Page 17 of Forbidden Fruit

Usually, nothing phases me, scares me or excites me. It’s been like this for years and I think it might just be a malfunction in my brain at this point. But observing Vanessa with my kids, seeing her pensive or frowning or smiling, it does something inside my chest.

Me

I hope Livia is being good. If she asks to sit on the counter, it’s a no.

I go back to the app once more and watch. She doesn’t disappoint. Vanessa rolls her eyes before taking Livia under the arm and bringing her down to the floor, where my daughter starts to throw a tantrum.

That backfired. I didn’t mean to make her job more complicated.

I scrub a hand over my face. My work completely forgotten, I watch as Vanessa lowers down in front of Livia. I don’t know what she says, but my daughter storms out of the room and Vanessa follows.

I close the app and swallow hard.

A strange sensation fills up my chest, and the noises in my head quieten.

I frown because such a curious reaction to a mundane interaction leaves me speechless. When I wondered why I was so numb, I scoured the internet and chronic depression was the answer that came up the most. I never did anything about it, just got used to it and kept on going, the only joy filling my life being the smiles of my son and daughter.

This app is giving me something I haven’t had in years and I don’t even have a name for it. This sense of floating and silence seems almost unnatural. I’m unsure if I like it or not.

At school pick up time, I watch Vanessa put on her coat and then help Livia put hers. She does a weird thing of putting the coat on the floor open with the top side facing Livia. My kid bends forward like Vanessa shows, sliding both her little arms inside the sleeves of the coat and flipping it up over her head until it settles on her shoulders.

It’s quite clever and though I’m sure she didn’t invent it, I have to commend Vanessa for her ingenuity and for teaching my kid independence.

The rest of the week happens much the same.

I tell myself to leave my nanny alone, yet I watch twice, sometimes three times a day. At lunchtime, I lock myself in my office and open the app while I eat the leftovers from the previous day at my desk. I could almost believe I was with them. I could almost believe I wasn’t so alone anymore.

Every time I close the app, I tell myself it will be the last time and yet I open it again the next day.

I justify it by pretending it helps me to get to know Vanessa better, but there’s more to it than that.

I didn’t pay enough attention to her before. The thrill was new; I wanted to make sure Livia was taken care of; I felt like I was infringing on Vanessa’s privacy. Now, it’s like an addiction.

I finally looked it up online. What I feel when I see her on the screen and see that all is well in my children’s world ispeace. Except, I’m not just at peace knowing my children are well. The feeling comes from knowingsheis, too. That in my employ, she thrives.

I want her to. I want her happy and safe. Fulfilled even.

But the purple under her eyes that has only grown darker over the week is concerning. It’s Friday now, and Vanessa looks exhausted. Her skin doesn’t glow like it did last week. And today, she doesn’t even wear any makeup. If I know something about Vanessa Winfrey is that she always wears black eyeliner with pink on her cheeks and shiny lipstick on her lips.

Unfortunately, when I come home, we barely talk. She tells me about the day and what the kids did, but she doesn’t linger and I don’t do anything to make her stay. I have no right to ask, but I want to. I want to know why she’s tired, if it’s because of the kids and she’s going to quit. Or if it is because of her financial situation.

There isn’t a good way for me to ask, so I don’t.

“Hi, Mr Marquesi,” she greets me when I enter my well-lit house. All the lights are on, which means she’s distracted.

“Hi, Vanessa. How was today?” Her name slips off my tongue and I clench my teeth, hoping she doesn’t notice.

“Wonderful. Since Anton ends school earlier on Fridays, we went to the park and played with the cutest puppy.”

“Can we have a dog,babbu?” Anton asks and I lift my gaze to the sky then back down just in time to catch Vanessa pulling her lips into her mouth like she’s trying to avoid smiling.

“A dog is a responsibility,picculinu.”

“I know, but I’m a big boy now. I’d take good care of it. I would walk them and then they would pee outside and I would play with them and run with them and feed them too. Please,babbu,” he begs.

I look to Vanessa, who just shrugs like she didn’t start the discussion of the century.

“We’ll talk about it. Go wash your hands, we’ll have dinner soon.” He leaves and I turn my attention to Vanessa. My eyes must tell the story of my displeasure because her smile disappears. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t convince my kids to make life-changing decisions right now. They need stability.”