Page 12 of Forbidden Fruit
The tick in his jaw tells a story I can’t wait to know. I’m a big fan of his daughter right now just for giving him shit. He deserves to be tested.
“Livia stopped throwing a tantrum about not going to school with Anton and in exchange, she gets to stay in her pyjamas until lunch. Not a minute later,picculina, do you understand?”
“Sí,babbu.”
While Anton is quite the talkative charmer, from what I’ve seen, Livia seems to take after her father. I barely heard her speak yesterday, and she didn’t address me directly. For some reason, I’m eager to prove myself to her, to show I’m worthy of her voice.
“Very well. Let’s go,picculinu. Miss Winfrey, I will see you tonight.”
“Have a good day,” I quip, then cringe. Mr Marquesi isn’t my friend, he’s my boss. I need to act like it. And being extra enthusiastic and bubbly will not make him smile more, so it’s stupid of me to waste my energy on a man who doesn’t seem to know how zygomatic muscles work.
“Well, Miss Livia, why don’t you show me around? Your dad forgot to do it and I don’t know where the bathroom is, or your room, or Anton’s. It’d be nice to have a guide who knows the place.”
I expect her to show me, but it seems, now that her dad is gone, she’s coming out of her shell, taking the lead and holding my hand. I could cry in victory. What others might see as an insignificant gesture means so much to me. I know that connecting with Anton and Livia as a caregiver is primordial for them to feel safe and to trust me to protect them and meet their needs when their parents aren’t here.
“Babbu’s work is there,” she says with her baby voice on our way to the stairs, gesturing to a closed door just behind the living room. I remember it from last night. The room had seemed dull and uninviting. That space is highly under-utilised, in my opinion. Bookshelves could be lining the walls and a nice fluffy rug sitting in the middle of the room. Instead were metal cabinets. I won’t be going in there uninvited, and considering the sterile feel of that place, I don’t want to.
In contrast, the rest of the house feels modern and spacious. The glass staircase seems suspended in mid-air and speaks of wealth and an eye for design. I marvel at the grandiose decor as I walk to the upper floor with Livia.
Probably put there by Mrs Marquesi.
Ex-Marquesi.
I can’t believe I didn’t even look him up online or find out anything about his ex-wife. I was so focused on getting this gig and not getting kicked out of my place, nothing else mattered.
We reach the top of the stairs. The first floor is painted an off-white colour that gives a warmth to the space despite it being February. Livia looks over her shoulder at me from time to time, as if to check I’m still following, still here despite her hand clasped in mine. I can’t blame her if her mum hasn’t been with her for a while.
My heart squeezes painfully. I don’t know her circumstances, so it’s not my place to judge. Yet, I ache for Anton and Livia. I know what it’s like to miss your mother.
We enter a soft green room with jungle wallpaper, and I immediately know it’s Anton’s and Livia’s. Not only because I doubt Mr. Marquesi would choose such a wallpaper for his own space but also because of the single bed with spaceship-covered sheets and a teddy bear, while a crib is close by.
“Is this where you and your brother sleep?”
“Yes. Anton here and me, here.” She points to each bed. “This is our closet. This is the change spot. And these are my toys.”
After I play with Livia for hours with Play-Dough and Anton’s miniature cars, I managed to have her take a shower and change before preparing a light lunch together. She napped until almost three in the afternoon and took her sweet time waking up and putting back on the clothes I had to bargain with her to put on in the first place.
Which means we’re late to pick up Anton.
I look at my watch and it’s nine minutes past three. I enter the school’s courtyard, Livia in her stroller because I couldn’t have her walk at a snail's pace.
“Hi, I’m so sorry, I’m a little late. I’m Vanessa Winfrey, Anton Marquesi’s nanny. I think Mr Marquesi informed you I would pick up Anton,” I tell the person I’m assuming is Anton’s teacher.
“Oh, hi. Anton was so excited for you to come pick him up, but when he didn’t see you, he started crying. I brought him back inside. He’s waiting in the classroom. Follow me.”
At least she’s not yelling at me, so that’s a good sign.I hope.
That hope is crushed when I enter the classroom and see Anton at a little desk, his head bowed and forehead resting inside his crossed arms. My throat closes, but I approach him slowly, resting on my haunches next to him.
“Hey,anghjulu.”
“I thought you weren’t coming.” His voice is strained and comes out muffled from under his arms.
“Oh buddy, of course I came. I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t realise I needed more time to wake up Livia from her nap. And that I’d need to walk really fast. It’s my fault. I should have been more careful with time.”
“I thought you left like Mamma.”
I clench my jaw and close my eyes while I force down my emotions.