13. Sun hats & sand castles
THIRTEEN
SUN HATS & SAND CASTLES
T he only explanation I have for the chaos I’ve brought into my house is that I wasn’t thinking when I invited Vanessa to burrow deeper into our lives.
She’s been living in the pool house for two months and Anton and Livia have never been more difficult. I haven’t been able to go to the club on Sundays to relax. I’m too tired.
They simply refuse to go to bed every night, despite the yelling, the punishments, the bargaining. They’re missing their mum more with every day that passes. And she still hasn’t contacted me.
I know why I’m not looking for her. I’m too scared of her refusing to come back for them.
I love my children and would do anything to make them happy, but right now I’m the bad guy. The feeling that I’m failing them is crippling.
Every night, after I battle to get them to sleep, I sit in my office and either distract myself with more work or stare blankly at the wall. These are the worst nights. When nothing grabs my attention and only a dark pit of emptiness fills my chest and leaves me feeling nauseous and exhausted.
When this happens, I resist the urge to check if Vanessa is home by peeking through the sheer curtains of my office. I won’t let her become yet another distraction to my emptiness. I’m not that far gone yet. And she deserves better. She’s been in our lives for less than three months but it’s impossible to miss how she illuminates everything around her. How bright her smile is. How nurturing and warm she can be with the kids. Never with me, but it’s better this way. I can’t siphon away the life within her if I keep my distance.
She mentioned having people over once and a hot wave of green jealousy took over me. It’s not an emotion I have felt often. It was alien, exhilarating. And absolutely disproportionate and inapropriate. Yet, I often watch her front door. No one has visited her yet and I hate that I’m relieved. She should live her life to the fullest. But I can’t help but want to keep her close a little longer.
But today, I watch as Vanessa walks to her front door with her arms full of groceries. She leaves the door wide open and a few minutes later, I watch as she positions two chairs—one to sit on and one for her feet—still inside the house but right in the sun, and settles to read a book.
I am an asshole. I told her I didn’t want her near us, and the patio behind the studio will be in the shade at this time of day. So she’s made a makeshift lounge chair inside instead of taking advantage of the space outside.
For my benefit.
To follow my stupid rules.
Maybe it’s for the best, since I can see her long legs in very tiny shorts and I don’t need to see my nanny in such an outfit.
“ Babbu , can we go to the beach today?” Anton’s voice takes me out of my daydream and I look up at him, already in his swim shorts and carrying a plastic bucket and a bright blue shovel. I sigh and he smiles, shy yet mischievous, knowing I can’t say no to him.
“Alright, picculinu . When your sister wakes up from her nap, we can go to the beach. But we’re not swimming, the water is too cold.”
“Yeah!” He runs and jumps into my arms and I catch him, wincing as my back pulls in the process, reminding me that, at thirty-seven, I’m getting too old to lift my son comfortably and he’s growing very fast.
Soon, he’ll be a grown man and leave the house I built for him, for them, leaving me alone to wallow in my misery. At least with them around, I have a reason to force myself to live.
It’s past four in the afternoon when Livia wakes up from her nap and when I pull the car onto the driveway, everyone safely strapped in, familiar long legs in tiny jean shorts and a hat the size of the moon greet us on the gravelled entrance.
“Vivi,” Livia exclaims from her cosy at the back of my car.
“Where?” Anton immediately asks, perking up to look in both directions and shouting her name when he sees her, as if she’d hear through the closed windows of the car.
“Sit back down, picculinu . Vanessa isn’t working today, remember? It’s Saturday,” I tell them.
“She has a hat. She’s going to the beach,” he replies in the way children say the truth as it is, without truly knowing.
Of course, she’d go to the beach dressed in the tiniest shorts possible, looking like a model out of a magazine.
“You don’t know. Maybe she’s just going to do groceries.”
“With the big hat?” He quirks a brow, and the movement reminds me of myself and my fists clench around the steering wheel.
Before I can stop him, Anton lowers the window and calls for Vanessa.
“Hi, Vivi!”
Her smile is so bright as she turns to answer that she could light up the entire planet if the sun wasn’t trying to take her place as the star of the show. She waves to Anton and then to Livia. I almost hope she’ll direct her attention at me so I can finally bask in her warmth too, but I’m not so lucky.
She has no reason to smile at me. I’ve been callous and dismissive, distant and withdrawn. And I told her not to mix with us outside of work.
Our gaze collides, and she straightens, her smile dropping. She swallows like she’s suddenly parched.
“We’re going to the beach. Are you also going to the beach?” Anton’s enthusiasm breaks the tension, and she turns her attention back to him.
“I am, picculinu .”
“Beach,” Livia shouts, trying to be part of the conversation as well. The sound stays stuck in between her lips and I almost smile. She’s so tiny in her maxi car seat, yet she wants to be where the grown ups are, always curious. I wonder if she’s looking for her mother’s attention and suddenly sadness replaces the joy, the heaviness that always accompanies me back on my shoulders like it never left. At least I didn’t get used to joy.
“We can take you,” Anton offers and I frown. Vanessa’s mouth pulls down, hesitation written across her face as she worries her bottom lip. The hazel of her eyes shines with flecks of gold in the bright light of spring, and it’s hard to look away. I don’t.
“I’ll take the bus, anghuli , but I’ll see you on Monday, okay?”
“ Babbu ,” Anton whines. “Vivi shouldn’t have to take the bus. You have the seat next to you that’s free. Can she come with us? Please .” He almost cries on the “please” and I have to admire his manipulation skills. Not a single tear escapes his eyes and when I look at him in the rearview mirror, I see the lift of his lips for what this is. A tantrum. The one thing I’m trying to avoid but can’t seem to escape ever since Vanessa moved in with us. I mean, next to us.
“Get in, Miss Winfrey,” I sigh, giving in.
She looks stunned but obeys with a curt nod, gaze drawn down. It shouldn’t please me, yet an unexpected sort of purr spreads inside my chest. I dismiss it and drive in silence, the chatter of my children occupying the space between us.
When we reach the beach, most families are leaving and we easily find a place under the shades of the wild maritime pine trees. I’m not a fan of people, so this is my favourite time to bring the kids here. I set down the kids’ toys, the foldable chair I brought and the bag full of snacks, dry clothes and towels.
Vanessa moves to walk away, but Anton takes her hand, followed by Livia. I trail after them and step in front of them, stopping their trail.
“Where are you going?” I ask Anton.
“ Babbu .” The u trails in a half wail and I brace for another tantrum. “I want to build a castle with Vanessa.”
“Vanessa is not playing with you today.” My voice is cold and infallible, and I hate it. But if I don’t put boundaries into place now, they’ll get attached to her. They’ll give her their little hearts and she’ll crush them when she inevitably leaves.
She’s already trying to find a new place to live. A new job isn’t that much of a stretch.
I take his hand from Vanessa’s and sweep Livia off the sand and into my arms. They both start crying and my heart breaks, my throat clogging with unshed sadness. I deposit them onto the blanket and sit on the foldable chair, but their wailing continues.
Vanessa bites her bottom lip and hesitates, taking a step away from us, then stopping again, before she spins to face us. She doesn’t look to me for approval this time and my blood heats with the promise of retribution. It won’t be the kind I love to inflict.
Whatever she’s about to say, I know she’s going to find a compromise. And it will work. She has a soft touch with Anton and Livia without catering to their every whim. Where I’m hard and unyielding, she finds space to nurture them. I watch, mesmerised, as she settles on her knees on the sand. From my chair, it could almost look like she’s at my feet. I don’t dislike it as much as I should.
“Anton, Livia, look at me.” They do, their little eyes shining with tears, their cheeks red with the force of their emotions. “I’m not working today. Do you know what that means?”
Anton nods, but Livia shakes her head. A smile appears on Vanessa’s soft features. Her wavy hair almost hides her from me and I tilt my head to see her better, hanging to her words.
“That means when it’s around dinner time until the morning, and when it is Saturday and Sunday, I can’t spend time with you. I have my own home, and my friends and a lot of things to do.”
“But you live with us,” Anton retorts, wiping his tears with his fists and I curse myself for putting them in this confusing situation. I don’t even know why I did it, I just knew I couldn’t let her stay anywhere else.
She smiles a kind and knowing smile. “I live in the same place, but I have my own space. Imagine like at school when you go to your classroom but the older kids, they go to another and they don’t come into your classroom and you don’t go into theirs. That’s what happens for us on Saturdays and Sundays. Do you understand?”
“I think so.” Anton frowns and bites his lip, but after a while he nods his approval. Livia has already left the conversation as she plays with a ball and sand next to us.
“But today, we are at the beach and it’s a public place, so maybe we can play for a little bit and then I’ll go over there.” She shows him the other side of the beach, “And I’ll read and you’ll play with your dad.”
“Dad doesn’t play with me.”
Actually, it’s now that my heart breaks. Have I been so self-centred and insensitive that I forgot to give my children what really matters? My full attention.
“I’ll play with you,” I say as I stand. “If you’ll show me how.”
His smile expands and brightens like I just offered him a precious gift. My eyes collide with Vanessa where she still rests on the floor and I clear my throat, feeling too tight in my skin and all too hot, despite the cool spring air.
“But first, let’s get into the water,” I say as I grab both Anton and Livia under my arms and run into the cool water of the Mediterranean Sea.
They both yell and laugh and cry out, as Vanessa laughs and joins in, taken in by the joyful moment that can only exist in between clouds. A throaty laugh escapes my mouth. It’s been so long, and it sounds so foreign. Vanessa is suddenly splashing us with water until our eyes burn with sea salt and I protest for a ceasefire, coming closer to shore to drop the kids where the water doesn’t reach above their belly button.
“Again,” Livia claps and throws herself into my arms. It’s natural to twirl her around, then do the same to Anton, who tries to jump back into the water even though he doesn’t know how to swim yet.
Their attention is diverted when Livia spots a fish by her feet and squeals, then runs out of the water, deciding to stay on dry land and play in the sand, covering herself to the neck with it.
I groan. I’ll be cleaning sand from her body for days.
Anton joins her and they build what should look like a sand castle but is just a heap of wet sand.
A hand comes to rest on my shoulder and I turn to take in a smiling Vanessa. Our laughs die down as I take her in fully. Her wavy wet brown hair reaches her slender shoulders and looks darker, saturated with water. Droplets fall from her cheeks and glide against her neck, all the way to her cleavage where her full breasts are covered in the cutest swimsuit I’ve ever seen. A one piece with lemons and green vines on it, cut at the side and the back. It’s cheery and luminous, but also sexy in a subtle way. Just like her.
Her bright eyes meet mine and thoughts leave my head as I take in how round and plush her lips look.
I look away, tightening my fists so I don’t reach out to tuck her hair behind her ear. I reach the shore and settle on my haunches to play with my children for the first time in a long time, not lifting my eyes to the siren in my line of sight.
Satisfied the kids have settled, Vanessa walks to the other side of the beach and lays on her front, reading.
A couple of hours later, the sun sets slowly on the horizon. I pull the sweaters I brought for Livia and Anton to cover them and gather up everything we brought.
Vanessa is swimming in the frigid Mediterranean Sea.
I hesitate.
It’s almost dinnertime. If I miss bedtime, Anton and Livia will never get to sleep tonight.
When I get up to leave, she swims back to shore, her lithe body emerging from the water. Mouth watering and hanging open, I watch as Anton hands her towel he must have grabbed when my attention was stolen away by the mesmerising woman in front of me. She lets him rub his little hands up and down her arms and Livia joins in, giggling.
“I didn’t realise it was so cold already,” she says to no one in particular.
I scrub a hand over my face, trying to remove the images of my nanny’s body from my mind—and failing—before grumbling about catching a cold and needing to leave.
“I’ll take the bus. I’m still wet from my swim and I don’t want your car to get dirty.”
Do not think about her being wet.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Winfrey. You’re not taking the bus.” I turn to my kids. “Come on, let’s go, it’s almost dinnertime.”
Her face falls and I regret that I can’t be anything but a grumbling old man who needs to follow rules. It’s better this way. I can’t allow her to get under my skin like she did today. I can’t look at her with anything but professional respect. My children are all over her and I need to make sure we keep a safe and healthy distance. Their little hearts wouldn’t survive another heartbreak.