The Setup and the Substitute by Jiffy Kate

Chapter 1

Owen

Home.

The word bounces around my brain as my Uber driver brings me closer to the house I’ve lived in for the better part of a year. When we pull into the long driveway, I feel an immediate sense of peace. Wherever my kids are is home, no matter the city, but this place is growing on me.

The only thing that’s taken some time adjusting to is the New Orleans’ climate. It’s only April and already warm and humid. But just about everything else I’ve experienced has been great—especially the food.

When Lisa, my girlfriend—well, ex-girlfriend now—and mother of my children, walked out on us ten months ago, leaving chaos and upheaval after her departure, I had no idea that was just the beginning of the most trying year of my life. The seven years Lisa and I were together weren’t always a walk in the park. At the beginning of our relationship, I was in the minor league, then brought up to the majors, sent back down… up, down. That pattern followed me for years.

But it was life as we knew it.

After becoming a single father, being traded, moving hundreds of miles away from my support system, and now starting a new season with my new team, I’m struggling to find a new normal.

As the Uber driver pulls up to the curb, I add a thirty percent tip to the payment on my app before grabbing my bag and exiting the vehicle. Taking a brief look around the place, I’m relieved when everything appears to be as it should be.

The kids’ bikes are leaning against the garage door.

The flowers are blooming.

The grass has been freshly mowed.

On the outside, everything looks perfect.

But the appearance couldn’t be further from the truth.

I’m broken. My family is broken. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to put us back together.

I’ve never been afraid of hard work. It’s what got me where I am professionally and I’m hoping it’s what gets this family where it needs to be—whole, happy, and settled.

When I walk inside, the house is quiet, which I expected. It’s early in the day and Molly and Ryan are at school. Well, Molly is in kindergarten at the local elementary school and Ryan is at an early education center.

“Hello?” I call out. The Land Rover is in the driveway, so I’m assuming Marie is here.

Marie is our nanny and she’s relatively new. My mom came to New Orleans with us when we made the move and she, along with my sister, helped for as long as they could. And then, I took the off-season to spend some much-needed time with my children.

Although we've always had a nanny, this is the first time that person has been the sole caretaker while I was out of town. To say I was a nervous wreck is an understatement and it showed.

I definitely wasn’t on my A-game while we were on the road.

And that just can’t happen anymore. I need this team. I need this job. I’m now in my thirties, competing against guys who are years younger than me. After nine years in the league, I’ve been around the block a time or two and I know how this works. Eventually, if I can’t produce the heat, they’ll send my ass back to the minors, and I’m not ready to call it quits.

Not just for me, but for my kids.

Sure, I’ve made a nice living and we’re comfortable, but I definitely don’t have the biggest contract or the most security. After some rocky years with Lisa and her extravagant spending sprees, I’m finally getting a handle on the financial side of my life and I need to ride this position with the Revelers out for at least a few years, or if I can get my shit together, until I retire.

“Marie?” I call again when I make my way through the living room and kitchen and still don’t see her.

When I get to the backdoor, I realize it’s ajar and take a step into the backyard to see her pacing the pavestones that surround the garden next to the fenced-off pool. She looks stressed or upset and I’m immediately on alert.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, trying not to speak too loudly for fear of startling her. She’s an older lady and I wouldn’t want to be the cause of any unnecessary distress. Besides, she already looks like I feel… like she could use a drink. “The kids?” I ask as I get closer and she pops her head up to look at me. “Are the kids okay?”

Wringing her hands, she stops pacing and faces me. “The kids are fine.”

Thank God.

Okay.

“Is something else wrong?” I prompt, still battling the ball of worry in my gut. “You seem—”

“Tired,” she says, cutting me off and sounding exasperated. “Mr. Thatcher, I don’t think this job is for me.”

What?

No.

No, no, no, no…

“But you’re very qualified and good at what you do,” I assure her, thinking back on all the vetting I did before hiring her. She’s nannied for very influential families in the city. Not to mention, she’s friends with a teammate's mother and came highly recommended. She used to work at a Catholic school and has a background in education. She knows CPR and is a certified swimming instructor, or at least she was thirty years ago. But still… she’s fucking qualified.

Overqualified, if we’re being honest.

“The kids love you,” I continue. It’s not technically the truth, but I’m desperate here. “What can I do to make this work?”

She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head. “Mr. Thatcher, I haven’t taken care of small children in a very long time. I was with my last family for eleven years. The children were about the same age as Molly and Ryan when I was hired, but that was eleven years ago. I’m old, Mr. Thatcher… and tired.”

“If it’s the kids, I can have a talk with them. They’re going through a lot right now and it’s been hard on them… they’re still adjusting, but they’re good kids,” I tell her, knowing they can be little shits, but they’re sweet little shits. And they deserve a goddamn break.

Just like me.

We deserve a goddamn break.

“They are good kids,” she says regretfully. “And I understand that they’re going through a lot and I hate doing this to you, but it would be wrong for me to continue knowing I can’t do this for the long-haul. Trust me, this would be even harder if I get any more attached to them or they get any more attached to me.”

The two of us stand there staring at each other for a brief moment and I realize there’s no convincing her to stay. I would ask her for a two-week notice, but we’re on a trial basis—one road trip at a time. So, like she said, it’s probably better we cut ties and I get busy finding her replacement.

“I’ll make sure you get your final pay and any expenses,” I tell her, hanging my head in dejection as I rub at the tension in the back of my neck and turn on my heel to head back inside. “Thank you for taking care of them while I was away.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, following close behind. “If you’d like I can put a call in to a few people. As far as I know, most of them are currently working, but they may know someone.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, wondering how the hell I’m going to find someone I can trust them with before the next away game, which is in six days.

Six days to find a new nanny.

Fuck my life.

Once I’ve helped Marie load her car up with her suitcases and few belongings, I stand in the driveway and wave as my one-woman support system in New Orleans drives down the street.

Glancing at my watch, I realize it’s time for someone to pick up the kids from school and since Marie is gone, I’m the only someone once again.

The last thing I need is to be late and have to deal with that guilt, so I lock up the house and jump in the Land Rover.