Let's Pretend This Will Work by Maddie Dawson

Author:Maddie Dawson [Dawson, Maddie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

It requires a meeting, of course. You don’t just get to be the director/coordinator/leader of the Children’s Sometimes Cooperative Daycare (or whatever the hell the name is; no one seems to really know) without having to show up and explain that you’re a good person and that you love everything about the daycare and that you’re sorry you couldn’t consult anyone first, but you were on the spot. If it doesn’t work out, I’m totally explaining that Jamie thought it was a great idea. They love Jamie.

They’re grateful, as it turns out. It’s probably just as well that Jerome didn’t attend this meeting, because he’s the one who probably would find some objection with the daycare simply capitulating to “the man,” Joyous tells me with a laugh. But he is not here—he’s away on business in New York. (“What? Is there something going on in the rabble-rousing business?” whispers Emily.) Coincidentally Katherine is also away, but I am not noticing that tonight.

As for the rest of them, they’ve known for some time they had to hire somebody; they were just procrastinating while they half-heartedly searched for the right person. And it seems that I am that right person, sent from who knows where.

“You even have experience teaching,” says Emily. “And best of all, you live upstairs, so you’ll never be late.”

“No, best of all is that I adore all of you,” I tell her. “As far as my teaching experience—um, I was teaching teenagers about Shakespeare and how to put on a play when no one knew their lines. So not that many incidents of biting. And hardly anyone ever needed their mommy.”

“I’m sure they did, but they couldn’t admit it,” Jamie says with a smile. “Don’t we all need our mommies?”

“I think it’s probably best if around here, we don’t call you the director,” says Michael. “It sounds kind of authoritarian.”

“Right. For goodness’ sake, I won’t be directing anybody,” I say.

They go back and forth. Should I be known as the leader? The coordinator? The grand pooh-bah? Maybe the queen? I tell them, shyly, that I have always wanted to be the queen of something.

But then Emily says, “How about she gets to be the octopus. They’re smart, they’re cute, and they have eight arms, which is just about the right amount for this job.”

So that’s it. I’m officially the daycare octopus.

It is agreed that I will work six hours a day, five days a week—from the opening at nine a.m. until three—and I’ll be paid enough to cover my rent and buy food, and with luck, I can pay the utilities most months.

As we’re all packing up to leave, I say the thing I should have mentioned in the first place. “We still do need to do those things the State wants, or else they’re going to shut us down. Just hiring an octopus isn’t going to keep them quiet.”

No one hears me. They’re already gathering themselves to go out into the night. Joyous comes over and hugs me, and Michael gives me a peck on the cheek.

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