15. Carolina
Chapter fifteen
Carolina
W hat I did not realise about taking care of school-aged children was how quickly the school day goes by. After I take Berg’s lunch to him, I head to the grocery store and run some other errands. By the time I get back, I basically throw the frozen stuff into the freezer and fly out the door. The street outside the school is bumper to bumper with cars here for pick up. It’s completely different from the day I came to get them early. I squish into a parking spot and climb out to wait for the bell to ring. Parents stand in small groups together, laughing and talking. I try to imagine what group Berg might fit into. There are dads in suits, a group of moms with babies in strollers, and I even spot some grandparents. I decide that all the burly, blue collar dads are still hard at work. When kids pour out of every exit en masse, I have no clue where I’m going to find them. I bite my lip, worrying that Louisa won’t remember the new routine, even though we discussed it. I spot the pink hoodie I suggested she put on beneath her jacket and make a beeline for her before she can get swept away.
“Lou!” I call, smiling when she sees me.
I’m so focused on greeting Louisa and making this change to her life a positive one that I don’t even notice the woman who inserts herself right between us. She’s close to my height, but the three inch heels make her appear taller. Her shoes blend seamlessly with her skin, which is unusually tan for this time of year. Note to self: figure out self tanner before shorts season arrives. The brief thought of the scorching sun on my face gives me a moment of peace before bitch mode overtakes me. I’m so distracted by her outfit and calves that I take a second to place her. It’s Milly’s mom.
“I can wait with you, Louisa,” the woman says, using a voice better fit for a toddler than a kid who is reading chapter books like a champ.
“Hi. I’m Carolina.” I stick my hand out for a polite handshake, but she doesn’t take it.
Great. It’s going to be like that?
“Oh, are you new to the after school program? Are you taking her to care?”
“Um, no. I’m here to pick up Louisa and her sister, and will be for the foreseeable future.”
I sidestep her and wrap my arm around Lou, who leans against my hip in as much of a symbol of solidarity as a seven- year-old can make. We’ve had some pretty good quality time together the last couple of days, and I like to think we’re bonding.
Natalie comes around a corner to meet me where we discussed.
“Ah, perfect. The gang’s all here.”
“She’s our new nanny,” Natalie says proudly.
Tamara plasters a smile on her face. “It’s about time. I’ve been suggesting that to Berg for so long. Wait!” She presses a palm to her forehead. “I know you. I almost didn’t recognize you without all the,” she gestures to her face, “you know. Mud.”
She’s known Berg for years? Again, I wonder if there’s a history there, but it’s totally none of my business. I fish my keys out of my bag, beep the lock, and let the girls run ahead to get in.
“That looks cosy for two kids.”
“It’s the perfect fit,” I say, deciding against flipping her off on school property.
“Since Berg will have more free time now, tell him to call me, would you?”
I grit my teeth, wondering if I could delete her number from his phone without him knowing. I recognise that I have zero claim over this man, but there’s no mistaking the jealousy I’m feeling towards her. She’s everything I’m not. Well off. Poised.
And rude.
I’m not anything like her and I don’t want to be .
“Hey, girls?” I pause, remembering the credit card in my bag. “Who wants to go shopping?”
The decibel level is enough that Tamara hears it loud and clear.
I might not be rich or have a big car that can fit the girls and their friends or have anywhere to wear a skirt suit, but I am fun. And I’m determined to be the best damn nanny I can be.
***
Louisa and Natalie bounce happily through the mall, each of them holding bags with their new spring clothing stuffed inside. Nat is in her denim era, and picked out several pairs of jeans and overalls. Louisa’s bag is a blur of pink and purple dresses, but we got shorts to wear beneath them all. My only worry is that we went overboard, but I couldn’t resist. Shopping with them was a blast. They slow their pace in front of a busy salon, looking longingly at the ladies in the stuffed leather chairs.
“Have you guys had pedicures before?”
They shake their heads and I check the time on my phone to see how close to dinner it is. I’d be lying if Tamara’s manicured look didn’t cross my mind.
Screw it.
“Let’s do it.”
They have space, so I usher the girls toward the chairs, instructing them to take off their shoes. An adorable older woman presses lightly on my shoulder, directing me into my own leather chair.
“Oh, no.” I hold up my hand in protest. “Only for the little girls. Just two.” I display two fingers and point to the girls.
“Mom too,” she says, using an impressive amount of force as I fall into the smooth padded leather.
She presses a button that sets the chair to vibrate beneath me.
“Oh…oh.”
Tension slips from my shoulders instantaneously.
The same woman is slipping off my shoes, and I don’t have the willpower to resist once my toes dip into the slightly scalding water.
“This is the life,” Natalie says with the inflection of a woman who’s had a rough day.
Lou leans back in her massage chair, head only coming halfway up the backrest as she sighs.
“Don’t get used to it,” I tell them.
But, really, I’m reminding myself.
***
The text that he’s running late comes through right as I’m placing supper in the oven. The sink is full of dishes and I used every single cutting board in the process of assembling the recipe for sheet pan tacos. I send a selfie of me trying to give a thumbs up despite wearing an oven mitt. The kitchen chaos behind me is an unfortunate sight .
Caro: Got it. Still happy with your new hire?
Berg: I don’t give two shits about what my kitchen looks like if my kids are fed and loved.
I smile, his praise feeding a part of me I didn’t know felt hungry.
By the time the girls and I sit down to eat, the dishwasher is running and I’m feeling slightly more in control of the situation.
“Do you guys want to do your highs and lows?” I ask, noticing they are subdued.
“We always do that with Daddy,” says Natalie, flicking a piece of lettuce off the top of her taco.
“Oh, okay. We don’t have to.”
Shopping and pedicures and singing along with the radio on the drive home? That was the fun stuff. But now I’m into the ‘real’ part of the day, and I’m worried I’m screwing it up.
“My high was the pedicures!”
My heart swells a little at Louisa’s enthusiasm, but then her face falls and her shoulders slump.
“My low is that Daddy missed the supper. He’s not going to see how good I grated the cheese.”
“There are lots of leftovers. I’ll make sure to tell him that this beautiful cheese is all your doing.”
“Does that mean he won’t be here for bedtime?” Natalie looks insulted by the idea.
Clearly, the novelty of the fun nanny has worn off for her, and I try not to take offence. This is a huge change for them. Berg running late on our first day probably isn’t the best timing. It’s up to me to set the tone, though.
“Sure you don’t want a turn, Natalie?”
Her response is the chair legs skidding across the floor as she grabs her plate and mumbles, “May I please be excused from the table?”
“Yes, of course.”
I glance at Louisa, and I can only hope she’s still on my side.
***
An hour later ,and Lou is crying so hard she can barely catch her breath. I can hear her even from the living room where I’m on my hands and knees looking beneath the couch for her stuffed octopus.
“I’m looking for it, Louisa! I promise!”
“I…need…Leggy!” she wails.
“Can you help me look for it, Natalie?”
“I did,” she says, glancing at me for a nanosecond over the top of her library book.
Bedtime is not going well. In fact, I'm not sure it could go worse. I barely ever drink, but even I could use a glass of something right about now. Natalie is coping with Berg’s absence through cool indifference toward my struggle, and Louisa’s mood has been deteriorating since supper.
“It’s your bedtime too, Nat. Brush your teeth.”
She sighs, but closes her book the first time I ask and heads to the bathroom.
“Wait. The shopping bags!”
I rush to the girls’ room, smiling at Lou in what I hope is a reassuring way, as I rifle through the paper bags. I know we had that damn octopus at the mall.
“Yes!” I exclaim when my hand closes around one of Leggy’s tentacles.
I pretend to swim across the bedroom and make the octopus attack Louisa’s tummy.
“Leggy!”
If I expected the crying to stop immediately, I was wrong, because her face scrunches up as she clutches the purple octopus to her chest, soaking it with her tears.
“You are one tired girl,” I say, shutting her door and turning out all but one light on her dresser.
“Can I lie down with you?”
“Is my Daddy home yet?”
I shake my head, pulling some hair off her damp, hot cheeks.
“Should we talk about all the things you’ll tell him at breakfast? About your new clothes and the pink toenail polish you chose–”
“And how I grated the cheese so good?”
I laugh, rolling my eyes a bit that of all the things we did today, helping me in the kitchen is the activity she can’t stop talking about. Slowly, Lou’s breathing becomes steadier as I trace my fingers along her back on top of her purple pyjama top .
“Atta girl,” I whisper, not daring to leave until I know she’s settled.
I think fitting in an afternoon at the mall was too much for her after a day of school. A few minutes ago she was pushing all my buttons, but now as her eyes flutter shut and I see her tiny fingers circle the fabric of her stuffed animal, I’m melting. They’re sweet girls who’ve had a wrench thrown into their routine. The door creaks as Natalie comes in. I give her a smile, holding a finger over my lips. I point at Leggy to show her I found it, and I feel lighter when she returns my smile and gives me a silent thumbs up. Natalie slowly climbs the ladder to the top bunk, obviously losing some of her steam too. I don’t move a muscle as I wait for them to fall asleep.
With a sigh of relief, I slide from the bed, leaving the lamp on in case somebody wakes up. I lean against the doorframe, weary but triumphant as I glance at the sleeping girls. Peaceful silence fills the house, and it’s hard to believe that a mere hour ago chaos reigned.
“Goodnight, sweethearts,” I whisper, blowing a kiss from the doorway, heart filling with a sense of attachment I’m not sure I should have.