Her eyes pinned his. Perhaps it was his own ignorance on the issue, but Esa felt as if she were challenging him, waiting for him to dispute some aspects of her job. She needn’t have worried.
“How much do you want?”
Michelle looked uncomfortable. “There’s usually a ballpark—”
“How much do you want?” Esa repeated, trying not to sound desperate. “Look, you’re doing an extraordinary thing, helping us out on such short notice. I want to show you my gratitude.”
“Fifteen hundred dollars a week,” Michelle said, quoting a price even higher than she was earning with the Karles. “Plus all of the expenses I incur caring for Nell.”
“Done,” Esa said, immediately feeling lighter.
“I’d love to meet Nell.”
“No problem.”
Michelle got up from the kitchen table, expecting Esa to do the same. But he didn’t move. “Aren’t you coming with me?”
Esa looked bewildered as he took another sip of coffee. “Why?”
Michelle stared down at the kitchen floor. She needed a moment to collect herself before answering his asinine question. Finally she raised her head to answer, “To introduce us? So you can observe whether Nell and I are a good fit?”
Michelle couldn’t decide whether Esa was unruffled or uncaring when he murmured, “I’m sure the two of you will get along fine. Her room is down the hall on the left.” He gave her a small smile and started reading the paper.
Run, Michelle’s instincts told her. Don’t take this job no matter how much he’ll pay. Run far and fast. This guy’s a selfish, unfeeling idiot. Which, unfortunately, was all the more reason to take the position. No little girl should have this putz as her primary caregiver.
* * *
Michelle put her ear to Nell’s bedroom door, knocking lightly. It was important to respect children’s privacy, especially in a situation like this, where the kid didn’t know you. Michelle didn’t want to overwhelm Nell or put her immediately on guard.
She heard a small voice pip “Come in,” so she slowly opened the door. Michelle could tell that Nell had been on her stomach, reading, but was in the process of sitting up now that Michelle had entered the room. Polite, Michelle thought.
The first thing that struck Michelle was how gorgeous the little girl was, with gleaming blond hair and big blue eyes that were big enough to contain more than their share of pain. Not a trace of her uncle in her looks.
Michelle introduced herself with a small smile. “Hi, Nell. Is it okay if I come sit on the edge of your bed?”
Nell nodded.
Michelle approached the bed and sat down quietly, extending her hand. “I’m Michelle.”
Nell shook her hand, though she did look mildly apprehensive. “My name is Nell.”
Michelle cocked her head thoughtfully. “I know. I like that name. You don’t hear it very often.” She glanced at the book Nell was clutching in her hand, holding it as tightly as another child might hold a security blanket. “What’re you reading?”
“Little Women,” Nell answered reluctantly.
Michelle lit up. “I love that book! Who’s your favorite March sister? Mine was Meg.”
“I like Jo,” said Nell, her clutch on the book loosening a bit.
“How come?”
“Because she has adventures. And no one tells her what to do.” Nell looked at her shyly. “Why do you like Meg?”
Michelle sighed. “Oh, because she was beautiful. I was a little envious of her. I was kind of envious of them all, you know? Because I don’t have any sisters.”
“Me, neither.”
“I do have a brother, though, named Jamie.”
“My friend Casey has two brothers,” Nell shared tentatively. “Nigel and David. David plays football and Nigel is a trainspotter.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Their room smells.”
Michelle laughed. “Are they teenagers?”
“Kind of. Yeah.”
“Teenage boys aren’t always the best with hygiene.”
Michelle scootched a tiny bit closer to her. “Do you know who I am?”
Nell looked at her blankly. “One of Uncle Esa’s girlfriends?”
“No. I’m going to be your nanny! Didn’t your uncle tell you I’d be coming here to meet you guys today?”
Nell shook her head. “No.” Michelle had been here less than half an hour and already she was making a mental note to tell her new employer that you couldn’t just spring stuff like this on kids, especially a kid in Nell’s situation. What a jerk.
“Ever had a nanny before?”
Nell’s expression turned wary. “No.”
“But I bet you know people who have.”
“Yes. My best friend Caro Moore, had a nanny.”
“What was she like?”
“Lovely. She baked biscuits with us and all sorts of things.”
“There’s no reason why we can’t bake biscuits.”
Now she was talking Nell’s language. “Honest?”
“Yeah! I’m moving in to take care of you. You’ll probably get sick of me!”
Nell looked down at her bed, her index finger slowly tracing the spiral patterns covering the quilt. “I won’t get sick of you,” she said quietly.
“We’ll have to help each other out and get used to each other,” Michelle continued kindly.
“Okay.” Nell’s finger was still following the quilt’s designs.
Michelle tapped her fingers on the bed. “You know, I was just thinking about your friend Caro. You miss her, right?” Nell nodded sadly. “Well, there’s no reason why you can’t call her.” Maybe even have her visit some time. God knows your uncle has the money to spring for plane fare.
Nell was pop-eyed. “Really?”
“Why not?”
“I’d like that.”
“Now,” Michelle began cheerfully. “I’ll be moving in tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, could you do me a big favor?”
“What?”
“Could you make me a list of foods you love and hate? And all the stuff you like to do: dancing, writing, anything.”
Nell looked thrilled.
Michelle leaned in close, as if imparting a secret. “Do you like nail polish?”
Nell looked at a loss for words. “I guess. I’ve never worn any.”
“I thought it might be fun if tomorrow night, after I’m all moved in, we paint our fingernails and our toenails. What do you think?”
Nell nodded avidly. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“Oh yeah,” Michelle agreed, as if it were a foregone conclusion. “It’ll be great.”
“Thank you,” Nell said politely.
“You don’t need to thank me.” Michelle stood. “I’m going to leave my telephone number for you on the kitchen counter, okay? That way you can call me if you need me between now and tomorrow.” She smiled at Nell. “I think we’ll do okay together, don’t you?”
Nell’s fingers stopped tracing the quilt. “Yes.”
“I’ll let you get back to your reading. See you tomorrow.”
* * *
“How did it go?”
Esa looked up from the sports pages of the Sentinel as Michelle reentered the kitchen. He’d actually been feeling anxious about her meeting his niece. What if Michelle didn’t think she and Nell were a “good fit”? If you’re being paid enough, he reasoned irritably, shouldn’t you be able to make things fit? Well, in any case, he couldn’t imagine anyone not liking Nell.
“It went well,” Michelle reported. “She’s a sweetie.”
“Shy, I know, but I think once she gets to know you . . .” He swallowed uneasily. “She’s been through a lot.”
“I know. I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”
Michelle’s promise prompted a painful moment of self-examination. Had he himself said that to Leslie before taking Nell? Had he even told Nell herself he’d take good care of her? He did remember telling her not to be scared. It seemed enough at the tim
e.
“Do you need any help moving tomorrow?” he asked her. “I can rent a small moving van.”
Michelle waved the idea away. “No need. My brother has a truck. I don’t have that much stuff, anyway.”
“Travel light?”
“You have to in my line of work.”
“I promise you that by Monday morning, you’ll have your own TV in your room. Also, towels, sheets, and such. If you want to make a list and call me with some items you need, I can make sure they’re here.”
“Thank you.” Michelle glanced once more around the kitchen admiringly before looking back to Esa. “I think that’s it. Is there anything else you want to ask me?”
Esa hesitated. “Yes. A favor.”
Michelle was puzzled. “Okay.”
“Would it be possible for you to unofficially start your job tonight? I have a date, and—”
Michelle laughed curtly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Why?”
“I’m not here at your beck and call. I thought that was established. I have a life of my own, and I plan on keeping it that way.”
Esa was taken aback. “I just thought—”
“That since I agreed to be her nanny, you were free from all childcare responsibilities?”
Esa was embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” But inside, he was irked.
I’m allowed to have a life, too, he thought. That’s one of the reasons you’ve been hired.
“Apology accepted.”
His miscalculation prompted a shift in Michelle’s behavior: she was now all business. “I’ll bring over a standard contract tomorrow for us to both go over and sign, if the terms are amenable to you. It’ll lay out the duties we spoke of earlier, and some fine details we need to work out.”
Esa rubbed his eyes. “That’s fine.”
“Anything else?”
“Obviously I’ll cancel my date tonight,” Esa muttered. “Nell and I can stay in and watch a movie.”
“See? How hard was that?”
Harder than you know, Esa thought. The woman I was going to go out with is smokin’.
“What are you two doing the rest of the day?”
“I don’t know.” The idea of the hours, stretched out before him, made Esa queasy. “It’s so hot outside . . . maybe I’ll rent a car and take her to the beach.”
“That sounds great.” Michelle paused. “Does she have a bathing suit?”
“I don’t know.”
Michelle’s expression changed once again; this time she was looking at him with pity. If anyone else dared look at him like that, he’d kill them dead with viper sharp words within seconds. But in this case, the look was warranted: he was pitiful.
“How about this,” Michelle said helpfully. “For today, take her to the movies. On Monday, she and I will go through her closet and we’ll figure out what she needs. Give me a budget and I’ll take her shopping.”
Sweet relief. Esa had actually been worrying about whether he’d need to take Nell shopping for clothes. She seemed to have a lot, but what did he know? “That sounds like a good idea. Don’t worry about a budget. Just get her what she needs.” He paused. “And whatever she wants.”
Michelle looked like she was going to say something, but she didn’t. An uncomfortable moment passed as she prepared to leave. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, then.”
“Any idea what time?”
“Is four okay?”
“Four is fine,” he replied, walking her to the front door. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” Michelle smiled politely. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too—I mean, I’m sure Nell is.”
“I know what you meant.”
Esa closed the door, experiencing an odd mixture of relief and apprehension. Clearly, Michelle Beck was competent, but she seemed to have an awful lot of demands and requirements. He should have taken care of business when he had the time. Because now, he had one more thing to worry about: suppose he’d picked the wrong nanny?
6
Michelle couldn’t stop thinking about Nell as she rode the Number Seven Subway out to her dad’s place in Woodside. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Esa she was looking forward to taking care of the smart, shy, slightly dubious little girl; she was. Michelle knew that it was going to take Nell some time to trust her. She felt there had already been a few moments when Nell was on the verge of letting her guard down. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. The minute Theresa told her about Nell’s circumstances, Michelle felt an immediate connection with her. When Michelle’s own mother had died, she still had her dad and brother. As far as she could tell, the only one Nell had was her clueless uncle, Esa.
Michelle reminded herself to cut him some slack. He’d suffered a huge loss, too, and it couldn’t be easy to be a single professional athlete, and wake up one day and find yourself responsible for a little girl. Yet Esa’s nonchalant attitude was making it tough for Michelle to feel sympathetic. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was racing through his mind during their meeting: Just make this problem go away. I don’t know how to deal with it, and I don’t want to.
Lost in her thoughts, Michelle almost missed her stop. There were a lot of blanks that still needed filling in. She especially wanted to talk to “Aunt Leslie” to find out all she could about Nell. And, of course, there was everything else: packing, moving, unpacking, getting acclimated, getting Nell acclimated, going over the ground rules with Esa Saari. The next forty-eight hours were going to be pressure filled, but Michelle was ready for it. It was, after all, what she’d signed on for.
A sense of optimism and anticipation gave a bounce to Michelle’s step as she walked the seven blocks from the subway stop to her dad’s place. She did some of her best thinking while walking through Woodside. A cynic might say that was because there was nothing interesting to see in the neighborhood. Okay, so maybe there weren’t any grand, historical buildings here worth preserving. And yeah, most of the houses and apartment buildings looked like they’d seen better days. And unlike nearby Flushing with the National Tennis Center and the old World’s Fair grounds, there weren’t many parks or interesting public spaces. But Woodside was a good place to have grown up in. It was just a solid, working-class community. No pretensions, just lots of people from all different backgrounds and ways of life quietly living together. Woodside had never been gentrified, and probably never would be. No one had ever accused it of being trendy. But Michelle liked that recent arrivals added some spice to the neighborhood. Now you could get any kind of cuisine you were in the mood for. Indian for lunch? Ethiopian for dinner? A Greek cheese pie for dinner? It was all there, along with the V & V, the best bakery in the world.
As she walked up Roosevelt Avenue, Michelle texted her brother, Jamie, making sure he was home and not at the firehouse. Jamie’s marriage had blown up seven months earlier. His ex couldn’t handle the possibility that when she kissed her husband good-bye before he went off to work each day, it might be the last time she’d ever see him alive. Michelle still felt badly for her brother, but her father’s reservoir of sympathy seemed to be running out. He’d been complaining that Jamie wasn’t looking too hard for new digs.
When she walked in the door she saw her brother, all six feet two inches of him, stretched out on the couch, his thin legs dangling over the side. Michelle gave him a kiss on the forehead. “When’d you get home?”
“A little while ago.” Jamie eyed her suspiciously. “Why’d you text me? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just need your help with something. Where’s Dad?”
“Shopping, I think. He should be back any minute.”
Michelle grabbed that day’s Sentinel from her brother’s chest and started fanning herself, flopping down in her dad’s favorite recliner. “Jesus, Jame. Could you turn up the air conditioning a little?”
“Dad likes it low. He gets cold now, remember?”
“He’s che
ap, you mean.”
Jamie grinned. “Yeah, that, too.”
Growing up, Michelle’s girlfriends never failed to remark on how cute Jamie was, which always made her want to heave. But once she and Jamie were older, she could see the reasons for their infatuation: his velvety chocolate eyes, his sweet smile. Since his mood seemed okay, she decided to act on her dad’s nudging and pop the real estate question.
“How’s the apartment hunting going?”
“Goin’ okay,” Jamie said evasively. “You know what it’s like. Besides, I don’t think I should leave. Someone has to be here to look after Dad.”
Michelle stopped fanning herself. “Not this again.”
Jamie had gotten it into his head that their father needed “looking after”—their father, the toughest son of a bitch to ever wield a Halligan at Engine 32—when he’d retired two years ago, after forty-five of breaking his back. Jamie was delusional: their father was as robust as ever. What pissed Michelle off was Jamie’s presumption that if their father did need “taking care of,” she should be the one to do it.
“Michelle.”
“Jamie. He’s not even sixty-five yet. He still goes down to the firehouse and hangs out. He still has his poker night. He still goes to see the Mets and the Islanders. Just because he retired doesn’t mean he’s turned into some feeble old man overnight.”
“I see him slowing down. You don’t.”
“And you live here, and I don’t. What would you like me to do about it?”
Jamie looked to be preparing a comeback, but he let it drop. Good thing, too. Michelle didn’t want to point out that she’d been the de facto “caretaker” for both him and their dad after their mom died. There had been times her dad leaned on her heavily, maybe a little bit too much, considering she was a child. Part of the problem was, he didn’t know how to deal with a little girl’s grief. He tried, but he couldn’t. And so Michelle figured out a way to go it alone. She wasn’t going to let that happen to Nell.
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