The Girl and The Raven

by Pauline Gruber

  Arnold stops outside of Mrs. Douglas’ study. He knocks.

  “Mrs. Douglas? I’ve brought Lucy to meet with you.”

  “Thank you, Arnold.” Her voice is muffled through the door. “Come in, Lucy.”

  I pause, my trembling hand reaching for the doorknob. I can turn around and leave. They’ll be mad, sure, but they won’t be out any money. I look up and meet Arnold’s kind eyes. He nods. I take a deep breath and walk inside.

  Mrs. Douglas rises from the chair behind her desk and extends her pale, thin hand. I shake it carefully. Her blonde hair stops at her shoulders—exactly—and not a single strand is out of place. Her light blue blouse and jacket match exactly the color of her eyes and her white dress slacks are crisp and unwrinkled.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Douglas.” I make eye contact just like Bernard and Sheldon made me practice last night.

  “It’s good to meet you, too, Lucy.” She turns back to her desk. “Here are your instructions, which we will review shortly.” She hands me a thin cream-colored file similar to the kind Henry uses at his office. My eyes are nearly blinded when the huge diamond ring on her left hand catches the light. I’ve never seen anything so large and wonder how she manages it with her tiny hand. “First, I would like you to meet the children.”

  She wears high heels, even though Arnold told me we’re never permitted to wear shoes in the house. I guess the rule only applies to the help.

  As we leave the study, Mrs. Douglas points down the hall to our right.

  “The master bedroom and my dressing room are that way. There will never be a reason for you to enter either of those rooms. Is that understood?”

  I bite my tongue and think hard about the car I’m going to buy with the money she’s paying me.

  “Yes, Mrs. Douglas.”

  I follow her as she heads left and we walk back to the living room, then go right, passing a room full of loaded bookshelves. A library? The maid murdered the professor in the library with the candlestick. I smile.

  We pause in front of a door and Mrs. Douglas knocks.

  “Brandi, I would like you to meet your new nanny, Lucy Walker,” she announces as we enter the little girl’s room. The room is adorable, with cream-colored walls and large pink wooden block letters spelling out her name. The canopy bed is made up with pink sheets and ruffles. Her comforter is filled with images of Disney princesses. A girl with disheveled dark blonde curls plays with Barbie dolls on the large pink and green rug in the center of the room. What I would’ve given to have this kind of set-up when I was her age.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Brandi.” I crouch down to meet her at eye level.

  She wipes the sleep from her eyes.

  “Lucy?” Brandi asks as she cocks her head to the side. “You have a funny accent.”

  “That’s because I’m from Tennessee. A state that’s about a ten hour drive south of here.”

  “Ten whole hours?” Brandi’s eyes grow wide.

  “You should show Lucy the map in the playroom after breakfast,” Mrs. Douglas suggests. “She can show you where Tennessee is in relation to Illinois.”

  I’m surprised at how formally she speaks to her own daughter. No hugs or kisses either. Granted Momma and I rarely hugged, but that was different.

  “Lucy, I would like you to braid Brandi’s hair each morning. I don’t want her having a head full of tangles.”

  “Mom?”

  The boy in the doorway is dressed in blue jeans, a button down shirt and belt. His hair is neatly combed.

  “Ethan, I would like you to meet Lucy Walker, your new nanny.”

  Ethan approaches me, his hand extended. “It’s good to meet you, Lucy. I think you’ll find it enjoyable working with Brandi and me. We’ve got busy schedules, but we’re never difficult.”

  I can’t help but smile. Ethan is ten, but he talks and dresses like an adult. His mother doesn’t hug him either. “Mom, is Dylan still coming over today?”

  “I left him a message and asked that he wait to come over until the weekend.” Her tone and posture are stiff. Is that her reaction to all things Dylan? “Today isn’t a good day.”

  I’m with Mrs. Douglas on this one. Today is definitely not a good day for Dylan to visit.

  Disappointment flashes across Ethan’s face and I expect him to push back, but he simply nods.

  “Lucy, children, please accompany me to the kitchen.”

  Brandi jumps to her feet and the three of us race to keep up with Mrs. Douglas. I meet Charlene, the family’s cook, while the children take their places at the table. Breakfast is ready—scrambled eggs, turkey bacon and fruit salad.

  Mrs. Douglas runs down the kids’ schedule.

  Swim lessons, reading lessons, piano lessons, all laid out with down-to-the-minute precision. Ethan and Brandi don’t have much free time. I wonder if the goal is to keep them so busy they don’t notice their parents’ absence.

  “Are you listening?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” I look up from the file, careful not to show that I’m offended by her tone.

  “After lunch on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Brandi has piano lessons…”

  Her face doesn’t move when she talks and when she smiles, it’s one of those fake, condescending smiles—the kind where her eyes don’t crinkle in the corner like a normal person’s eyes. She looks kind of evil.

  “…note that her piano lessons are scheduled later in the day next week to accommodate art class.” She sets her file on the counter and taps it with her perfectly manicured fingernails, then glances at her watch.

  “Do you have any questions? If not, I need to leave for an appointment.”

  The pressure of her gaze makes it impossible to actually think. I give up and shake my head. “Not right now.”

  Mrs. Douglas reminds me to read the rest of the file, especially dietary restrictions. Junk food and sugar are a big no-no and dairy must be kept to a minimum. She’s also included emergency contact information. The file suddenly feels very heavy in my hands. What have I gotten myself into?

  Mrs. Douglas hugs Ethan and then Brandi, peeking at her watch over the young girl’s shoulder. She grabs her purse off the counter and heads toward the door.

  “Lucy?”

  I turn to Charlene.

  “What can I make you for breakfast?”

  I sag into a chair. “I ate at home. Thanks.”

  Charlene looks to be in her early thirties. Her light brown hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail. She wears khakis and a pale pink button down shirt. Based on the wedding ring on her left hand, a simple gold band, I assume she doesn’t live here with the family.

  “Do you work here every day?” I ask as she wipes down the stove.

  “Monday through Saturday, eight to six.” She dries her hands on a dishtowel.

  “Wow, that’s an intense schedule.”

  She shoots me a puzzled look. “Why, what’s your shift?”

  “Nine to five, Monday through Friday. Today’s an exception, though, so Mrs. Douglas could get me up to speed. Although, to be honest, my head’s spinning right now.” I scowl as I sift through the papers in the file.

  I glance up in time to see Charlene raise her eyebrows and slide a sideways glance at the kids, who break out in a fit of giggles.

  “I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

  “Oh, Lucy.” Charlene gives me a sympathetic smile.

  “What?” I ask again, but the kids focus on their breakfast while Charlene busies herself with scrubbing pans.

  After breakfast, Ethan retreats to his room to get ready for his swim lesson. Meanwhile, I help Brandi dress, and together we fill her backpack with books, a notebook, coloring books and crayons. Ethan meets us in the kitchen carrying a backpack that’s almost bigger than he is, with two separate straps crossing over his chest. He looks like he’s ready for some kind of camping adventure in the woods.

  “Do I need to check your bag to see if you have everything?” I ask, recalling t
he checklist in the file.

  “No. I can do this in my sleep. Thanks, though.”

  We say goodbye to Charlene and head out the door. As we file through the living room, Ethan’s massive backpack bumps into a statue and it teeters. I dive to set it right. With shaking hands and a stomach full of lead, I can’t get Ethan and Brandi out the door fast enough. I need to escape this house.

  At the swimming complex, I hand Ethan over to his coach. Brandi and I settle into a couple of plastic chairs. As she starts to read one of her books, I jot down the date and time on a sheet torn from Brandi’s notebook, logging her time per the instructions in the file.

  Once Brandi is engrossed in her book, I slump back in my chair. My thoughts turn to Marcus. He has wings. I can’t get the image out of my head. Or the feeling of being in his arms. My belly fills with a strange weightlessness as I recall being pressed against his naked chest, his arms wrapped around me tightly. I cross and uncross my legs, as my whole body tingles. If he’s not a witch or a demon, then what is he? I don’t think I’ll find out anytime soon. Marcus has disappeared since the night he saved me. And I don’t know if Persephone and Henry are any closer to identifying the intruder.

  “Lucy?” Brandi’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

  “Yes, Brandi.” I turn my attention to her.

  “Can we take turns reading to each other? With all the noise in here, I can’t concentrate.”

  “Sure. Do you want me to start?”

  She shoves the book at me.

  It’s a story about a girl who learns to do magic from a fairy. An image of Marcus fills my thoughts again and I quickly push it away. My attention needs to be on the kids I’m being paid to watch.

  We pass the book back and forth. Whenever Brandi stumbles on a word, I have her sound it out a couple of times and, if necessary, I pronounce it for her and explain what it means.

  “It’s your turn, Gram.” I hoist Black Beauty onto her lap.

  I snuggle against her. I close my eyes and inhale her happy, flowery smell. “I don’t want to go home tomorrow.”

  Her arm curls around me. “I don’t want you to go, either, but your mom would miss you. She needs you.”

  I pull my head back and stare at her. “You keep telling me that, but it’s not true.” I cross my arms over my chest, my chin dipping. “When I’m home, all she wants is for me to get out of her way. To leave her alone.”

  She goes out a lot, too. And we never have enough to eat. I want to tell on Momma, but I can’t. She already warned me to keep my mouth shut or I won’t be able to come here anymore.

  Once Ethan’s lesson is done, Brandi and I pack her bag and wait outside the boy’s locker room for him to shower, change and pack his bag. Afterward, we meet Arnold at the car and head back home. I glance at my cell phone, checking the time. Next big item on the agenda: Brandi’s piano lesson after lunch.

  “Hey, Dylan’s here!” Ethan yells as we pull into the parking garage. “I knew Mom couldn’t keep him away.”

  The car is barely parked before he flings open the door and races out.

  “Ethan, you forgot your bag!” I call after him.

  “Don’t bother, Lucy.” Brandi gives me a doe-eyed stare. “Ethan worships Dylan. He won’t listen to you.”

  “Great.” I sigh. “What happened to that super respectful boy I met earlier?”

  “That wasn’t for real.”

  I’m about to grab Ethan’s massive backpack, when a tan, muscular arm reaches into the car and retrieves it for me.

  Dylan.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dylan, Ethan, Arnold and Brandi walk through the front door and I bring up the rear. So far Dylan has completely ignored me.

  “I nailed it on the hundred yard freestyle and the fifty yard butterfly. You should’ve seen me. I flew through the water!” Ethan tugs his brother’s arm. “Coach said I’m going to smoke at Regionals.”

  “I’m sorry I missed it, little man.”

  Dylan turns to me and his face tightens.

  “So you’re the new nanny.”

  “Her name is Lucy Walker,” Ethan volunteers. “She’s from Tennessee.”

  “Tennessee?” Dylan raises an eyebrow. “You’re a long way from home, Lucy Walker.”

  “She has an accent—kind of weird—but it’s not hard to understand like Gita’s.”

  I frown at him. “I’m right here, Ethan. Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room.”

  He ducks his head and grins. “Sorry.”

  “Gita was our other nanny,” Brandi explains. “She moved back to Poland.”

  Dylan shoves his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts and his gaze travels from Ethan to me. “Her accent isn’t weird at all. Southern girls are a special breed, little brother. Very special indeed.”

  I recognize the sudden brightness in his eyes and the cocky smile. My stomach churns. I can’t tell if he’s seriously flirting with me, which would probably get me killed by Ella and Caroline, or if he’s one of those guys who tosses girls aside when he gets bored with them. All I know is that I really don’t like him.

  “Ethan, go unpack your swim bag now, please,” I grab Brandi by the hand and lead her to the kitchen, where I find a note from Charlene saying she’s at the grocery store. How long will it take Dylan to tell Ella and Caroline that I’m the hired help? Worse still, how long before Dylan thinks he owns me?

  It was a huge mistake taking this job. I am way out of my league.

  “What do you want with your turkey sandwich, Brandi?”

  “Celery with peanut butter and raisins.” She climbs onto a stool next to the island. “Do you know what that’s called?”

  I smile at her and swallow, gripping Charlene’s note tightly so she won’t notice my trembling hand. “Ants on a log?”

  She beams at me. If there’s one reason to keep this job, it’s Brandi.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, Tennessee.” Dylan strolls into the kitchen. I roll my eyes at his exaggerated swagger.

  He steps into my personal space so I take two steps back. My skin prickles and I realize I’m a little afraid of Dylan. “Back off.”

  “Oooh…little girl wields a big stick,” he taunts.

  I step around him to grab the natural peanut butter, raisins, and celery from the fridge, along with the sandwiches Charlene made before she left.

  “What do you want to drink?” I ask as Ethan races into the room.

  “We’re supposed to have water,” Brandi says, staring at her brother as if daring him to disagree.

  “I want pop!” Ethan yells.

  Dylan leans against the island and watches me.

  “Water it is.” I really wish he would leave.

  After the kids are served, I move to put the celery and peanut butter back in the fridge. Dylan steps in my way.

  “I recognize you.” His eyes narrow and he snaps his fingers. “The beach! I saw you there with…Ella and Caroline.”

  I stand tall and take a deep breath. Like Sheldon and Bernard said, I can quit this job. There will be other jobs. I just have to make it through the day.

  Over Dylan’s shoulder, Ethan and Brandi are busy moving their celery train cars loaded with ant passengers along the countertop.

  “You remember me. I know you do.” A sly grin spreads across his face as his gaze sweeps over my body. “You looked pretty good in your suit. You could use a little something extra up front and in the trunk, but you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  My cheeks burn and I swallow hard, shrinking away from him.

  “You aren’t the typical girl my father hires. He likes blondes. And they’re usually legal. You’re what…sixteen?” His voice is soft, his face inches from mine. “Let me guess. Your family owes him money and you’re working it off. Is that it?” He smiles and the skin on the back of my neck prickles. “If you’re nice to me, maybe I can put in a good word for you.”

  My throat is on fire as I lean toward Dylan, my voice low. “
If this is how you talk to girls to get their attention, I feel sorry for you. You’re pathetic. It’s no wonder your stepmother doesn’t want you to spend time with her kids.”

  His bravado shrivels before my eyes and for a second I regret such a low blow. I’m guessing family life isn’t easy for Dylan. But if I let him intimidate me, he’ll never stop. I know his type. I’ve dealt with them my whole life.

  I shove him out of the way and finish putting the food in the fridge. While the kids finish lunch, I open the file of instructions and pretend to be engrossed in them. Before he leaves, Dylan hugs his brother and sister, then gives me a dismissive wave.

  While Brandi is busy with her piano lesson, Ethan and I lie on the thick carpet of the playroom and read. There’s no priceless art in this room. It’s filled with furniture that people actually use. So far this is my favorite room in the house.

  While my intention is to read the Hobbit, an all time favorite, I stew over Jude Morgan and our meeting tomorrow night. A shiver passes over my skin as I recall his ink-colored eyes, the shock of his touch, his deep, commanding voice. I steel myself against the fear. Persephone wants me to meet with him, so how dangerous can he be?

  My thoughts jump to Marcus and Dylan. They’re both good looking, but Dylan is a total jock and a major jerk. I’m guessing if Dylan had been on the roof with me the night of my birthday, I’d have fallen to my death without him lifting a finger.

  “Earth to Lucy.”

  I look up from the book I wasn’t reading. “Yes?”

  “What do you think of Dylan?” Ethan grins. “Isn’t he awesome?”

  If Dylan’s going to keep showing up, I really don’t think I want this job. “If you say so.”

  “Dylan’s totally cool.” His voice grows louder. “Girls chase him all the time. They call him and slip him notes at school. I know because he shows them to me. He’s a total chick magnet and he’s the star of his football team.”