"You better not let Mimi hear you say that! She doesn't think she is old." I laugh.
“I know, but until they are ready to retire to the beach house, I have to be here for them.” Just then, the lights flickered to life. “Here, start eating these. I’ll be right back.”
Julia turns off the lantern after handing me the thin mints and runs to her room. She comes back a few minutes later with her computer.
“Are we making a list?” Julia is always making lists…it’s how her brain works. She can solve any equation, any work-related catastrophe in minutes flat, but when it comes to life, she needs to see everything in black and white.
“Sure are! First pros and cons of living here, in Vermont, versus somewhere else…then a list of potential places. Please remember, I’m not kicking you out and you can always come back, but you need this. You know that, right?”
It’s the same conversation we have had for the last year. I know Julia loves me, and I know it will kill her when I move. I came to live with her and Charlie after I was released from the hospital. It’s been everything you would expect living with your best friend to be. But she is right. I can’t stay in Vermont anymore. I have to find a way to move on from the bad memories while hanging on to the few good ones I have.
“Okay. The first list is going to be quick. The only pro for me staying is you, your parents, and GG.”
GG is my grandmother and more of a mother than I ever had. She owns the tiny ski lodge on the mountain. In between my mother moving me from apartment to apartment, my cousin, Lexi, and I grew up with GG. My mother and her twin sister had us weeks apart and chose our names together. Lanie and Lexi, I always thought they sounded like porn names, but it is what it is. My aunt died when we were two, and my mother never recovered.
“You know what, Jules? I don’t think we need to make this list.”
Jules looks up at me with teary eyes. Oh shit.
“Jules, I think you’re right. I think it’s time for me to get away for a while. I don’t think I can go forever, but maybe for a year? Maybe I can find some work that will get me out of here so I can get my head on straight. When I come home, maybe I can be normal.”
“Oh, Lanes, for crying out loud. You are normal—what you went through is not.”
This is a conversation we have had ad nauseam. I don’t argue with her anymore, although I know, in my heart, I will never be normal again.
A few hours later, the sun has risen, and we hear the first bits of chatter coming from Charlie's room.
"I have to get Charlie ready for Mimi,” Jules tells me. “I need to be on a call for work soon, but think about all of this, okay?"
I give her a hug and watch her go next door to Charlie’s room. A few minutes later, I hear Mimi coming up to get him, then Jules heads to her office.
I can hear Julia on the phone from my room. She is downright scary at work. People who don’t know her and even people who do would never believe how strong she is when she is working. Before the attack, it had been my goal to get that confidence she has at work to carry over to the rest of her life. Someday, when I’m less broken, I’ll find a way to show her just how amazing she is.
I stare at the list we made last night. It started with grandiose plans of Paris, LA, Seattle, and North Carolina. Paris for obvious reasons, LA, because hello? Celebrities! I chose Seattle because of Kirk Cobain, but it got nixed immediately. I wasn’t starting a new life somewhere that rained more days than not. I crossed Paris out too. I couldn’t start a new life somewhere I didn’t even speak the language, not to mention I had never left the United States except to go to Canada with Jules and her parents a couple of times.
That left North Carolina. The only place I ever truly felt safe and at home. Julia’s parents have a beach house in the Outer Banks, a town called Corolla, and they brought me with them for two weeks every summer, sometimes for the week between Christmas and New Year’s too.
It was my time visiting North Carolina that I felt whole. Real. Loved. Really loved and worthy of that love. As I stare at the screen, a wave of memories from the Outer Banks washes over me. I don’t know how long I have sat here before Julia walks back into my room, scaring the crap out of me.
“North Carolina, huh?” She asks, and I nearly jump off my bed, making her laugh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
When I am finally settled back on top of my pale blue comforter, I tell her, “I think so. It’s the only place I ever felt truly at home. I mean, besides your house and GG’s.” I feel a little guilty saying that, but it is honest, and Jules knows it.
“I know, Lanes.” She rubs her hands together and sits down. “Alright, let’s do this.”
“Do what?” I eye her cautiously.
“Well, let’s figure out where in North Carolina. You know you are always welcome to stay at the beach house, but I’m not sure the Outer Banks is the best place either. You know how dead it is around there in the offseason.”
“Jules, it’s not like I plan on going clubbing, maybe quiet is just what I need?”
Blatantly ignoring me, she says, “As I said, my parents would love to have you stay there where they can keep tabs on you, but let’s talk about this first. Maybe a compromise? Something by the water but still close enough that I can get to you…ah, I mean visit you without the 6-hour drive from an airport. Somewhere close enough to city life that it doesn’t become a complete ghost town in the winter. Let’s look along the coast.” She does a little shimmy-shake; research is her drug of choice.
I know what she means, I may have been her protector for fifteen years, but she has become my savior in the last year and a half. She said "get" to me in case I break down again, and I love her for it.
“Fine Miss Google, let’s find me a job and a place to live.” I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.
Two hours later, she squeals again. “Lanie, I have the perfect town…see how cute these pictures are? It’s called Waverley-Cay, and it is only about an hour and a half away from the Coastal Carolina Airport.”
It looks like a cute little vineyard town, but fancier somehow.
“You have to read their little town paper; it sounds like ours. Miss Popper, whoever she is, must be quite the town gossip, just like our Miss Rosa. I don’t think there is a single piece of actual news here, but I can tell you about the church dinner and who was caught on a date last week. This is too much.”
Good Lord. Do I really want to trade one small town for another? I know what small-town life is like here, so maybe it will be nice having that same familiarity, albeit with warmer weather and the ocean!
“I’ve also been thinking about your job situation. You want something temporary, right? Why don’t you consider nannying like you did in college?”
I sit straight up. “I hadn’t even thought about that. A nanny gig for a year would be perfect.”
“Mm-hmm, I even found some placement agencies in between my work calls.”
“You did? So, you knew I was going to pick North Carolina, huh? Am I that predictable?”
“No. You’re not.” Julia smiles. “But you can’t know someone almost your entire life and not come to the same conclusions sometimes.”
“This. This right here,” I say, pointing between the two of us, “is one of the many reasons I luvs you, Jules.”
Two weeks and several phone conversations with the Nanny placement agency later, I’m packing up my belongings into my old but trusty silver Toyota Corolla. Jules and Charlie are standing by, waiting to give me the thousandth hug of the day.
I lean in and hug them tight. “It’s only a year, and you’ll visit, right? We can facetime every day!”
Jules tries not to cry as she replies, “Every day. This move is going to be so good for you, Lanie, really good. I can feel it.”
With one more hug for each of them, I climb in my car and set off on my fifteen-hour journey to North Carolina.
Dex
Chapter 2
“MOLLY!
”
“Yes, sir?”
My assistant walks around the corner appearing as frazzled as I feel.
Since Nanny number three quit two weeks ago, I’ve been asking the impossible of her. Molly is in her fifties, and while she is the best damn assistant I’ve ever had, children are not in her wheelhouse.
“Were you just asking Emily how to shut a baby up?” I ask, knowing Emily is her partner and also happens to be a kindergarten teacher.
Molly shrugs but has the grace to look chagrined. “I didn’t exactly say shut up, but Emily is much more capable of handling this…ah, stuff…than I am.”
I get the feeling Molly is at the end of her rope; this was certainly not in her job description. I have to find a new nanny soon, and it can’t just be any nanny. I will be leaving for London in two weeks, so it has to be the perfect Nanny. Fuck, it needs to be someone I can trust with my kids. I hate that I’ll be leaving them with a virtual stranger.
I also know that if I don’t make this meeting and the deal goes south, my company is in trouble. I need this venture to be successful for my employees and my family. Christ, the company succeeding is the reason we just moved into this ridiculously large house.
It was time to move out of the townhome. Get away from all the memories of Bitchzilla—the name we’ve given my ex-wife. I never call her that in front of the kids. As much as I hate her, I will never talk ill of her to my children.
Who the hell walks away from their children? Your mother and your wife, says the nagging voice inside my head. I can’t think of her right now, or ever for that matter. She is dead to me.
“What time is it?” I lost my watch in the last diaper change. I’m losing my shit here. Twins are tough, but feverish toddler twins are brutal. It's times like this that I am so thankful for my little 6-year-old boy. Tate has always been a pleaser.
Molly gives me an expression I can’t quite read…and I’m not sure if I want to. If I did, I’m afraid I’d learn she is five minutes away from quitting, and I can’t have that, so I look away.
“4:52, sir.”
“Shit, where is this girl?” I know her interview isn’t until five, but I’m antsy and exhausted. Harper and Sara had me up at least six times last night. “What is her name again?” I ask Molly, and I’m pretty sure she just rolled her eyes at me.
“Lanie. Her name is Lanie.” Molly says stiffly.
I glance up at her. She is in a pants suit that looks as though there might be green peas on the lapel. Man, I hope it's green peas and not the contents of Harper's diaper, again. “I’ll pay to have that cleaned, Molly,” I say, pointing to her jacket.
She peers down and grimaces. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. It doesn’t seem as if she even knew it was there.
“Yes, you will.” Molly whips her head up almost like she can’t believe she said that out loud, and quickly adds, “Thank you.”
I give her a quick nod. “Lanie. What the hell kind of name is Lanie? Is it short for something?”
“I don’t believe so, sir. They just buzzed her in at the gate, she’ll be arriving momentarily,” Molly states, always the efficient one.
I had moved us into a gated community and out of the town-home we lived in uptown. Everyone thought it was best for the safety of my family, but I still feel like a jackass every time I come through the gates.
If—no, when—this deal goes through, I will become more of a target, not just in Charlotte but also in New York, London, LA—anywhere with a corporate financial presence will know me by year's end. Except, this is Waverley-Cay for Christ sakes, not the ghetto. The median home price in this neighborhood is a million-plus. I groan, knowing I have other things I need to focus on right now.
Maybe we will grow to love this ostentatious money pit, but I doubt it. In a year, maybe two, the company will be running smoothly. Then I can slowly bring us back down to earth and find a more realistic family home.
I sigh, and Molly turns her attention to me again, this time with concern. When I get back from London, I’m going to need to give her a raise. A big one. And maybe a vacation.
“Can you give me the quick rundown on her?” Shit, what was her name?
Molly lets out a sigh of her own and recites her details from memory. “Lanie Heart. 26. From Burke Mountain, Vermont. She graduated second in her class at Boston University with a degree in social work. She worked as a nanny in Brookline, MA, during her last two years of college. Once she graduated, she worked for the State of Vermont. There is no work history for the last eighteen months. From what I could find, it seems there was a major accident of some sort and she was severely injured. However, the records are sealed because a minor was involved. I asked Ryan to look into her and the preliminary report is that she was injured trying to save the child. No more details were readily available. She has remarkable references, most notably a letter of personal reference from Maxine and Pete McDowell.”
My head whips up. “The lawyers?”
I remember them from law school. They had a firm in Boston and won an unprecedented case that we studied in my first year. I became enamored with their skills in the courtroom and the way they worked together as attorneys while also husband and wife. In my second and third years, I followed their careers and became dumbfounded to learn they sold their practice when they were in their early forties and moved to some small town to practice family law.
“Yes, sir. It seems she has known them most of her life, would you like to see the letter?”
Just then, the doorbell rings, and Harper, who is in my arms asleep, lets out a shriek that could break the glass throughout the house. I need to unhook that goddamn doorbell. It plays some ridiculous song and goes on for far too long.
I look over to Molly. “Yes, please. Just put it on my desk…ah, at some point.”
Harper's screams are inconsolable. I know because I have been trying for two weeks, but once she starts, she goes on for hours. Can kids have colic at eleven months? I peek down at my beautiful baby girl and soften. I have to remember it’s not her fault.
“Molly, can you get the door, please? I’ll try to get her calmed down.”
“Yes, sir.”
I peek back down at Harper. “Please, baby girl, don’t scare off this nanny too. I hate to admit it, but I need help.”
Harper just stares at me and keeps on screaming.
I put her on my hip and sigh. When did I become a sigher? I hear Molly coming down the hall talking. When I look up, my chest constricts. What the hell?
“Mr. Cross, Lanie Heart to see you.” Molly stares at me like I have three heads, and maybe I do, but I can’t seem to form words. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you two to it then?” My assistant says quizzically. “Sara is in the contraption on the kitchen floor, and Tate is sitting at the table doing homework. I’ll be in your office.” She reminds me as she turns, leaving me staring at Lanie Heart.
Lanie Heart is beautiful, gorgeous even. I’ve never hurt for a woman’s attention, though it has been years since I’ve been affected by one. When the business took off—thankfully after Bitchzilla left—women were continually inundating me with unwanted attention, but I’m no idiot. While I know I’m good looking, I also know they see a handsome face covered in dollar signs.
No-fucking-thank-you!
Lanie Heart stands there with her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side. She is staring between Harper and me, and I can’t read what she’s thinking. I can always read people, which makes her dangerous for all kinds of reasons.
She has skinny jeans on that cause her legs to continue for miles, matched with a t-shirt that says ‘The Northeast Kingdom’ on it. What is the Northeast Kingdom, some sort of video game? I make a mental note to Google that later. She isn’t in anything fancy, and yet the perfect fitting t-shirt has my blood running south. As if I need more reasons to be attracted to her, she has long, dirty blonde hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.
Hiring this girl isn’t going to w
ork. I can’t have her living in my house. Nothing good will come of that.
Shit, how long have I been staring at her? She seems to be laughing at me and about to take action. Lanie is headed straight for me just as Molly walks back in.
“Mr. Cross, it’s nice to meet you. It seems like you have your hands full,” her voice melodies.
I watch on as she comes toe to toe with me. She is tall. Really fucking tall. I’m 6”5, and she has to be at least 6 feet. Harper, who is still screaming in my arms, reaches for her.
Wait, what the fuck? The pediatrician said she is going through something called stranger danger and hasn’t let anyone but me hold her in two months. That’s part of the reason I keep losing nannies. Not that I can blame them, but it’s their job, so they should be able to handle her.
I can’t take my eyes off Lanie Heart as she scoops up Harper, scanning the room with a scrunched-up nose. I take a covert glance around to determine what she sees—boxes and boxes of shit. Toys and baby gear are covering every available surface. As I scan the room, I realize Harper has stopped crying.
I glance down at her and back to Lanie Heart with wide eyes. What the hell is going on? Lanie Heart is smiling at Harper and kissing her cheeks, and my daughter is...laughing? Seriously, she’s laughing? I look back to Lanie Heart, and she has apparently had enough of my blundering. She turns, again looking around, and asks, “Which way to the kitchen?”
Molly and I both point through the doorway, dumbstruck, as Lanie Heart starts walking away, cuddling a now quiet Harper.
Molly has come up beside me, so I glance down at her. Under my breath, I say, “Who is she, fucking Mary Poppins?”
Molly begins to answer when I realize I said it pretty loudly because Lanie Heart turns her head over her shoulder and answers me.
“I prefer Maria, but I promise not to cut up your curtains for play clothes.” She glances around the room again, “Unless I find you dress them in suits and party dresses 24/7.” Giving me a crooked smile, then she walks through the door.
Cross My Heart: A Waverley-Cay Novel Page 2
