Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

Canyon

It feels like I've done nothing in the last week except play hockey and work on the schedule for the two new nannies. Colleen is middle-aged and funny, with an infectious laugh and four adult children. She'll be handling the daily necessities, like picking Ally up from school, feeding her when I have meetings, games, or extended practices, doing homework with her, or any other activities that come up.

Marjorie is the overnight nanny, who'll be staying with her when I'm traveling. She's older than Colleen, and a little more austere than I'd like, but Ally can probably use the structure, and I don't have many choices. I've been interviewing and going over resumes for weeks, so it was time to make a decision.

Ally doesn't like either of them, but she's going to have to adapt. The fact of the matter is, she doesn't like anyone except Stevie and Luna the kitten. Who's turning into a little fucking terror. I've already had a pair of shoes destroyed and she scratched my leather couch, so now we keep her locked in Ally's room when we're not home because I really don't want her to destroy anything else.

I've also been down to Ally's school multiple times.

The first time they blew me off, telling me preteen girls often find it difficult to fit in at a new school, but things would settle down. They also pointed out that they couldn't stop the kids from going online to find out whatever information is out there. However, when Ally came home from school crying again, I went back and put my foot down. The trouble is no one knows how to fix this. Bullying and mean girls have existed for much longer than I've been alive. The school is aware that there's an issue, but they need to see it happening before they can act, and I understand that.

I just don't like it.

And Ally is pissed off at the world.

She dislikes my condo, hates the new nannies, and despises school. She still doesn't like Saylor, and I'm pretty far down on her list too. Especially after telling her I'm not willing or able to home school her.

Overall, I never know what I'm going to wake up to every day and the only time I have any peace is at hockey. I haven't even been able to see Saylor because our schedules haven't meshed.

She's been busier than normal too, and I fucking hate it.

I'm in the car on the way to pick up Ally from school when I see Saylor's name on the screen of my phone, and I put her on speaker.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Hey." She sounds a little funny and I wonder if she's already tired of my shit.

"Whatcha doin'?" I ask her.

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Would you be able to come to New York for a special event on April second?"

"I'm driving right now so I don't have my calendar open, but I think I'm on a road trip."

"I know, but it's a night off between cities. Harper's giving everyone permission to travel from New York to Montreal on your own, not with the team. It's Stevie's first fashion show since the accident. And we're all walking in it with her."

"You're walking in a fashion show? I thought you hated those?"

"I don't hate them, they're just not my favorite. But Alexa Humboldt is one of my favorite designers, so I'd do this one for her regardless. And anyway… this one is kind of special."

"How come?"

"Because I've decided to officially retire from modeling."

"Yeah? Are you sure you're ready?"

"I am. I've done almost none in the last year, and I want to focus on my art. I'm out of paintings at the gallery, and I just want to sit home and paint. Teach some classes. Maybe do some acting work if it comes up, but I feel like the modeling part of my life is over. I'll be thirty-two on Christmas?—"

"You're a Christmas baby?" I ask in surprise. "How did I not know that?"

"I don't know when your birthday is either."

"January first."

"So Christmas and New Year's. That's kind of fun. We could come up with all kinds of holiday shenanigans."

"We can. Too bad we can't get up to some shenanigans right now."

"You on your way to pick up Ally?"

"Yeah."

"It's okay. I have fifty things going on anyway. I just wanted to call to see if you would come to the show."

"If Harper's pre-emptively gotten us permission, then I'll be there. I'm excited to see you doing your thing. And be there to support Stevie too. She's gone out of her way for Ally and me, so I'd like to do something nice for her."

"Bailey's doing the show too. She's stepping way out of her comfort zone, so it's going to be a big night. And a lot of your teammates will be there. It should be a lot of fun."

"That all sounds great." I pull into the school pick-up line. "Well, I'm in the pick-up line. Will you text me the details so I can add them to my calendar?"

"Of course." She hesitates. "By the way, there's been more vandalism at the gallery."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it was outside this time, so really not a big deal but Rage came right away and checked everything out."

"And? Is it the same guy?"

"We don't know. The cops are doing another investigation."

She's lying.

I can hear it in her voice, but before I can ask anything else?—

"Uncle Canyon!" Ally throws open the door and jumps in, obviously excited about something. "Guess what?—"

"Hi, Ally." Saylor calls out. "How was your day?"

Ally's face falls, her good mood evaporating. "Are you on the phone?"

"Yes. Talking to Saylor. Be polite, Ally."

She huffs. "Hi. My day was fine."

There's an awkward silence that I don't know how to fill.

"Well, I'll let you go," Saylor says in a chirpy little voice I know is her trying to cover her frustration.

She really has been a saint when it comes to how Ally treats her.

"I'll call you later, babe," I say before disconnecting. I glance over at my niece. "What's going on with you? Why don't you like Saylor?"

"I don't know," she mumbles.

"There has to be a reason."

"I don't have to like her just because you're dating her."

I sigh.

It's a circular conversation that never goes anywhere.

Time to bring this up in therapy.

Again.

"So, what were you excited about when you got in the car?"

"There's a father-daughter dance in two weeks! I asked the teacher and she uncles and nieces could go too."

"What's the date?" I ask.

"The second."

Of course.

A father-daughter dance on the second.

Why would it be on any other day but the one where I absolutely can't be there?

"I'm on a road trip," I say softly.

Her face falls again.

I really hate disappointing her, but what can I do? Even if Saylor didn't have her fashion show that night, I would be in New York or New Jersey or something anyway. I wouldn't be able to fly back to L.A. for one day.

"This is my life," I say after a moment. "I know it's frustrating. Sometimes it's frustrating for me too, but it's how I make a living."

She sighs. "I know."

"I'm sorry. Really."

"They'll just make fun of me again."

"I thought they were being a little nicer this week?"

"Kinda. Rhea said she was sorry, that Candy and Layla were just kind of jealous that Rhea and I got to be friends so fast. But now they're not as jealous anymore. And Mindy is my lab partner for science now, and she's being nice because I'm good at it."

"Don't let her use you," I caution.

"I don't care. I'm really good at science and Mindy isn't. If I help her bring up her grade, she'll owe me."

I grimace.

Is that what the world is like for an eleven-year-old now? Where she has to barter schoolwork for friends? I'm way out of my league with this, and sometimes it's hard to know what I'm supposed to say.

"I just don't want you to sell your soul," I say. "I know you want to fit in and make friends, but make sure you make real friends. Friends who just use you because you're smart and can get them an A aren't the people you want to hang out with."

"Maybe." She shrugs. "But it's better than getting picked on and being called the crack whore's daughter."

Another conversation that makes me uncomfortable.

But I'm not going to let a bunch of spoiled private school brats talk shit about someone they never met and don't know anything about.

"Look, your mother wasn't perfect, but she wasn't that either. Don't let anyone try to say she was. She was an addict. Addiction is a disease. If you want to talk about that more in therapy, we can, but that word— whore —is ugly and I don't want you to use it. I mean, if you stub your toe and that's your curse word of choice in the moment, I'm okay with it, but not in everyday conversation."

For some reason, that makes her giggle.

"Ow! My toe. Stupid whore."

And for the first time since she moved in, we laugh together.