Hip Check

by Deirdre Martin

  “He took a shift at the firehouse,” she replied. “He gets double pay plus overtime.”

  “That’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing him.”

  “Got you a little something,” Michelle’s dad said to Esa, whose eyes shot to Michelle’s questioningly. She shrugged. She was as much in the dark as he was. The impish look on her dad’s face as he handed Esa his gift worried her. Her father and Uncle Micky had been known around the firehouse for their off-color gifts. If he’d bought Esa a book of dirty jokes or one of those pens with a woman on it in a bikini that disappears when you turn it upside down, she’d kill herself.

  Michelle found it hard to gauge Esa’s reaction when he opened her dad’s gift and held it against him: it was an Islanders jersey with his name on it. But as a slow smile spread across his face that turned into an appreciative laugh, Michelle’s worries abated. Things would probably go well today. It might even be a blessing her brother wasn’t here.

  39

  “My turn!”

  Michelle’s father had a childlike grin on his face as he handed the Magic 8 Ball over to Nell. Dinner had gone well: she’d outdone herself in the cooking department, and Esa and her dad seemed to get along just fine. Even so, Michelle could see when Esa stopped actually enjoying her dad’s needling and started pretending to enjoy it. It was all in the tightness of his smile. Her dad, thankfully, remained oblivious.

  The thing that mattered most was that Nell was having a wonderful time. She’d been thrilled when Michelle had produced traditional British Christmas crackers. They tore them apart and everyone, including Esa, who wasn’t known as someone who liked to look ridiculous, wore the paper crowns they found inside. A feeling as soothing as sinking down in a warm bath suffused Michelle when, at one point, she’d glanced around the dinner table. The word that came to mind was “family.” This was her family. And right now, her family was playing with Nell’s Magic 8 Ball waiting for their food to settle a bit before dessert.

  They’d been having a blast passing the ball around, their questions ranging from the mundane (“Will it rain tomorrow?”) to the outlandish (“Are Chihuahuas really tiny aliens?”). Nell loved it. Which is why she had one arm outstretched, fingers wiggling impatiently at Nell’s dad, who was cradling the ball.

  “Wait a minute, kiddo,” he said. “I think if you’re over sixty you’re allowed to go two times in a row.”

  “I think not, Ed,” Nell said primly, making the adults laugh as she took the ball from him.

  Nell closed her eyes, her hands cupped around the black plastic ball as if it were cradling something sacred. “Will Michelle and Uncle Esa get married?” she intoned, shaking the ball hard. She opened her eyes. “It says ‘Yes’!” She looked at Esa and Michelle excitedly. “It does!”

  “It’s just a game,” Esa reminded her with an indulgent smile.

  “But it could happen,” Nell insisted. “I’m going to ask again!”

  Michelle contemplated stilling her hand and telling her she was being silly, but that would look suspicious. It was just a game.

  Nell closed her eyes, asked the same question again, shook the ball vigorously, and opened her eyes. “It says ‘Without a doubt’!” she squealed. “You two are getting married! I knew it!”

  “Nellie.” Michelle’s dad’s voice was gentle. “It’s just a game, kiddo. It’s not based on anything real.”

  “Yes, it is! Uncle Esa and Michelle are going out and they could fall in love and get married, so it could happen!”

  Michelle wasn’t sure how to characterize the silence that ensued. “Awkward” and “uncomfortable” seemed a little too flimsy. Maybe uneasy? No, no. no. She was beating around the bush. The word was embarrassing.

  “I didn’t know Michelle and Uncle Esa were going out!” Michelle’s dad said to Nell with a false brightness that made Michelle want to cringe.

  Nell nodded seriously. “Oh, yes.”

  Michelle’s father’s eyebrows shot up, looking like twin mountain peaks. “Well, that’s interesting. Michelle didn’t say anything to me—and I’m her dad!”

  Nell looked at Michelle quizzically. “How come you didn’t say anything to your dad, Michelle?”

  “Because I didn’t want to make a big announcement,” Michelle explained to Nell—and her father.

  “Telling your own father you’re dating someone isn’t making a big announcement,” he insisted, “unless it’s something you’re ashamed of.”

  Nell wrinkled her nose in confusion. “But why would Michelle—”

  “She wouldn’t be,” Michelle cut in softly. She went to fix her eyes on her dad, but his gaze was already locked on Esa.

  “What about you? You have anything to say?”

  “Me?” Esa replied coolly. “No.” He playfully snatched the ball from Nell. “My turn!”

  * * *

  After playing with the Magic 8 Ball, Michelle had thought for sure her father would tell Nell that dinner had made his belly rumble and he couldn’t stay for dessert. That had always been one of his favorite ways of escaping an uncomfortable situation. But instead he’d stayed, which could mean only one thing: he wanted to talk to Michelle. She supposed it was necessary, if only to fill in some of the blanks. But she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  “Do you want to talk to him together?” Esa offered after they’d put Nell to bed. They were standing in the hallway outside her bedroom. Michelle’s dad was in the living room watching Sports Center.

  “That obvious, huh?” Michelle hadn’t said a word to him about her father wanting to talk.

  “Yeah.”

  “You know what? I think I’ll talk to him on my own,” Michelle decided aloud. “I’m an adult, for God’s sake. It’s not like we’re two fourteen-year-olds who were caught screwing around in the basement.”

  Esa wrapped his arms around her. “Well, I’m here if you need me.” He kissed her mouth softly. “Today was wonderful. Nell was so happy.”

  “I know.”

  “I was happy, too,” he said.

  “Even though my dad wouldn’t shut up about the Islanders?”

  “Even with that.” Esa looked down at her, his expression so serene it almost brought tears to her eyes. “Were you happy today, Michelle?”

  Michelle leaned her forehead against his chest for a moment, laughing softly. “Well, my day isn’t quite over yet.” She looked back up at him. “But so far? Yes, very happy.”

  “Here’s hoping it stays that way.”

  * * *

  “You know I don’t beat around the bush.”

  “I know that, Dad.”

  “Never have, never will.”

  “True.”

  “So when I tell you that I’m shocked, I’m not joking. What the hell is going on here? Are you crazy? You could destroy your reputation!”

  “Dad.” Michelle sat next to her father on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her. She was close enough to see the needle-fine network of red lines on his cheeks, and just how dark those black arcs beneath his eyes were. He looked tired, but she’d thought that even as a little girl. True to his word, he had cut right to the chase.

  Michelle reached for his hand. “I’m not going to destroy my reputation. But since that’s the first thing you mentioned, let’s talk about that first.”

  Her father shook her hand off angrily. “Michelle, you’re not a goddamn teacher trying to reassure some overwrought kid!”

  “Wrong. That’s exactly who I am, because I have to be. I don’t want to get into some stupid, unnecessary argument with you when you don’t even know what’s going on.”

  Her father looked insulted. “Who said anything about arguing?”

  “Gee, Dad, I don’t know. Maybe I thought something like that could happen because you told me you were shocked, asked me if I was crazy, and informed me I could destroy my reputation, all in the space of thirty seconds?”

  Her father looked peevish as he hoisted himself forward to pour himself a glass of w
hiskey. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to think?”

  “What were you thinking before Nell spilled the beans? Probably that Esa was a really nice guy, and that it was great that Nell seemed so happy and well-adjusted, right? Right?”

  Her father’s expression turned resentful. “Yeah, but—”

  “No buts. That’s the thing: no buts. Esa is a really nice guy. Nell is happy and well-adjusted.”

  “He’s also your boss. I seem to remember a very dedicated nanny who took her Code of Ethics very seriously. What happened?”

  “Look. You know me. Do you think this is something I would ever have courted in a work situation? Ever?”

  Her father took a long, slow, sip from his whiskey. “He seduced you, didn’t he?”

  “Oh my God. No, he did not seduce me.” She reached for one of the small gingerbread cookies on the plate on the coffee table and tore off its head with her teeth. “Do you realize how insulting it is to me when you say that? It makes me sound like I’m some helpless little girlie who’s been overcome by the big bad hockey player—”

  “With a reputation for fucking everything that moves,” her father finished sharply.

  Michelle hit right back. “I’m not everything that moves.”

  “Oh, so you’re special. Did he tell you that?”

  “Goddammit, Dad,” Michelle cursed as she snapped off the gingerbread man’s left leg. “Will you stop for a minute and let me talk?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “I’m the last person who ever thought she’d be in a situation like this. I’m sure every nanny who has ever gotten involved with her employer has said that. But I don’t care about those other nannies; I care about me and Esa and Nell.

  “Of course we tried to avoid this! The only way to really do that would have been for me to stop being Nell’s nanny, but considering how much that kid’s been through, that seemed like a bad idea. Believe me, the last man on earth I ever saw myself getting involved with is Esa Saari, okay?”

  Her father threw his hands up. “That’s what I don’t understand! You know what he is, but you get with him anyway?”

  “I know what he was.” Michelle leaned forward, elbows on knees, cradling her forehead on an open palm. She suddenly felt incredibly tired. It had been a long day, and it was catching up with her: the cooking, the playing with toys, the worries about her father not liking Esa, and now this. This—which was all her fault. Because in trying to avoid making “a big announcement,” she’d instead created a tangled ball of confusion, mistrust, and suspicion that her father was going to kick Esa’s way. She should have said something to her dad on the telephone before he came over. “Look, just so you know . . .” Something like that. But would he have come over if she had?

  Michelle slowly lifted her head. Her father was looking at her expectantly.

  “I’m not asking you to try to understand something even I don’t understand, okay? All I ask is that you give me some credit here. I’m not a stupid woman, nor am I naive or gullible or easily taken in. So when I tell you that Esa and I are having a relationship, and it’s good, and that the two of us with Nell feel like a real family, all I’m asking is that you accept what I’m saying is true. You don’t have to like it, but please accept it. Because the relationship isn’t going away.”

  Her father shook his head, incredulous. “This isn’t my Michelle.”

  Michelle made a fist, punching her thigh. “Dad, it is! You just refuse to believe it because the situation is so unconventional.”

  Her father snorted. “I’ll say.”

  Indignation stabbed at Michelle like an adrenalin needle to the heart. “Excuse me?”

  “Honey, have you stopped to think what kind of message you’re sending Nell, the two of you sleeping together?”

  “I know you won’t believe it, but yes. The message she’s getting is honesty. Creeping back and forth in the night is crazy; it makes it seem like what we’re doing is something to be ashamed of, when it isn’t. Seeing the two of us together also makes her feel that much more secure.” Michelle paused, picturing Nell asleep in bed right now. “It makes her feel like she’s part of a family,” she finished softly.

  Her father grimaced. “Except the three of you aren’t a family, Michelle. He could fire you. He could break up with you and tell you he’s looking for another nanny and that he never wants you to see Nell again.”

  “He would never do that!”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “That is the point!” The apartment seemed to gasp in silence at the sound of Michelle’s raised voice. She hoped it wasn’t loud enough for Esa to hear. The worst thing that could happen right now would be for him and her father to get into some sort of “discussion.” Both were stubborn men who backed down only if forced. She’d be cleaning blood off the walls and floors for days.

  “That is the point,” Michelle repeated, a little less vehemently. “He would never hurt Nell.”

  “Four months ago he didn’t give a shit about the kid. Now you’re nominating him for Uncle of the Year?”

  Michelle slipped her hands beneath her legs so her father couldn’t see her balling them into tight fists. “He’s trying, Dad.”

  “I don’t care about him. I care about you. What happens to you.”

  “Which brings us back to the fact that I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”

  Her father heaved a deep sigh. “All right, all right, I get it. I just . . .” He shook his head sadly.

  Michelle stood. “You just what?”

  “I’m just disappointed with you, okay? Now that the shock’s worn off, I’m disappointed.”

  “Disappointed,” Michelle repeated blankly. She licked her lips. “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. Is it?”

  Her pain began recombining itself with anger. “Creating a loving, safe home for a little girl who’s been through a huge trauma is the work of someone you’d call a ‘disappointment’? Interesting. I’m just glad Nell has someone to help her navigate all this, Dad. I didn’t. I’m sorry you feel disappointed in me, but I’m not going to apologize for the way things have evolved.”

  Her father pushed himself up off the couch. “I should take off.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.” She forced herself toward the kitchen. “Let me at least make up some leftovers for you.”

  “No, no, don’t worry, I’m fine,” he called after her.

  “Okay. If you say so.”

  Michelle changed tact and walked toward the front hall, her dad following suit. She felt like they were in the concluding moments of some depressing Arthur Miller play as she helped her father put on his coat. There was such sadness here, but there was also an overwhelming sense of impotent rage, at least on her part.

  “Have you got everything?” she checked.

  “Yep. All good.” There was an awkward pause as Michelle opened the apartment door. “Thanks for having me for Christmas, kiddo. Thank Esa, too.”

  “Of course.”

  “When do the three of you get back from London? Friday?”

  “Yeah. Around seven.”

  “You’ll call me when you get back?”

  “No, Dad, you’ll never hear from me again.” Being a wiseass helped ease some of the pressure in her chest.

  Her father leaned in for a quick hug. “Love you, ’chelle.”

  “Love you, too, Dad,” she managed. She started walking with him out into the hall but he told her she didn’t have to, he was fine, he was capable of going down to the street and hailing a cab himself. Michelle took the hint, read the subtext. Love you, ’chelle, but I really don’t like you right now. No, worse than that. I’m disappointed in you.

  He’d never said that to her before. It hurt more than she could have imagined. She felt a white hissing behind her eyes as tears tried to push themselves free, but she refused to cry. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

  40

  “We’ve
been here for an hour and a half. If I were a betting woman, I’d say we’re not going to get out of here for at least another two hours.”

  Michelle heard Esa’s groan as they followed Nell to another carefully staged grouping of plush, stuffed animals. They were on the ground floor of Hamleys, London’s largest toy store. When Michelle had read that it was two hundred and fifty years old, with seven floors, she thought: who would want to miss that? The answer was: no one. It was mobbed. Every family in London, tourist or native, seemed to be here, and together they’d melded into one chattering, heaving mass of slowly dissipating goodwill. The smart, sane reaction would have been to turn around at once and leave at the sight of wall-to-wall kids and their parents. But Esa had made the mistake of telling Nell, long before they hit the store, that she could have any stuffed animal she liked; Nell wasn’t going anywhere. It was insane to be buying Nell another present—they’d celebrated Christmas two days ago—but Michelle understood the impulse: they were having dinner with Esa’s parents tonight. Esa was simply letting her pick out a reward ahead of time.

  Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her jeans. She let the call go to voice mail; she didn’t want to be one of those obnoxious people who talked on their phone no matter where, no matter what. But then it rang again. When she pulled the phone from her pocket and saw who the caller was, she knew she had to take it.

  * * *

  “Just take a slow, deep breath, okay?”

  Michelle knew Esa was trying to be helpful, but she didn’t want to take a slow, deep breath. She wanted to wail in fear at the top of her lungs that her father was going to die, and it was going to happen when she was in a plane somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.

  Still, she did as he asked, more for Nell’s sake than anything else. Her poor girl looked petrified.

  “Better?”

  Michelle nodded.

  They were in Michelle’s hotel room, waiting for a car to pick her up to take her back to Heathrow. Nell sat frozen in place at the room’s ornate desk, never taking her eyes off Michelle, watching, waiting. “C’mere.” Michelle pat the empty space beside her on the bed. It looked for a minute as if Nell wasn’t going to move—or worse, couldn’t—but then she clambered up beside Michelle, who put her arm around her.