Chapter Text
“Ben?” Georgia confirms when her assistant picks up his phone, talking through the hands-free dashboard hook-up as the light changes green and she accelerates through the intersection.
“Here,” he confirms. “What’s up?”
“Babysitter’s down with a migraine. With Joelle in the middle of that three-day workshop I’ve got Emmy for the day. Can you reschedule any meetings I can’t attend remotely, and move those I can to conference call? I’m on my way in to pick up that stack of applications so I can work through the candidates at home today.”
“Sure thing,” She hears the scratch of a pen on Ben’s ever-present notepad.
“I’ll check in with you when I get there. We should be there in fifteen, twenty minutes depending on traffic.”
“No problem. See you when you get here!”
She disconnects the call and glances in the rear view mirror to where Emmy is amusing herself -- for now -- strapped into her car seat with a board book.
“So it’s you and Mama today, right mija?” She asks.
“Mama!” Emmy agrees. “Em! Drive car?”
“Yup, we’re in the car. We’re going to Mama’s work -- remember Mama’s work?”
“Bean,” Emmy agrees.
“That’s right, work is where Bean is.” Emmy likes dogs -- the bigger and calmer the better -- and Bean is the most patient labrador retriever Georgia’s ever met. She lets Emmy use her as pillow and as a step-stool to climb on and off the couches in the players’ lounge.
By the time Georgia gets through Providence traffic and pulls into the parking lot, parks the car, and extracts her daughter from the car seat, it’s closer to twenty-five minutes than the hoped for fifteen. Then Emmy fusses about being carried, so they walk across the parking lot to the double glass doors of the staff entrance with the agonizingly slow fits and starts of a two-and-a-half year-old.
Ben finds Georgia while she and Emmy are still marveling at the glory of the glass doors that push open and shut without a latch. In the past several months, Emmy has developed an obsession with opening and shutting things, especially doors, which makes going in and coming out of any space an exercise in either strategic extraction and diversion or parental patience.
On the positive side, if either Georgia or Joelle needs a way to entertain the sprog all they need to do is put her in front of the swinging kitchen door or unlatch the screen door out to the back porch and it’s instant distraction.
“Hey George -- hey Emmy,” Ben says, “I left those applications on your desk George, and cancelled everything but the 3pm with Frank you were going to take by phone anyway?”
“Thanks, Ben -- you’re a wonder.”
“Eh,” he waves the praise away a usual, “ ‘s what you pay me the big bucks for, right?”
“Emmy, pumpkin, not that way--” Georgia reaches down and stops her daughter from running back out into the parking lot. “Still, I appreciate it. Have we gotten the proofs back on the those sponsorship materials for YPI? They wanted everything in by the end of the week and I want Paul to sign off. I’ll confirm with Frank today if he plans to present the awards at the gala himself, or whether he wants us to recruit one of the players.”
“I’ll check in with Amani about the proofs but I don’t think we’ve seen them. If they come in, I’ll make sure they end up on your desk.”
“Right thanks -- sorry you were on your way --” she gestures in the direction he was headed, back out toward the parking lot.
“No problem, boss -- you and Emmy have a good day! See you tomorrow?”
“If Esmé’s back on her feet, yes. I’ll be in touch if we’re still in a bind.”
Ben salutes and heads out as Georgia reaches above Emmy’s head and pushes the door all the way open to head into the building.
“Bean!” Emmy says, emphatically, when they reach the corridor that leads to the players’ lounge.
“We just need to stop by Mama’s office first, pumpkin,” Georgia responds, bending over to scoop Emmy up so they can navigate the stairs to the suite of rooms on the second second-floor where the team of general managers have their offices. But just as she does so, the door of the lounge opens and Bean pads out followed closely by Jack.
“Bean, Mama, Bean!” Emmy squeals, wriggling away from Georgia’s grasp and barrelling down the hallway at a speed Georgia would have sworn she was incapable of two weeks ago.
“Hey, whoa there,” Jack says, putting a hand out to keep Bean to heel, and dropping to his knee beside the dog.
“It’s okay,” Georgia calls, following after her daughter. “They know each other. Bean lets this little rugrat climb all over her.”
Jack kneels back, but keeps his hand on Bean’s back. The dog wags her tail at Emmy’s approach and lets Emmy bury her hands in the dog’s fur. Georgia comes up and lets Bean lick her own hand before giving the dog a scratch on the head.
“Jack, I don’t think you’ve met my daughter Emmy yet.”
“Hi Emmy,” Jack says. She’s usually shy around the players, although she’s warmed to a couple of the guys who have kids of their own. The ones who know how to get down on her level -- like Jack’s done, Georgia realizes. Which might be part of why Emmy doesn’t bury her face in Bean’s fur, like she often will when she’s not ready to interact with new people, and instead reaches her arms out in expectation of being picked up.
“Hey,” Jack says, with a smile that reaches his eyes. “You like hugs? I sometimes like hugs too.” He lifts her up and lets her balance on his folded knees.
Georgia raises and eyebrow, “You should know she doesn’t do that with just anyone.”
Jack shrugs. “Neither do I.”
Emmy puts a hand in her mouth and plops herself in Jack’s lap, looking back up at her mother for approval.
Georgia laughs. “You got a minute? I just need to run upstairs for a few files -- we’re working at home today.”
“Sure,” Jack says. “I was just going to take Bean out for a walk but -- we can wait ‘til you’re done?”
“You keep that up,” Georgia nods at where Emmy is curled, “and I might be tempted to hire you away as nanny.”
“Come back to me a month into the season and I might just take you up on it,” Jack grins.
Georgia snorts. “Right. I’m pretty sure we couldn’t afford you.”
Jack negates the point with a wave of his hand. “Friends and family rate. I used to look after my cousins when they were this age. I’d be happy to spend time with Emmy, if you and your wife need a break. Especially in the off-season, there’s a lot of time in the day, eh? I like being on my own but -- kids are easy.”
Georgia raises an eyebrow and considers her daughter and her rookie sitting there on the hallway floor.
“Says you. Wait 'til you have one of your own.”
“Mostly, I like to borrow other peoples',” Jack says, with another one of those rare, genuine smiles of his. “Then I get to give ‘em back at the end of the day.”
“Right well --” Georgia shakes her head, already thinking of how she’ll tell this story to Joelle over dinner. “I’ll be just a few minutes, if you’re sure?”
“We’re good,” Jack says, settling back against the wall as Emmy reaches out to tug at Bean’s fur. “Take whatever time you need.”