ignore the potentially disastrous effect his being here could
have? Not just on you? On all of us?”
She stands, and takes a step toward the stairs. “You don’t
talk to me that way without consequence. You’re my live-in
nanny for two weeks.”
For life, is more like it. “For what? Speaking the truth?”
“When you’ve gone through everything I’ve gone through,
you have license to judge me. But until then, respect me.”
Conversation over.
She forgets that I
have
gone through everything she’s gone
through. The only difference is that I have no measure of con-
trol over the fucked-up decisions she makes. I’m just left deal-
ing with the fallout.
I wonder what she’d do if I just took off. If, by the time she
was ready for work, I just wasn’t here.
It’s too late for her to get someone to cover her shift. And
there’s no one to take care of the girls at short notice, not that
she can afford to pay a sitter anyway.
So she’ll lose her job if she doesn’t go, or she’ll have to ship
the girls off to Damien. Which is not an option.
There’s no choice about it. I have to stay home tonight.
I knock my head against the wall and listen to the creak of
the steps as Rosie climbs them.
Just my luck.
If the mysterious sand sculptress shows at the bonfire and
I’m not there, she’s going to think I’m an ass. She probably won’t
go, anyway, but wouldn’t this be the one night the stars aligned?
And I’m stuck here playing nanny on Carpenter Street.
Now I’ll never know if she cared enough to meet me or not.
I’ll never know if she was interested. And worse yet, she won’t
know that I
am
.
19
