Granted, there had been times she’d been awake and she’d heard him come in and check on Nell, but it would have been nice if he was there sometimes when she was awake. He’d told Michelle he’d be home early enough to do so tonight. And he wasn’t. Thank God she hadn’t said anything about it to Nell and gotten her hopes up.
She slithered out of her sweatpants into a pair of jeans, giving her hair a cursory brush. Her terrycloth slippers were a bit ratty, but oh well. There wasn’t much she could do about that.
She joined him in the kitchen, where he had just pulled a bowl of blueberries out of the refrigerator. He took a few spoonfuls, then put it back.
“Those are good.”
“They are,” Michelle agreed.
“Has Mrs. Guttierez been accommodating with all the foods you’ve been asking her to buy?”
“Very much. I think she’s relieved, actually. She wasn’t too happy, either, that—” Michelle halted.
“I was feeding Nell badly?” Esa supplied.
“You were feeding her the way a bachelor uncle would,” said Michelle politely. “Which is to say, badly,” she couldn’t resist adding.
“But no permanent damage done?”
Not on that front, Michelle thought. “Not as far as I can see.”
“Good, good.”
She thought of Marcus’s upgraded description of Esa from “totally smokin’” to “stunningly gorgeous.” She’d concede he was “totally smokin’” but “stunningly gorgeous” sounded too much like a description of Angelina Jolie.
“Can I get you a glass of wine?”
Michelle gave him an odd look. “Water’s fine.”
“Yes, of course.” Esa looked sheepish. “I’m an idiot. I meant water, but I was just out to dinner and had some good wine . . . I forgot for a moment the, uh, situation.”
Michelle didn’t know whether to be flattered, or annoyed. He forgot for a moment the situation . . . did that mean he was simply seeing her as a woman, not a nanny? Why would she care, anyway? Marcus’s voice hijacked her brain: Because he’s smokin’ hot, dumbass! And being noticed by someone who’s smokin’ hot is major!
“It’s all right,” Michelle assured him.
“Do you mind if I have some wine?”
“No, of course not.”
Michelle sat down at the kitchen table, quietly watching as he poured himself a glass of pinot noir and some water for her. She found herself wondering where he’d been out to dinner, and with who. Probably one of those busty blondes Marcus said was always on his arm on the gossip pages. Wasn’t like she was going to ask him. That was one of her most important rules: private lives stayed private.
“Here you go.” He sat down across from her, handing her her glass. “Are you enjoying working in this kitchen?”
“Yes, very much.”
“And Nell—is she enjoying what the two of you eat?”
“You should ask her. Better yet, you should join us sometime.”
Esa looked away guiltily. “Mmm. I know.” But when he turned his gaze back on Michelle, he sounded annoyed. “I told you I wanted to tuck her in tonight. But she was already in bed when I came home.”
“Her bedtime is eight thirty, Esa. Not ten thirty. I explained that to you.”
“Couldn’t you have made an exception?”
“Maybe, if it were the weekend. But it’s not. I want her to stick to this schedule on school nights.”
“Of course,” Esa mumbled.
“You wanted to talk to me?”
“About my schedule.”
“Yes?”
“In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not someone with a normal schedule. Not only is it not nine to five, but it changes every week in terms of what nights I play. In a few weeks the team will start taking road trips.”
“I know that,” Michelle replied easily.
Esa looked puzzled. “Did we talk about this already?”
“Well, I’ve mentioned it to you a few times, but I guess you forgot,” Michelle murmured. “I told you: I need your actual schedule.”
“I’m so sorry,” Esa said, rolling his wineglass between his hands as he avoided her eye.
“You’re lucky you’ve hired someone who knows the deal when it comes to hockey schedules. My brother and father are fans.”
Esa looked up with a pleased smile. “Blades fans?”
“Islander fans.”
“Your brother didn’t mention that when I met him.”
“Too starstruck.”
Esa clucked his tongue. “Islanders fans . . . that’s too bad.”
“For the Blades, I hear.”
“I don’t know who your sources are, but take it from me, they’re dead wrong,” Esa insisted with a playful smile.
“We’ll see.”
Michelle took a sip of water, buying herself time to return to professional mode. Banter, teasing each other a bit . . . it felt weirdly off course, somehow. They didn’t know each other long enough for that. She’d reached a point of comfort and ease with Mr. and Mrs. Karle, but that was after living with them for two years. And there was two of them, as well as a live-in housekeeper and cook. It wasn’t just her and a bachelor.
“About your schedule?” she prodded.
Esa blinked. “Right.” He reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out his iPhone. “We just got it finalized. I’ll e-mail you a copy. Actually, you can look at it now, if you like.”
A minute later he was leaning over her, one hand on her shoulder, showing her his schedule on the tiny screen. Michelle followed his slim index finger as it ran down the weeks. “See? I need you to be flexible.”
She took a deep breath. “Esa, I told you, I understand that.” Her eyes scoured the schedule. “This is perfect. It’ll help me pick my days off. I do insist one of those days is Friday or Saturday, remember?”
“Of course,” he said after a split second. Michelle could tell from his ruminative expression he was thinking about how he was going to juggle dates with various women if he couldn’t go out both Friday and Saturday.
Michelle expected him to immediately return to his side of the table. She held her breath, acutely aware of his body beside her. Instead, his hand lingered for a moment on her shoulder before he removed it and sat back down. “Thank you, Michelle,” he said quietly.
“Hey, that’s what you pay me for, right?” she replied amiably, more for her own benefit than his. His hand on her shoulder? She liked it. Not enough to really think about it, though.
“Now I have something I need to talk to you about,” Michelle said.
“I know, I know. My running here and there,” Esa replied with a hangdog expression.
“You really need to spend more time with her,” Michelle admonished softly. “I know your schedule is nuts, but you do have some free time.” She paused. “She starts school a week from Monday.”
Esa once again checked his iPhone, then looked up at Michelle with what could only be described as a “stunningly gorgeous” smile. “I can take her.”
“Oh, she’s going to be so thrilled!”
“You’re coming too, right?”
Technically, there was no reason for her to go if Esa was taking her.
“That’s up to Nell. She might like you all to herself.”
“But you’re the one who went with Nell to tour the school, met with Nell’s teachers, dealt with the paperwork, got Nell all the supplies she needed, including her uniform. Of course you have to be there.”
Michelle looked at him inquisitively. “Are you afraid of taking her on your own?”
“Of course I’m not,” Esa scoffed. “I just thought it might ease her nerves even more if we were both there.”
“I see. I’ll talk to her and get back to you. Anything else you want me for?”
For some weird reason, the question didn’t sound the way it was meant to, as it just hung there in the air for a few seconds.
“I’m fine.” Esa stood. “I’ll let
you get back to what you were doing. Thank you for accommodating me.”
Sounds sexual, said the Marcus in her head, in a formal, Finnish kind of way.
“That’s my job.”
Now you sound like his escort, honey.
“I have practice early tomorrow, but I’ll leave Nell a note on the kitchen table, okay?”
Michelle smiled. “She’ll like that.”
“Good.” Esa took a small sip of wine. “Well, good night.”
“Good night,” said Michelle, hoping he didn’t escort her back to her bedroom. Thankfully, he didn’t. She was glad to see her ice cream hadn’t melted into a creamy puddle as she hopped atop her bed with the bowl in her lap. It didn’t matter, though; she’d lost her appetite.
10
Esa wanted Nell to have the best education money could buy, and judging by the tuition for Philips-Jackson, she was going to have it. The fees were astronomical, but according to Michelle, it was worth it. There were girls from all over the world there, so she wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. In addition, the academics were tough and Nell was smart. The headmaster had promised Michelle that Nell would be “challenged, but not overwhelmed.” Esa had been impressed when Michelle showed him the list of extracurricular activities the school boasted. There would be more than enough for Nell to get involved in if she wanted.
The first day of school arrived, along with Indian summer. It was sunny and hot, steamy as only a day in Manhattan could be. He and Michelle would be walking her to school. Leaving the apartment and hitting the street, Michelle had reached for Nell’s hand, but she warned her off with a glare that reminded Esa of his sister. “I’m not a baby, you know.”
“Got it,” Michelle replied. Esa shot her a look over Nell’s head. Michelle just shrugged.
“Are you nervous?” Esa asked his niece. Dumbass. Of course she was.
“Not really,” Nell replied nonchalantly.
“Well, that’s good. I mean, it’s okay to be nervous.”
Nell looked at him. “I know that.”
Esa nodded his head stupidly; at least it felt stupid to him. See? You can’t even connect with her on the simplest level. Even the easiest question sounds forced. You should have said good-bye to her at the apartment. You should have left this to Michelle.
He wanted to tell her how much she looked like her mother, but at least he was smart enough to know that was a dumb idea. Talk about screwing a kid’s head up on the first day of school. He knew it would “take time,” but he hoped a day would come when she would ask him questions about Danika and what she was like as a little girl. He hated to admit it, but he didn’t want to talk about Danika just so she’d be alive in Nell’s head; he wanted to talk about Danika to keep her alive in his head.
“You know,” said Michelle, looking down at Nell with unabashed affection, “I had to switch schools when I was ten, and on the first day, I puked all over my desk.”
Nell looked horrified. “That is sooo gross.”
“I know. And soooo embarrassing.”
Nell was goggle-eyed. “Did people make fun of you?”
“Yep. They called me Michelle Barf for a while, but then everyone forgot about it and things were fine.”
“That’s good,” Nell replied, looking relieved.
Michelle tugged on her braid. “So don’t worry about being nervous today, because you’re not the only one who’s new to the school. I’ll bet you anything there’s more than one puker in the bunch, don’t you think, Uncle Esa?”
“Of course. And nose pickers, too.”
“Eeewwww!”
Esa and Michelle both laughed. The silence that collided against the end of the shared laugh made him feel self-conscious. He wondered: would others dropping their kids off at the school assume he and Michelle were Nell’s parents? The thought of it almost made him laugh again.
He heard the twitter of the girls before he saw them. The six-story, ivy-covered school was set far back from the street, down a brick, tree-lined walkway between two town houses. The closer he, Nell, and Michelle drew to the school’s courtyard, the louder the twittering. The endless cacophony of high little voices made everything sound so urgent. Esa fought the urge to take Nell’s hand. This had to be tough for her. Thank Christ she had Michelle.
Once in the courtyard, Nell stared down at the ground nervously. Michelle was giving the premises a careful once-over. “There are tons of girls who are here for the first time,” she told Nell. “Tons.”
Nell looked up at her. “How can you tell?”
“I was a teacher once, remember? Trust me, kiddo: I can tell.”
Nell braved a small smile.
Michelle nodded in the direction of Nell’s backpack. “You got everything?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll stay here with you until the bell rings.”
Nell looked up at Esa. “Will you stay, too?”
“Of course I will,” he said, hating that she needed this reassurance from him.
“Good.”
Esa made a point of not looking at Michelle. She didn’t seem the “I told you so,” type, but Nell’s question had to make her feel justified in admonishing him to be a greater presence in Nell’s life.
Finally, the school bell rang, and girls started filing in, though some looked reluctant. There were a handful of small ones who started to cry and cling to their mothers, or maybe they were nannies.
Michelle looked down at Nell with an encouraging smile. “You ready to roll?”
Nell nodded nervously.
“I could tell,” Michelle stage-whispered, looking at Nell with utmost confidence.
Nell looked a little teary. “And you’ll be here when I get out of school?”
“Yup. Standing right here.”
Esa could feel what was coming next.
“Will you be here, Uncle Esa?”
“I wish I could be, but I can’t. I have a game tonight.”
Nell’s voice sounded very small to him when she replied, “Oh.”
Esa found himself madly scrambling to take away his niece’s look of disappointment. “Maybe you and Michelle could come to see me play one night. Would you like that?”
“Mmm . . . maybe.”
“Just maybe?”
“It looks sort of boring,” Nell confessed, making Michelle laugh.
“Well, you just think about it,” said Esa.
Michelle drew Nell into a bear hug. “All right, Missy Miss, you better get inside. Remember: I’ll be here when you get out.”
Nell nodded bravely before letting Esa hug her—briefly.
“Have a good day!” he and Michelle called out in unison, as Nell, back ramrod straight and shoulders thrown back as if she were off to do battle, marched through the front door of the school. Laughing in unison, now talking in unison. It meant they were on the same page. About Nell.
* * *
Sooooo . . . that’s that, Michelle thought as she and Esa stood together awkwardly in the school courtyard.
“I think she’ll be all right, don’t you?” Esa asked.
“She’ll be fine,” Michelle assured him. “She’s a trooper. As you know. It meant a lot to her that you were here today.”
“I’m glad.”
Did it mean anything to you? Michelle wondered. She supposed it said something that he’d made the effort; after all, he’d rolled in at two in the morning. She’d been up with insomnia, fretting about Nell’s first day. That’s how she knew. She didn’t know what Esa had been out doing, and she didn’t want to know, as long as he didn’t break his promise to Nell.
The courtyard was clearing out. Michelle readjusted the sunglasses on her face. She couldn’t believe how hot it was. If she stood here in the sun much longer, she was going to stroke out.
“Where are you off to now?” Esa asked.
“Home—I mean, to the apartment—”
Esa smiled, pleased. “Which you will think of as your home, I hope.”
“I do, it just felt weird saying it. Anyway, back to the apartment. I wanted to tidy Nell’s room a bit, and do our laundry.”
“Ah.”
“You?” she asked. He’d asked her what she was doing. Why couldn’t she ask him? She just hoped his answer wasn’t “home.” It would be too weird doing stuff around the apartment with him there, too. She’d feel compelled to make conversation with him, just like she was doing now.
Esa looked at his watch. Michelle knew it was expensive; the New York Times was always running full-page ads for it. She had no idea what the name was. Until a watch was invented that cooked, cleaned, helped get rid of cellulite, and convinced her brother that their father wasn’t always one step away from death’s door, she was content with using her phone.
“To the gym. Then to lunch with a friend. Then to Met Gar.”
Michelle smiled, unsure of how to respond. “I better run.” She started away, but then turned back to him. “What time does your game start tonight?”
“Seven thirty. Why?”
“I’ll see if Nell has any interest in watching some of it before she goes to bed. She probably won’t. It’s not like she’d be watching the Islanders, you know?”
Esa laughed lightly. “If I ever catch you trying to brainwash my niece into liking them, you’ll be very sorry.”
“I see. Well, we’ll see how she does with the Blades. But don’t be surprised if she chooses to watch Good Luck Charlie instead.”
Michelle could tell from the blank expression on Esa’s face that he had no idea what she was talking about.
“It’s a kid’s show. One of her favorites.”
Esa nodded. Then, almost shyly: “I should probably, maybe, try to find these things out.”
“Might not be a bad idea.”
Esa looked uncomfortable, running a hand through his black hair. Michelle noticed it was so black it almost bore shades of blue. If anyone asked her about his hair color, she’d say “Raven.”
“Look,” he said, glancing around the courtyard as if they were spies in danger of being discovered, “why don’t we go back to the apartment, make some coffee, and you can tell me all the things I should know about Nell.”
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