about that, wondering if it was healthy for her mind.

Then again, I also envied her ability to have that connection with Nicole in some way, her ability to believe in something bigger than what was right there in front of her.

If I could have lived in a world where I believed in angels, I’d have talked to my wife every day, too.

After Lorelai was asleep, I stayed a bit longer, holding her against me.

She needed me that night, but perhaps I needed her, too.

I woke up still in Lorelai’s bed, a bit confused about my whereabouts. I sat up a little as my body whined and groaned from being twisted up in such a tiny bed.

What time is it?

How long have I been asleep?

I had no clue, though, it did seem like the best rest I’d gotten in over ten months, even if my body felt bent out of shape.

I walked to the kitchen to find Eleanor making a cup of coffee from the Keurig.

As she turned around and jumped slightly when she saw me standing there. “Oh, Grey—er—Mr. East. Good morning.”

I narrowed my eyes.

It’s morning?

“What time is it?” I grumbled.

“Seven. I was about to get the girls up to shower,” she explained. “But then I saw you sleeping with Lorelai and figured I’d let you both rest a little longer.”

“Seven?! Shit!” I moaned, running my hands through my messy hair. I couldn’t believe I’d slept in that long. I never slept in. I was late and didn’t have time to get my morning run in. “You should’ve woken me,” I snapped, even though it wasn’t her job to make sure I was up. Still.

Shit!

“Sorry, I just figured you were already dressed for work, and went to lay with her for a little bit.”

“Why would you think I was ready for work?” I barked, irritated at her, but I didn’t even know why I was irritated. Sometimes my emotions ran wild before I could catch them.

“Well, you know…” She gestured toward me, and I looked down at my outfit.

My wrinkled, five-hundred-dollar suit that I wore to bed last night. I wore a five-hundred-dollar suit to bed like I had no cares in the world.

“Oh. Sorry,” I grumbled, because I felt like an idiot. I turned to walk away and she called back to me.

“Mr. East, just really fast,” she said, her voice low and a bit timid.

“What is it?”

“I just wanted to apologize for my email response last night. It was very unprofessional.”

I narrowed my eyes, somewhat taken aback by her apology. I hadn’t expected one at all. “Oh, well, yes. It was unprofessional, but it isn’t a huge deal.”