Chapter 24: Arianna
I expect to wake to the cries of the baby, so I’m surprised when it’s the sun slanting through the blinds that gets me first.
I peer at the grandfather clock on the dresser. It’s after eight!
I jump out of bed and hurry through the bathroom to the baby’s room. I imagine all sorts of things. That the mother came back and kidnapped her. That she was smothered in the improper bedding. SIDS. A heart defect.
But the sight I find is completely unexpected.
Dell, asleep in the dining chair we moved to the room.
Grace, asleep on his chest.
His bare feet are propped on Max, his dog.
The greyhound looks up at me with weary eyes, as if to say, can I please move now?
“You’re a good dog,” I say.
Dell snaps awake. He looks around, trying to get his bearings. Grace slides a little, and he tightens his grip on her. “What?”
I watch as it all comes back to him. The baby. The room. Me.
“I’ll take her,” I say. I reach for Grace and shift her from his chest to my arms.
My skin connects with his, and that fire flares in me. I haven’t forgotten my decision from last night. And seeing him there with the baby this morning hasn’t hurt his case.
Dell leaps from the chair. “What time is it?”
“A little after eight.”
“Shit,” he says. “Shit, shit.”
He takes off out of the room. I follow him for a few steps, then shrug. He’s here. I’m here. It’s another day waiting for test results.
Grace stirs as I head back to my own room. I send a quick text to Taylor that I’m still tied up with the baby situation and to hold down the fort. She writes back to say all is well. Every teacher arrived that morning, and Maria is back on organization duties.
I let out a sigh. That’s always the big problem, handling any last-minute staff absences. I tell her to use Maria as a floater if needed during the day and that I will be upstairs if anything needs my attention.
When I set down my phone, I feel a sense of accomplishment. Dell’s comment yesterday that I had to micromanage my substandard employees was dead wrong. I don’t even have to be there today.
“Let’s get you a bath,” I tell Grace. “Then we’ll scare up some breakfast.”
Grace gurgles in return. She seems happy this morning. She’ll need feeding soon, but if she’s content, I’ll wait.
We don’t have a proper baby tub and she’s too small for the regular bathtub, but the sink will work fine. I run the water, waiting for the perfect temperature, humming to Grace.
I set her on the changing pad and pull the “Genius” shirt off.
Wait. She wasn’t wearing that last night.
I spot the sleeper on the counter. Obviously she soiled it.
“Did Dell change you last night?” I ask. I’m impressed. He did it without waking anyone or having a cow. Maybe he’s going to be all right after all.
Grace babbles in response. I tug off her pants.
Then laugh out loud. The diaper comes off with them. They aren’t fastened in any way, just held in place by the leggings.
Dell hadn’t attached the Velcro.
“Your daddy is silly,” I say before I catch myself. He might not be the father. But Grace takes no notice, happily waving her arms.
I check the water and fill the sink, adding a few drops of baby wash. It suds lightly, and I feel happy and content as I slide Grace into the water.
She loves the feeling, smiling and kicking to make a splash.
“You like that, huh?” I tug a washcloth from the towel rack and smooth it over her soft baby skin.
My throat tightens a little as I realize how good this feels. Maybe being a mother is something I want for myself after all.
Grace beams up at me as I elongate the bath, letting her play. “You need some water toys,” I say. It seems like we bought a million things yesterday, but really there was so much more. I wonder if Dell would be up for another trip. We could go to a boutique store this time, since we have all the diapers and basics.
“Let’s run up his credit card,” I say to her.
She smiles. She agrees wholeheartedly.
Finally the water cools, so I pull her out and dry her off. I take my time giving her lotion and clean clothes, savoring her sweet smell and the quiet peace of a lazy morning. She looks adorable in the race car romper.
Then my stomach growls. Grace looks up at me as if realizing she is hungry too. Her forehead crumples.
I glance down at my T-shirt and pajama pants. “At least one of us is ready to face the day,” I tell her.
But I don’t have time to change. We need a bottle before she starts wailing.
I cradle her and pad out into the hall. “Hello?” I call.
Bernard materializes by the kitchen door. “Yes, madam?”
“Are there any bottles ready?” I ask.
“I’ve kept one on hand,” he says. “Let me warm it.”
I stay in the hall, jiggling Grace. I wonder if Dell is in his room, or maybe the study. All the bedroom doors are closed other than mine and Grace’s.
I walk down to the living room. The study is open, so I cross to peek in.
Light creates a pattern across the enormous oak desk, the conference table, the arrangement of a love seat and two chairs.
But no Dell.
He must be showering or something.
Grace starts to fuss, so I walk with a bouncy step, keeping her as calm as I can. When we make it to the kitchen, Bernard is just fishing the bottle out of a pan of hot water.
“They make a special machine for heating bottles,” I tell him. “We have an industrial-sized one in the day care.”
“This is no bother,” he says and passes the milk to me.
I test it on my wrist, which seems to annoy him. But he says nothing. It’s the perfect temperature. Of course.
I slide the nipple into Grace’s mouth and walk to the breakfast nook. Max isn’t by the door to his atrium as usual. I peer in. He’s completely conked out on a rug near the back wall.
Rough night for him too.
I walk back through the kitchen, where Bernard is mixing eggs. “Omelet, madam?” he asks.
“Sounds great,” I say. I’m famished.
“Give me a few minutes.”
I pass on through and back to the hall. This time I walk down to the last door, Dell’s bedroom. I listen carefully. I can’t hear anything.
Huh.
I return to Grace’s room to give her the bottle in the chair. Maybe she’ll take a nap after this and I can shower. I’m sure I look an absolute fright.
The bottle is just about empty when Bernard appears in the doorway. “Your omelet is in the warmer when you’re ready,” he says.
I glance down at Grace. She is happy and kicking, nowhere near sleep. I shrug. I can eat an omelet with one hand.
By the time I make it to the breakfast nook, Bernard has already set the table with my omelet, toast, orange juice, and coffee.
“Thank you, Bernard,” I say, propping the baby in my arm.
He nods and disappears into the depths of the kitchen.
I attack the egg with a ferocity seconded only by when I pick up the coffee cup. I don’t usually take it black, but today it feels perfect. Hot and strong.
When the cup is empty, Bernard is already there with the coffeepot.
How does he do that?
“Has Dell already had breakfast?” I ask.
“Mr. Brant does not eat breakfast at home,” Bernard says. “He has a chef at the office.”
Or Cap’n Crunch in his desk, I think with an inward smile. “When will he leave?”
Bernard’s face is perfectly impassive as he says, “He left some time ago.”
“Oh!” I look down at Grace. It must have been during her bath.
A buzz sounds and Bernard excuses himself and walks away. I’m still reeling from the fact that Dell just left me with this child when Bernard returns with a woman I recognize.
“Ms. Hart?” she asks, confusion on her face as she takes in the baby, my outfit, and my hair.
I stand up quickly. It’s Carrie, a sub I use regularly. “Hey,” I say. “You’re here for the nanny position?”
She nods, her eyes wide. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
“Emergency help,” I say. “It was a special situation.”
“So you know this young woman?” Bernard asks.
“Yes,” I tell him. “She works for me all the time.”
“And you think she is good with children?” His expression hasn’t changed.
“Um, sure,” I say. “She’s been a valuable substitute for me for about a year.”
Bernard turns to her. “Then you are hired. Can you start immediately?”
Carrie’s expression is of shock. She hasn’t even said anything. “I think so. I’m not busy today.”
“Excellent,” Bernard says. “I’ll show you to the room.”
The room! My stuff is in there.
Bernard leads Carrie down the hall. I look down at Grace. She kicks her little bare feet. What is going on here?
I hurry after them. When I get to the room, I’m aghast. The bed is made. My things are repacked. He must have done it while I ate breakfast.
“This looks good,” Carrie says. “Does he want a live-in?”
“He would prefer it,” Bernard says.
“We haven’t discussed salary,” Carrie says.
Bernard tugs a card from his pocket. He hands it to Carrie. “We’re currently looking for someone through Monday afternoon, with a move to permanent if everything falls into place.”
He points to a number. “This is for the daytime only through Monday.”
Carrie nods.
“And this is if you stay here around the clock until Monday.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Seriously? That’s…” She seems overcome. “Okay. I have an obligation Friday night, but the others I could be here.”
“We can accommodate that,” Bernard says. He was obviously given very explicit instructions.
“I will need some things,” Carrie says. “I wasn’t expecting to start so quickly, and certainly not for overnight.”
Bernard glances at me and hesitates. “We can discuss the details shortly,” he says. “But there will be an opportunity this afternoon for Mr. Brant to help you settle in.”
I want to huff out a loud breath at “settle in.” I have no doubt what that means to Dell. I imagine him and Carrie all cozy with Grace late tonight and jealousy blasts through me, hot and unexpected.
Carrie drops her purse on the dresser next to the grandfather clock. She turns to me. “I’ll take her,” she says. “I can manage from here.”
“Her room is through the bathroom,” I say, waving my hand lamely. “All her things are there.”
Carrie nods. “Thank you, Arianna,” she says. She heads into the nursery room.
Bernard stays behind. He pulls another envelope from his pocket. “Dell asked me to give this to you should the new nanny work out.” Then he leaves the room.
I sit on the bed, then stand up again, feeling awkward since it belongs to Carrie now.
Maybe I should look at this in my own apartment downstairs. I walk to my bag, but my curiosity is too strong. I lean against the wall and rip it open.
It’s handwritten on heavy textured paper with a monogrammed B at the top.
Arianna,
Thank you for your incredible sacrifice of a day and night of your life for baby Grace. I have made a contribution of $12,000 to the March of Dimes in the name of Del Gato Child Spa.
Dell Brant
Well. That’s nice. I can’t exactly be mad at him for that, even if he didn’t say good-bye.
I fold up the note and tuck it in my bag. I glance at the bathroom, wondering if I should at least change. I’ve never walked through my building in a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. The Dell Brant Building isn’t exactly a freshman dorm.
But everything feels strange now. None of the spaces belong to me, and Dell is no longer here to shepherd me.
So I slip on my shoes, pick up my bag, and head into the hall.
Bernard is already by the door.
“Your assistance has been most appreciated, madam,” he says.
“It’s Arianna,” I say. “I really prefer Arianna.”
“Arianna, then,” Bernard says. His formal expressionless face cracks just a bit beneath his gray hair.
I pass through the door and head to the elevator. It’s so quiet out here. I press the down button and wait. The elevator is on the ground floor. It will be a minute.
The door to the penthouse has already closed. It’s just me and a couple potted plants, plus two chairs along the wall. I walk over to the window to look at the park. It’s another sunshiny day. Thursday. At this time yesterday, I had only just met Dell Brant.
And now I don’t know him anymore.
My chest aches a little, like I lost something important. I shake it off. That’s ridiculous. This was nothing. Just twenty-four hours of an insane panic-driven life. Diapers. Shopping. Midnight dream kisses.
It is over now.
Back to ordinary Arianna.