The doorbell rang. I heard Elizabeth's office door open, her heels clicking on the tiles in the hallway, hurrying to get to her guests.
"Alright, put your homework away," I said, as multiple voices echoed through the hall, saying their greetings. Ari immediately jumped up from the living room table, shoving her notebook into her backpack, while Manon took her time to wrap up her sentence and read it over once more.
"Are grandma and grandpa here?" Camille asked, dropping her crayon, which she had been using to draw stick-like figures she told me were me and her together.
"Go and look," I said. I hadn't finished, or all of them were off, Ari at the front, running and then sliding around the corner on her socks like a surfer. The gaggle of cheers confirmed what I'd already expected: the dinner party was here, ready to gobble down on the delicious three-course meal miss Schneider had been preparing all afternoon. Time for me to disappear to my room.
Summer break was over, and all three of the kids were going to school now: Manon to fourth grade, Ari to first, and Camille to a special pre-k program. That left me with four days a week on which I had nothing to do for hours and hours, and it was incredibly boring. Honestly, I had no idea what to do with myself most of the time. I almost felt bad for still getting paid so much. I'd started to help miss Schneider with the housework and shopping, only she didn't think I did anything right, so if I folded the laundry, she'd actually do it over herself. When I'd told Elizabeth of my uselessness, she'd scowled and told me to get a hobby.
I believed she'd started to regret that because — with her permission — I'd laid out a small vegetable garden that, admittedly, had begun to grow with every week, though the yard was big enough for it not to matter. The kids were fascinated by it, especially Camille, who'd exploded with excitement when the first spinach stalks had popped up from the dark soil. Still, we were nearing October, so there wasn't that much gardening to do.
I smiled at Camille's drawing and put all the crayons away in the cabinet, then picked up my phone and headed for the hallway. I'd hoped they'd moved on to the dining room by now, but they were still lingering at the entrance, slowly inching further into the house. Mrs. Miller's auburn hair shone as brightly as the necklace resting on her chest, Mr. Miller was crouched before the kids, and there were two men and a woman I hadn't met before, looking just as polished and posh as the older couple did. Elizabeth was in one of her icy moods, glaring at the woman's fur-lined coat as she hung it on the rack.
I slipped past the company, up the stairs, hoping they'd ignore me—
"Jessie, where are you going?"
I paused. Elizabeth stood at the base, looking up at me, one hand on the banister, her brown eyes sparkling in the light of the chandelier. The rest had finally disappeared.
Oh no. Had I forgotten to do something? "Err, to my room."
She inclined her head. "Come. Join us." When I stayed frozen, staring down at her, wondering why the hell I was suddenly invited to a fancy dinner party, she added: "Please."
It was the 'please' that worried me. I didn't think I'd ever heard her use it before, outside of business conversations, and my stomach twisted. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The question was: did I cause it, or someone else? Maybe it wasn't a good idea to give in. I really didn't want to be sitting with these people anyway.
Elizabeth was holding her breath, something twitching near the corner of her glossy lips — it wasn't annoyance, though, nor was it anger. No. It was like... but no, I must've been mistaken... could she possibly be scared I'd say no? Without realizing it, I took a few steps back down, and she visibly let out a breath, the tension around her mouth dissolving. "Sure," I said, "though I'm not really dressed for the occasion."
"You look fine," she said.
I raised an eyebrow. My ensemble today consisted of faded jeans and a threadbare green T-shirt. Considering Mrs. Miller preferred me to wear a uniform, I couldn't imagine her approving of this.
"If she gives you shit about it, kick me under the table, and I'll distract her somehow." Elizabeth had already turned around, giving me no time to process the fact that not only had she said 'please', she'd used a swearword and told me to kick her.
What the hell was going on?
I followed her into the dining room, and she commanded Ari to get an extra chair for me, while the others seized me up and down curiously. "Everyone," she said, with such a lazy inclination she almost sounded bored, "this is our nanny, Jessie Kawecki. She'll be joining us tonight. Jessie, you know Mr. and Mrs. Miller, of course," she nodded towards her ex-husband's parents, though Mr. Miller was the only one who gave me a little wave, "Peter Nash and his brother George, who both work for Mr. Miller," she took a breath, and it was almost like she couldn't look at the woman sitting opposite of her, "and George's wife, Celeste."
I said an awkward "hi", forcing myself to give all of them a smile, then quickly let myself fall back in the chair Ari pushed towards me. It was weird to see Elizabeth displaying such good manners: she was the perfect hostess, a fake smile plastered on her face. It freaked me out. I wished she'd glare at me.
"You must be an exceptional nanny if Elizabeth invites you to dine with us," the woman called Celeste said. Her heavily made-up eyes scanned my T-shirt, definitely not impressed, though she smiled engagingly. Three silver bracelets on her arm jingled quietly as she held up her wineglass for miss Schneider, who filled it up. "Thank you."
"Or the kids are exceptionally misbehaved," I said, glancing nervously at Ari, who was building a tower of serviettes. Oh no. I was sure I was going to get snapped at any second now.
"Don't be ridiculous," Elizabeth said, taking an alarmingly large swig from her wine. "They love you. Right, girls?"
"Yes! I love Jessie." Camille beamed at me, her small hands already holding her knife and fork. One of the men, Peter or George, chuckled at her, and she startled, immediately inching closer to Manon.
Elizabeth laughed charmingly — it sounded hollow, and I figured that if this was how she had to act at work all day long, I'd be grumpy too when I came home. At first, I wondered if maybe she'd been afraid the kids would grow bored, only their grandpa seemed to be adept at entertaining them, and Ari and Camille left soon enough to watch TV in the living room. The only person who behaved strangely, in fact, was Elizabeth herself.
She constantly changed positions, knocked back the wine way faster than was advisable, and hardly ate at all, fidgeting with the ends of her hair. If I hadn't been worried about her, I would've been incredibly bored. When she ordered miss Schneider to bring another bottle of some fancy wine brand, I panicked. "Err, Elizabeth," I said, eying her slack movements — obviously, she was tipsy already, if not drunk. "Maybe we should give the kids a good example, you know. I mean, alcohol is very bad for you."
"Exactly," Manon said. "Adults make no sense at all. We can't drink because it kills our brain cells, but they'll happily kill their own." She rolled her eyes.
Everyone around the table laughed, except for Elizabeth, who downed the dredge on the bottom of her glass; it swayed a bit in her hand. "Isn't she delightful?" Celeste said, neatly cutting her prime rib. "I for sure don't understand how you're still single, Liz. A stunning woman like you, with these three adorable kids... Isn't she stunning, Peter?"
I waited for Elizabeth to roast her alive. Instead, she only stared, her jaw clenched like someone had glued them together, all the color leaving her face.
Peter flashed a row of bleached white teeth, as shiny as the watch around his wrist. I almost felt myself recoil at the sight of him. "I think we can all agree on that, right, kiddo? Your mom is a real pretty lady."
Yuck. If he said one more thing like that, I was going to barf. "I mean, I can see the whole stunning part and all," I said before I could stop myself, "but I really think what's more important is how she is setting a good example for the kids, being an independent woman and the like."
Peter and George both laughed. Elizabeth, however, glanced at me for a second, and though I had no idea if it was on purpose or subconsciously, I could feel she was grateful for my intervention. It was almost like she'd been expecting it.
"Still, Liz," Celeste said. "I've wanted to say this for a while. I'm so sorry for how things ended between you and Connery. We were all so sad. Nobody ever expected you two to... you know..." She held a manicured hand next to her face, like that would prevent Manon from hearing. "...divorce."
I saw Elizabeth flinch, self-consciously tugging at her earring and letting her hair fall alongside her face for a moment, while Celeste grinned at her, licking some gravy off her upper lip. She really surrounded herself with great people, did she? Luckily, Manon hadn't heard, being deep in conversation with her grandpa about a book they'd both read.
Elizabeth didn't look at Celeste. In fact, I now realized she hadn't looked at the woman once in the two hours we'd been sitting here. Something was starting to dawn on me. Celeste's husband, George, hadn't said much at all, quietly eating next to his wife. He was a long, lean sort of dude, with greying hair and a trimmed stubble, a bit of chest hair peaking up at the top of his dress shirt. Gross. I really hoped she had better taste than that.
Mrs. Miller cleared her throat. "Oh yes, it's so unfortunate you two couldn't make it work anymore. You were so lovely together."
Celeste nodded. "Do you hear from him at all?"
Elizabeth took a sip of water, leaving an imprint of her lipstick on the cup. "No," she said curtly. "Do you?" There was the familiar edge, cutting through the air like a knife.
Celeste shook her head and grabbed her husband's elbow. "No, I didn't really know him that well. Have you spoken to him, George?"
"Yeah, some time ago. Moved to Lyon, he told me."
"What an adventure!" Celeste cried out. There was something nasty about the way she smiled.
With a clank, Elizabeth dropped her fork on her plate, abruptly drawing her chair away from the table. "Excuse me," she said, as she stood up. "I've got a migraine coming on. Think I'd better go to bed. Jessie, will you take care of them?"
Everyone stared at her, including me — clearly, something was going on here. "Yeah, sure," I said. "You gonna be okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just got to lie down."
Celeste held up her glass, swirling the wine around, and winked at Manon. "And that is why you should never drink as much as your mom, darling."
Ouch. Elizabeth flexed her fingers, her lips a tight line. I could almost feel the anger radiating off her, sending sparks in all directions. I braced myself for the explosion, pretending to inspect my own shoes, but: "Goodnight, everyone. Love, help Jessie a bit, okay?" She kissed Manon on the top of her head, then said her goodbyes to everyone but Celeste. George didn't seem disturbed, already talking business with Peter again. He would've reacted differently had they slept together, right? And why would Celeste even bring her husband over if that was the case?
Nobody seemed to mind Elizabeth's departure much. In fact, Celeste seemed pleased with herself, laughing louder than before. Peter turned around to address me and knowing what was coming, I got up from the table. "I'm just gonna check on your mom, see if she needs anything," I said to Manon, but she didn't seem to hear me.
(Continued in next part)