Free Slice by William Patterson

rejections, the heartbreak, the scandals. So the nanny understood all too well the difficulties Jessie would face meeting everyone today.
    â€œAs well as can be expected,” Jessie said, with a small laugh.
    She looked at the little redheaded boy with freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He was attempting to swing as high as his older sister but without much success. His face was flushed and his teeth were gritted.
    Inga seemed to intuit Jessie’s thoughts.
    â€œNot the same kid,” she said. “Not the one who was up here the other day.”
    Ashton’s big green eyes made contact with Jessie’s. She looked away.
    â€œMommy,” Abby said, tugging on Jessie’s khaki shorts. “When can I have a turn on the swings?”
    â€œThese are our guests, sweetie. Let them swing first. I’m sure they’ll give you a turn soon.”
    â€œNo, I won’t,” said the little girl, Piper. “I am going to swing all day. Ashton can give her his swing, since he keeps losing to me anyhow.”
    â€œI’m not getting off, either,” Ashton shouted. “I am going to beat you, Piper. You’ll see!”
    â€œFive more minutes and one of you is giving Abby a turn,” Jessie told them. “These are her swings, after all.”
    â€œI’ll make sure they do,” Inga said, giving Jessie a wink.
    Jessie tousled Abby’s hair and started back across the yard before Inga stopped her.
    â€œRemember the crap you’ve been through, Jessie,” the nanny told her. “You got through all of that. And you’ll get through today, too.”
    Jessie gave her a smile and a thumbs-up.
    Aunt Paulette was passing around a tray of cheese and crackers among the guests. “Everyone keeps saying how pretty you look,” she whispered as Jessie passed.
    Dear Aunt Paulette. She made Jessie think of Mom, and that was a good thing.
    â€œWhen are we going to get the house tour?” Gert Gorin was asking as Jessie approached.
    â€œWell, come along now then,” Jessie replied. “There’s not a lot to show, but you can see what there is to see.”
    The Gorins and Mr. Thayer followed her into the house. She took them through the kitchen, instructing them to step over the paint cans and containers of spackle, and then up the stairs, where hours of scrubbing and vacuuming had left the wood floors shining and the windows sparkling in the afternoon sun. Jessie noticed Gert Gorin’s eagle eyes taking in everything, her inquisitive mind soaking it all up.
    â€œWhere does the nanny sleep?” Gert wanted to know.
    â€œHer room’s down the hall,” Jessie replied.
    â€œMmhmm,” Gert said, looking away.
    Jessie glanced out the window down at the guests. She was glad to see that Abby had finally gotten onto the swing set, but she sat by herself. The other two kids were chasing each other in circles through the grass. Inga had moved over to the grill, where she was lighting the charcoal. It was an old-fashioned grill, no gas, no instant charcoal. It would take a while for the briquettes to get hot enough for cooking. Monica and Todd and Heather and Bryan were still together, the women largely silent as the two men spoke about something—something boring and corporate, Jessie was sure. She had no doubt they were constantly trying to one-up each other. Aunt Paulette still flitted among them all with her platter of cheese.
    Jessie was about to look away from the window when she spotted something else. A man was walking through the bushes at the far end of the yard toward the house. From up here Jessie couldn’t make out what the man looked like. But he seemed tall and dark. He walked slowly, carefully, deliberately.
    It could only be John Manning.
    So their famous neighbor had decided to grace them with his presence after all.
    Jessie hurriedly finished the tour so she could get back outside and greet her