Hip Check

by Deirdre Martin

  “Thought so. How about we see what kind of stuff we have for dinner later—what time do you and your uncle eat dinner?”

  Nell shrugged. “Whenever.”

  Michelle took a deep breath. “Let’s go in the kitchen and try to figure out a regular dinnertime for you and me and some other stuff we need to get settled, okay? And then we’ll do our nails.”

  “And toenails! Don’t forget!”

  “That goes without saying.”

  A lot of things seemed to go without saying. But not for long.

  8

  “Esa Saari? Lord-a-me, girl, you are one lucky bee-yotch.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes at her friend, Marcus. The two of them, along with their friend, Hannah, were sitting on “their” bench in Central Park. Marcus worked at a dog walking/training/boarding business called “The Bed and Biscuit” for a woman named Delilah Gould, who was married to another one of the Blades, Jason Mitchell. Hannah was a personal chef working for an outrageously rich couple, the Reynauds, who lived in the San Remo, one of the most expensive and exclusive buildings in New York. Michelle, Marcus, and Hannah had become friends a few years back when they found themselves sharing the same days off.

  Michelle took a sip of iced tea. “He’s totally clueless.”

  “And totally smokin’,” Marcus added, carefully running a hand over his bald, black pate as if he still had an untamed mane of luxurious hair.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Michelle replied. “Not only has he been letting Nell live on junk food, but he’s been letting her stay up as late as she wants, and he hadn’t enrolled her in school yet. I had to do it. Can you imagine?”

  “Kinda,” Hannah put in. “I mean, he’s a pro athlete and a bachelor, and all of a sudden he’s got to take care of his little niece? He must be freaking out.”

  “Well, I wish he’d freak out more eloquently,” Michelle grumbled. “Talking to him is like talking to a wall. He just doesn’t want to deal. I could say, ‘Esa, I’d like to buy Nell a tiger,’ and he’d say ‘Fine, do it.’ He’s clueless about setting up boundaries.”

  Marcus playfully bumped her shoulder. “Screw boundaries, woman! Tell us about his apartment!”

  Michelle related the details to her friends with relish. By the time she got around to describing the kitchen, Hannah was groaning with envy.

  “Does he even use it?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “I hate that,” Hannah said gloomily.

  “Is the kid cute?” Marcus wanted to know.

  “Very. Blond hair, biiigggg blue eyes.”

  “I think it’s written in the orphan handbook that you have to be cute,” Marcus declared. “Seriously: have you ever heard of an ugly orphan?”

  “What about all those kids in Oliver Twist?” Michelle countered.

  “They weren’t ugly. They were ragamuffins. There’s a difference.”

  Michelle ignored him. “She’s got this adorable British accent. And she’s so polite. Smart, too. I really lucked out.”

  Marcus stared at her long and hard. “Uh-oh. Someone’s in love.”

  Michelle felt self-conscious. “So far it’s a great fit, that’s all.” She broke off a piece of a chocolate chip cookie (which she was now rationing with Nell) and popped it in her mouth. “I told her about my mom.”

  Marcus perked up. “Did she freak?”

  “No, Marcus, she didn’t ‘freak.’” Sometimes Marcus’s penchant for drama got to Michelle. “She didn’t really react. But I have a feeling the more she trusts me, the sooner she’ll open up.”

  “Is Saari spending any time with her?” Marcus asked.

  Michelle hesitated. “A bit. Like I said, he just doesn’t know how to deal. But it bugs me; Nell’s been through enough. I worry about her feeling abandoned by him, too.”

  Hannah slurped her mochachino loudly. “Have you mentioned this to him?”

  “I’m trying to keep it low-key for now. I’ve only been there a week and a half. I don’t want to get in his face too much.”

  “I’d want to,” Marcus sighed longingly. “I’d want to get in his face all day, every day.”

  Michelle ignored him.

  “Where’s Nell now?” Hannah asked. “With Esa?”

  Michelle shrugged. “I’m not sure. She mentioned something about going with Esa to see his friends Rory and Erin.” She took another sip of tea. “She wasn’t very happy about not being with me today. I had to explain to her about days off.”

  “I wouldn’t want any time off if Esa Saari was my boss,” Marcus purred. “You have to admit: the guy is stunningly gorgeous.”

  Michelle smirked. “Oh, now he’s ‘stunningly gorgeous’? ‘Hot’ no longer covers it?”

  “Well, he is,” Marcus insisted. “Don’t pretend you didn’t notice.”

  “Of course I noticed he was good-looking, but I didn’t sit there mesmerized, thinking, ‘Oooh, look at Esa Saari, he’s gorgeous.’” Actually, the thought had crossed her mind, but so what? Noticing attractive members of the opposite sex was simply human nature.

  Hannah leaned across Marcus to better address Michelle. “Is he involved with anyone?”

  “I think he’s involved with a lot of people,” Michelle said dryly. “Nell thought I was one of her uncle’s ‘girlfriends.’”

  Marcus looked at Hannah and snorted. “Why, you want her to set you up with him? Dream on, girlfriend. Unless you suddenly sprout titties, long legs, and cascading blond hair, ain’t no way that man would even look your way.”

  “Why do you always have to be such a bitch?” Hannah snapped. She looked at Michelle apologetically. “I was just curious. I wasn’t getting at anything.”

  “I know.”

  Marcus’s bitchiness was over the top, as usual. Hannah was a good-looking woman: chestnut haired, willowy, nice hazel eyes. Guys were always trying to pick her up. But if Marcus’s tabloid expertise was correct, the Finn really wouldn’t give Hannah the time of day, since she didn’t look like a Barbie doll. Michelle found this pretty pathetic, though somehow not surprising.

  Marcus eyed Michelle and Hannah. “Is it me, or are we all boring as sin today?”

  “I’m not!” Michelle protested. “I told you all about my new job.”

  Marcus plucked at his lower lip. “True. A job we better keep hearing about.”

  “As if work isn’t already seventy-five percent of what we talk about,” replied Michelle.

  “Get this,” said Hannah. “The douche bags called me at three o’clock in the morning because they wanted me to come over and make them buckwheat pancakes.”

  Marcus looked horrified. “And you did it?”

  “I had no choice! I’m their personal chef!”

  “Yeah, but that’s a shitty thing to do to someone,” Michelle said indignantly. “What, they couldn’t figure out for themselves how to make pancakes?”

  “I would never put up with that shit in a million years,” Marcus declared. “Never.”

  Hannah smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry: I’m going to write a roman à clef one day and they’re going to be so, so sorry.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “Rich people are so selfish!”

  Michelle laughed loudly. “I’m not sure that’s politically correct, Han.”

  “I don’t care. It’s true. They seem to forget that the people who work for them have lives of their own.”

  Michelle was forced to concede. “I know.” She couldn’t count the number of times the Karles had screwed her over, saying they’d be home by a certain time then turning up hours later. Hell, Esa himself knew her less than an hour before asking her to babysit Nell. Michelle feared that might be a harbinger of behavior to come, and committed to always standing up for herself. She’d laid it all out in the contract. But that didn’t mean he’d looked at it.

  Marcus nudged both Michelle and Hannah in the ribs gently. “Ladies, looks like our boredom is about to end! Remember I told you about my new friend? Wel
l, he’s coming our way.”

  Michelle followed Marcus’s gaze to a brown-haired man with chiseled features who was coming toward them pushing a baby stroller. The baby was a little girl, about five months old, all decked out in pink, from her sun bonnet down to her sandals. The man was smiling, returning Marcus’s wave.

  “A manny?” Michelle asked.

  “Can’t you tell? Look at how that poor child is dressed. She looks like a blob of cotton candy with eyes. If he were the dad, his wife would have laid out clothes for the baby. Clearly David is the one who picked out her clothes. Which is a little worrisome, considering.”

  “Hey.”

  David stopped at the bench, extending his hand to both Hannah and Michelle to shake. “I’m David.”

  “I was just telling Michelle and Hannah all about you,” Marcus said, flashing a charming smile.

  “Good things, I hope.”

  “Only good things.” Marcus regarded Hannah and Michelle. “Hannah is a personal chef for a nightmare couple, and Michelle is the nanny for a little orphaned girl who’s being neglected by her rich uncle.”

  “Marcus!” Michelle said sharply. She shook her head at David as if to say, That Marcus—you know what he’s like. “Her uncle is a professional athlete who knows nothing about kids in general, never mind an eight-year-old girl.”

  “You live in?” David asked.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “With a baby? Yeah.” He looked down at the “blob of cotton candy” in the stroller fondly. “This is Abby.”

  “She’s a cutie,” said Hannah.

  “She is, but she’s starting to teethe, so I’m bracing myself for some tears.”

  “Sounds like you’ve done this before,” Michelle noted.

  “I have.”

  “How’d you get into it?”

  “HEL-LO, other people here,” Marcus huffed, waving a hand in front of Michelle’s face. “Other people who already know this information.”

  David appeared not to hear him. “Lost my job in construction. My brother and sister-in-law needed someone to watch their baby, and I volunteered to do it. I wound up really loving it. So here I am.”

  “Yes, here you are,” Marcus said sweetly before turning to Michelle with a glare. Michelle glared back. Geez! She was just being friendly with the guy.

  “There’s a group of nannies and their toddlers who meet Thursday mornings at the playground at Eighty-third and Riverside,” Michelle continued. “You should check it out. Best gossip in town.”

  David laughed. “I will. Thanks.” He crouched down to check out Abby. She was drooling. He pulled a cloth out of a baby bag, and gently wiped her mouth. “Yup. Teething definitely on the way.”

  There was something sweet about a man tending so carefully to a baby, whether it was his job or not. Michelle was seeing more and more mannies these days. She wondered how he was with older kids.

  “Well, it was nice meeting you,” David said. “I really need to get home and put her down for her morning nap.”

  “I hate that expression, ‘put her down,’” Marcus murmured to Michelle with a shudder. “It sounds like you’re putting a dog to sleep.” He turned on a bright smile for David. “It was lovely seeing you again. Hopefully I—we’ll run into you again soon.”

  David smiled. “That’d be great.” He waved good-bye and strolled away with Abby.

  “Isn’t he a doll?” Marcus sighed.

  “He does seem sweet,” Hannah concurred. “Are you going to ask him out?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll just have to see how it goes.”

  9

  “Yo, Saari: you haven’t said dick about the new nanny. What gives?”

  Esa was sitting at a table at the Wild Hart pub with the usual Rat Pack of teammates: the Mitchell twins, Rory, David, and Ulfie. Tully Webster had passed on the invite, saying he needed to get home because one of his kids had a bad head cold, and his wife needed him to help out. He stared pointedly at Esa as he said it. Esa stared back until Tully broke eye contact. What the fuck? Esa had thought. As if he wouldn’t do anything if Nell were sick?

  Esa downed some Guinness. “What do you want to know?”

  “Is she hot?”

  Jason shook his head. “I knew that was the first question you’d ask, man. You’re so predictable.”

  Esa thought a moment. “I wouldn’t say she’s hot. She’s cute.”

  “Cute can be hot,” Ulf persisted. “What’s her name?”

  Esa was irritated. He wanted to hang out, not talk about Nell’s nanny. “Her name’s Michelle, and I haven’t really noticed if she’s ‘cute hot.’ I’ve just been trying to let her do her thing. Stay out of her way.”

  “I had a dog named Michelle once,” Ulf volunteered.

  Eric stared at him in disbelief. “You make me feel like poking my own eyes out sometimes, you know that?” He reached for a piece of quesadilla in the center of the table. “Why are you trying to stay out of her way, Saari? Attracted to the help?”

  “Not my type,” Esa stated flatly, which was true. He liked his women tall, blond, and malleable. None of those words applied to Michelle Beck, particularly “malleable.” But it didn’t matter. She wasn’t there as his girlfriend. All he knew was that the feeling of helplessness and chaos that had been dragging him down before he hired her was gone, and that Nell seemed happy. So the attributes Michelle did have—protective, loyal, affectionate, just to name a few—were definitely what Nell needed.

  “I put it the wrong way,” he amended. “I’m trying to let her establish a rapport with Nell.”

  Jason snorted. “You mean you’ve handed the kid over to her so you don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

  Esa was surprised to find himself getting defensive. “No.”

  “So the nanny is cute,” said Ulf, determined to stick to that part of the conversation. “Does she have a boyfriend?”

  Esa shrugged. “No idea. I don’t ask about her personal life.”

  “She can’t have much of a personal life if she’s a live-in nanny,” Eric reasoned. “How much time a week does she get off?”

  “Uh . . .”

  Eric smacked his palm down on the table as his mouth fell open. “You’re not even sure, are you? Did you even read the fucking contract?”

  “What’s to read?” Esa replied cavalierly.

  “Dude,” said Jason, “don’t you think you should talk to her about how erratic your hours can be, with road trips and stuff? What if there’s a conflict between that and what’s in the contract, asshole? Then what are you going to do?”

  “She knows what I do for a living.”

  “But you were interviewing her, dickwad, not the other way around,” said Eric. “Don’t you think you need to have an actual conversation about it?”

  “Yeah. I guess.” He vaguely remembered Michelle saying she needed to talk to him about a few things, but she always seemed to catch him when he was walking out the door. He couldn’t remember what those “few things” were. Maybe she hadn’t gone that far into detail?

  “Speaking of talking to each other about things,” Rory murmured to Esa.

  “What’s that?”

  “What the hell was that on Wednesday, you dropping Nell off at our flat in the morning because the nanny was off and you wanted to go to Barneys? What would you have done if Erin and I weren’t home? Why couldn’t you have brought Nell with you?”

  “I didn’t want her to get bored,” Esa confessed.

  “There’s something to be said for that,” said Eric in his defense. “I mean, who doesn’t remember being dragged around on errands with their parents? It IS boring.”

  “That’s no excuse,” Rory countered. “We all have to do things we don’t want to do. So what if she got bored? A little boredom never killed anyone.” He glared at Esa. “Don’t hide behind the boredom excuse: you didn’t want her with you. For those few hours, you wanted to be free as a bird.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Esa mut
tered.

  “No, you go fuck yourself,” Rory countered. “You better sort all of it out, Esa, or you’re going to find yourself nannyless, not to mention friendless, pretty fast.”

  Esa tried maintaining his scowl, but couldn’t. Rory was right. He and Michelle needed to be on the same page when it came to Nell. He had to sit down with her. The idea didn’t exactly thrill him, but he knew it had to be done.

  “I’ll speak with her tomorrow night.” He had a dinner date, but he was sure he could switch it so he got home early enough to say good night to Nell, and talk to Michelle. It wouldn’t take long.

  * * *

  “These guys are unbelievable,” Michelle marveled as she settled down on her bed with a bowl of chocolate chip ice cream to watch American Pickers. The stuff they bought and sold always made her wonder if her dad had any hidden treasures around the apartment.

  Nell was safely tucked in bed. She’d balked when Michelle set the new “eight thirty bedtime rule.” That was the time she used to send seven-and-a-half-year-old Malina Karle to bed, and within minutes, the girl was asleep. The same turned out to be the case with Nell. She and Nell enjoyed a bit of reading before sleep. They were starting Harriet the Spy, which Michelle had adored as a kid. It helped relax Nell, which was good, because she was beginning to get nervous about school.

  Michelle had just downed her first spoonful of ice cream when there was a knock at her door. She froze. She knew it couldn’t be Nell; Nell usually knocked on the bedroom door between their two bathrooms. Which meant it was Esa.

  “Yes?”

  “May I speak with you, Michelle?”

  “Of course,” she replied, as mild ripples of resentment waved up and down her body. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a minute.”

  Shit, she thought, putting her ice cream down on the night table. Leave it to Esa Saari to want to talk when it was on her watch. Though technically she was responsible for Nell round-the-clock five days a week, her past experience had been that once her charges’ parents were in for the night, they more or less took over. But Esa wasn’t always home for the evening, at least not early enough to help tuck Nell into bed, and that pissed Michelle off. It seemed irresponsible, almost neglectful.