by Ford, Mia
“Ow,” I say aloud, rubbing the spot; it’s actually quite painful, since the corner of the block hit me.
Alicia tugs her doll closer to her.
“Are you okay?” she asks in a small voice.
I glance at her. So, she does have some concept of what can hurt someone, then.
“It hurts,” I say. “But I’ll be fine.”
Her expression, which is oddly vulnerable and lost, changes abruptly, and Alicia is once more the sullen child that keeps throwing blocks at me. She throwss another doll at me, and then she is off, darting out of the room.
I sigh. I can see exactly how this day is going to go.
* * *
In my dreams, I imagine Seth arriving home, tired from work, to dinner in the oven, waiting for him, his daughter lying quietly in bed, and me waiting to greet him and tell him what a good day the two of us had.
Those dreams don’t involve me sitting, slumped, my head still throbbing. I am absolutely exhausted.
Alicia did not calm at all once she got me with the block, as I had expected. The entire day has been spent running around after her, trying to get her to listen to me. The only time she sat in one place for longer than ten minutes was when she ate the sandwich I made for lunch.
The spaghetti sauce up the wall is a testament to what she did with dinner.
“Zoe?” I hear Seth ask, and I raise my head. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I say, groaning as I sit up; my back hurts. “Sorry, Alicia decided to run around a lot, today.”
“Yeah, but…” He frowns and comes further into the light, eyes on my head. “Did you get hurt?”
“Just a block,” I say, trying to shrug it off.
“I’m sorry,” he says with a sigh, walking to the sink.
I watch as he wets a cloth with cold water. Then, before I can ask him what he’s doing, he returns and presses it to my forehead.
There’s a slight ache on the wound. But that’s nothing compared to the spark that goes through me at how close he is standing as he studies my forehead, frowning. He’s so close that I can smell his cologne; an earth scent that makes me dizzy.
“I probably should have warned you before you took the job,” he says quietly, forcing me to think about what he’s saying. “But I was desperate for a nanny, and I didn’t want to scare you off.” He pauses. “Are you scared off?”
“I’m a bit scared of her aim,” I joke, and then shake my head, wincing at my headache. “No, I’m not.”
“Alicia… She’s young enough not to entirely realize the consequences of her actions,” Seth says. “But she does realize that the way she behaves is what drives the nannies away. Yvonne, my last nanny… She almost broke her back tripping on a car that Alicia put on the stairs for her. The nanny before her, Georgia, finally gave up at the worms in her hair. The nanny before her, Joseph, quit when Alicia trapped him in the shed out the back all day…with spiders.”
I can’t help but snort. “She’s definitely creative.”
“I don’t know how to get her to stop,” Seth admits. “I’ve tried, but I just end up buying her more toys or taking her to theme parks when she cries because I’m never home. She hasn’t actually hurt anyone yet, but…”
“You’re scared she will as she gets older,” I finish.
“Knowing that, now, I fully understand if you want to quit,” Seth offers.
It’s the smart thing to do. A little girl that tries to maim her nannies to get them to quit, not realizing that what she’s doing is dangerous? Common sense tells me to run.
But it’s my heart that makes the final ruling. I still remember the way Seth’s eyes lingered on me at the interview. I lift my shoulders, and his eyes dart down quickly before he wrenches them back up.
It isn’t just about Seth, though. Alicia is a lonely little girl. It’s hard not to see that. She’s lonely because she misses her father terribly, and she has no other children to play with.
I don’t know if there’s actually anything I can do about it. But I can’t leave yet.
“No,” I say again, not missing the way Seth sighs in relief. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Seth says with a small smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
“I’m not sure I would have told you, if our situations were reversed,” I assure him.
I stand and stretch. My top hitches up slightly, uncovering my stomach, and I look through my lashes at Seth to see him staring again. It makes me feel good, and brave enough to put a hand on his shoulder, which twitches in surprise at the sudden touch.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I say.
“Yes, tomorrow,” he says.
I turn to leave. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk, and I hide a smile. With Seth or with Alicia…all isn’t lost yet.
Chapter Seven
Zoe
Today, I am determined to succeed.
Armed with new information, I march to the front door of the Grays’ house (or, rather, their mansion), and ring the doorbell. When Seth opens the door, looking thankful that I am there at all, I give him a firm nod.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Good morning,” he greets. “Alicia is just finishing breakfast. We’re running a little late today.”
“That’s okay,” I say. “Are you about to head out?”
“Just now,” he says with a nod. “Let me just say goodbye to Alicia.”
He disappears into the kitchen, and then returns. He lifts his eyes to look at the red bruise on my forehead, and his lips twist.
“Sorry,” Seth offers.
“It was an accident, anyway,” I say dismissively. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine.”
“Thanks,” he says.
Then he’s gone, the door swinging closed behind him, leaving me in the entrance, alone. I can hear the clink of metal as Alicia eats her breakfast in the kitchen, and I steel myself before going in there.
“Hello, Alicia,” I say.
Alicia looks up. Her expression is glum, and I have the feeling that Seth has spoken to her this morning about yesterday. Like her father’s, her eyes linger on the bruise on my head, then she looks away.
“…‘lo,” she mumbles reluctantly.
That’s more of a reaction than I got yesterday without Seth to prompt her. I smile; maybe my idea isn’t so far-fetched after all.
I clean up the few dishes on the sink, which were left over from Seth’s dinner last night, which he appears to have found in the oven, thankfully, since I forgot to tell him about it. Before long, Alicia finishes her cereal, and she runs off.
Instead of following her, today, I calmly clear off her bowl. From what I’ve gathered from her behavior, both yesterday and what I’ve witnessed from over the fence in the past, Alicia doesn’t leave the grounds alone, even when no one is around. I’m not concerned about her leaving the area at all, so I can leave her be for a bit while I consider my next step.
It turns out, however, that not following Alicia is unexpected. As I dry the dishes and put them away, I see Alicia peering inside out of the corner of my eye. She looks unhappy, as though I’m refusing to play a game that she loves. I watch as she pulls back her arm and throws a teddy bear - the very bear that she hit me with first yesterday - at me.
It doesn’t reach me. It just falls to the floor soundlessly on the tiles, and I quietly dry the plate I’m holding. Then, once I put it away, I walk over to pick up the teddy bear.
With Alicia’s eyes on me, I put the bear in the highest cupboard in the kitchen, and return to the dishes.
“That’s my bear!” Alicia cries, dashing into the kitchen.
“I know,” I say calmly. “But you threw the bear at me. I don’t think he would like that very much. When you apologize and ask for it politely, you can have it back.”
Alicia goes red and her small hands clench at her sides. Then she turns and runs out. I listen to her footsteps on the stairs, and then all is quiet.
She doesn’t return by the time I finish the dishes, so I walk up the stairs myself, unhurried. There are several rooms up here, all of them with shut doors, and I’m curious to know what they all are. I wouldn’t mind seeing Seth’s room…and then I shake the thought away, because I have more important things to think about right now.
Alicia’s room has a cute sign on the door with her name inscribed on it, so I knock politely first. When there’s no answer, I open the door.
A toy car lands at my feet.
“Looks like this car needs to be put away too,” I say with a shrug, picking the car up and walking away.
I open the door nearest Alicia’s room and smile when I see it’s a linen cupboard. I put the car on the top shelf and put it away. Before I can close the door again, however, a hard doll hits my back. Fighting not to wince, I pick that up too and put it with the car.
Then I turn to look at Alicia, who is standing in the hallway, angry and upset. There are tears in her eyes, and I remind myself not to be suckered in by them; she needs to learn that she can’t just throw things at people whenever she feels like it.
I don’t intend to be target practice for her every time I come to this house.
“Give them back!” Alicia demands.
“Not until you apologize and ask nicely,” I repeat.
She goes back into her room and slams the door. Deciding not to disturb her, I head back downstairs and enter the living room, snatching the remote as I go. Alicia didn’t want to watch television yesterday, but I’ve been dying to try out this massive, mounted screen.
I turn the volume down low, only half paying attention to the house show that’s playing. As such, I hear when Alicia’s door opens quietly. She pads down the stairs, and I keep my eyes on the television.
But I’m still aware. When a tiny table, something from a dollhouse, comes flying my way, I catch it before it hits the floor, and tuck it away in my pocket.
“That’s mine!” Alicia yells.
“Not until you apologize and ask nicely,” I remind her.
She lets out a strangled scream and stamps her feet, angry tears running down her face. She’s not used to her things being taken away from her, it seems. I feel a little bad for a moment, before I remember why I’m doing this. Alicia is five; she’ll be starting school next year. She needs to learn that she can’t act like this before she goes.
I can’t lecture her, though. A lecture will go in one ear and out the other for most five-year-olds. No, it has to be something that has an impact on Alicia.
Spoiled as she is, Alicia is definitely noticing as some of her many belongings are taken away from her, one by one. It makes no dent in the amount of toys that she has, but she knows the concept of “mine” very well, and it won’t sit well with her that I’m essentially “stealing” her toys.
She seems to have wised up to my tactics, however, because she throws herself to the floor when I don’t react to her mini-tantrum, and starts banging blocks together, making as much noise as possible. I keep my eyes on the television, deliberately ignoring her, despite the fact that I can no longer hear what they’re saying. I’m tempted to turn the volume up, but that’s a childish thing to do; I have no intention of getting into a noise war with a five-year-old.
There’s frustration on Alicia’s face. She doesn’t understand why she isn’t getting a rise out of me. She doesn’t know why I’m not running after her, or making, to her, funny faces as she throws things at me. And she doesn’t understand why I’m taking her things away and demanding that she apologize for throwing them in the first place. I wonder, for a moment, how her other nannies had dealt with her behavior. Had they just let it go in the hopes that she would get better, too scared to really do anything because of who her father is?
It’s a little sad. Poor Seth is doing his best, but there’s a reason he needs a nanny. Busy as he is, he needs help looking after and educating his little girl. But no one seems to want to teach her.
Well, someone obviously taught her to aim, I amend, as a block hits my knee.
“Give me candy,” Alicia demands.
I look at her incredulously. Seriously?
“No,” I say, picking the block up and putting it on the highest shelf on the bookshelves.
I turn around in time to see her scrunching her face up.
“Give me candy!” she yells.
“No,” I reply calmly. “You’ve been very naughty, Alicia. You shouldn’t throw things. If you’re good, I’ll give you some candy.”
But this isn’t the answer she wanted. Alicia screams, her face going red, and bangs her fists on the ground. I watch her, stunned at the display; she’s in full-on tantrum-mode.
Should I stop her? I’m wary of getting in the way of her flailing fists. None of my siblings had tantrums like this, though Nina used to stand there and cry until she started hiccupping.
Maybe the best thing to do is to ignore her, for now. I don’t think there’s anything I can say or do to calm her down, not unless I’m willing to give in and give her both candy and her toys back. The idea tempts me, just to make her stop, but I shake my head at myself. I arrived this morning with the resolve to figure out how to at least stop Alicia from throwing things at me.
Of course, I know that it isn’t going to be easy, especially with Alicia so determined to drive me from the house.
So, I sit back on the couch and turn to the television again, watching her out of the corner of my eye. I can’t hear anything over Alicia’s screams, but I can see the houses, and I study the layouts with interest.
Eventually, Alicia’s screams stop, as she realizes that I’m not paying any attention to her. She’s gulping in breaths of air, and there are streaks of tears running down her cheeks. Her nose is running, too, and she’s accidentally broken one of her toy cars as she hit out at everything around her.
Only then do I move. I take some tissues from the box on the coffee table, and kneel down beside Alicia. Her eyes watch me as I gently wipe her face and nose, clearing away the tears and the snot.
Then I pick up the broken toy. Some of the lights have come off, as well as the tailgate, but it’s nothing a little glue can’t fix. I move to stand and carry it away, but I pause when I realize that Alicia is still just watching me quietly.
“Would you like to come and fix this with me?” I ask, holding out the car.
Alicia’s eyes dart to the toy.
“You can fix it?” she asks.
“I can,” I say with a nod. “We just need to be careful with the glue. Would you like to help me?”
I smile when, ever so slowly, Alicia nods.
* * *
I hear Seth walking through the hall cautiously, perhaps looking for anything that is broken. When he comes in, I smile at him from where I am cleaning the table, wiping away the evidence of dinner.
“Hello,” I say cheerfully.
“Hello,” he replies, his brow furrowed as he puts his briefcase on a chair, loosening his tie. I watch as he reveals smooth skin, and I drag my eyes away. “How was your day?”
“Not bad,” I say, shrugging. “You?”
He doesn’t answer, just stares at me with a frown. It’s not the expression I would like to see on his face, especially while I am bending over the table.
“You don’t have to lie,” he finally says.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Who said anything about lying?” I ask, a little indignant that he would accuse me of that.
“So, what happened?” he presses.
Then I realize what the problem is. Seth is used to coming home to a problem. But, today, there weren’t many.
“Well, I guess Alicia was a little reluctant to go to bed,” I muse. “But she ate both lunch and dinner today. Oh! Be careful, there’s a toy car on the table in the living room, it’s drying. We had to glue some parts back on it.”
“Why?” Seth asks.
“Alicia had a tantrum and broke it,” I say dismissively.
Seth groans. “What was the tantrum about?”
“She wanted candy,” I say, eyeing him carefully. How would the father that gives his daughter everything take my actions today? “I refused to give it to her.”
“Wait… Really?” he asks, taken aback.
“Well, I was half tempted to just give it to her when she started screaming, but I held strong,” I say wryly. I pause and then decide to just tell him everything. “And, just in case; there’s a bear at the top of this cupboard, a doll and a car in the linen cupboard upstairs, and a block on the top shelf in the living room. I put them there after she threw them at me.”
“What?” he asks, incredulous.
“I told her she needed to apologize for throwing them and ask for them back nicely,” I add. “She didn’t do either, but she did stop throwing things at me after we fixed her car.”
Seth is still staring at me, like he doesn’t know who I am all of a sudden. I don’t like that look, and it makes me nervous as I finally give up on washing the table and straighten.
“Is that okay?” I ask after a long silence.
Suddenly, Seth laughs.
“You know, you’re not the first nanny to try and discipline Alicia,” he says, shaking his head. “Did it work?”
“As I said, she stopped throwing things,” I say, relieved at his reaction. “She wasn’t impressed, though.”
“I can imagine,” Seth says with another bark of laughter. “What did the two of you do after that?”
“Mostly watched television,” I say. “It was a pretty quiet day. I think she was worried I’d take more toys away from her. I didn’t,” I added, just in case he got the wrong idea.
“Not bad,” Seth muses. “So you fed her, kept her quiet, and got her into bed, and you even disciplined her successfully. That’s…more than I expected, to be honest.”
“Honestly?” I say. “I’m not a qualified nanny, Seth, and I’m sorry that that was worrying you. But I told you that I looked after my younger siblings. “I’m just…using what I remember from that.”
