Before anyone could protest, I dashed into the hallway. Peeking into the living room, I saw Ari and Camille sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, fascinated by some colorful cartoon on the TV. Good. They wouldn't cause any trouble for a while.
I climbed the stairs and went straight ahead, to where I knew Elizabeth's bedroom was, and knocked on her door. "Elizabeth, are you okay?"
The door opened a few inches, revealing part of her face. She was frowning, of course. "What are you doing here? I told you, I just need to lie down." Her voice trembled, and it sounded dulled somehow.
"Just wanted to check if you needed anything."
She opened the door a bit further. She'd changed into a comfortable shirt and dark blue pajama pants with tiny roses on them. Judging by the cotton pad in her hand, she'd been about to remove her make-up. It struck me I'd never seen her without it before. "I told you I was fine."
But it was clear she wasn't. As she said it, it seemed to get harder and harder for her to speak, and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it. She sniffed, and her eyes were strangely clear, almost glasslike. Then, the first tear escaped, trailing a path over her smooth cheek.
My feet were nailed to the floor. I couldn't move at all, too shocked by what was happening in front of me.
Elizabeth Canfield, first-class tough boss and independent woman, was crying.
"Just leave me alone."
I couldn't. Not when her lips were shaking, not when she pressed her fingers to her forehead as if trying to stop the floodgates from opening by sheer force.
"Leave me alone, Jessie." But her voice was high and squeaky and broken, reflecting the pain in her eyes, and I was a nanny, after all.
"I'm not gonna leave you alone! You're bawling your heart out, for god's sake, how could I leave you alone?"
She staggered then, backward, retreating. She had left the door open, and I took that as permission to follow her in, closing it behind me in case Celeste decided to come snooping around.
Her room wasn't much bigger than mine, although certainly redone more recently, with a luxurious thick carpet and a picture of the raving ocean above a rigidly made-up California king bed. She had sat down in front of her vanity cabinet, attempting to dab at her eyeshadow, only the tears were coming out faster now, one after the other, already starting to leave black smudges.
I wasn't sure what to do. For one, we weren't exactly friends, and secondly, I still didn't know what was going on. I fidgeted in place, then decided to pick up a box of tissues from the bedside table and held them before her. "Here. I don't think you're gonna get anywhere with your make-up right now."
She took one, hiding her face in it. It didn't help much: her shuddering shoulders were a dead give-away.
I waited for a while, debating what I could say. Normally, I wasn't really a think-before-you-speak kinda girl, only I was treading on thin ice here. I had no idea what a miserable Elizabeth was capable of. "Does this... does this have anything to do with Celeste?"
She didn't say anything, although she seemed to stop for a moment.
Come on. This was just another nanny-situation, like when Manon was angry with her mother. "She was kinda shitty about the whole Connery thing." Out of nowhere, she let out a strangled howl, and for the first time since I knew her, I felt sorry for her. Genuinely sorry. I approached her, looking at her in the mirror, wondering if I should pat her on the back or something. "I know we don't always get along, but I hate seeing you like this," I blurted out then. "You're supposed to be glaring at me. And I always tell the girls it's best to get things off your chest."
Finally, she removed the tissue, her breathing coming in shocks. Black blotches had formed underneath her eyes, and her cheeks were red and glistening with tears. "Let's just say..." She took a deep breath. "I never... never wanted to see that woman again."
So, it was about Celeste. This seemed like a weird reaction if Elizabeth had slept with the husband, so it had to be something else. I probably shouldn't ask what, and yet, how could I calm her down if I didn't even know what'd happened? "Why?" I asked, trying to come off as harmless and gentle as possible. "What did she do to you?"
Elizabeth crumpled up the tissue, tossing it in the bin. Every muscle in her face seemed tight, her skin flushed red, like this was a game of who could hold their breath the longest. "It's not important," she managed to get out. "I just don't want her in my house."
Before I could even think about that, she broke. Legit broke, reminding me of the vase Ari had smashed a while back, shards and bits of dust scattered around the dining room. She wailed, no longer attempting to conceal it, her mouth stretched open while tears plunked down so fast they formed one steady line, and brought a shaking hand to her throat, bending over double, almost toppling off the stool. Totally lost, she slid off it, creeping towards her bed to seek support from the frame, hugging her knees to her chest like Manon did whenever she was sad.
I stood there frozen, my insides as cold as ice, completely taken aback, thinking she must've forgotten I was even there, when she looked up. Snot dripped from her nose, and she wiped it on her sleeve, something I never expected her to ever do, not even in the worst of circumstances. "I'm fine," she said, her voice thick. "I'm gonna be fine. Go. Look after the kids."
But she was obviously lying. I'd rarely seen anyone less fine than her at the moment, and that included the states in which I'd discovered my brothers throughout my life. I wasn't somebody who could walk away when someone was this down in the dumps. Maybe it was even worse this time. After all, she was normally such a strong person, and I couldn't imagine what kind of nasty stuff had had to be done to her to reduce her to a blubbering mess.
I approached her slowly, like she was a cat I didn't want to scare away. "The kids are fine. I think it's you that needs to be looked after."
She rewarded me with a scowl, though it wasn't as sharp as usual, and continued her wheezing right after. Tentatively, I sat down next to her, offering her another tissue. She took it immediately.
"Look, I know we're not best friends. But still. I am here if you need to talk. And I really think you need to talk. So tell me, why don't you want that woman in the house?"
She pulled the tissue away so I could see her. "I'm —" she hiccoughed, "I'm not one of the kids."
"I know. You've told me that about three times by now. But you know, I'm not only a nanny, I'm a person too, and I think the person-me is a very good listener."
Another deep breath. She dragged her hair aside, then removed a stray one from her mouth, and swallowed visibly. "Connery," she began, and suddenly I knew what she was going to tell me before she did, "wasn't always faithful. And Celeste is one... she's..." She gestured with her hand, like she was physically unable to pronounce the right words. "She told me they had an affair. He hadn't even left for a week, and she just told me—" The rest of the sentence got cut off, like the air had been struck from her lungs, and she howled again, roughly rubbing her face like it'd help against the tears. "She acted like we were in the same boat, telling me how she missed him, how she felt like he abandoned her. But I was his fucking wife." There was a spat of the familiar venom, only it got drowned in her misery.
I sat there in silence, just staring at her. My stomach had turned upside down, and I was so horrified I couldn't move. What kind of human would do that to someone else? What kind of human would do that, and say that, and then just come over for dinner and ask after him like she was genuinely concerned?
All at once, Elizabeth's behavior tonight made sense — or maybe not, because I couldn't for the life of me understand why she had let that woman even near her house, let alone invite her in. Maybe, in this instance, I would've followed Ma's advice and struck her in her cunt or boobs, right where it hurts the most.
Elizabeth buried her face in her hands again. "You should go back down," she said, trying to imitate her usual stern self.
"No! Absolutely not. If I go back down now, I'll start a fight, and I'm pretty sure that would scar the kids for life."
She sniffed and shook her head, her hair flying around her. "I shouldn't have told you that. You're here for the kids. I shouldn't have..." But the rest of it was cut short by another sob.
"Well, I, for one, am glad you told me that. Because she's despicable, and we should just kick her cheating ass out of the house right this moment."
Elizabeth shook her head again, turning her tired, wet eyes on me. "It's not that simple. You've seen Connery's parents; they love her. They think she's amazing, her, and her husband, and his dick of a brother I will never go out with, no matter how many times they bring him around." Her spite seemed to return some strength to her, almost like the Elizabeth I knew.
"Yeah, well, what do you care? I say the bitch has to go."
"It's not that simple, Jessie," she repeated.
She gasped for air again, and before I could think it through, I threw my arm around her shoulder. I was sure she was going to push me away and tell me to clear off, so when she only started to shake more violently and actually rested her head against me, I was almost overcome with shock. I didn't dare move, scared she'd realize what she was doing and send me away, just sitting there as she cried her heart out.
Manon had told me her mom would cry whenever she brought the cheating up, only I hadn't imagined it would look like this. Elizabeth came across as a solid concrete wall, and yet, right now, she was in pieces, nothing more than a broken soul. I knew I had to bring it up. I had to. It just seemed like such a shitty thing to do at the moment. "You know," I said quietly, "there are... rumors... about you."
She straightened up and huffed, wiping at her cheeks. "I know that. I really don't like discussing those."
But I couldn't let it go now. Not when Manon might be hating her mom for no reason at all. "Yeah, well, you don't have a choice because I need to know." It was probably best to just come out and say it. "Did you ever cheat on your husband?"
Her expression hardened. "Yes."
There was a pang of disappointment — I couldn't help it. For a short moment, I'd thought maybe everyone had pegged her wrong all along.
She opened her mouth again, hesitated, then continued: "I did once. It sounds stupid, but I— Maybe, if I did what he did, I thought... that maybe. I don't know."
I had never heard her stutter like this. For once, she was showing me what was going on behind the curtains, and it was a whole different show than I thought I had tickets for. Maybe she really wasn't bad at all. Maybe it was others that'd painted that picture of her, and I had judged her too soon. French movie night came to mind, with her defending me from her own daughter. Oh, boy. French movie night. French. Connery. "So... he cheated a lot, did he?"
She nodded slowly, running both her hands through her hair as she took a deep breath. "It was my fault, though," she said. "I wasn't a good wife."
"I really don't think him cheating on you can be your fault."
The shaking had stopped, as had the crying. She was just looking at me now, still beautiful even with her make-up all messed up. "Jessie, just... you have no idea, alright?"
"No, this is bullshit. Why would it be your fault?"
She wasn't making any sense. All at once, it was like she'd pulled up all her walls, shutting me out again with a stony face. "You've never been married," she said, in a tone that suggested she was talking to a child, and I wondered if she was deliberately trying to annoy me. "You have no idea what you're talking about. Leave. I want to be alone."
I did get up, though I had no intention of just going back downstairs, pretending all was fine. My shadow fell on her, and suddenly she seemed small. "Manon thinks it was you, you know," I said, watching her reaction closely. "He told her when she was six. That you were the one who cheated. She thinks you slept with half the neighborhood."
"I know."
"Then why don't you tell her the truth?"
She huffed. "Yes, because that would be good for her. At least, this way, she knows it wasn't her fault he left."
She couldn't be serious. What kind of twisted reasoning was behind this? "Elizabeth, she tries to hate you because she thinks her dad is some kind of superman."
She shrugged, her eyes empty and depthless. Part of me wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.
"She should know the truth. Right now, she thinks she has to be loyal to her lousy father."
"It's a phase. It only started at the beginning of this year anyway. She'll get over it."
"Like you got over it, you mean?"
Oops. Now I'd gone too far. I hadn't been thinking anyway, frustrated with her nonsensical behavior, so of course, I had to say something totally tactless and Jessie-like.
She lifted a trembling hand and pointed at the door. "Out." This wasn't iciness; this was a major earthquake trying to sweep me off my feet.
"Elizabeth—"
"Out!"
Maybe it was best. I'd woken up the sleeping lioness, and she seemed ready to tear my head off. I backed away but stopped at the door. I knew I was pushing it, only I didn't think anyone had ever told her this, and she deserved to hear it. "Whatever you did, it can't have been that bad that it excuses him cheating on you."
I left before she could decide to fire me on the spot.