The Nanny's Secret

by Kiersten Modglin

  I walk to the bedroom, sliding out of my clothes and tossing them into the pile on the floor. I need to go to the laundromat soon, but I plan to keep avoiding it until I can’t any longer. I walk into the bathroom and flick on the light. A half-empty bottle of his cologne sits on the counter. I lift it to my nose, tears blurring my vision in an instant. I put it down.

  The toothbrush he left is still beside the sink, the one I can’t bear to throw away. I brush my teeth slowly, staring at myself in the smudged, toothpaste-spattered mirror. I hadn’t noticed the tears still in my eyes until this moment, but upon seeing them, more begin to fall.

  I wash my face next, wiping the tears away with the makeup. I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to go to work and get back to normal, pretend like everything is okay. Nothing is okay. Nothing will ever be okay again. I pull my hair down from my bun and run a brush through it. It’s getting long, well past my shoulders now, and needs to be cut, but I have no energy to do it. I have no energy for anything, truth be told. Except for pain, but that doesn’t seem to take much energy at all.

  I climb into bed, too tired to even turn on the television. I hope everything with the Lockes will work out, but it still seems too easy. Even if I don’t manage to screw it up like I expect I will, something has to be wrong with them. They are too nice, too beautiful, too perfect.

  Watching them together today was strange, the way they moved around one another as if they were strangers in each other’s space. There’s a coldness there I can’t seem to understand. They don’t touch, rarely speak directly to one another, yet when they speak to me, it’s warm and inviting. Perhaps being married for so long will do that to you…I wouldn’t know. Now, I may never.

  I lift my phone, though I know there will be no notifications. Without his texts, I have no one to talk to. No one to care that I am still here, still hanging on by a thread.

  The voicemail I can’t make myself listen to or delete still has the blue dot next to it, a constant reminder that his last words to me are waiting.

  I try to listen to it every day, but I can’t make myself. It is too terrifying. I don’t want it to be final, and listening to those words will only make it feel more real.

  I have to move on.

  He is gone.

  He isn’t coming back.

  Chapter Seven

  Olivia

  “John, are you ready for a mid-morning snack? Maya’s fixing fruit salad.” I knock on the door, pushing it open gently after a pause.

  He is on the floor in his gaming chair with headphones over his ears, lost in a video game that seems violent for an eight-year-old. When I step closer to him, he jerks back, pulling the headphones from his ears.

  “Whoa, Liv, you scared me.” He breathes dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest. He points at his screen, adjusting in the chair. “Guess what? I beat level six! Can you believe it? Finally, I beat level six!” He lets out a joyful cry that makes me laugh.

  I smile, sinking to the floor to sit next to him. “What? Good job, John. That’s awesome.” I hold out my hand, and he slaps his palm down for a low-five. “And it sounds like this is a great time for you to get something to eat and come outside with me. Maya has a snack ready for you downstairs if you’re hungry.”

  He raises a lip in an Elvis-like expression. “What kind of snack?”

  “Fruit salad.”

  His tongue rolls out of his mouth in disgust. “Yuck. I don’t like fruit salad.”

  “Well, you should take a few bites so you don’t hurt Maya’s feelings, then I think your mom wants you outside and off the screen for a while.”

  “But it’s Saturday!” he whines.

  “I know it is, but your mom said this morning she wanted you to spend an hour outside getting some exercise.”

  He frowns. “Can’t you just tell her I did?”

  I raise a brow. “No, bud. That would be a lie. I’m not lying to your parents.” I pat my leg. “Come on, let’s go.” When he doesn’t move, I press on, “Just one hour, I promise. Then you can come back and make it through level seven.”

  “Yeah, right. Level seven’s impossible.” He sighs, but stands up and turns off the television, his scowl unrelenting. “Fine.”

  I rest my hand on his shoulder as we head out into the hall and down the stairs. I feel bad for the kid, I honestly do. I mean, sure, he’s richer than anyone I knew growing up. He’ll never want for anything. But Iris has his schedule locked down, nearly to the minute. He rarely has free time and, even when he does, Iris still coaches me on how he should spend it.

  As we near the bottom step, I hear a voice I don’t recognize. John and I head into the kitchen, where a tall, blonde woman with deep wrinkles and cold, startling eyes is in deep conversation with AJ, who looks less than happy.

  When she catches me staring, she tenses her lips, ending the conversation abruptly. “Can I help you?”

  I hold her eye contact. I have no idea who she is, but she isn’t paying my bills, which means I care very little what she thinks. “Nope.” I tug John’s shirt lightly, pulling him toward the dining room to our left.

  When we reach the dining room, Maya is there, pacing in what looks like anger, but I don’t see the fruit salad she’d been preparing minutes ago. “Maya, what’s wrong?”

  She rubs her hands through her graying, brown hair, then offers a smile, though it is obviously conflicted. “Nothing, dear.” She looks at John, gripping her knees and bending over so she can meet his eye. “Sorry, Johnny. I’m afraid your snack will have to wait a while until I’m able to get back into the kitchen again.” She ruffles his hair.

  Lily walks in then, her hair pulled back in the loose ponytail she wears nearly every day, a pen stuck through it. She holds a notebook in her hand. “Everything okay?” she asks when she sees us all.

  “Who is that?” I jerk my head toward the kitchen, keeping my voice low.

  “You don’t want to know,” Maya snips.

  “Cathrine,” Lily says at the same time, a groan in her usually chipper voice. “She works with Orrick and Iris. Trust me, you don’t want to have to deal with her. You guys should go outside and stay out of the way until she’s done.”

  “Done? What is she doing here?”

  “She comes in occasionally,” Lily less-than-explains.

  “And brings the cold from her ice palace with her,” Maya mumbles, to which Lily snorts, pressing a finger to her sealed lips.

  “Honestly, it’s just business stuff. Nothing for you to worry about, but you should go. Take John and let him play for a while.” She looks at John with a warm expression. “You know your mother would want you outside on this sunny day. Go.”

  John groans, suddenly mad about not getting the fruit salad he didn’t want ten minutes ago. We walk back through the kitchen again, not looking at AJ or Cathrine, though their conversation dies off until we are near the front door.

  John darts from the front door as soon as it opens, and I stare out across the yard. The backyard is my favorite place to be, quiet and peaceful, but even just over a week in, I know better than to try and let John play there on a Saturday afternoon when Amos is sure to be weeding the garden. If there is one thing Amos hates more than weeds, it’s anyone interrupting his eradication of said weeds. And, believe it or not, there is little John loves more than to try and help Amos’ process.

  It usually ends in a few choice phrases from Amos and a disgruntled John. Still, the front yard is every bit as nice as the back, with its vast green hills and trees. The nearest neighbor can be seen from where I’m standing, but only barely. The Lockes basically have their own oasis.

  Spying a figure down at the end of the drive, outside the gate, I freeze. I glance behind me, wondering if AJ or Warren know about the guest or intruder, whichever they may be. Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s a girl—woman, I guess. She is probably close to my age. John, completely oblivious to the intruder, is already several yards away, running playfully across the y
ard. I walk toward the gate with apprehension—this is definitely above my pay grade. The woman looks professional, dressed in a cream-colored blouse and brown pencil skirt, both looking a little loose on her. What on earth is she doing?

  As I get nearer, she continues to stare away from me, watching the drive as if she is protecting the house. Just before I reach her, she turns around, glancing at John. Her eyes widen when she sees me. “Excuse me, may I help you?” I ask.

  She gives a small nod. “Hi. I’m Josephine Oliver. Ms. Locke’s assistant. We’re here for the security updates, and I’m just waiting for our technicians to arrive.”

  My heart drops. Iris hasn’t mentioned anything about security updates. Was I supposed to know about this? Shit. Shit. Shit. I try so hard to keep up with everything she throws at me. Then, it occurs to me, perhaps she is lying, looking for a naïve employee to open the gate so she can…do what, exactly? “Mrs. Locke, as in Iris? She didn’t mention you’d be dropping by. I’ll have to check with security before I can let you in.” I touch the pocket of my jeans where my cell phone is. Should I call her? Or just go check with AJ? If she is telling the truth, am I supposed to know about it? How could I have possibly forgotten something so important? I rack my brain, trying to recall any mention of this.

  She quickly interrupts my internal panic. “Oh, sorry, no. Cathrine Locke. I must look pretty awkward just standing out here waiting.” Cathrine Locke? Lily didn’t mention the woman inside was a Locke, too. The woman offers me a small smile, and I watch her eyes travel back to where John is playing off behind me. I look over at him, watching the carefree way he climbs the hill, knowing he’ll be rolling back down soon. “Cathrine’s inside. She told me to wait out here until they came, but it doesn’t feel like I’m doing much of anything.”

  I look back toward the house, remembering Lily’s warning about the unexpected guest. “Right, Cathrine Locke. So you don’t need me to open the gate? Surely she doesn’t want you to wait out there.” She looks awkward, standing in the small space of driveway in between the gate and the road, but when she smiles, it’s sweet and unassuming. I don’t think she’s a threat.

  She lets out a light laugh and shakes her head. “Thank you, but she really was insistent I stay out here. Is that the Lockes’ son?” She steps closer to the gate and points at him. I follow her finger, back over my shoulder to where John has finally noticed my absence. Despite the growing gut feeling I can trust her, my first instinct is to protect John. My response is tight-lipped. “It is.”

  The stranger studies him, her eyes haunted. “I have a nephew about his age. What is he, nine?”

  “Eight,” I say with a nod, wanting desperately to change the subject. “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Olivia, John’s nanny. You said you’re…Josephine, right? What’s your nephew’s name?”

  Josephine tucks her hair behind her ear. “You can just call me Jo. The company likes to keep things formal, but I don’t actually like my full name all that much, so just Jo between us? And his name’s Andy. He doesn’t get to play outside too often, but he’s into video games, big time. How about him?” She leans her head in John’s direction and, recalling our conversation just minutes ago, I all but laugh out loud.

  I look to where he is playing again, expecting to see him heading my direction, but he’s apparently lost interest in me, already back to playing. I give into a laugh as I answer her question. “Five minutes ago, I practically had to pry his fingers off of a controller to get him out here.” Jo offers a sympathetic nod. “I guess it’s just that age, but I’m glad to know I’m not the only one dealing with a video game-obsessed preteen. And you can call me Liv.”

  Before she says anything else, she turns around, and I notice a black van pulling into the driveway. It stops in front of her. On the side, I see the familiar Locke Industries logo that adorns so much inside the Locke home.

  “One second,” she says, the comment directed toward me. I wonder who’s in the van and what she is doing. It all seems so official and important, and I can’t help feeling a little envious that she knows so much about the Lockes and their business while I still have so many questions. A friendship with Jo could prove to be useful for me in getting to know my new employers.

  The driver’s side window rolls down, and a technician in a black baseball hat with the same logo that is plastered on the side of the van sticks his head outside.

  Before he has the chance to say anything, Jo says, “Ms. Locke asked me to send you right in where she’ll be overseeing the installation.”

  The man raises his brow and, with a stoic expression, gives a quick nod before rolling up to the keypad security system and pressing a button. Jo steps out of the way, as do I, and the gate swings open, allowing the van passage. I half-wonder if Jo is going to make a run for it to get inside, but, to my surprise, she stays put as the doors close back.

  She turns back around, staring at me through the metal of the gate.

  “I didn’t think it was possible to have any more security installed here. This place is practically a fortress as it is,” I say, rolling my eyes in jest.

  “I guess they’re beefing it up for some reason I’m not privy to.” Jo shifts in place. “How long have you been the Lockes’ nanny?”

  “I just started last week, actually. He’s a sweet kid, and the Lockes seem…nice.” I pause, desperately wanting to say more, to learn more, but I have no idea how much I can trust Jo. She works with the Lockes, after all. If I say something wrong, she could tell them. “How long have you worked for the other Ms. Locke?” I pause, the last name really bothering me. “Is she any relation to Orrick and Iris, or is that just a strange coincidence?”

  “Almost two years now, but I’ve been with the company for three. Didn’t you know Cathrine Locke is Orrick Locke’s dad’s cousin?”

  Ah, that makes sense. “I thought she had to be his mom or something. It looks like she’s quite a bit older than him.” I put a hand over my lips in an instant, mortified I just said that out loud. “Shit, that was probably rude to say.” Change the subject. Change the subject. “Are they close, Cathrine and Orrick?”

  To my surprise, my slip-up has Jo’s smile warming. “I can honestly say I’m not close enough to know…” Her gaze drifts to the ground and then back up. “But from what I can tell, you wouldn’t know they were even related if they didn’t share a last name, nevermind owning a company together, or at least her being a board member. You know what I mean?”

  I do. I think about Orrick and Iris’ cold behavior around each other, desperately wanting to mention it and see if Jo has any insight. It is hard for me to tell if I am doing a good job when they aren’t forthcoming with their thoughts, but then again, they seem that way with everyone I’ve seen them deal with. Surely Jo might have some insight. “Totally. Between the two of us, I think the same thing about Orrick and Iris sometimes…this whole place seems like a business. Like they’re business partners more than anything. It’s sad, you know? Maybe the Lockes, in general, just aren’t great about showing their relationships.”

  “Or their emotions much at all,” she says, confirming my suspicions. So it isn’t just me.

  Cutting off our conversation again, she turns back around as Orrick’s black Tesla rolls onto the driveway. I wave at him, pressing my lips together in a smile. Jo’s shaky voice carries through the air. “Is that Mr. Locke?”

  “Yep,” I say, then call over my shoulder in John’s direction, “John, your dad’s home!” I wave at the boy, though he isn’t the least bit fazed by my words. He barely acknowledges me, offering a passive wave, and I take a step back from the gate and watch as Orrick pulls toward us and rolls the Tesla’s dark windows down.

  Jo begins fidgeting with her clothes, taking a step toward Orrick’s car, though when his head becomes visible, it is me he looks at, his thick brows low. “Good morning, Olivia.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Locke,” I call, waving again.

  He casts a glance
at Jo. “Is this a friend of yours?” Shit. Maybe she really has lied about who she is. Oh, I am so fired.

  “Good morning, Mr. Locke.” Jo’s voice shakes slightly, and she clears her throat. “I’m Josephine Oliver, Ms. Locke’s assistant. She’s here with the technicians for your new security updates and installations.”

  He nods, and I wait on pins and needles. “Forgive me, Miss Oliver, you caught me off guard. It’s a pleasure to see you, as always. Is Cathrine already here?” I let out a breath of relief, watching with curiosity as they seem to size each other up, Orrick calm and charming as always and Jo worried and obviously shaking, her nervous movements visible even from where I stand.

  “Yes, sir.” Jo seems to drag out her words, savoring the moment of having the full attention of the CEO of Locke Industries. What a weird dynamic. “She arrived just a bit ago, and the technicians are inside, ready to go. She had me out here waiting for your arrival.”

  He looks toward the house, a hint of worry in his eyes, but when he averts his attention back to Jo, he is cool as ever. “Excellent. Well, thank you for giving me that update. Would you like to come inside now that I’m home? You’re more than welcome to. You shouldn’t have to stand outside all alone, even though Olivia provides delightful company.” There is a hint of a smile on his face then, as if he is planning to enjoy having her disobey a direct order. God, the guy is smooth as butter, but I have to wonder where his edge comes from and how he hides it so well, because he certainly seems to have one. Judging by the dark smile on his face right now, it runs deep.

  I expect her to come inside. I’ve never seen anyone say no to Orrick Locke—not his wife, not his employees, not his son, not me. To my surprise, though, she stays still, and when she speaks, it is the calmest she’s sounded throughout their conversation. “Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Locke, but I was given direct orders to wait outside.” She looks back toward the house, and I give her a reassuring nod. What did her boss want her to do? Literally stand outside all day? It’s ridiculous. I can’t understand how anyone would follow an order so blindly. “Thank you, again, and have a wonderful day, sir.”