by Jen McConnel
To A.J.K., for that first excuse to wander, and to Noreen, for the borrowed bag.
Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Sneak peek
Acknowledgements
About the Author
From: SarahGirl18
To: JoJotheGreat
Subject: AMSTERDAM!!!
Oh my gosh, Joelle, you have no idea how perfect this city is. Everything sparkles; seriously, it’s like something out of a fairy tale. And this guy is . . . wonderful. I know you were worried about our little getaway, but even though we’ve only arrived, I have a feeling this will be the best birthday ever! Watch out, 19, I’m ready for you!
How’s London? Have the other girls moved on yet? I’m really glad I met up with you while I was there, and hopefully I’ll see you after the weekend when we’re back across the water. ☺
Hugs!
—Sarah
Chapter One
If I had to change one more disgusting diaper, I would scream.
Grimy hands tugged on the bottom of my long teal tunic, and I closed my eyes. “What is it, Gracie?”
“My tummy hurts.”
I tried not to gag as I threw the wet wipe I’d been using in the diaper pail, and I finished up with Bailey. “What do you want me to do?”
“Make it stop.”
“Look, kiddo, I have to take care of your brother right now. I think he’s sick.”
She clutched my leg, wrapping her body around my knee and burrowing her face in my leggings. “I’m sick, too, Sarah.” Her red curls made her look like a miniature version of me, and sometimes people who saw us in the park assumed she was my sister or my daughter, but the truth was, I was just the nanny.
I sighed and gently shook my leg. “One kid at a time.”
She hung on tighter. “No.”
Just then, Bailey broke into a wail that pierced my ears. It was worse than nails on a chalkboard.
“What’s wrong, little man?” I tried to coo, tried to keep the tension out of my voice, but my nerves were shot. This so wasn’t what I’d envisioned when I signed up to be an au pair.
Snapping Bailey’s onesie, I scooped him up and tried to walk away, but his sister was still wrapped around my leg. “Grace, let go.”
“No.”
“Gracie, do it now.”
“Uh-uh.”
Deep breath, Sarah.
Before I could tell her to go play with her toys, she threw up. All over the floor and my bare feet.
~
By the time Mrs. Johnson got home, I had cleaned up the mess, put Bailey in his crib with his bottle, and sent Gracie to bed. I was ready to pass out, too, but I didn’t want Mrs. Johnson to wake up the next morning with two sick kids and wonder why I hadn’t told her. I was on my third cup of tea by the time she breezed through the door to the flat.
She took one look at me and sighed in sympathy. “Rough day, Sarah?”
I nodded. “They’re both sick. I’m not sure what they’ve got; you might want to take them to the doctor tomorrow.”
She unwound her silk scarf and hung it on the hook beside the door. “Oh, tomorrow. You’ll have to do that. Something came up at the gallery.”
I stared at her, not understanding. “It’s my day off.”
“I know, dear, and you deserve it, but I simply couldn’t say no. It’s a benefit luncheon, and of course the curator has to be there, rubbing elbows with all our lovely donors. A real bore if you ask me, but someone’s got to do it.”
I stared at her, feeling the frustration of the day wash over me. The urge to burst into tears tugged at my chest, but I tried to ignore it. “Mrs. Johnson, I can’t . . . I already have plans,” I lied, hoping my cheeks wouldn’t flush and give me away.
She frowned. “Isn’t there any way you can change them?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow all week.”
My boss sighed, slipping off her black stilettos and wandering into the kitchen. “Are you doing all right here, Sarah?” I heard her open the fridge door, and I waited to answer until she was back in the room. She reemerged after a moment, carrying a paper takeout container and shoveling chow mien into her mouth. “Well?”
I paused, uncertain of what to say.
“Come on, Sarah. You don’t expect to pretend that you’ve settled in just fine.” She sighed. “I was worried about that; the agency warned me that hiring a foreign girl would bring extra problems.”
“No, there aren’t any problems!” I hurried to assure her. “And besides, London doesn’t really feel that foreign.”
She snorted. “Just because you can speak the language doesn’t mean it’s your home, dear.”
I dropped my eyes. “I know. It is different, but I think I’m settling in fine.” That was a lie; I’d been crying myself to sleep most nights ever since I got there, and even after three months, London still felt strange. Even though there wasn’t much about my home to miss, it was still really hard starting over alone, and harder still taking care of a sixteen-month-old and an almost four-year-old. But I didn’t want to risk my job, no matter how rough the day had been.
Mrs. Johnson sighed again. “I just don’t know if it’s working out.”
I looked up at her, desperate. “Are you firing me?”
She shook her head. “No, not exactly. But I am encouraging you to try a little bit harder, or we’ll be having this conversation again very soon.” She tapped the side of the takeout carton thoughtfully. “Let’s talk about this again next week, after Gracie’s birthday party. And in the meantime, try not to mope around so much. Things aren’t that bad, right?”
I swallowed nervously. “Yes, ma’am.” After a moment’s hesitation, I asked, “Will I still be able to take my day off tomorrow?”
Her gold eyes met mine. “Do you really think that’s what you should be concerned with right now?”
I heard the implicit threat in her words, and I shook my head. “I guess not. I’ll take the kids to the doctor first thing in the morning.”
“Good!” She stood up, smiling. “I’m so glad we had this little chat, Sarah.”
I forced a smile. “Me, too.” You bitch.
After I’d locked myself in my small bedroom, I flopped down on the bed in despair. I’d really been looking forward to having a day off; the kids were cute and everything, but nights like that one reminded me that I wasn’t a mom or anything and I wasn’t obligated to love them all the time. Still, I didn’t want to endanger my job. Even if I hadn’t been all that happy since coming to London, I didn’t see an alternative. Mrs. Johnson was thoughtless sometimes, but she paid me well and I could tell she really loved her kids. I hadn’t met Mr. Johnson in the time I’d been living with the family, and the one time I brought him up, Mrs. Johnson clamped her teeth shut and shook her head.
“He travels for business,” she’d finally said. “The children don’t really know him.”
I’d dropped the issue. I could understand having a family member you didn’t want to talk about. It was sort of twisted, but when I found out their dad wasn’t in the picture much, I’d been a little jealous of Gracie and Bailey. Sometimes, I wondered how different things would
have been for me growing up if my dad hadn’t been around.
Sighing, I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. There was no sense worrying about the life I’d left behind. I would just have to try harder to make this new life work out, and if that meant giving up my day off, then it was the price I’d have to pay. Wearily, I lay down, staring up at the ceiling and trying to will myself to sleep.
Even though I needed my rest more than ever, when I finally fell asleep, I slept fitfully. My dreams were punctuated with nightmares of baby poop, bodily fluids, and, underneath it all, my father’s biting words.
Chapter Two
I woke up to Gracie bouncing up and down on the foot of my bed. “Hurry up, hurry up!”
I groaned. “Gracie, could you please stop moving? I have a headache.”
“Are you sick, too?”
I shook my head and looked at her. “You seem like you’re feeling better.”
She frowned. “Still sick.”
“Fine.” I stretched my arms overhead. “Let me get dressed, and then I’ll take you and your brother to the doctor.”
“Weeeeee!” she called, vaulting off my bed and running out into the hall. I snorted. No way was that child still sick, but since I already had to take Bailey to the doctor, I might as well have them look at Gracie, too.
I scrambled out of bed, pulling on my jeans and throwing on a T-shirt that was only slightly stained. My clothes were a little looser than they had been when I got to England, but I figured they just must have stretched out or something. My thighs still felt huge, and I hated the way my jeans clung to my hips.
Glancing in the mirror over the dresser, I pulled my long red hair back into a loose ponytail. The skin under my eyes looked bruised, like I’d been in a fight, and I sighed. It was the curse of fair skin, my mother had always told me; if I didn’t get enough sleep, everyone within a mile could tell just by looking at me.
I didn’t have time to shower if Gracie was already up; usually, I showered at night, but I’d been so upset the night before that I’d gone right to bed after Mrs. Johnson and I finished talking. It doesn’t matter if you smell, I thought as I rubbed on some deodorant. You’re just the nanny.
When I’d seen the website advertising travel and adventure, it had seemed like just what I needed. Au pairs would be paid minimum wage and room and board, the site had assured me, and they’d also be provided with an airline ticket to their place of employment. Some employers, it said, would throw in a return ticket home as a bonus, and that’s what Mrs. Johnson had offered when she interviewed me over Skype. I hadn’t wanted to tell her that I wasn’t planning on going home, but I did convince her to just buy me a “ticket anywhere” gift certificate from British Airways.
She’d sent me my nonstop ticket to England almost immediately, and I didn’t bother to tell my parents good-bye. I called Mom from the airport and told her I was leaving, but instead of trying to talk me out of it, she’d just sighed and said, “Maybe it’s for the best.”
So I landed in London on a wet, nasty day in early spring, and followed Mrs. Johnson’s directions to navigate the Underground alone with my luggage. I’d never been farther from home than the state line, and it was a miracle that I made it to her flat without getting lost or mugged. Mrs. Johnson had greeted me with a hug and a scone when I got to the apartment, and Gracie and Bailey had been utterly charming.
I loved sitting for them . . . on the good days. Yesterday hadn’t been a good day.
Today wasn’t looking so hot, either.
I burned Gracie’s breakfast, broke a mug, and only realized that we were out of eggs after Gracie threw her omelet on the floor and I decided it was time for me to eat something. I ended up munching on the rest of the takeout that Mrs. Johnson had been nibbling on the previous night, but the grease made my stomach churn. I hoped I wasn’t getting sick, too.
Bailey had two more explosive diapers before I managed to get the kids bundled up and planted in their double stroller, headed for the doctor. I packed extra diapers and wipes in the huge diaper bag slung across my shoulder; that was one of the first lessons I learned when I started this job. I’d done a little babysitting back home, but nothing had prepared me for the crash course provided by being a full-time nanny.
The doctor’s office wasn’t too crowded, and even though we didn’t have an appointment, a nurse in pink scrubs called us back moments after we’d sat down. Gracie hopped up on the exam table first, and when she explained to the doctor how sick she was, he obligingly took her temperature, winked at me, and then handed her a sucker. I rolled my eyes. Of course. No wonder she’d still insisted she wasn’t feeling well that morning.
Bailey wasn’t as easy. It’s hard to make a baby tell you what’s wrong, but the doctor tried. He listened with professional detachment as I described the contents of Bailey’s nasty diapers, and then he wrote a prescription for something unpronounceable and sent us on our way.
It had taken us two hours to get ready to leave the apartment for a fifteen-minute doctor’s visit.
Gracie was busy making animal noises when we got back to the flat, and Bailey had passed out somewhere between the doctor’s office and the apartment, so I left him strapped into the stroller, sleeping. I followed Gracie down the hall to her room.
“Quiet, Grace. Your brother is sleeping.”
She raised her voice noticeably, letting out a loud moo.
I shook my head. “Gracie, I mean it. Why don’t we read a story together?”
She considered for a minute, but then she squawked like a deranged bird.
I tried again. “Want to read the book about the zookeeper?”
Her eyes brightened, and she roared.
Pulling the book off her shelf, I sat down cross-legged on the floor by her bed. “We can only meet the zookeeper and her animals if you’re very, very quiet.”
Gracie eyed me, trying to decide if I was tricking her. Finally, she mewed quietly.
“Just like that. We have to be super quiet; the animals are shy.”
She curled up on my lap, and we read the story three times. Gracie insisted on talking for each of the animals, but her barks and growls and howls were a lot quieter than they’d been, and Bailey didn’t wake up. After the story, I bribed Gracie to take a nap, promising her that I’d help her make cookies when she woke up, and then I went to check on Bailey.
I could smell him from down the hall, but he was still asleep, despite the nasty green gunk in his diaper. When I lifted him out of the stroller, I realized he’d leaked; the fabric lining of the stroller was as toxic as Bailey’s pants. “Shit. Oh shit, shit, shit.” Holding Bailey with one hand, I tried to clean up the mess, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of movement.
Had Gracie heard me swearing? I stood there for a moment, wondering if I should go check on her, but Bailey stirred and started to fuss, and I realized that I had to clean him up first. I could deal with Grace later.
Chapter Three
After all the guests had left Gracie’s party that Friday, still pulsing from their sugar highs, Mrs. Johnson cocked her finger and led me into her home office, a tiny corner closet that barely had room for the computer desk she’d wedged in it. My stomach sank as I followed her, and for a minute, I wished that I’d eaten more of the birthday cake. I probably wasn’t going to get a chance for seconds like I’d planned.
Mrs. Johnson shut the door behind me and perched on the edge of her desk. I leaned against the door, trying not to panic. She sighed. “Sarah, I’m disappointed. After our talk earlier this week, I thought you would be trying harder to make it work.”
“I have been! It’s just been so hard, with the kids being sick and planning the party and helping with all that—”
“That doesn’t excuse your behavior. I expected more from you, Sarah.”
“I’m doing my best.” Tears welled up in my eyes, but I choked them down. “Really, I am.”
“Does your best include teaching my children to cu
rse?”
I looked at her, at a loss.
She shook her head. “You can’t have expected Gracie not to tell me, can you? Especially after you made her promise to keep it a secret.”
Oh shit. That’s what this was about? “I slipped. It was the day we went to the doctor, and I asked Gracie not to tell you because . . . ,” I trailed off lamely. There wasn’t a good reason, except I had been trying to cover my ass, and now I looked like a liar.
“I’m sorry,” I tried again. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Whether you meant to or not, Sarah, this just isn’t working. I’ll still give you your ticket home, and I’ll even give you the rest of your month’s pay, but I think it’s time for you to leave.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. That had happened faster than I’d thought it would. “Leave?”
“You’re no longer in my employment. Of course, you can sleep here tonight, but you shouldn’t have any trouble booking your flight home tomorrow, right?”
Numbly, I shook my head. There was no point explaining to her that I couldn’t go home. Fleetingly, I wondered if she’d change her mind if I reminded her that my birthday was coming up at the end of the month, but I dismissed that idea almost immediately. I didn’t want to keep my job just because she felt sorry for me. “No trouble,” I croaked, echoing her.
She smiled. “Good. I think you’re a sweet girl, and I want to believe that you genuinely care for my children, but I have to do what’s best for them. I’m sure you understand.”
Mrs. Johnson squeezed my arm as she slipped by me, leaving me alone in her closet office. After she was gone, I leaned against the door, dazed. Now what?
After what felt like an eternity, I left the office and crept down the hall. I didn’t want to talk to anybody right then, and by some miracle, I made it to the bathroom unnoticed. Turning the shower on as hot as it would go, I hurriedly stripped off my birthday-cake stained clothes and stepped under the water.
As it sprayed my skin, I closed my eyes, hearing my father’s voice. “Worthless. Good for nothing. Stupid.”
