“How sweet! You’ve got a little nanny, a tutor, and a chef all rolled into one,” Sharon said. “And you’ve got me! Aren’t you lucky!”

“I am,” he said.

I thought I was going to die.

“I’m just going to go watch the game now,” I said.

I was thoroughly disgusted. But now that I had a clear picture, I had another problem. Sharon’s behavior made me realize how much I cared about Archie. I could see he was heading toward something serious with her. I really, and I mean really, did not want this condescending, arrogant, awful woman to be front and center in Archie’s life and most certainly did not want her in the boys’ life, either. At all.

I got to the living room reasonably composed, or so I thought, and sat on the sofa in between the boys. They were completely engrossed with the game. But in moments, Tyler sensed that I was seething.

“Was I right?” he said.

I wasn’t about to engage in gossip with a seven-year-old boy about the woman who might become his stepmother, but I was sorely tempted.

I just said, “Tyler, these things are hard to figure out sometimes.”

And he nodded his head in solemn agreement. A simple answer satisfied him. He knew me well enough, even from where he stood in his young years, to know that I agreed with him. His instincts were excellent. There was nothing to be done about Archie and Sharon. It was going to have to play itself out. I was, after all, the nanny, the cook, the tutor, and nothing more.

Archie and Sharon made an appearance in the living room and soon retreated back to the kitchen where they could talk and be alone. Apparently, Sharon wasn’t much of a Lakers fan or a sports enthusiast. I didn’t live and die for ball games either, but I loved the occasional basketball game because it was fast and exciting and you could see the faces of the players.

I stayed until the third quarter, when it became clear the Lakers were wiping the floor with Atlanta. I gave the boys a hug and stuck my nose in the kitchen to sign off with Archie and to semi-acknowledge Sharon’s prowess.

As I walked home, I knew in my heart that I was no threat to Sharon. And that hurt. Archie was as good as married, and I was going to have that hateful woman as my next-door neighbor forever. And the boys? Oh, this was going to be bad.

Leslie was waiting up for me.

“Glass of vino?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said. “This is getting to be a habit.”

She poured me a glass and put it in front of me.

“These are stressful times,” she said.

“Cheers,” I said. “I owe you twenty dollars.”

“Cheers. Figures. How did it go?” she asked quietly because my face probably said it all.