Page 43 of A Convenient Secret
Okay, Zoya wasn’t ignoring her. It was I who carried that badge proudly. And Zach mirrored my behavior.
Somehow, overnight, he seems to have changed his attitude toward Lily. He treats her like any other nanny. They didn’t hear my arrival this morning, but I saw his little stunt.
Lily and Zoya meander in front of us, chatting andeating ice cream. Lily has been guarded and quieter than usual, stealing curious glances at me. To her credit, however, she is focused on the kids.
Well, on Zoya, who is animatedly explaining something, drops of her ice cream flickering around as she gesticulates with joy, holding the small plastic spoon.
Lily’s face equally expressive, she listens and oohs and ahs like my six-year-old daughter is telling her something incredibly riveting. She may be, I guess.
“Do you want to tell me about the milk incident?” I ask Zach. My arm throbs, but I don’t want to take painkillers. I don’t want to be high around my kids.
“Accident, Dad.” Zach scoops a small dollop of his ice cream.
“I saw.” I veer us toward a bench when I see Lily and Zoya sit on another one.
Zach sighs but doesn’t say anything.
“I thought you liked Lily as your nanny.” I angle myself so I don’t see said nanny, because, for this conversation I don’t want to be distracted.
“That was before.” Zach’s jaw is set.
“Before what?”
“When she was with us for one week only.” He basketballs his uneaten cup into a garbage bin.
“I don’t understand.”
Zoya chats two benches away from us. Evenwithout seeing her, I’m viscerally aware of Lily’s presence.
“I don’t want a nanny.” Zach folds his arm.
“Zach, I have a demanding job, and I do my best to spend as much of my time with you as possible—”
“I know that,” he interrupts.
“When I’m not around, we need help. You’re a smart boy and a great brother, but you seem to misbehave on purpose to drive the nannies away. Why?”
He stares at the ground, and then shifts his eyes to peek at me.
“You’re not in trouble, buddy. I just want to understand, so we can find a solution.” I pat his shoulders.
“You won’t get mad?”
I frown. “I won’t get mad.” I break my rule of never promising that.
As a parent, I learned that coercing that promise from me usually leads to something that makes me mad.
“If we have no nanny, Mommy might return. She would know we need her.”
His words cause another stab wound. Unlike the one in my arm, this one spreads pain through my heart. A wave of hopelessness mingles with regret and anger. At Kendra. At me. At this situation.
Have you asked them why they didn’t like the nannies?Fuck, why hadn’t I asked sooner?
I pull Zach closer to me. “Your mom…” I peter out, unsure how to continue this conversation. I’m absolutely unequipped for it.
I knew it would come one day. That my vague response about their mother having to live far, far away wouldn’t cut it forever.
I’m not ready to address it now. Not on a day when I’m running on coffee and pain.
