Page 9 of Forbidden Fruit
Like this interaction is nothing stressful or out of the ordinary, Anton picks up his miniature car and goes back to play, but I pause when I see a wide-eyed Livia whose focus is riveted on the hallway. I know when I turn around, I’ll see the person who might spend more time with my kids than I will. A fact that didn’t occur to me until now and suddenly, I’m overcome with nausea.
Outsourcing my children’s care makes me physically unwell, and yet, here I am, about to hire someone to spend ten hours a day with them when I only get two, at best. I didn’t even want kids to begin with, too scared I would pass on whatever this dark sickness in my head is, but Monica begged me to keep the baby when she found out she was pregnant with Anton. My son is the best thing to happen to me, and I thought I was doing the right thing by marrying her then. If it were now, marriage wouldn’t be the road I choose.
I turn slowly and a sense of déjà vu assaults me.
She stands proud in a pair of white sneakers, tight light blue jeans and an oversized brown knitted sweater that compliments her olive skin like it was made for her. She holds a thread-bare coat on her arm. I’m glad she didn’t have to come here via public transport. The wind is freezing and I doubt she’d survive in that garment.
I’ve seen this woman before, but where?
Her soft features reminds me of a Greek Goddess, meant to be worshipped and protected. Something is so familiar about the hazel of her eyes. I squint as though it’d help find the answer.
And then it hits me like a freight train. She is the stranger from outside Lady in White on Friday and the girl who threw the cocktails over me on Sunday evening.
I swipe a hand over my face. I found her charming that night, with her short skirt and avoidant gaze; she seemed flustered by what was going on in the club, her innocence had beenrefreshing. But she couldn’t hold a cocktail on a tray, so how is she going to take care of my children, who are chaotic and far more fragile?
This is a nightmare. I should have never agreed to this.
Alana clears her throat.
As if suddenly remembering this is my house and I’m supposed to be the host, I take a step forward and thrust my hand at her without breaking eye contact. When she reaches to shake it, electricity ricochets between our outstretched fingers, and she jumps back.
“Ouch! Sorry, static,” she scoffs and shakes her fingers. “I’m Vanessa. It’s nice to meet you.” Her voice is warm and rich like a ripe peach, deeper than I was expecting from such a small woman. I tell myself it’s pleasant because I hate nasal sounds.
“This is Lino Marquesi,” Alana interjects while giving me a look that says,get your shit together. “Do you want to introduce your children to Vanessa, Lino? I have to run to another meeting, but I’m sure this will work out perfectly. If it doesn’t, Vanessa, call me and we’ll work something out.”
I don’t know what that was about, but I don’t like it. I know Alana works with people who can’t find work for a variety of reasons—many of which aren’t their doing and it makes me wonder what Vanessa’s story is. I have to believe my boss wouldn’t bring a wolf into my home, but I don’t know anything about this woman other than her first name and that she’s clumsy. And young.
Pierce and I have got close over the past year, so I’ll need to ask him to do a background check on Vanessa. As the Head of Security of the Moretti Empire, he’ll get me everything I need to know.
“This way please,” I say, my tone clipped.
Vanessa frowns but keeps a firm smile on her face. I direct her to where my children have stopped playing, watching herlike she’s made of gold. Vanessa shakes my mother’s hand, then waves at Anton and Livia while introducing herself. Without prompt, she settles down on her knees at their level.
“Hi, I’m Vanessa. I was told you two are very busy people with a very busy schedule and you need a manager. Is that right?”
Anton laughs and blushes before toying with his hands and getting all goofy and cute as he can be. He also inherited his mother’s blonde hair and is due for a haircut, passing his little hands over the locks that fall over his eyes. The rest of his face is all me, though I barely recognise the smile he wears. I haven’t seen my matching one in the mirror for years.
In no time, he has Vanessa wrapped around his finger, showing her his favourite cars. She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles.
Before I know what’s happening, Livia drags her to the sofa with her favourite book in hand, asking for a story. The woman obliges with a smile, not an ounce of strain on her youthful face.
“I think she’ll do fine,” my mother whispers as she comes to stand by my side. I barely registered that she moved, my eyes focused on the scene in front of me. It’s so mundane, so simple. In another life, it’s a scene I could have walked in on when coming home from work. I press a hand to my chest as if that will alleviate the strain I feel where the damning organ pumping blood through my body is.
I haven’t longed for things I cannot have in a very long time. I don’t like it.
“Five minutes with them isn’t enough to make assumptions, mamma,” I say, keeping my eyes trained on the stranger who talks to my kids with an ease I’ve rarely witnessed. Even their own mother couldn’t muster enough energy to keep that up for more than an hour at a time.
“Some assumptions are right from the start,fligliolu.”
If I had paid attention to more than her words, I’d have noticed she wasn’t talking about Vanessa being my nanny. But I wasn’t. All of my attention had already been stolen away.
SIX
GIVE ME ATTITUDE, I LIKE IT
The next hour flies by.
Vanessa plays and reads to Anton and Livia under my mother’s supervision. I take a shower to wash away my gloomy mood. It doesn’t work.