Playing the Player

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  God, she was a train wreck. I didn’t know how I was going to survive working with her. I wondered what would happen if I quit…besides my parents going ballistic.

  “No bloodshed,” I said. “Just a few tears.”

  “Trina’s, I assume?” Alex said.

  “No. Gilly’s. Max’s buddy. She had a meltdown at the museum.”

  “Ah,” Alex said. “Kids and their crying. You couldn’t pay me enough to babysit.”

  I yawned. “Kids are cool. You just have to get in their headspace and it all works out. I tried to explain that to Trina, but she totally freaked out, like I was questioning her existence or something.”

  Alex laughed. “You tried to tell Trina how to improve her nanny skills? I’m surprised there wasn’t bloodshed.”

  “Yeah.” I remembered her face in the gift shop. She’d definitely wanted to draw blood. And that whole “playboy” comment… I shifted on my towel, unable to get comfortable. “She’s not exactly the tooth fairy, dude,” I said. “She’s more like…I don’t know…a rampaging devil pixie.”

  “Hmm. Like I said, Tinker Bell. Cute, but possibly psychotic.”

  I glanced at him. “What?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Did you not read Peter Pan as a kid? Or at least see the cartoon? Tinker Bell. Insanely jealous. Sort of psycho.”

  “I don’t think Trina’s jealous of me, but she’s definitely psycho.” I took a long swig from my soda. “I may as well pay up on the bet now. There’s no way I can get her to relax.”

  Alex laughed. “The summer is young, my friend. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever,” I said, distracted by the tall, gorgeous blonde who winked at me before she dove into the pool.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be so judgmental,” Alex said. “Maybe she has some official tight-ass disease.” He snorted. “TAD.”

  The blonde swam to our side of the pool and leaned her arms on the edge, smiling right at me.

  I was done talking about Bird Brain. As far as I was concerned, things between us were strictly business, and I was off the clock until Wednesday.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” I said to the blonde. “Swim here often?”

  Chapter Six

  Trina

  Monday, June 3

  I made a beeline for the mall right after I lied and told Mrs. Forrester the day had been great. I don’t know why I bothered, since Gillian would tell her mom how I’d been mean to Mr. Perfect Nanny.

  At least I could decompress with my best friend, I told myself as I navigated all the stroller moms and spastic middle schoolers.

  Dressed in her uniform—a paper chef hat and sailor blouse with red bow tie—Desi glared daggers at me as I stood in line at the pretzel place. I knew she was paranoid that I’d post her photo online. She didn’t need to worry; no matter what she wore, she looked amazing. She was tall and gorgeous, with deep brown skin and cheekbones to kill for.

  Once upon a time we’d been the same height, until Desi shot up to runway proportions and I stayed stuck at goblin-sized. In middle school people called us Salt and Pepper, which I worried was racially offensive, but Desi just laughed it off. For Halloween in eighth grade, we dressed up as salt and pepper shakers, me with a big S on my chest and her with a big P.

  Desi rang up my sale, and we pretended not to know each other while the store manager hovered. She handed me my pretzel and whispered, “Wait by the fountain. My break’s in fifteen minutes.”

  The fountain stood sentry in the middle of the mall, surrounded by statues of fake elk, fake boulders, and actual benches. Spray from the powerful waterspouts misted the air while I searched for a bench that wasn’t too wet. Mom texted to say she was working late at the hospital and I should eat leftovers without her. Sometimes I didn’t know how I handled the never-ending excitement that was my life.

  Desi finally joined me, carrying two lemonades and a bag of pretzels, her hat tucked into the pocket of her pants. She handed me a drink. “Compliments of Pretzel Logic.” She leaned back on the bench. “All right, spill. How bad was it?” She sucked lemonade from her straw, appraising me through narrowed eyes. “You look wiped out. Were the kids that bad?”

  “Not just the kids. Though Gillian was in rare form. But Slade…he was…” My voice trailed away as I pictured him towering over me in the gift shop, eyes flashing.

  “He was what?” Desi prompted. “Did he set off the fire alarm as a prank?”

  “What? No, of course not.” Even he had outgrown that.

  “Did he let the kids play in traffic? Force feed them worms for lunch?”

  Was Desi going to make me feel bad for every negative I’d said about Slade, just because he was friends with her boyfriend Trey?

  “He totally questioned my authority, Dez. He bailed on us during the IMAX movie. He hated the binder. Gillian’s in love with him. Max thinks I’m mean.” My chest heaved as the words spilled out. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this! I’m an excellent babysitter. Remember that time I helped Jarvis build his volcano for the second grade science fair? He won a blue ribbon because of me.”

  Desi slurped noisily from her straw, but I could tell she did it to hide her smile.

  “You know I’m right. Slade has no business working as a nanny.”

  “Max’s mom must not agree, or she wouldn’t have hired him.” She took a bite of pretzel, leaving a tiny speck of mustard on the corner of her mouth. Normally I’d tell her about the stain, but I was mad, so I didn’t.

  I wanted to tell her the truth about how Slade got his job. But I couldn’t break my promise to the moms. Damn their delicious cookies and double salaries.

  “You know, Trina, every other girl I know, and some guys, would be ecstatic to spend the summer working with Slade.” She slanted me a look. “Maybe you’re defective.”

  I didn’t answer right away. Once or twice I may have caught myself staring at him during class. In the hall. Shooting hoops. And there’d been one time, one teeny tiny moment, when I’d almost lost my immunity.

  We’d stayed after school for GSA club. Slade rarely came to the meetings, but everyone knew he was a total supporter because of Alex. Whenever Slade did show up, he was always the center of attention.

  It was time to hang the fundraising car wash posters and Alex, always in charge, had pointed to Slade and me. “You two take the second floor.” I’d felt light-headed when Slade turned his full wattage grin on me.

  He’d joked about our senile Spanish teacher, and I’d struggled for words, frustrated with myself for falling under his smexy spell. He’d held the poster too high for me to reach with the tape, looking down at me, laughing, making a joke about me needing a ladder. It wasn’t mean; it was flirty. And I knew it.

  And for one never-ending moment, we’d stared at each other and I thought my heart would fly right out of my chest and crash into his. But the moment passed, and we returned to the GSA meeting, where he drifted across the room to joke with Alex, and it was like nothing ever happened.

  “I’m not defective,” I told Desi. “Just immune to his spell.” I remembered his hand grasping mine in the gift shop and how my whole body had tingled. Okay, maybe ninety-nine percent immune.

  “Whatever.” Desi wiped her mouth with a napkin, erasing the yellow stain. “What are you doing tomorrow, since it’s your day off?”

  “Maybe a movie. And I should do more research on field trips for the kids.” And try to figure out where I’d gone wrong with Gillian today. I needed to rein her in, stat.

  Desi stood up and blew into her paper chef’s hat, puffing it out like a balloon. “I’ll go to a movie with you, but only if you don’t rag on Slade the whole time. You need to step back from this situation and reevaluate.”

  I gaped at her. “I need to reevaluate? Me? What about him? He doesn’t even—”

  She put up a hand. “Save it for later. I’m headed back to work. If you’ve calmed down by tomorrow, we’ll talk for real.”

  She tu
rned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

  Oh. My. God.

  She was the second person who’d bailed on me in the same day.

  Chapter Seven

  Slade

  Tuesday, June 4

  I hoped to sneak into the kitchen, but my parents lurked like hunters stalking their caffeine-deprived prey.

  “So tell us about your first nanny day. We didn’t even see you last night. When did you get home anyway? How were the kids? How was the other nanny?”

  Mom. Why ask just one question when you could pepper a guy like a machine gun?

  I poured myself a gigantic cup of coffee before answering. “Got home late. Kids were cool. Other nanny needs your professional assistance.” I slid into my assigned chair at the table, waiting for the next barrage.

  “Slade, you shouldn’t joke about people needing our help.” That was Dad, never one to crack a smile at my shrink jokes. “Please expand on your mother’s questions.”

  Expand on the questions? I glared at him. Sometimes he forgot I wasn’t one of his college students. Mom passed me one of her chalky homemade granola bars. What I really wanted was more of Mrs. G’s awesome cookies.

  “Gilly’s kind of a spaz, but not impossible. Max is cool. Kind of cautious, though.”

  “And the other nanny?” Dad arched an eyebrow.

  Their eyes bored into me like I was revealing the secret location of a dead body.

  I closed my eyes and sighed. If I told them how I actually felt about Bird Brain, they’d lecture me about accepting people’s differences, and being open to “other ways of being in the world.”

  Yada yada yada until my ears bled.

  “She’s…okay. A little intense.”

  Dad drummed his fingers on the table. “Sometimes intensity is a good thing.”

  I snorted. “Not this kind.”

  Mom twisted her rings around her fingers. Why was she nervous? She wasn’t the one who had to deal with Bird Brain.

  “But you two got along? Took care of the kids together?” Mom’s voice sounded tinny.

  “Yeah, sure. It’s not like Trina and I got into some huge fight.” Just a few small ones. “We have different styles, I guess.”

  This time Dad snorted. “I’ll bet.”

  I glared at him. I hoped he never wrote a parenting manual because if he did, an untold number of kids would be permanently damaged by his crappy advice.

  Mom sighed, looking relieved. That made me feel sort of crummy. I wasn’t going to let Mrs. G. down, or Mom. I could take care of Max, and probably Gilly, too. In fact, the kids would be better off with just me. I’d be a hell of a lot more fun than Bird Brain.

  Maybe after this week, I’d suggest that idea to the moms.

  “So what’s your plan for today?” Dad asked.

  I knew he wouldn’t like my answer. “Hanging with Alex. Whatever.” I shrugged.

  Dad opened his mouth, but Mom spoke first.

  “Well, I’m just so pleased about your first day of nannying. You should enjoy relaxing today.”

  Dad turned his glare on her, which was my cue to leave.

  “Later, gators,” I called over my shoulder as they began arguing about me. A hailstorm of buzzwords followed me out of the room: motivation, self-actualization, participation…and a whole bunch of other words I chose to ignore. Today was going to be a stress-free day, and I planned to enjoy every minute. I pulled up my contact list, thumbing through lists of girls.

  Time to make somebody’s day.

  Chapter Eight

  Trina

  Tuesday, June 4

  Five of us stood in the shallow end of the rec center pool: Three middle-aged ladies, one skinny, pasty-white twentyish guy, and me.

  “Okay, everyone, give yourself a high five for showing up today!” The girl in the red lifeguard swimsuit was named Lindsay. She was so perky it made me twitch. Between post-nanny fatigue and my water phobia, I was a nervous wreck.

  “Learning to swim as an adult”—she glanced at me—“or, um, when you’re not a little kid, can be scary. But it’s going to be awesome! We’re going to work together and get past your fear.” She glanced at two of the ladies, who could stand to lose a few pounds. “Swimming is fantastic exercise.” She glanced at skinny, pasty guy. “You can get a great tan when you’re a swimmer.”

  I wanted to point out the dangers of skin cancer from too much sun, but was too nervous to speak. The older ladies shared a laugh over a whispered comment. I felt a twinge of jealousy they were bonding already, since I had no one to bond with. I glanced at pasty guy. No freaking way was I bonding with him.

  “The first thing we’re going to do,” chirped Lindsay, “is get used to putting our faces in the water.” She beamed at us, plunked her face in the water to blow a mountain of bubbles, and resurfaced, grinning. “Everybody try it.” She clapped her hands. “You can do it!”

  Oh my God. She was probably great at teaching toddlers, but come on. I needed someone older and bossy, who wouldn’t let me give into my fear. Someone way less perky.

  The plucky housewives looked at one another and shrugged. One by one, they tentatively copied Lindsay, lowering their faces to the water and blowing bubbles. Pasty guy shot Lindsay a glare.

  “Whatever.” He plunged his face underwater and jerked it out again, coughing and gagging as water spewed out of his nose and mouth.

  “Oh my,” Lindsay glided over to him like a mermaid. “That was a great effort, but let’s slow it down a little bit.”

  While everyone was occupied, I slowly lowered my face into the water, goggles on. I cautiously blew a few bubbles, intent on not making a fool of myself like pasty guy.

  Lindsay appeared next to me when I stood up. “Awesome!” she held up her hand to high five me. Reluctantly, I raised my hand and her palm slammed onto mine. I winced, but forced a tight smile.

  The rest of the lesson followed the same pattern. Plucky housewives clustered in the corner, laughing nervously and encouraging one another. Pasty guy standing off by himself trying to look cool but failing miserably. And me, trying to do exactly what Lindsay said, while simultaneously trying not to get extremely annoyed with her perkiness.

  In the locker room after the lesson, I sighed in frustration. At the rate we were going, it would take me years to learn how to swim.

  You have to crawl before you can walk, Desi had said when I told her about the lessons, after she’d stopped hugging me. She knew the real reason I couldn’t swim, and she’d always kept my secret.

  When I got home from the rec center, I hung my suit in my closet to dry. I didn’t want my mom to see it and freak out.

  Leftover lasagna in the fridge, Mom texted. I’m stuck working late again. Sorry.

  Sounded like another night I’d spend curled up with a book. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

  Except my nanny report.

  I powered up my ancient computer. I’d been so upset yesterday after my day with Slade, and then Desi blowing me off at the mall, that I hadn’t written my first daily report. But now I was ready.

  Nanny Notes – Museum Day

  Slade’s job performance:

  1. Forgot to buy Max lunch until we showed up. Lack of focus on job. Easily distracted.

  2. Abandoned us during Gillian’s meltdown. Showed lack of teamwork.

  3. Questioned my authority multiple times. Implied that I’m incompetent. Conduct unbecoming a nanny.

  4. Did not speak to me on drive home from museum. Very unprofessional not to speak to partner.

  I thought back to how I’d snapped at him in the gift shop. How I’d totally lost my cool and let him get to me. How I’d insulted him in front of the kids. I cringed when I remembered the kids looking at me in shock.

  A dull ache throbbed behind my temples. No matter what I thought of Slade, and even though this whole “partner” joke was a charade, I shouldn’t drag the kids into it. I needed to keep up a good front for them. Plus, I needed them to like me
, and listen to me, since it would just be me and them pretty soon.

  I hated it when I lost control, because I hardly ever did. My whole life was built on discipline and schedules and never making mistakes. I dreaded what would happen if I let down my guard, even for a day.

  Yet just one day with Slade had completely upset my equilibrium. What kind of shape would I be in by the time Friday rolled around?

  I closed my eyes and reached for the lavender oil, unscrewed the cap, and inhaled deeply. Maybe I could get this stuff in pill form. Or just drink it straight out of the bottle.

  Chapter Nine

  Slade

  Wednesday, June 5

  Trina texted me at six a.m. Meet us at the library at 9:00.

  What military base did she live on? I paged through my texts, and saw that she’d texted me last night, too. I’d been with Beth, the blonde from the pool, so I’d ignored my phone.

  Library? She’d better have something really awesome planned or else the kids would freak. And I’d totally support them if they did.

  I rolled over in bed, determined to sleep until my alarm woke me at eight.

  Another text woke me at six fifteen, like a frigging snooze button.

  Slade? R u there? LMK you got this.

  Got it. C u at 9. I hit send and powered off my phone.

  Three hours later, Max and I pulled into an almost empty library parking lot.

  “Do you like the library, Slade?” Max asked me as we crossed the lot.

  “Uh, sure buddy. I mean, I used to. I haven’t been here since I was a little kid.” I wondered if the kids’ section still had the puppet theater. That had been my favorite part.

  The automatic doors swooshed open and we saw Trina and Gilly waiting in front of the check out desk.

  “Max! Slade!” Gilly shrieked when she saw us, and the librarian behind the desk glanced up, smiling. Maybe librarians had lightened up since I was a kid. I remembered getting shushed a lot.

  Unlike Gilly, Trina didn’t scream with excitement at the sight of me. She stood with her arms crossed, glowering. Usually I liked it when girls crossed their arms like that, because it pushed up other body parts.