“Holly,” David says, stressing my name in two syllables, “how come I have to speak stupid French and she doesn’t?”
One of my few nannily duties is teaching the kids French, Spanish, and Japanese. Tuesday we try to speak French as much as possible; Wednesday it’s Spanish; Thursday, Japanese. As can be expected, Casey and David have never been thrilled with the task, but they do pretty well, especially Casey who seems to be picking up the languages very quickly.
But today I don’t feel like fighting with them.
David starts to whine again but I turn and lean down and extend my finger so it’s right in his face.
“I’m not in the mood, David,” I say, my voice low and hard.
His face goes serious. He nods slowly.
“If you two don’t want to speak French today, then I don’t care. It’s for your benefit anyway.”
I stand up straight and turn away. I start walking toward the Seals and Sea Lion exhibit. I don’t bother glancing back to see if the kids are following me; I know they are because I can hear the scuff of their sneakers on the macadam.
We’ve been to this zoo enough times that I practically have the entire layout memorized. At least once a month, if not twice, we take the metro up to the zoo. Today their vote was to come here even though they’re calling for rain—and as can be expected the place is pretty much deserted. Still, it’s summer and there are families here who drove from out of state, even day campers, and a few adults walking around with cameras and brochures.
By the time we get to the Seals and Sea Lion exhibit, David and Casey have caught up and are matching my pace. Casey reaches up and takes my hand; David just walks beside me, his arms swinging.
We’re quiet for a long time as we watch the sea lions. A brown pelican walks around behind the thick glass, opening and closing its massive beak.
After a while, I clear my throat.
“David, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’ve just … it’s been a bad couple days.”
“Is it because Jenny is getting married and you aren’t?”
Jenny is Blondie.
“No, kiddo, it’s not that.”
“But you don’t have a boyfriend or anything.”
I look down at him and grin. “What are you saying—you want to be my boyfriend?”
“Yuck,” he says, crinkling his nose. “Girls are gross.”
Casey says, “We are not!”
“Guys,” I say.
“You are too!”
“Enough,” I say, my voice so loud it causes the pelican to stop its walking, for a couple of the sea lions to glance our way, not to mention a handful of people standing around us. “If you two keep it up you’ll be speaking French all day.”
Both stay quiet.
My cell phone rings.
I dig it out of my purse, see it’s my sister calling.
“Yeah, Tina, what’s up?”
“Tomorrow afternoon, one o’clock sharp. You’ll be meeting with Sandra Price. She’ll want your résumé and a completed application, but the application is just for their records, so don’t sweat it. Do you know what you’re going to wear?”
I’m quiet for a moment, not having any idea what the hell it is she’s talking about.
Then it hits me and I say, “I’m watching the kids all day tomorrow.”
“I know that,” Tina says. “David and Casey have played with the boys before. I figure I’ll take them to a movie during the interview. They won’t even know you’re gone.”
I glance down at David and Casey, both who are looking up at me.
“I don’t know what I have to wear,” I say.
“I’ll help you with that.”
“I don’t even have a résumé.”
Tina says she’ll stop over at my apartment later with the boys to raid my closet. Later, they’ll take me back to their house where she’ll make dinner and Ryan will help me with my résumé and walk me through what is expected of me at an interview.
The kids are still watching me, so I say, “Sounds good, Tina, I’ll see you then,” and end the call.
I must be smiling, because David says, “Guess the week’s looking better, huh?”
Twenty-Three
It’s already raining by the time we make it back to the house. I park beside Walter’s car and David throws off his seat belt, opens his door, and bolts toward the back porch. By then I’m already getting out of the car, shouting at him, “Thanks for being a gentleman and waiting,” and then I hurry around the car and open up the door for Casey who has already unclipped her seat belt. On the drive, there had been lightning, and Casey hates lightning, absolutely hates it, and for this reason alone she wants me to carry her.
“Thanks, Holly,” Casey says simply, kicking her feet so I will let her down once we’re inside.
I set her down and she scampers away, the lightning suddenly forgotten. The only evidence that David has been through here is his wet sneakers lying scattered on the floor.
I enter the kitchen to find Sylvia cooking something on the stove. Baron lies off in the corner, watching me, his tail thumping.
“Smells good.”
Sylvia smiles at me. “Why look at you, Miss Holly—completely soaked.”
Now that the kids are home, I don’t have to worry about them anymore. They’ll plant themselves in front of the TV for the next hour or so until Marilyn comes home.
I grab some paper towels by the sink, start drying my hair.
Sylvia has two large pots going at once. She stirs one of them, stirs the other, then turns to me and says, “Mr. Hadden said he’d like to see you when you came in.”
“Was he in a good mood or a bad mood?”
“Child, that man only has one mood: serious.”
On the way to Walter’s study I check in on the kids. They’re both on the couch, their attention glued to a rerun of Blue’s Clues. That works
