by Emily Duvall
Stevie pushed her bowl of oatmeal to the side. “This is nonsense. Vivian will talk when she’s ready.” She got up, carried her bowl to the sink, and dropped it in with a loud clank. “I’ll be ready to take her back from you at lunchtime.”
“Vivian, want to play?” Melanie asked, using the sign for play, a hang-loose sign while rotating her wrist. “Play.”
“She’ll come around,” Latonya said once Stevie left the room. “Nobody’s been around Vivian more than she has. She’s taking this personally. She was supposed to get an assistant nanny on this trip, not a speech therapist.”
“Sometimes the parents or caretakers of the clients I work with have a harder time adjusting to my work than the children.” Melanie leaned forwards, holding up a finger, forcing Vivian to look at her eyes. “Play,” she said, demonstrating the sign.
Melanie got Vivian down and brushed egg off her shirt. She and Vivian walked to the play room, a room at the opposite end of the house. The large room looked untouched, like they’d moved in yesterday and hadn’t gotten around to unpacking. Stacked boxes lined the wall. Shelves still in their packaging crowded the corners. Toys remained wrapped in boxes with images of children laughing and playing on the front of the cardboard box. A mini guitar with two strings sat in the other corner and Vivian went right to the toy.
“Guitar,” Melanie said, pointing at the instrument. “G-G-G,” she mimicked the sound, unzipping her bag. The binder and stash of papers inside slid out onto the plush carpet amongst the electronic melody as Vivian banged on the guitar face.
Melanie took out her Preschool Language Scales Record Form or PLS-5 and began her evaluation. The results would determine Vivian’s greatest areas of need. The beginning section of the evaluation didn’t require many tools and Melanie started with the first section, noting whether or not Vivian glanced at her when being spoken to. She observed whether or not Vivian turned her head when a burst of laughter erupted outside the hallway. Vivian didn’t.
Does Vivian mouth objects?
No, she does not Melanie noted and gave her a score. Melanie tried engaging her by making silly faces and Vivian didn’t smile in return, although she looked interested. Melanie placed toys in front of Vivian. Vivian went for one of the cars and Melanie said, “Stop,” but Vivian continued to go for the toy, which gave her a score of zero.
Thirty minutes through the evaluation, Melanie stopped. Vivian’s attention waned at the prospect of doing another task and Melanie decided to take a lunch break. The rest of the testing she could break out throughout the week, and plus, she needed to go through and gather the testing items she couldn’t substitute or find in the play room.
Stevie wasn’t anywhere to be found and so, Melanie left Vivian in the kitchen with Latonya, whom seemed eager to feed anybody. Melanie went out back on the patio where she heard a woman calling up to the house from the beach. The waist-high wrought iron gate granted Melanie access to a narrow staircase and she crisscrossed down the path to the sand. Pink-and-red umbrellas stuck out of the sand like giant flowers, shading the few beachgoers underneath.
“Hello?” called a high-pitched voice from the bottom step. “Girls, move aside!” One of the young girls hid behind the woman, the other, obviously a twin, jumped up on the stone fence.
The woman and the two girls ascended the staircase and met Melanie halfway. “May I help you?” Melanie asked, eyeing the identical faces of the young girls.
“You know Luke?” said the woman with legs like an ostrich and eyes like a hawk. She squinted up at Luke’s house. “I live at the end of the street. We don’t have direct access to the water. Ava and I are good friends,” she boasted, as if this meant something to Melanie. “My name is Goldie Elliot and these are my daughters, Kari and Alyssa. We’ve known Luke and Ava for years. They are our local celebrities if you ask me.” She smiled down at Vivian and spoke in a baby voice, “My soon-to-be-ex-husband moved out earlier this year. I’m officially a single mother. My poor girls won’t remember their two-parent days. This is our first trip to the beach in months.” She glanced at the house. “How do you know Luke Harrison?”
“I work for Mr. Harrison. My name is Melanie.”
“Huh.” Unimpressed with Melanie’s connection to Luke, Goldie’s smile faded, then recharged. “What exactly do you do for him? Are you one of his gem-hunters or do you do some kind of jewelry design? I dabbled in jewelry design myself, but nothing high-end level like Luke’s accustomed to having.” The two girls ran circles around Goldie, kicking up sand and screaming in delight. One of the girls pushed down her sister and they fell to the ground in a mess of bony limbs and curly hair, wrestling with each other.
“How old are your girls?” Melanie couldn’t resist the possibility of easy access to friends for Vivian.
“Be careful girls.” Goldie pointed at the sand. “A few weeks ago we had trespassers on the beach, teenagers we think, loitering and smashing beer bottles. One of our neighbors went to the hospital with cuts to her leg from the broken glass. Kari and Alyssa: get up,” she ordered. “They’re four-years-old, In-Vitro babies. My husband and I couldn’t get pregnant on our own. They took to the womb on our third try. Ava knows the entire story. She helped me recover after their birth.” Goldie lowered her sunglasses from her head to cover her eyes. “I hear there’s a wedding at the house. Do you know the date or the time? June is such a busy month for me and the girls.” The unsubtle hint of a potential invite hung in the air between them. “I would hate to miss Damon’s big day. I’ll stop by later and give my congratulations.”
“I don’t know much about the wedding.” Melanie enjoyed being nondescript on purpose. The slightest nod and Goldie thought this a cue to continue.
“I’ve heard Luke’s headboard is lined in jewels. Is that true?”
Laughter burst out of Melanie’s mouth. The image of Luke, propped up on his elbow on some fur-lined bed with a headboard full of big gems was absurd. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t spend time with Luke in his bedroom.”
The shrill of giggles erupted from her daughters and Goldie flung her head back. “Girls,” she hissed, “stop throwing sand.” Goldie snapped her fingers, as if the next idea fell from the sky. “Let’s get the girls together for a play date.”
Melanie couldn’t say no to this. Vivian needed to be around other children. The socializing couldn’t be put off any longer. “A play date sounds perfect. I don’t have your phone number.”
“Next Friday morning, ten o’ clock, we’ll come to Luke’s house.” Goldie grabbed Kari’s hand. “Let Luke know I’ll be stopping by and I want to see him.” One wistful glance at the house and she smiled. “We’ll see you soon.”
“Melanie?” Stevie called from the patio, causing Melanie to turn around.
“I’m down here,” she said back, and began walking up the stairs.
“No rush; I’ve got Vivian. Take a break, do what you need to get done. Vivian takes a nap after she eats.”
Melanie made herself comfortable on the sofa in the main room. The paper calendar splayed out on the coffee table was next to a glass of pink lemonade Latonya made from scratch. She’d gotten so used to tasting the powder stuff that she’d forgotten how sweet and acidic fresh-squeezed lemonade tasted.
“She’s tired today,” Stevie said, limping down the staircase. “I’m beat between the beach and running after Vivian.” She took a seat next to Melanie. “I see you have out your calendar, let’s discuss our schedules.”
“I’m still waiting to talk to Luke, but yes, after working with Vivian this morning, I have a minimum number of hours I’d like to work with her. We’re going to do some intense work from five to seven hours a week of language-centered activities. I’d like to hold a session with her immediately following breakfast and after her nap.”
Stevie leaned forward and rubbed her hands together. “What am I supposed to do while you’re working with her?”
“I want you present some of the time and other times, I’ll
work with her one-on-one. You’re around her more than anyone, so some of my job will be to train you on how to really give Vivian language with purpose, not just talking at her. She’s watching you, even if you can’t tell or feel that she’s paying attention. The sounds you make, she’ll learn to make, especially when used with repetition. Beginning tomorrow, I’d like you to start getting Vivian to point to objects. I noticed she doesn’t point much to objects and when she does, it’s sporadic. When you mention a bird in the sky, stick out your finger. If you’re reading a book, point to the pictures. Tell her to point. Physically take her finger and have her do it.”
“I don’t know about all this.” Stevie sighed.
Melanie couldn’t help but think of what Kendra had said at breakfast, at how the pediatrician had suggested the bottle transition to Stevie. “Stevie, do you really take Vivian to some of her doctor’s appointments?”
“Yes.”
Melanie nodded. She wondered what information about Vivian hadn’t been fully communicated to Luke. Now wasn’t the time to back Stevie in a corner, the woman barely accepted Melanie’s presence in the house. Melanie would get the missing pieces filled in on her own.
“Stevie, try my methods and give Vivian some time. You’ll see the improvement in time. Helping Vivian will be a whole-house effort—Kendra, Latonya, Mr. Harrison; all have to start expecting more from her.” Melanie jotted down the play date. “Twice a week I want Vivian in some kind of play activity with other children. Take her to the park, to a library for story time, a gym for kids—you get the picture. More peer interaction and less adult interaction. I cannot emphasize this enough. Get her around other kids. Get in between them and show her how to play. Does Vivian initiate play when she’s around other kids?”
“Of course she does. She gets right in there and grabs toys and becomes excited when she’s around other kids.”
Melanie kept her doubts hidden. The play date with Alyssa and Kari would give Melanie a more accurate assessment of Vivian’s social interaction.
“Play dates, park, other children,” Stevie repeated and gazed down at her hands.
Melanie thought about what Latonya had said at breakfast. She closed the calendar and said, “Stevie, this isn’t personal. This isn’t a reflection on you as a nanny.”
“Your opinion doesn’t make a difference.” Stevie stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of her pants. “I forgot to tell you that Mr. Harrison is at a charity fundraiser for underprivileged teenagers. He took a plane to Oahu earlier today and will be there overnight, with Kendra. Each time we come here, he’s off somewhere else, auctioning off some gemstone for a good cause.”
“Are Kendra and Luke together?” Melanie asked on impulse.
“Thank you.” Stevie smirked. “You just made me one-hundred dollars richer.”
“How?” Melanie frowned; feeling foolish for asking in the first place.
“I bet Latonya you would ask within the first seventy-two hours if Luke is single.”
“What did Latonya bet?”
“She thought you’d hold out until after the first week.” Stevie pretended to fan cash in front of her face. “I do love winning and I’ll tell you what you want to know for being such a good sport. Kendra and Mr. Harrison are strictly employer and employee. They spend a lot of time together but they do not cross the professional line. Kendra is pretty and ambitious, but Luke is her boss and he’s too smart to get involved with one of his employees.”
There wasn’t any point trying to read between the lines. Melanie snatched the calendar. “Don’t make any more bets on me. I’m going for a swim.”
“Don’t give me a reason to.” Stevie laughed.
Melanie kept busy the rest of the day. She worked with Vivian and had her involved with a few language-focused activities using a plastic farm and animals. The energy of the house felt flat in Luke’s absence and Melanie took the opportunity to acquaint herself with the property, respond to emails, and begin to type out some initial observations about Vivian. After Stevie retired for the evening, Melanie went up the stairs to her bedroom on the second floor and changed into her two-piece bathing suit. The reflection in the mirror showed a mid-section hidden from the sun for months. The other parts of her body: arms, neckline, below the knee, showed off a piecemeal tan. A few rolls existed in her middle, the flat stomach had left her body at sixteen and though she worked out regularly, some of the stubborn patches of flab remained on her inner thighs and waistline. Despite the slight increase in plumpness, she liked the way she looked and felt good about her body.
A quiet hush fell over the house. The soft padding of her footprints sounded as she walked across the tile and outside. The warm breeze flowed in the house, shifting the leafy green house plants. Fans with two blades churned overhead, keeping the flow of air moving in and out of the house.
The pool lights were on and the night air was warm. Nobody else in the house took advantage of such a gorgeous evening or access to the swimming. Kendra and Luke would be away until tomorrow. Latonya had gone to her room and the kitchen transformed into a dark, spotless space. The thought of taking a swim invigorated Melanie, who’d grown up swimming to relax at the end of the day. Some of her best memories came from pushing, racing, and doing handstands with Jessie and Mark in their own backyard pool, a much smaller version than the one laying out before her.
Melanie poured herself a glass of wine from the outdoor wine bar. The temperature-controlled refrigerator housed wine labels she’d not seen before. Some were in another language, clearly not of the Yellow Tail variety. Upon closer inspection, she could see they weren’t wine at all. They were bottles of champagne. She picked one and brought it to the light. “You’re very pretty,” she said to the bottle of rose-colored liquid. “Who are you Armand de Brignac?” She put the champagne back and closed the door, not willing to open something that might be worth more than her car.
The open mahogany trunk to her left showed off a stack of fluffy towels and she took one, dropping it off on a lounge chair. Melanie secured the knot on her bikini top and jumped in feet first, relishing in the water welcoming her. She stayed submerged for a moment, kicking her feet and pushing her arms, becoming deaf and blind for a moment before coming up for air. She burst through the water giddy with the thrill of having the entire pool to herself.
The water swirled under her arms and legs as she worked her way over to the fountain where lights changed color from blue to green. Physically she rested, but not mentally. Thoughts of Ava and Luke occupied her mind. Ava had staked a claim in Luke’s heart and she felt caught between wanting to know the truth of their relationship and hoping to avoid the entire topic. What did Ava mean to Luke now? Would they ever reconcile? Did he love her? She could ask Stevie, but Melanie didn’t trust her yet. She couldn’t find out more about Luke without eventually bumping into what went wrong with them. She’d have to dig a tunnel through the past to get up to speed on the future. She gave the water a splash and a backlash of drops hit her face.
Chapter 10
The movement of the ceiling fan caught Luke’s eye as he shut the door. Anxious to get back to the beach house, he’d left the charity event early. Kendra’s upset stomach had given him a good reason to sneak away and get back to his house, while she remained in Oahu, vowing to fly back the moment she felt better. The event hadn’t been a total waste. A four-carat, fancy yellow square-cut diamond would be auctioned off later this evening and he’d met Karen Adams, a jewelry designer he’d persuaded to work for him. The jewelry end of Luke’s business did very well, until their longstanding designer left due to health issues with her family members. For weeks, he’d been looking for a replacement and the work of Karen Adams had got his attention with her skill in setting stones and engraving to antique restoration. Luke’s stones sat in vaults, divided between each of his brother’s houses, since they didn’t have a formal office. They never liked to keep the exploits of their hunts in the same location, too tempting for anyone outs
ide of Brent or Damon. Even with Kendra, he kept the details of the vaults in both of his houses minimal. She knew it existed, she just didn’t know where.
Luke removed his jacket and placed it on the back of the sofa. In his other hand, he held onto a box of raspberry truffles he’d picked up from a chocolatier in downtown Oahu. The purchase of the chocolates wasn’t his style, he liked to take a woman to the best restaurant or buy a bottle of champagne or go on a weekend getaway to somewhere private. Chocolates, he mused, holding the box with the thin gold bow, he hadn’t bought chocolates for a woman in some time. The situation required him to tread lightly between his attraction for her and proving her wrong about her brother. The sound of water splashing caused him to turn and walk over in the direction of the pool.
He saw her at once. He recognized the long legs kicking and her arms extending out. Lounge chairs, coffee tables, and sitting chairs made from aluminum sat around the water with Melanie swimming in stride, in water turning from yellow to green. The chocolates could wait. Luke set them on the table, kicked off his shoes and removed his socks, and unbuttoned his long-sleeved shirt a couple of notches before walking over to the far end of the pool where she’d finish up her lap.
The breeze tunneled through his open shirt and he spotted the fluffy towel strewn across the chair along with Melanie’s discarded clothes. He picked up the towel and stood at the edge.
Melanie bobbed up from her swim. Water streamed down her face. She wiped her closed eyes and opened them.
“Luke,” she said, startled, and pushed the matted hair off her forehead. “What are you doing here?”
The towel opened under his fingers. “I returned early,” he said, with notable edginess. “Get out of the pool.”
“No.”