Such Great Heights - Sydney Logan Page 0,6
as a child, but it did happen occasionally. “But I don’t think that’s appropriate here. You don’t hit someone to punish them for hitting someone else. That’s hypocritical, I think.”
Mr. Healey nods thoughtfully while Ryder continues to play. This time, the familiar notes of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star flow from the piano. The stark contrast between the classical piece he was playing earlier and this simple kids’ song tugs at my heartstrings. Somewhere deep inside the little monster is a child who’s missing his mom and in desperate need of just being a kid. But he also needs to learn that hurting another person is wrong, and it’s a lesson he needs to learn immediately.
“Does Ryder have a favorite activity? Something he'd miss if it was taken away?”
Mr. Healey's eyes search mine. The answer is ridiculously simple, but is the emotional outburst worth it? We both nod in unison, and I steel myself for the tantrum that’s sure to come. Very slowly, we both walk over to the piano. Mr. Healey gently removes Ryder’s hands from the piano and holds them tightly while I slowly pull the cover down over the keys.
“Hey!”
“No more piano,” Mr. Healey says calmly.
“Why not?” The little boy’s heartbroken voice pierces my soul. Then suddenly, his furious gaze locks on me. “You did this! I’m mad at you!”
During my student teaching, I’d been yelled at by some of the rowdiest kids I’ve ever met. This little blue-eyed boy can’t scare me.
Much.
“Tell him why he’s being punished, Mr. Healey.”
He clears his throat. “You hurt Mrs. Langham, and you did it on purpose. No more piano for . . . ”
Mr. Healey searches my face for a number.
“Seven days.”
I don’t know why I chose a week. Anything less doesn’t seem like enough. I mean, the kid probably broke the woman’s fingers. He has to be punished.
“Seven days. Ryder, do you understand?”
Ryder ignores his dad as he struggles to lift the piano cover. I firmly hold it down, and in a fit of frustration, the kid starts to kick me.
“Stop, Ryder.” I’m glad my voice sounds firm and brave because I’m anything but. While I’ve been yelled at, I can’t remember a kid actually kicking me.
“That’s enough!”
Mr. Healey lifts his son off the bench and carries him—kicking and screaming—to his bedroom. I jump out of my skin when the door slams shut.
I bury my face in my hands.
That’s it. I am soooo out of here.
“You did very well, Olivia.”
I look up to find Hazel standing next to the couch. With a heavy sigh, I sit down on the piano bench. She must sense I’m in need of a hug, because she joins me and wraps her arm around my shoulder.
“The violent tendencies are new. Neither Jackson nor I are very good at handling them. You were very good with him.”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this, Hazel.”
“There’s no shame in that. As you know, many have tried.” She smiles sadly and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “He’s never been violent toward me, and for that, I’m grateful. But who knows if it will last. I know it’s hard to imagine, but he really is a sweet boy.”
“But he has to follow rules or face the consequences. Otherwise—”
“He’ll be a juvenile delinquent someday. I know.” Hazel sighs softly. “Mrs. Healey had rules, but none that were age appropriate, if that makes sense. As long as he was in his room, with his toys in the box and his books alphabetized, she was happy to ignore everything else. She expected him to be this little adult. Mrs. Healey wasn’t the best mother, but she was still his mother, and now she’s gone. He doesn’t know why and has no idea how to handle it. It doesn’t help that strangers are coming in and out of his life, and he’s running them off before they’ve barely had the chance to unpack.”
“I’m not running.”
Yet.
Hazel smiles. “I’m glad. You’re already my favorite nanny.”
I laugh lightly. “That’s not really saying much.”
“Oh, but it is. You’re so patient, Olivia. That’s a quality the other nannies didn’t have. I don’t blame them for leaving. I just wish they’d tried a little harder. But maybe there’s a reason the others didn’t work out. I see a lot of potential in you. You could be so good for Ryder . . . and for Jackson. He’s lost, too, and he needs help. He needs a friend.”
She speaks of Mr. Healey with so much love that I have to