A single phone call from my son’s teacher turned my world upside down. I’m Maria, 35, married to Tony, 38. We met in culinary school, united by our Italian roots and passion for cooking. After graduating, we opened a small restaurant, tied the knot, and had our son, Nico. When Nico started daycare, our restaurant took off, fueled by rave social media reviews. The long hours made it hard to manage parenting, so we decided to hire help. “We need someone for Nico and the house,” I told Tony. Our neighbor’s daughter, Sophie, seemed like a good fit since she was always around. “Nico’s a sweet, quiet kid,” Tony told her. “Just keep him happy and safe.”
With Sophie picking Nico up from daycare, I felt at ease, knowing he wasn’t stuck waiting for us. Our restaurant was booming, with bookings weeks out, but we got home late, around 9 p.m., when Nico was already heading to bed. He never said anything bad about Sophie, but we barely saw him awake. A week later, Nico’s daycare teacher, Mrs. Linda, called with alarming news. “Maria, I hate to worry you, but Nico cries every time Sophie picks him up, even on good days. It’s happened three times this week,” she said. I was stunned. Nico was a joyful kid, always smiling, even when we were late. Something was wrong.
Maybe he just misses us, I thought, since we only saw him briefly each day. I told Tony about the call, and we agreed to talk to Nico and Sophie calmly. That night, as I tucked Nico in, I asked, “How’s daycare, sweetie?” He lit up. “It’s great! I play with my friends, Max and Leo, and Mrs. Linda is so kind.” But when I asked about Sophie, he shrugged. “She’s fine,” he said quietly. My gut told me he wasn’t being honest. The next morning, I called Sophie. “Mrs. Linda says Nico cries when you pick him up. What’s going on?” I asked. “He probably misses you,” she said dismissively. “He’ll adjust.”
Her response didn’t feel right, and I was restless all day. Tony noticed and agreed we should follow Sophie and Nico after daycare to check things out. The next day, we left the restaurant to our manager and watched from a distance. Nico was playing happily when Sophie grabbed him. “Can we stay a bit?” he pleaded. “No, let’s go,” she snapped. Tony whispered, “That’s too harsh.” We followed them home and saw Nico alone in the yard, looking sad, while Sophie was inside, recording herself trying on clothes. “She’s ignoring him,” I said, my heart sinking.
We drove up, hugged Nico, and confronted Sophie. She had no excuse and left after Tony fired her. I thanked Mrs. Linda, who said, “I know some great nannies if you need help.” Soon, we hired Carla, a professional nanny. She cost more, but Nico’s safety came first. I checked with Mrs. Linda regularly and asked Nico about Carla. “She’s the best!” he said, grinning. “She plays with us after school.” One night, Carla brought Nico to the restaurant, and it became a tradition to share a meal together after closing. Mrs. Linda’s call and our instincts saved Nico from neglect, and Carla brought back his smile. Now, we’ve found a way to balance work and family, keeping Nico close.