Evie took a moment to collect herself; her stomach roiling with rage and disgust, but she managed to keep her face expressionless when she finally replied. “Oh, I’m very sorry. Excuse the intrusion. I’m sure there was a mix up.” She held the boy tighter at her side as she slid the radio off her belt and brought it to her mouth. “Burke? I’m going to need you at the fortress. Over.”
A touch of static, then a slightly confused response. “Alright… Copy that. Be there in 1. Over.”
She slid the little boy off her hip and back down to the carpeted floor of his room. “Evan, we have such a fun and busy day today. So busy, that I’m actually going to have to get Burke to come and have him bring you to breakfast.”
“Okay,” said the sweet little voice, his face a bit screwed up at the routine change. “But I’m not even dressed yet.”
“You know what?” Evie said, kneeling back down to get on his level. “I think we should do a special breakfast, P.J.s and everything. Tell Burke you can eat in the courtyard under the party tent.”
He let out a little squeal and started doing a little hop. “Yay, yay, yay!”
Just then a deep voiced man rounded the corner of the doorway. “What’s this little guy up to now?” he said jokingly, squinting his eyes down at Evan with a sneaky smile.
Evie didn’t turn to looked at him, keeping her eyes on Walters instead, but she felt the energy of the room change immediately. She knew Burke had seen the man standing there in Evan’s room. He took the boy’s hand, completely covering it in his own, and started to lead him out the door towards the stairway to the kitchen. “So what’s the plan then?”
His little voice got softer and softer as they headed away. “Evie said I’m having a super breakfast. In the tent! Outside!”
“Oh are you?” Burke’s voice faded away down the stairs with his footfall.
Evie stood there, emotionless, looking at the man in silence. He also stood still looking at her with an unbothered smile. With a cock of his head, he started past her and for the door.
“Well, I suppose that’ll be it for the morning. I’ll be heading to the sunroom for a bit of brunch with Mrs. Adams. Well, I assume, when she’s done with you.” He passed her and stopped as he rounded the doorway out into the hall. She stood unmoving, looking into the boy’s room, her back to him. “I’m sure I’ll see you at the gala tonight.” She heard him chuckle a bit as he headed towards the grand staircase that would take him down to the extravagant foyer being set up with hightop tables with perfectly pressed linens, and bouquets of fresh flowers being arranged in vases at their centers for the event that night.
Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, her jaw flexed so tight she thought she might crack her teeth. The sound of the crinkling plastic casing of the little underwear pack snapped her out of it, and her breath wavered in her chest. She placed the pack on the little desk top, and she saw herself in the black screen of the television sitting there. She steeled herself and headed back down the hallway to the main office.
Office was a poor word for it, but the grandeur of it left quite the impression, and that was the point: shock and awe. Back down the rest of the hallway, where the main wing of the house was, made up almost entirely of the master suite, was a more regular looking office the councilman used. But this wasn’t the councilman’s office.
As Evie reached the middle of the long, stretching hallway, looking over the foyer, bookended with stairways that led down, she knew to expect an entirely different line of conversation. If you could call the basic one sided dialogue that followed a meeting with the boss a conversation. She rounded the open doorway of the blindingly white double doors and gave a barely audible knock to the door face.
“Mrs. Adams, you wanted to see me?” she said quietly, but firm.
At the back of the large circular room that was the architectural epicenter of the house sat a huge mahogany desk in front of matching floor to the start of the domed ceiling bookcases, filled with books meant to impress, but more likely, had never been read, at least by the owner. Behind that behemoth of a desk stood a contrastingly small young woman with freshly blown out dark brown hair, absent-mindedly shuffling papers around its surface, which Evie knew was just for show. And as the usual exhibition of power continued, Mrs. Adams waited a beat before even looking up to acknowledge her.
She broke her gaze from the desktop and looked Evie up and down, letting out a long sigh as she stood her five foot two inch frame up stiff and straight. “Nanny,” she said, pointing to a spot right in front of her desk. “You are here to discuss your role in tonight’s fundraiser as it pertains to Evan.”
Evie stood in the spot ordered to her at attention, her hands behind her back, legs slightly apart. Then she caught herself and clasped her hands at her stomach like a good, little trained, meek servant, just as the boss liked. “Yes, Mrs. Adams.”
“Now, all but one thing has changed, Nanny.” She took her seat at the desk’s high backed leather chair, crossing one leg over her knee and folded her arms on her lap as she glared at her. “You will follow Evan down with us at the start of the party, in the appropriate attire selected for such events, and speak to absolutely no one. Once we have done a lap, you will quietly, and without bringing attention to yourself, escort him through the kitchen where he will have a prepped and appropriate small meal waiting, that you will ensure he consumes in its entirety. After which, as always, you will then get him ready for bed and tuck him in.” She paused, eyes squinting at Evie waiting for the appropriate response.
“Yes, Mrs. Adams,” she answered the silent question with a nod of her head and a tiny smile.
“Now, instead of spending the rest of the night in your bedroom to cater to whatever Evan may need, you are to be relieved. Is this correct, Nanny?”
Evie had almost forgot. Every year around Labor Day, the Adams’ go off to some high end Florida beach resort, and they do not take Evie with them. Something she believes she heard Mrs. Adams explain away as “no free loading vacations.” But everyone knows it’s because she always makes sure to be photographed being a dutiful and caring mother with Evan. There is no need to see the nanny there. Usually she takes the week off to do something with Burke, her old mentor. He was the one who got her this job when she retired from the military and was now head of security. Instead of going to some nice cabin where they could fish or grill, Burke, the avid survivalist, would always convince her to go on some crazy, living off the land type expedition in the mountains where he could practice the new skills he had acquired during the year.
How this whole tradition started, she didn’t really know, but she’s pretty sure Burke knew where she was her first year here. She was out of the service with no family and no real friends outside of work, taking care of a baby, and simply didn’t want her to be alone. The only difference this year, besides his new fascination with some indestructible water bottle and a whole new line of plant identification, was that the Adams’ had finally landed a coveted fundraising event now that the councilman’s name started being heard off the tongues of politicos in high seats for him to get a higher seat of his own. So while they weren’t going anywhere this year, Mrs. Adams didn’t care to have the nanny about in her prominent role with Evan, in front of these top tier politicians. She was still going to be playing the dutiful mother, just in their actual home for a change.
Evie was about to utter another Yes, Mrs. Adams when a thought struck her, making it impossible for her to actually leave this house and her role in it. Mrs. Adams didn’t know she and Burke went on these trips together, and Burke was required to stay as head of security because the family was staying this year. She was finally going to go to a nice cabin by herself, but before she could think it through, she said, “Well, Ma’am I-“
“Ma’am? I think you know better than that. I am younger than you, obviously, and you know what you are to refer to me as, Nanny.” Her Mississippi accent suddenly bloomed out
through her lips in her displeasure. She usually kept her accent demure and innocent in front of anyone who didn’t know the real her.
Evie took a deep breath, she could feel her blood pressure rising even more than it usually did during these meetings, but knowing what was stopping her from going on this trip made it extremely hard to contain.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Adams,” and she paused to wait for her to tell her her apology was accepted and she could move on. She gave her a disgusted wave of her hand and began shuffling papers around again on her desk, looking down intently at them. Evie continued, “As you are aware, I was sent to you this morning. On my way, I passed Evan’s room and heard a man’s voice coming from it.” Evie paused and waited for a telling reaction.
The woman didn’t even look up, not even a stiffness in her posture. She just gave out a little, “Mm-hm,” without so much as even looking up at Evie.
“Well, I found it odd, and looked in on him to find Saxon Walters sitting there.” She waited again, a beat shorter this time. “And he had gifted Evan with a new set of underwear… that he was telling Evan to try on.” There it was, a very slight twitch, a barely visible stuttering swing of her shoulders. She knew who this man was too.
The silence fell hard between them, and Evie knew to wait for her response before she continued. The woman, seemingly unfazed beyond the flinch of her upper body, went right back to moving papers to and fro at her desk, never even looking up.
“Nanny, I believe that you were told Evan’s morning preparations were not of the normal routine, and that you were to come directly here, to me, in my office?” She let the question, sit there.
“Yes, Mrs. Adams, but my job is to look after Evan, and when I heard a stranger’s voice in-“
Mrs. Adams promptly cut her off as she looked up with a gentle slap of her hands on the wooden surface. “Are you insinuating that I do not know what goes on in my house? Or who is even in my home?”
“No, Mrs. Adams,” Evie said, her eyes dropping to the floor, but her head still held up. Her heartbeat raced as she knew where this was going.
“That ‘man’ is a Representative of South Carolina. An eight term Representative of South Carolina, most likely going on his ninth, and he accepted our invitation for tonight. Happily, I might add. When I found out he was staying at the so-called hotel the next town over, I extended another invitation for him to meet here for a decent breakfast. One he would not have received there,” she spat with a how-dare-you tone meant for everyone from Evie to the hotel to the area itself. “Hopefully, if we’re still on a good foot here from my ever present determination, especially after your interfering, he can be another body propelling Lucas toward the White House.”
“That was very smart of you, Mrs. Adams,” Evie said with fake sincerity. “I didn’t mean to negate anything you might have had planned, I-” She collected herself for a moment to word the best approach. “I just wanted to let you know that Rep. Saxon, well, there have been rumors, Mrs. Adams-“
“Now, you can stop right there,” she said again from the papers she had returned to not even raising an eyebrow. “No one has any proof, and he has been doing good work for South Carolina. The rumors, I assume, are from nosy little gossiping Secret Service men with chips on their shoulders from being fired.” Evie was about to apologize again, thinking there may not have been reason to fully suspect anything of Doreen Adams’ drive for power this time around, until she finished with, “And I of course made it very clear when he broached the subject that there was to be absolutely no touching, of either of them, by either of them.”
Evie’s stomach dropped to the floor, then was brought back up by the rage that bubbled in her entire being. She could feel her body begin to shake with the pent up emotions being kept at bay. Now Evie knew a lot about Doreen Adams. The fact that she was a walking theater production from day to night when important people were around was the reason everyone who worked for them had to sign a nondisclosure agreement. But when Evie was hired three years ago, hers was much more in-depth. It became immediately clear that Mrs. Adams did not carry her child, Evan. A surrogate did. Evie still wasn’t sure if she even donated the egg for the pregnancy due to the fact she would’ve actually had to be physically involved some how. For nine months, this twenty-five year old woman stood in the spot light during election season and pretended to be with child. She pretended she had debilitating morning sickness to help garner sympathy. She even spoke once about how hard it was to get pregnant and all the disappointments they had while other women in the audience cried in support and understanding. At six months, she started wearing fake bumps in public, all the way up until the surrogate gave birth and handed him over.
It had never been spoken directly to or by anyone, even Evie, but when she was hired, Evan was to be born by scheduled C-section a week later. She thought it was going to be by Mrs. Adams, who even wore the bump around all day in her own home so every employee would believe it too. The only reason Evie knew was because when she rode silently in a town car called to the hospital to help bring the baby home, she went into the room where Mrs. Adams was already dressed like a Royal about to present a new heir. Her stomach was flatter than a table top, but it could’ve just been good styling so that never even registered until later. Mr. Adams was beaming, holding him in his arms. Doreen ordered him to hand the baby off and that was when Evan just became her full responsibility. The woman barely held him outside of photo-ops.
However it was when she saw the bottles full of breast milk waiting in the mini fridge they had installed in her connected room to the nursery that she realized what was happening. But one day a little over a week after Evan was born, one sleep deprived early morning, she walked through the connecting bathroom from the nursery, to her room, and there was Mr. Adams, refilling the fridge with bottles of breastmilk… from a refrigerated delivery box. Even then she didn’t think about it until a month later, when Mrs. Adams’ magazine cover on the front of some rag was commending her on bouncing back after baby as she wore an expensive workout outfit and ate from a plate of healthy food while her “trainer” stood behind her grinning proudly. The article was all about how she loved being a mom, and how great Evan was, and how she loved their time together when she nursed him, even with her busy schedule.
That’s when the picture of Doreen Adams became crystal clear: she was a fucking liar and manipulator for personal gain and fame, and didn’t feel anything for any one. She was a perfect player in the race for a politician’s gain. Evie never understood why Mr. Adams went along with it, but then again, she never really knew the role Doreen played for Mr. Adams. It wasn’t until that moment, in her office when she admitted openly to allowing a pedophile into her three year old son’s room for political leverage, and was fine with it because no one was allowed to touch, that she knew she was a bona fide monster.
Evie’s breath shook as she exhaled. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Adams. What did you say?”
The woman let her pen fall to the table, then pushed herself away from the desk, leaning back into her chair as she cocked her head to the side and slowly crossed her arms over her lap again. “I’m going to get right to the point, Nanny. You’ve signed legal papers, copious amounts of legal papers. Now I don’t know a goddamned thing about you, nor do I care to. It’s not my job. It’s Mr. Burke’s, and though he said you were exactly what we were looking for, etcetera, etcetera.” She flitted her hand around in the air. “I’m sure he could go right out and find someone just like you today if I so much as mentioned it to him. You are a babysitter, meant to not be seen or heard, but to simply get Evan from thing “A” to thing “B”, wipe his ass, and then tuck him in to start it all over again the next day. Do you understand me, Nanny?” she spat at Evie, then continued without waiting for a response. “I think you already know that you are nothing. And if you suddenly have the urge to make yourself something, because of my life, and interrupt my plans for my family’s future… well, I think we both know I will sto
mp you down into the dirt so deep, you won’t even have the privilege of being able to look up my skirt. Do you understand, Nanny?”
Evie locked her teeth, about to let her have it, because she did know damn well this bitch didn't know who she was. But she’d be damned if she left and Evan had to be alone with this demon. But she knew a loop hole. If she did tell her exactly who she was, Evie would have more power than God in this house, but at the heavy price of her own anonymity. She took a step towards the desk as the woman raised an eyebrow at her at the audacity, but before she could get a word out there was a polite knock at the door.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Adams?” It was Eric, the assistant.
“Mr. Eickleman, what in the hell is it?” she said, still staring daggers at Evie and never once looking at him.
“I need to speak to you about something urgent,” he said meekly, feeling the tension in the room.
“I doubt it.” She took a collective breath, adjusting the hem of her tan pencil skirt.
“Mrs.-“ he started again a bit more earnestly.
“Not now, Mr. Eickleman. I need to finish up here with the nanny. Go down to the sunroom and check on Rep. Walters. Make sure he is comfortable, and explain I’m correcting our little dilemma and will be right down,” she ordered. He opened his mouth again to implore her some more, but couldn’t get any sound out after the look she shot him. “We can discuss this urgent business then.” She turned her attention back to her papers and away from him to fully illustrate how done she was with him.
He let out a little whimper and nodded his head in understanding, then made his way down one side of the double staircase of the entryway and through the crowd of people who continued to prepare for the night’s event.
Mrs. Adams immediately began to scribble things here and there on the scattered pages across her desk, and Evie again took a step towards her.
Evangeline, Alone. (Book 1): Evangeline, Alone Page 34