Page 41 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
I gave her a sheepish grin. “Skyla was right. Those would never have fit my mother. I figured you’d be able to wear them though, since you tried them on and all, and they fit you.”
“How much does your mother weigh?” she demanded.
A shrug. “I don’t know. I’m not good at that.”
Angelina’s brows lowered menacingly. “Guess.”
I wrinkled my nose. “A couple bills maybe? A little more, like two-twenty, two-thirty?”
“Iknewit.” She threw up her hands and blew out a loud breath. “I knew it when you wanted me to try them on. Why did you do that? I told you I didn’t want you buying me clothes.”
“No… you said I didn’tneedto.”
Angelina shot me a death glare worthy of my toughest opponents. Luckily I was a master at deflecting blows.
“I can’t have you taking my kids all over the place without nice clothes. They’re part of your job.”
In actuality, I loved the way Angelina looked just as she was. I just wanted her to have nice things, and it was obvious she wasn’t going to buy them for herself, even with the generous salary I was paying her.
Besides, if there was anything I could do to influence her decisionnotto move into the monastery, I was going to do it.
Her eyes rolled so hard I worried they’d detach. “That’s ridiculous. None of the other nannies wear designer clothes.”
“You’re not just another nanny. You’re…”
Special. You’re muchmorethan that. You’re important to me.You’remine.
“You’remynanny. And I don’t want my nanny dressing like some frumpy old lady.”
“Old lady?” She gasped. “Isthatwhat you think of my appearance?”
She was mad now. And I was well on my way to getting there myself. There was nothing wrong with buying a gift for someone, and she needed to work on her gift-receiving attitude, especially if she was going to continue living in my house.
I’d never met a woman who didn’t like getting presents—it was the only thing that had seemed to make Anouk happy.
And Ilikedgiving gifts. So what? It wasn’t like I was hurting anyone.
Unlike Anouk and I, Angelina and I had never argued before—a fact I hadn’t realized until this moment.
But her refusal of my goodwill gesture felt like a slap in the face. The ding to my pride ignited my temper and loosened my tongue.
“You wanna know what I think? I think you hide.” I gestured to the blousy outdated shirt she wore. “Behind all that cheap fabric and your pinned-back hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” Her hand flew up to her head, and her face was all offended tension.
But I didn’t stop. “Nothing. If you want to look like my great-grandma Olive, God rest her soul. You scrape it back off your face and ball it up in that little bun thingy like it’s something to be ashamed of.Ithink you’re afraid for anyone to see the real you. Because then you might have to admit youdowant things. You might have to go for what you want instead of acting like the pious little church-lady your mom wants you to be. You’d have to step off your holier-than-thou pedestal and face the fact you have needs and desires just like the rest of us mere humans.”
“You… you…” Her face was white with fury. “You insufferable brute.”
Nearby, my daughters sucked in audible breaths and then giggled. Like me, they’d never heard Angelina raise her voice before or even speak harshly. She certainly didn’t spit out insults, but apparently her temper was just as hot as mine was.
“You don’t knowanythingabout how I was raised,” she said. “You couldn’t possibly understand the kind of childhood I had or how much I struggled just to be normal instead of some kind of freak, how I had to learn to put away any notions of what I might want for myself or my future because I knew it wasnevergoing to happen.”
“You might be surprised,” I interjected. “I understand better than you think I do. I basically raised myself from the age of thirteen.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but we arenothingalike. You bully everyone and pull out your big fat wallet and use your money and your big muscles toforcethings to go your way. No wonder your wife left you. And for your information—I wouldn’t wear that tiny little bikini if my life depended on it.”
Angelina whirled from the room and practically ran up the stairs, apparently unable to endure my company a minute longer.
