by Emily Bishop
“By the way, that uniform looks good on you.”
I look at my pale blue dress, which has a jabot collar, big, white buttons in the middle all the way to the waistline and three-fourth sleeves. It’s not the typical nanny’s uniform, I guess. Carol said she designed it herself, with the goal of making it not look so stringent or intimidating, just light and comfortable, hopefully conjuring happy thoughts.
It does seem to have that effect on Randall, though I’m pretty sure Carol meant it for the children and not the fathers, which in turn makes me blush.
“I guess you were right, too, when you said you never got off work, huh?” he adds.
I fidget with my skirt. “I work full-time, after all.”
He taps his fingers on his desk. “Then I guess we’ll just have coffee here at home.”
I look at him in surprise. He still wants to have coffee with me?
“Or maybe you hate coffee?”
“No, I don’t.” Oh, what the heck. It’s just coffee. “Sure. I guess we can share a coffee break, if I have one that is.”
“Of course you do. You can take a break whenever you need.”
I can?
“Actually, you can do whatever you want when David is at school.”
“Do I bring him to school?” I ask.
“No. That’s Harry’s job. You just need to get him prepared for school. It starts at eight-fifteen. He leaves the house about half an hour before that.”
I nod, committing that to memory.
“And by getting him prepared for school, I mean that you just need to get his bath ready, his clothes ready and his bag ready. Mrs. Wilson is also the cook so she prepares breakfast. She’ll cook David’s lunch, too, so you just have to put it in his lunch box and in his bag.”
“Okay.”
“When David comes home, he’ll be under your care. You can help him with homework or whatever he’s doing for school. You can play with him. No computer games on weeknights, though. You can watch TV with him. Basically, you just get to keep him company, provide for his needs, and make sure he follows the rules.”
“What rules?”
He counts on his fingers. “No computer games on weeknights. Bedtime at eight-thirty. Do homework. Read one book per day. Do fifty jumping jacks every other day.”
“Fifty jumping jacks?” My eyes grow wide.
“That’s his prescribed exercise routine. It’s actually very mild.”
I guess it would be if one did fifty crunches, squats, push-ups and what-nots a day, which is what I think he does.
“No sweets after dinner on weeknights. No junk food. Brush teeth after breakfast and before bedtime. No cursing. No pranks.” He looks at me. “I hope you got rid of those plastic bugs.”
“I did,” I admit.
No wonder he asked me to do that.
“Also, you’re in charge of cutting his nails, combing his hair, you know, grooming. And making sure he takes his vitamins.”
“Okay.”
“Also, his dog is his responsibility but it’s your job to give him a bath.”
“Right.”
I hope I remember all that.
“Any questions?” Randall asks, sitting back in his chair.
I touch my collar. “What about rules for me?”
“For you?” He looks confused.
“Do you want me to eat with the maids? Do you–”
“You can eat whatever you want from the kitchen with whoever you like whenever you like, though I hope you’ll eat dinner with David and me.”
“If that is what you’d like.”
“I think that’s it.” Randall places his hand on his desk. “Any other questions?”
I can’t think of any at the moment so I shake my head.
“Sabrina.” He leans forward again, his tone slightly more serious.
“Yes?”
Why is it that whenever he calls me by name, my heart skips a beat?
“The most important thing I want you to do is to make David happy,” he tells me. “And help him be a good person.”
I nod. “I understand.”
Any father would want that for his child and as David’s nanny, I want it for him, too.
“Good.” Randall stands up. “Then I guess it’s time for you to get to know him.”
***
“David, do you remember Sabrina?” Randall asks after we enter David’s bedroom.
It’s a big bedroom, more so than the bedroom I had as a child or any child’s bedroom I’ve seen. It looks like two rooms joined into one, in fact, one of them a fortress-inspired playroom with toys scattered on the floor and arranged on the shelves and another the actual bedroom with an army tank bed, a desk that looks like a rocket, a race car-inspired bean bag and a set of drums in the corner.
Not a very cohesive or organized room but it does seem to belong to a boy with a lot of imagination and a sense of adventure.
At once, I get a glimpse of this boy. He may be causing a lot of trouble but he doesn’t mean any harm. It’s all just play to him, all good fun, which means he isn’t so bad.
“Of course I do,” he answers his father with a pout as he sits on his bed. “I just met her, didn’t I?”
I wonder why he’s being so difficult.
“David, I’m warning you.” Randall points a finger at him. “You have to be polite to Sabrina and give her a chance.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so. You’ve already caused enough trouble for this weekend. Any more and you’ll…”
“What? I’m already grounded for the rest of my life, aren’t I?”
Randall crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you not want to use your computer for the rest of your life, too?”
He doesn’t an answer.
Randall sighs, then turns to me. “I guess he’s all yours. If you have any concerns about him, anything at all, you tell me, okay?”
“I will,” I assure him.
“Good luck.” He pats me on the shoulder before leaving the room.
I take a deep breath.
Okay. Where do I start?
Seeing the Labrador at the foot of his bed, I kneel in front of him. Maybe if I can earn the trust of his dog, I can earn his trust, too.
“Hello, there,” I say to the dog.
The dog just looks at me. Well, at least it isn’t growling.
“You’ve got a nice dog. What’s his name?”
David doesn’t answer.
I look at the dog’s collar. “Zombie? That’s a great name.”
“If you touch him, he’ll eat your brain,” David threatens.
I don’t cower. “Is that right, Zombie? Well, guess what, if you’re a good dog, maybe I’ll let you have a teeny bit of my brain.”
David snorts. “That’s crazy. You can’t give some of your brain to someone.”
“Who knows?” I shrug. “Some say we only use a small part of our brain, after all.”
Another snort. “Maybe you do.”
An insult but I refuse to take offense.
“Besides, crazy isn’t always bad. It just means you think differently.”
David creases his eyebrows. “You’re weird.”
“Weird isn’t always bad, either. Sometimes, it can be even fun.”
David says nothing.
I stand up, looking around. “Wow. You’ve got a really cool room, you know. I wish I had a room like this when I was little.”
Still nothing.
“So, what do you want to be when you grow up – a soldier, an astronaut, a race car driver or a drummer?”
“I don’t want to grow up,” he says.
“Ah. I felt the same way. Sometimes, I still wish I was a child. Still, there are things only grown-ups can do.”
“Like?”
“Like eating whatever you want and going where you want to go and staying up as late as you want.”
“Kristine let me stay up when she was my nanny,” David says. “Will you let me do that?
”
Tricky question.
“We’ll see,” I tell him.
Why not? Even Mary Poppins bent the rules, I think.
“Maybe if you’re behaved.”
David frowns.
“You don’t like that word, do you? Can you tell me why?”
He keeps quiet.
“I guess the rules can be a bother sometimes. I used to hate them, too. But I found out they were for my own good. If you follow your father’s rules now then you can make your own rules later on.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?”
“You’re just trying to be nice to me so you can stay in this house and have my dad’s money or my dad.”
I arch my eyebrows. “What?”
Is that the impression the previous nannies left him?
“You don’t have to be nice to me. I don’t care. I don’t need a nanny and I definitely don’t want one, especially not you.”
All right. I guess he’s finally bared his teeth.
That’s good, though. It’s good that he’s told me how he feels.
I clasp my hands together and approach his bed slowly. “Well, I think it’s good that you don’t need a nanny because I don’t want to be your nanny, either.”
He gives me a puzzled look.
“Frankly, I think you’re old enough to not have a nanny.”
“That’s what I told my dad.”
“But I do think you could use a friend and so could I. I’d love to be your friend.”
“Zombie’s my only friend.”
I glance at the dog. “I’m sure Zombie won’t mind sharing you with me.”
“Well, I don’t want to be your friend,” David says, glaring.
“Why not?”
“Just leave me alone, okay?” David gets off his bed and goes to his fortress, hiding inside the tower.
I exhale. All right. So, maybe this isn’t going to be easy but hey, we’ve only just begun.
I just have to keep trying.
Zombie
Randall
“I’m trying, okay?” I tell Gil over the phone as I swivel my leather chair and put my feet up on the bottom drawer of my mahogany desk. Gil is the CEO of another company who also happens to be my good friend and one of my newest business partners. “It’s just like learning another language.”
“You’re probably the only guy I know who doesn’t like computers.”
“Then I’m the only human on this alien planet.”
“Doesn’t that make you the alien?”
I frown, putting my feet down and sitting up. “I know you’re a geek and all but you’re too smart sometimes. You know that?”
“I thought that’s why we get along – because you have the brawns and I have the brains.”
“Ouch.”
“Just kidding.” Gil chuckles. “Speaking of brawns, you weren’t at that Rockets party last night.”
“No. I decided to pass. I didn’t have a good reason to go.”
“There were a lot of women.”
“I know. I bet you brought one of them home.”
Gil doesn’t comment on that, only letting out another chuckle.
I really bet he did, though. Gil may not be muscled like me but he’s got – what do you call it? – finesse.
“Well, maybe if computers could help me become fit, I’d be more into them,” I say, steering the conversation back on topic.
“That’s what this partnership is all about.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” I rest my elbows on my desk. “So, when did you say that program for the gym is going to be ready?”
“Next week,” Gil answers. “Then you can try it in one of your gyms and, if it works, you can use it for all of your gyms.”
“Awesome.”
“Thank you. So, how’s the new nanny? Is she any good?”
I don’t answer, grabbing the pen on my desk and flipping it.
“Ah. So, that’s why you weren’t at the party.” I can almost see him grinning. “You know, some men actually end up with their kids’ nannies. Look at Captain von Trapp.”
“Who?”
“And Robin Williams, though they divorced.”
I frown. “It’s not that serious.”
“Hey. I’m just saying. Anyway, I have to go. I have a meeting.”
“I know. You don’t have to rub it in that your company makes more money than mine.”
“I’m not. Talk to you soon. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I put my phone on my desk then sit back in my chair, still fidgeting with the pen as I digest that last conversation.
End up with Sabrina? What is Gil thinking?
I want to end up in bed with her, yes. Definitely yes. But marry her? I don’t know. It’s too early for that.
“So, was he at the party?” Tess asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I’ve forgotten she’s standing in front of my desk.
“Yup,” I answer, putting my pen down. “And he had fun. But you know Gil. He likes parties.”
“And what about the software?”
“He said they’re still finalizing the... what was that again? The goo-goo or something.”
“GUI,” Tess says. “Graphical User Interface.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “How is it that you don’t carry around a tablet and yet you know so much about computers?”
“I studied computers a bit.”
“You did?”
“And I do use computers. I just don’t like carrying them around or using them for everything.”
“Of course.” I clasp my hands and sit back in my chair.
Tess writes in her planner. “Well, that’s it for now. You have a meeting before lunch but that’s still in fifty minutes. Do you want to take a break?”
Suddenly, I remember Sabrina’s words. I guess we can share a coffee break.
A coffee break, huh? Well, that could mean one step closer to having her.
I get out of my chair. “I think I will.”
“Be back by eleven.”
I nod, already heading out the door only to realize that I don’t know where Sabrina is.
Now, where, oh, where can she be?
***
After several minutes, I find her in the art room, which contains wooden, marble and metal sculptures as well as paintings, some of which I’ve purchased on my travels and others which were given to me as presents.
For a moment, I stare at her, as absorbed with her standing in the middle room as she is with the painting she’s gazing at.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
“There you are,” I say as I approach her. “Though I almost didn’t see you. I thought you were one of the statues in this room.”
“Nonsense.” Sabrina gives a sheepish grin. “If anyone here looks like a statue, it’s you.”
Is that a compliment?
“Is that coffee?” she asks, glancing at the mugs in my hand.
“Yes.” I hand her one. “I did say we’d have coffee together.”
She holds the mug with two hands and sniffs it. “What’s in it?”
“Caffeine. No hallucinogens or depressants, I assure you.”
“Very funny.”
I sniff my own mug. “Organic Arabica, I think. Brewed, of course. It’s what I always have.”
She chuckles. “And here, I thought you only drank protein shakes.”
“I drink those, too.” I take a sip of the coffee. “I hope it’s not too strong for you.”
“Oh, there’s such a thing as coffee that’s too strong?”
I chuckle.
She takes a sip, stays still for a moment, then nods. “It’s quite good, actually.”
I smile. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I told you I’m not allergic to coffee.” Sabrina sits on the divan next to the window then looks around. “This is a really beautiful room.”
I sit beside her. “I think it’s meant to be.”
�
��I didn’t peg you for an art lover.”
I narrow my eyes at her as I lift my mug. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I mean a room with animal trophies would probably suit you more.”
I take a sip. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m impressed, actually.”
She is? Then I guess it’s good.
“I thought I’d explore the house a bit.” She blows on the surface of her coffee. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all. So, found any dead bodies?”
“No.” She gives me a look of disgust. “And I hope I don’t find any.”
“I’m just kidding. You won’t. But what exactly are you hoping to find?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe anything that can help me understand David more.”
“Did he cause you any trouble?” I ask, concerned.
“No. I mean, he didn’t play a prank on me or anything. He just doesn’t like me, I guess.”
“Well, he did try to hide from you,” I remind her.
“Yes. Was he always like that?”
“You’re the first one he hid from but yes, he never likes his nannies.”
“Do you know why?”
I shrug. I’ve wondered about that, too, and all I can think of is that he’s simply being rebellious.
“Maybe he wants to think that he’s all grown up and doesn’t need a nanny.”
“No. He told me that he didn’t want to grow up.”
He did?
“He doesn’t need a nanny, which is why I’m trying to be his friend,” Sabrina continues. “And so far, I’m not having any luck with that.”
“I see.” I take another sip from my mug.
She takes a sip from her own mug as well. “What can you tell me about his mother? Is he like her? Did she keep to herself, too?”
I don’t answer at once, thinking.
“I’m sorry,” Sabrina says. “I didn’t mean to pry. I know you must miss her.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s been a long time. I don’t remember her being rude or difficult, though. On the contrary, she was very kind and gentle.”
“Then David probably got his mischievous streak from you.”
“From me?” I narrow my eyes at her.
I did have my share of mischief. But doesn’t every boy?
Suddenly, Sabrina stands up, gazing out the window. “Oh, shit.”
