“God.” I sit back hard against the wall, eyes squeezing shut. “Is she asking for me now?”
“Honestly?” Nora says. “She’s asking to go home. She doesn’t want to be at school anymore today. Says she’s tired and just wants to see her dad.” I glance at the conference room, the knot of people inside, the faint echoes of someone raising their voice. “I’m across the city. With traffic, it’ll be at least an hour. I’m so sorry. If you need, I can call the car?—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nora interrupts. “Honestly, she’s decompressing. I just don’t think she wants to be around other kids today.” I check my phone calendar. Three back-to-back meetings, all client-facing, all scheduled weeks out. The kind of clients who expect you to be both omnipresent and omniscient. But none of them matter more than Michaela, and certainly not right now.
“I can be there as soon as I wrap this up. Maybe an hour, hour and a half?”
Nora hums thoughtfully. “David, can I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“If you need to, I can take Michaela with me for the afternoon. To my home. It’s only a few blocks away, and I have a quiet space where she can decompress. Plus a big dog who just adores kids.” A pause. “I know it’s unconventional. But she trusts me. And I’d rather she be somewhere comfortable than sitting in an office for hours.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” Her voice softens. “She’s had a difficult day, David. And I realize you’re at a critical point setting up your new firm. Let me help.”
Something cracks in my chest. The constant pressure of doing everything alone, of being everything Michaela needs while the world keeps demanding more—it’s exhausting. And here’s this woman, offering to carry some of that weight like it’s nothing.
“Can I talk to her first?”
“Of course.”
She puts Michaela on, and her voice is so small I almost don’t recognize it. “Daddy?”
“I’m right here, monster.”
There’s a sniffle. “Can I come home?”
“Yes. If you want to, you can. I just need a bit of time to get there. Nora—I mean, Principal Harrison said you can wait for me at her house. She has a dog. Is that OK with you?”
A long silence. Then a hitch in her breath. “I want to go with Principal Harrison. Is that OK?”
My chest goes tight again, but I manage not to let it show in my voice. “That’s absolutely OK. I think that’s a great idea.”
She breathes out, something between relief and exhaustion. “Will you come get me later?”
“I promise. I’ll come as soon as I can. You can call or text me whenever you want, remember?”
“OK.” She’s trying to be brave. I hear her swallow. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too.”
The line clicks, and Principal Harrison comes back. “I’ll text you my address.”
“Thank you, Nora,” I say, but the words aren’t enough. I want to convey my actual gratitude and shame, the helplessness of relying on strangers—even competent, generous ones. “I’ll keep trying to get hold of the nanny.”
“It’s really no trouble. We’ll see you after work.”
I disconnect the call and take a steadying breath. When I turn back toward the conference room, Caleb is already standing in the doorway, a look of concern etched into his face.
“Something happen with Michaela?”
“Yes. But it’s handled for now. Principal Harrison’s taking Michaela to her house until I can pick her up.”
Something flickers across Caleb’s face—curiosity, maybe, or amusement—but he doesn’t comment. “Do you need to leave?”
“Not right away. But as soon as I’m able.”
