Misadventures with a Manny Read online

  Misadventures with a Manny

  Toni Aleo

  This book is an original publication of Waterhouse Press.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2018 Waterhouse Press, LLC

  Cover Design by Waterhouse Press

  Cover photographs: Shutterstock

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  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  To my dad, Noel.

  Thank you for always believing in me and being so proud of me. I wouldn’t be who I am without you.

  Love you.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Acknowledgments

  Don’t miss any Misadventures!

  Excerpt from Misadventures with a Professor

  More Misadventures

  About Toni Aleo

  Chapter One

  Vera

  I am completely heartbroken.

  Everything hurts.

  But not due to the loss I am experiencing.

  That sickening feeling in my gut is for my boys.

  Holding Louis’s and Elliot’s hands, I watch my soon-to-be ex-husband, Simon, carry boxes to his truck. His girlfriend—Kaia, our former nanny—stands by the back of a cab with a pained look on her face. What the hell she has to be pained about is beyond me. She stole my children’s father from them and my husband from me. Yeah, things were rough between Simon and me. I worked a lot, as did he, but I’d loved him since I was sixteen. He is all I know, and now, he is leaving us.

  His family.

  Placing the boxes in the truck bed, Simon whispers something in her ear, and she gives him a weak smile. I want to scream. I want to throw something at them. How dare he display his love right there in front of our children. I wouldn’t do that to my kids.

  But I don’t say or do anything. I have to stay strong for them. Especially for our oldest, Charlie. He hasn’t been handling this well. Not that I expect him to.

  Just then, Charlie barrels out of the house. He throws a box onto the lawn, his voice breaking as he screams, “Here you go. Take the rest of your crap!”

  “Charlie, that’s unnecessary,” Simon calls, walking toward our fourteen-year-old son. “You don’t need to be hostile. Is your mother hostile?”

  Charlie doesn’t even look at me. His fists are shaking, his face red. He loves his father. Sometimes, I am convinced he loves his dad more than he loves me. They used to do everything together. Simon isn’t a bad father. But not only did he betray me with the affair, he betrayed the trust of our boys. Charlie swings his leg back and kicks Simon’s box hard. I press my lips together and stifle the impulse to intervene. This is between them.

  Quite honestly, I wish I could kick something. My heart sinks as my son makes a scene.

  “I hate you. You know that? How can you do this to us? We are supposed to be a family!”

  “And we are.” Simon reaches for him, but Charlie smacks his father’s hands away. “Just because I don’t love your mother anymore doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

  Hearing that really stings.

  “Well, I don’t love you! You’re leaving us. For her? She’s as dumb as a box of rocks. You’ve said that yourself.”

  “Charlie, things change—”

  “No! You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, and you ruined everything. You’re running out on us, and we don’t want you back.” He kicks Simon’s box again, splitting open the side so the contents spill out. “You’re nothing but a piece of shit!” Charlie roars and runs back into the house, slamming the door. Louis and Elliot jump a bit, so I squeeze their hands tightly, fighting back tears. I normally would never let my son talk like that to his father, but I know whatever I’d say would fall on deaf ears. Charlie is too upset, too heartbroken. His pain is killing me, combining with my own pain to form a dangerous mix. How could I let this happen? What did I do wrong? Did I work too much? Did I not give Simon enough in bed?

  Why wasn’t I enough?

  “You can’t help me here?” Simon barks at me, breaking my train of thought.

  I look at him, meeting the angry gaze of the man I’d loved my whole adult life. But when I look at him, it is as if I don’t know him. His brown eyes don’t make my heart skip a beat or my skin break out in gooseflesh. He isn’t the dorky, computer-obsessed guy I fell for so long ago. Now he’s the man who slept with our nanny in our bed. I will never get that out of my head for the rest of my life.

  I slowly shake my head. “I stopped helping you the moment you decided you were leaving.”

  He growls something incoherent as he throws everything back into the box and then loads the mess into the truck. Kaia starts toward me, but I cut her a look, and she pauses midstride. I know I suffer from really bad resting-bitch face, but when I actually want to turn it on, my expression can be brutal.

  “I’m really sorry, Vera,” Kaia squeaks.

  I don’t say a damned thing. She worked for us for six years. She had been one of my best friends. I know that’s where I messed up. I trusted her completely. I let her into my home life more than I should have. Yeah, she was the boys’ nanny, but there was no need for her to move in with us when she broke up with her boyfriend. At least I thought she’d broken up with her boyfriend. Turns out that was part of the lie she and Simon had come up with. How did I miss the looks they shared? The intimate touches… All of it. I missed every single sign. Was it because I was naïve, or did I not care? That part has me confused. How could they have had a relationship for over a year, and I never suspected anything?

  How did I allow something happening under my own nose to ruin my family?

  To hurt my boys?

  I hold my breath and look down at Louis and Elliot. The twins are holding on to me like I am a life preserver. Did they know before I did? I knew Charlie couldn’t have…not the way he is acting. But the twins are so quiet and always keep to themselves. Had they seen something and just didn’t know how to tell me? Shaking my head, I know it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I would never leave them. Never.

  Simon slams the truck door and looks back at us. When his gaze meets mine, I lift my chin and fight back tears. This is it. He is leaving. He is really leaving us. And he is going with her.

  “We have that appointment on Friday,” he calls.

  Our mediation.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Okay,” he says. He walks toward us and bends down on one knee. Reaching out, he takes t
he boys’ hands and laces his fingers with theirs. “When my weekends start, we’ll go to a game or something, okay?”

  Neither Elliot nor Louis says anything. They just stare at him as they cling to my hands and lean into me. They look terrified, and it guts me. When a tear slides down my cheek, I rub my face against my shoulder so I can wipe the tears without letting go of the twins. I have been through a lot of stuff in my life, but this is by far the hardest.

  “I do love you two. Honestly. I love Charlie, guys… I love you all.”

  Their silence clearly pisses Simon off. Glancing up at me, he gives me a look of distress, but I am not helping him. I can’t. No matter how much I want to fix this for the boys, I know I can’t. This is all Simon’s decision.

  “Can you talk to them?” he begs me.

  I shrug. “I’ll talk to Charlie about respecting you, but that’s it. I won’t make them talk to you.”

  “Yeah, thanks a lot,” he says slowly as he stands. He shakes his head. “They’re playing off you.”

  “They are not,” I insist, my chin inching up. “I have been more than civil through all of this. Their anger, their hurt… All of this is brought on by you.”

  “Whatever. I was always here for them, while all you did was work. And now they don’t want to—”

  “Simon,” I snap. “This all can be discussed in mediation. Until then, do not talk about me that way. You didn’t have a problem with me until you did what you did with her. Which is fine. It’s over. But don’t disrespect me, especially when I have no intention of doing that to you.”

  “Always with a stick straight up your ass,” he mutters as he turns briskly, heading for the truck. I look down so I don’t have to watch him drive away.

  Louis is watching me. I give him a weak smile, and his eyes start to fill with tears. “Will we be okay, Mom?”

  I look into his sweet brown eyes. “Of course, honey. We’re gonna be great.”

  “You promise?” Elliot chimes in.

  I nod vigorously. “Yes, babe, it’s all good. Promise.”

  “Charlie is really mad,” Elliot informs me.

  “I know.” I reassure him, “He’ll be okay. It’s just gonna take some time to adjust.”

  Louis rubs at the tears on his cheeks. “But we’ll always have each other, right?”

  I smile. “Yes, hon. Me, you, Elliot, and Charlie. Forever.”

  They both seem satisfied with that. I look back toward Simon’s truck. I close my eyes and hold my breath. I just don’t understand. I really don’t, and this is killing me. I don’t like failing. Not in the slightest, but this… This whole situation is one big fail.

  Louis leans his head on my arm, and when Elliot follows, my heart soars. But when they squeeze my hand three times, my smile disappears and the tears return.

  Three squeezes: I love you.

  Squeezing their hands back, I lead us back into the house.

  I might have lost my husband.

  But I’ll never lose my boys.

  LINCOLN

  Clapping my hands loudly, I let out my signature child-call, which sounds like equal parts owl and banshee. That refocuses four pairs of eyes on me. Grinning at their faces, I move my pointer along the dry-erase board and point at Max.

  “To win the tutu, what letter is missing from the word sentence?” I ask.

  I emphasize each letter, hoping my enunciation will help her, but Max is the most gifted of the Ellenton children. She doesn’t need any hints, and in fact, because she is so smart, I challenge her the most.

  “All the Es.”

  I throw the tutu in the air, glitter flying from it as I let out a roar of excitement. “That is correct!”

  The kids giggle, and I put the tutu around my waist. It goes great with my feather boa and my fake diamond earrings.

  “Put your crown back on!” Minnie, the youngest of the girls, hollers.

  I steady it on my head, completing my beautiful outfit.

  “It’s tea time,” Maven informs us.

  “It is. Let’s blow this popsicle stand and head to the kitchen.” I throw my pointer down, and the girls run out of the schoolroom. Except May. She is my buddy and always waits for me.

  “Lincoln, can you help me with my paragraphs? I hate that I missed that question on the test. I should have aced it.”

  I grin down at her. Her blue eyes sparkle as I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Of course. We’ll work some extra stuff in after tea time, okay?”

  She beams up at me. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  Just as we cut through the foyer, the door opens and the boys spill in.

  “Maverick! Matthew!” I call. “Go get that smelly stuff off and get in the schoolroom. You owe me essays on the difference between baseball and cricket. I want them done before dinner.”

  They fly by me.

  “Nice tutu!” Maverick yells.

  “Goes great with your crown,” Matthew teases.

  I laugh as they run up the stairs, their stench going with them. They slam the doors, and I shake my head. Six years ago, when I started with this family, the boys were all over me. And little. Now they are both teenagers, growing into their own, and if I am honest, I don’t like it. I don’t like that any of the kids are growing up. They are all getting older, and I worry that soon they won’t need me anymore.

  I still have time, though.

  I figure at least another ten years since the girls are still under ten.

  I sit down at my spot at the tea table in the kitchen. Maven pours me a heavy glass of sweet tea. The girls mirror me in their tutus and crowns, and we continue our tea party. After taking my phone out, I snap a few pictures and send them to Mike and Sharron, the kids’ parents. They respond with emojis, which makes me smile.

  “How’s your sister?” Maven asks as she hands me a cookie.

  “She’s good. The baby should be here in a couple months.”

  “Will we get to go see it?” Minnie asks.

  I nod. “Of course. We’ll take a field trip, duh!”

  The girls giggle as we eat our cookies and drink our tea. I grew up the youngest of six and the only boy. I played with more dolls and dressed up for tea parties more than any red-blooded man would care to admit. But in a way, it helped me. I was a rough, tough lacrosse player, but because of my sisters, I knew when to be gentle. I went to college on a lacrosse scholarship, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think I could go pro, so I studied early childhood education.

  I thought teaching would be everything I wanted. But during my senior year, before I could even complete my certification, I took a job as a nanny for extra money. I thought it would be all easy shit, but I realized I was not only working, I was a part of the children’s lives. They loved me, and I loved them. When Rob, the eight-year-old, called me his manny, it stuck. I finished school and got my degree, but I didn’t pursue teaching. I stayed deep in the manny game, and I am killing it.

  Offers from families came daily, but I am loyal and stay with my family until I’m not needed anymore. The Ellenton family is my third and longest stint. When I say they are my second family, I’m not kidding. They wait for me to finish dinner with my biological family on the holidays so I can join them for theirs. Sharron and my mom are friends, and my dad loves the boys. We’re close, and I love them. All of them.

  “Lincoln, can I have another cookie?” Minnie asks, which makes me raise my brow.

  “How many have you had?”

  “Three,” she says innocently.

  “Might as well take a fourth to make your total…” I wait.

  “Even!” they say in unison.

  “That’s right!” I cheer, throwing my hands in the air.

  Man, I love my job.

  As I clean up the kitchen, I poke my head into the family room. All the kids are on the couch watching a movie. I check the time on the casserole right as the front door opens. Mike and Sharron work in the city and ride the train back to our little suburb. />
  “Hey, guys,” I say, taking the casserole out of the oven and setting it on the counter. “How was work?”

  Sharron smiles. “Work.”

  Mike nods as they go to the living room to say hi to the kids. “Hey, Linc, can you stay for dinner? Maybe after, for a drink?”

  I look away from the cabinet, a stack of plates in my hand. His tone is worrisome, but I nod nonetheless. I don’t have plans anyway. It isn’t like I am dating anyone at the moment. “Sure.”

  “Great.”

  When he doesn’t say anything more, a certain sense of dread settles in my stomach. Despite my vague sense of worry, dinner is full of laughs and storytelling. The adults retreat to the kitchen for an after-dinner whiskey while the kids go upstairs to get ready for bed. That nervous feeling returns once I’m alone with Mike and Sharron. I don’t like the way they seem to avoid looking me in the eye, and I sure as hell don’t like the feeling of guilt that swims in my chest. Did I do something wrong? Was I too hard on the boys about the essays they half-assed? Shit.

  “So, Linc, we have some bittersweet news.”

  I look from my glass to Mike. “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” He threads his fingers with Sharron’s before they both finally look at me. “I got that job in Germany.”

  My stomach sinks.

  “You did.” I barely get the words out, but I recover well. I knew he was applying—he told me about it months ago. But when I didn’t hear anything else, I assumed he hadn’t gotten it. “That’s great. Congratulations. I know you wanted this.”