She turned to the stranger/babysitter. “And you are . . . ”
“Janine.” For a moment, it seemed she would offer no more. She lifted a graham cracker from a pile and bit off half. Crumbs sprayed from her mouth as she added, “Rose is my aunt.”
“Nanny had to go home,” Savannah repeated. She turned to one of the Bitty Twins at her side and laid her hand on the doll’s belly. The competence of Savannah’s large hand belied her age. “Cause of her head. Can we wash the Bitties?”
“Soon, Savannah.”
What had happened to Peter? Apparently, Nanny Rose had one of her excruciating migraines. Peter was usually the parent who came home when needed. His office was closer to the house, and his days were filled with interoffice memos and ticked-off clients, not critical medical decisions. His work was not unimportant, just less important than Caroline believed her own work to be, though he never let her forget that his work paid massively more than hers did. Peter’s money bought all their luxuries. Organic cherries! Salmon so wild it might leap from their grill! Bitty Twins! Peter underwrote her work, as he reminded her too often lately. Nevertheless, when emergencies arose, he could get home far more quickly than Caroline.
“Daddy got stuck,” Savannah said. “Can I sit in your lap?”
Caroline put down her briefcase and lowered herself onto the couch. After pulling Savannah onto her lap, she looked to Janine for further illumination. Savannah leaned into Caroline’s chest. Without Nanny, Savannah had been given no postdinner bath, or a proper dinner, for that matter. The scent of sour child drifted up from Savannah.
“I took the train and then a cab. A long cab ride.” Janine held outher hand as though the amount matching her transportation outlay must certainly be waiting in Caroline’s pocket. “Mr. Fitzgerald said he’d pay from the time I left my house until you got here. So, that’s four hours. So, that’s eighty dollars. Plus, you need to get me home and then pay me for that time. So, that will be, like, a hundred dollars or maybe more.”
Caroline’s head pounded.
“Mommy, can I have something real to eat?”
“Will you drive me or are you going to call a cab? What time does the train leave?”
“Can the Bitty Twins come in the bath now?”
“Mr. Fitzgerald said someone would drive if it got dark. My mother doesn’t like me out after dark alone.”
“Did you fix anyone today?”
“Could you drive me all the way home? That would be easier.”
Caroline’s mouth remained closed as though someone had glued it shut. She wanted to be lying in a warm bath, still as a corpse, with a warm washcloth draped over her eyes.
The front door opened. Savannah leapt off her lap and ran into Peter’s arms. He knelt and wrapped his arms around her, his face lit with affection. Peter didn’t mind if Savannah smelled sour or asked him a million questions.
“I’ll drive you,” she told Janine.
CHAPTER 9
Caroline
Caroline knew she took too long getting home from dropping off Janine, and she certainly shouldn’t have stopped for coffee, but it was that or fall asleep on the ride home from Boston. Now she’d have to take an Ambien to counteract the caffeine.
She sipped the coffee each time she hit a light, and every light was welcome. More than anything, Caroline missed being able to move on her own time. Her research would approach a tantalizing moment, where clues led to roads she was certain could break hypotheses wide open, and still she’d have to leave for home. Before Savannah, there was never a problem in digging in, feeling hours slide by like seconds as her notes piled up.
Peter was never a problem previously. He also found that same active joy in breaking the back of problems at work, but now he also found that joy with Savannah.
She pulled into their driveway.
“Caroline?” Peter stood in the doorway. Not glowering, but nowhere near smiling.
“How was she?”
“Janine.” For a moment, it seemed she would offer no more. She lifted a graham cracker from a pile and bit off half. Crumbs sprayed from her mouth as she added, “Rose is my aunt.”
“Nanny had to go home,” Savannah repeated. She turned to one of the Bitty Twins at her side and laid her hand on the doll’s belly. The competence of Savannah’s large hand belied her age. “Cause of her head. Can we wash the Bitties?”
“Soon, Savannah.”
What had happened to Peter? Apparently, Nanny Rose had one of her excruciating migraines. Peter was usually the parent who came home when needed. His office was closer to the house, and his days were filled with interoffice memos and ticked-off clients, not critical medical decisions. His work was not unimportant, just less important than Caroline believed her own work to be, though he never let her forget that his work paid massively more than hers did. Peter’s money bought all their luxuries. Organic cherries! Salmon so wild it might leap from their grill! Bitty Twins! Peter underwrote her work, as he reminded her too often lately. Nevertheless, when emergencies arose, he could get home far more quickly than Caroline.
“Daddy got stuck,” Savannah said. “Can I sit in your lap?”
Caroline put down her briefcase and lowered herself onto the couch. After pulling Savannah onto her lap, she looked to Janine for further illumination. Savannah leaned into Caroline’s chest. Without Nanny, Savannah had been given no postdinner bath, or a proper dinner, for that matter. The scent of sour child drifted up from Savannah.
“I took the train and then a cab. A long cab ride.” Janine held outher hand as though the amount matching her transportation outlay must certainly be waiting in Caroline’s pocket. “Mr. Fitzgerald said he’d pay from the time I left my house until you got here. So, that’s four hours. So, that’s eighty dollars. Plus, you need to get me home and then pay me for that time. So, that will be, like, a hundred dollars or maybe more.”
Caroline’s head pounded.
“Mommy, can I have something real to eat?”
“Will you drive me or are you going to call a cab? What time does the train leave?”
“Can the Bitty Twins come in the bath now?”
“Mr. Fitzgerald said someone would drive if it got dark. My mother doesn’t like me out after dark alone.”
“Did you fix anyone today?”
“Could you drive me all the way home? That would be easier.”
Caroline’s mouth remained closed as though someone had glued it shut. She wanted to be lying in a warm bath, still as a corpse, with a warm washcloth draped over her eyes.
The front door opened. Savannah leapt off her lap and ran into Peter’s arms. He knelt and wrapped his arms around her, his face lit with affection. Peter didn’t mind if Savannah smelled sour or asked him a million questions.
“I’ll drive you,” she told Janine.
CHAPTER 9
Caroline
Caroline knew she took too long getting home from dropping off Janine, and she certainly shouldn’t have stopped for coffee, but it was that or fall asleep on the ride home from Boston. Now she’d have to take an Ambien to counteract the caffeine.
She sipped the coffee each time she hit a light, and every light was welcome. More than anything, Caroline missed being able to move on her own time. Her research would approach a tantalizing moment, where clues led to roads she was certain could break hypotheses wide open, and still she’d have to leave for home. Before Savannah, there was never a problem in digging in, feeling hours slide by like seconds as her notes piled up.
Peter was never a problem previously. He also found that same active joy in breaking the back of problems at work, but now he also found that joy with Savannah.
She pulled into their driveway.
“Caroline?” Peter stood in the doorway. Not glowering, but nowhere near smiling.
“How was she?”
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