The Sitter (5 page)

10

C
hip carried Heather on his shoulders. She held on to his ears and bounced as he walked.

Brandon hung behind his father, as if trying to hide. He was a pale, slight boy, small for four, with serious, dark eyes, wild, curly, black hair that I immediately wanted to run my hand through, and a pointed, elfish nose.

“Hi, guys!” I said.

They both ignored me.

“This is Ellie, your new nanny,” Abby told them.

Chip set Heather down on the floor in front of me. She was wearing a bright yellow sundress over her diaper. She had fine, blond hair, a bright red butterfly barrette pinned at the top of her head. She had a round face and looked exactly like a tiny blond version of Chip.

“Well, you’re a real cutie! You and I are going to have a lot of fun all summer,” I said. I started to pick her up—and she burst into tears.

Bad start.

Abby took the sobbing baby from me and held her. “Heather, what’s wrong?”

Chip laughed. “Ellie, you’re hired. You have a way with kids!”

“Stop it, Chip,” Abby snapped. “You’re not funny.” She turned to me. “You have to ignore his sense of humor. Everyone else does.”

Chip picked up his drink and finished it—ice cubes, too.

Heather instantly stopped crying. She put her finger in her mother’s nose and laughed.

“Heather is a little shy with new people,” Abby explained to me. “After a few days, she’ll be poking her finger in your nose, too.”

We both laughed.

All the while, Brandon stared at us blankly. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his baggy shorts. He kept biting the inside of his mouth.

It didn’t take a genius to tell that the poor kid was miserable.

What does that to a four-year-old kid? What happened to Brandon Harper?

“Hi, Brandon. I’m Ellie,” I said, bending down to be closer to him. “Do you like to go to the beach?”

Nothing.

I took his hand. It was ice cold. “Brandon, you know, where I come from—in Wisconsin—there are no ocean beaches. Do you believe that? No ocean at all. So I can’t wait to go to the beach. I want to spend hours and hours at the ocean. After I move in here, do you think you could take me to the beach and show me how to play there?”

He just stared at me with those joyless eyes. Ancient eyes on a little boy’s face.

Did it creep me out? Yes. But at least this job would be a challenge. It wouldn’t be a boring baby-sitting job. Maybe I’d be the one to get through to this troubled boy.

Yes. Think on the bright side for once, Ellie. The job will be a
challenge
. This was my new, positive personality at work. After so many years of aimlessness and unhappiness, I was going to change my attitude—and change my life.

“You and I are going to be good friends,” I told Brandon, letting go of his cold hand.

“Brandon will
love
to show you the beach,” Abby said. “He likes to build big castles and forts there.”

“Me build, too,” Heather chimed in.

“Oh, I know what would be good,” Abby said. “Brandon, take Ellie up to your room and show her the new present your dad brought you.”

“A present?” I said. “I’d love to see it, Brandon.”

He shrugged and jammed his hands back in his pockets.

“Go ahead,” Chip said, giving the boy a gentle shove. “Show Ellie what I brought you. Go!” He didn’t hide his impatience.

Brandon stared at me.

“I’d love to see your room,” I said.

Finally, he turned and started walking to the stairs. I glimpsed Abby and Chip nodding to each other, pleased that their son was cooperating.

Score one for me.

I followed Brandon up the stairs. The wooden steps were steep and slippery, highly polished. He used the banister to pull himself up.

The long hall at the top had several doorways to the left. I peered over the balcony and saw Chip and Abby conferring, Abby talking in a hushed tone, Chip nodding his head.

I guessed they were deciding about me.

Brandon’s room was the second door. It was bright and spacious, and the white rug on the floor was cluttered with action figures, games, picture books, wooden puzzles, and a lot of toys I didn’t recognize.

“Wow! What an awesome room!” I said. “I love that horse poster over your bed, Brandon. Do you like horses?”

No response.

He disappeared into the closet. I heard a
cheep cheep
. He came out cradling a tiny yellow baby chick in his hands. He carried it over to me and held it up so I could see it.

“How adorable,” I said. “A baby chick. Where do you keep it? In a cage?”

He nodded.

“Can I pet it?” I reached out a finger and stroked the chick’s fuzzy back. “So soft.”

Gauzy white curtains fluttered at the half-open window. I crossed the room. “Brandon, can you see the ocean from your window?”

Nothing. Nada.

I stepped up to the window and pushed the curtains aside. “Wow! Amazing!”

The window faced the back of the house. I could see a small, sandy yard, a sloping dune with a row of pine trees at the top. Half-hidden behind the trees was a small, shingled structure. A storage shed. Or maybe a guest house.

And then, beyond the little house, another dune. And then, a wide, sandy beach—deserted as far as I could see—and the tossing blue ocean.

“Brandon, you can see the ocean from your room. It’s gorgeous! And you can hear it. What a wonderful sound. And you can
smell
it! Isn’t that exciting? To live so close to the ocean? Isn’t that awesome?”

No reply, of course.

I turned and took a few steps back to where he was standing in the center of the room. “Brandon? Is something wrong? Why do you have that weird look on your face?”

Then I lowered my gaze.

And stared at the wet, yellow fuzz in Brandon’s fist.

“You—you squeezed it—”

Slowly, Brandon uncurled his fingers. The chick’s lifeless head flopped over the side of his hand, like the limp finger of a glove. The chick’s little body was a pulpy, yellow mess.

“You squeezed too hard, Brandon.” My voice escaped in a choked whisper. “Didn’t you realize? You squeezed it too hard.”

His face remained blank. His intense eyes locked on mine. And then, slowly, very slowly, he lowered his gaze. And stared at the mangled chick.

Then he tilted his head back and started to laugh.

11

H
ow can I describe what it felt like to see Ellie after all this time?

How can I describe the shock? The disbelief that she could return to my life this way?

Of course, I had to hide my feelings. And I did a good job of it. I pulled down a mask and kept it in place.

But behind the mask, I was seething, churning.

How could this happen?

It’s as if my thoughts had come true.

I’ve been thinking about her a lot. Thinking about how much I hate her. Thinking about what she did to me.

No, I haven’t been able to lose the anger. I’ve carried it with me all these years. I’ve spent my life—my whole damn life—angry and unhappy, thanks to that bitch. That skinny, lying bitch.

She’s ruined so much of my life. Ruined so many nights. Ruined so many years.

And there she was, walking into the house.

Stepping right out of my nightmares and back into my life.

Sitting in my living room in that expensive suit, so prim and pretty, as if I don’t know what she’s really like.

There she was, sitting in my living room, talking to my kids. So eager. So fucking eager.

Looking right at me. Smiling at me.

Looking right into the face of the person who hates her the most in the world.

Doesn’t she even remember me?

That’s what pissed me off more than anything. That’s what made me want to strangle her in front of everyone.

Has she forgotten?

Has she?

Has she forgotten what she did to me? How she
killed
me?

Well, I haven’t forgotten.

I acted so calm, so polite, so friendly to her.

And, of course, I had to hire her.

Yes, I kept the mask in place. I kept myself hidden from view.

How could she not know me?

How could she not remember?

I was so nice. “Yes, Ellie, you have the job. Yes, Ellie, please start as soon as you can. Yes, Ellie. Yes.”

And all the time, questions kept going through my head.

Could I fuck her up really bad?

Could I kill her?

Could I?

I might be angry enough.

I just might.

Part Two

12

H
ey, Teresa. I just finished unpacking. My room is small, but it’s really nice.”

“Which side of the house are you on? Can you see the ocean?”

“It is
so
not to be believed. I’m upstairs, right? I can see over the little guest house to the beach. It’s an incredible view. And it smells so good. I feel like I’m on a boat.”

“I’m so jealous. They had more cutbacks at the office. Do you believe it—now I’m reporting to two people. I’ve got like double the work. And no raise or anything.”

“You should quit and come out here and live on the beach, Teresa.”

“Oh, sure. And what about my career?”

“Hey, sorry. I was just joking.”

“Ha. So was I. My career is a joke. I’m going nowhere fast.”

“Hey, don’t sound so down. This is our party summer, remember? When are you coming out?”

“I’ll be out this weekend, Ellie. Maybe you can give me a tour of the fabulous beach house. What are you doing today?”

“First thing I’ve got to do is go shopping. I don’t have a thing. I don’t even own a bathing suit.”

“Where are you going to shop? Are they letting you drive their car?”

“They lent me my own—do you believe it? It’s a little white Taurus, very cute. It’s for me to use and to drive the kids around in.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot there were kids involved. How’s it going?”

“Well, you know. I just got here yesterday. The little girl is adorable, but very demanding. I guess all two-year-olds are. The little boy is . . . well, weird. He just stares at me with this blank look on his face. He never talks.”

“Weird is right. Listen, go into Easthampton. There’s a shop called Scoop. You’ll love it. Great bathing suits. Everything you need to be a Hamptons person.”

“Teresa, I’m laughing. Do I want to be a Hamptons person?”

“Of course. Listen to me. Scoop. They’ve got the best jeans there. You know. Seven. The ones that make any woman’s booty look like J. Lo’s. Great tops, too. Lots of tie-dyed stuff. Everyone is tie-dyed this summer. And they have silver chain belts to go with your jeans.”

“Where would I be without you? But I’m not going that way. I have to go to Southampton and pick up some things for Abby.”

“She’s the wife? How is she? Nice?”

“Yes. She’s been wonderful to me. She told me there’s a department store there. It’s called . . . uh . . . I wrote it down. . . . Hildreth’s. She said I could probably buy a cat bed there.”

“A cat bed? They won’t give you a
real
bed?”

“Ha ha. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Teresa. I need a favor.”

“And it involves a cat bed?”

“Well . . . yeah. The Harpers are letting me bring my old cat, Lucky, out here. Remember? I told you about Lucky?”

“Only every time I talk to you.”

“I miss him
so much
. Mom sent him to my cousin Marsha in Connecticut. If Marsha brings Lucky to you in the city in a week or so, can you bring him out to me?”

“Does he bite?”

“No, of course he doesn’t bite. He’s a sweet old cat. You’ll love him to death.”

“Well, sure. No problem. Give your cousin my address. Tell her just to call first. Then drop him off after work.”

“Cool. Thanks, Teresa. You’re terrific. You know, I’m also going into Southampton for another reason. I’m going to change my cell-phone number.”

“Oh, wow. Clay again?”

“You guessed it. He called me twice last night. He’s really starting to piss me off. Listen to this. He called my mother and got my address out here.”

“Oh, good. Thanks, Mom.”

“Well, it’s not her fault. She doesn’t know what’s going on. But I—”

“Why did you go out with Clay in the first place, Ellie? Pardon me for asking, but have you
always
had such rotten taste in men? I mean,
hel-lo.
He’s a fucking tax accountant.”

“You want to know the
real
reason? This is the honest truth, Teresa. Why I went out with Clay. He can juggle.”

“Excuse me?”

“He can juggle. He’s a tax accountant who can juggle. Don’t you see?”

“No.”

“He had something special. He wasn’t ordinary. At least, that’s what I thought. He . . . I don’t know how to say it. He had another dimension.”

“A juggling dimension?”

“Will you give me a break? You’re so not funny. It’s what I always wanted, Teresa. Instead of just being me. ‘There’s Ellie. What you see is what you get.’ My sister, Wendy, was always off being a superstar. And there I was, just being me. I always wanted another dimension, too. I wanted to be
me
who also did something else, something surprising, something terrific.”

“Wow. This is getting heavy. It still doesn’t explain Clay.”

“He was so much fun when we first started going together. And he was cute. Really. Like a big teddy bear. But now—”

“Bears can be dangerous, Ellie. Don’t you watch the Discovery Channel?”

“Well, I’m going to change my number in town. And—”

“And if he follows you to the Hamptons, you’ve got to tell the police.”

“I made it really clear to him on the phone last night. I really don’t think he’ll follow me out here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Definitely. I’m sure,” I said. And I wondered if I sounded as phony on her end of the line as I did on my own.

“You just have to remember that the bay is to the north and the ocean is south. There’s only one main highway that cuts through—twenty-seven. So you can’t really get lost. If you hit water, turn around, and you’ll end up back on twenty-seven.”

I knew Abby meant to be helpful, but the instructions didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. I guess I must have looked confused, because she put her hand on my shoulder and said, “I’m really sorry, Ellie. I wish I could go with you and show you around. But I have to drop the kids off and take the Porsche in to be serviced and—”

“No problem,” I said, waving the map. “As long as I’ve got this, I’ll be fine. I’m a good map reader. Really. When my family went on long car trips, I was always the navigator.”

I climbed into the white Taurus. Mmmm. It still had its new-car smell. I hadn’t driven a car even once in the year I’d lived in the city, and it felt good to be behind the wheel again.

And I was very pleased when, ten minutes later, I was rolling the car through Main Street in Southampton, with its small shops and restaurants on both sides.

I’d been here two Sundays ago for my thrilling interview at Country Modes. But I hadn’t had time to look around.

This must be a movie set for a chic little beach town, I thought. If I look behind the stores, I’ll see that it’s all fake fronts.

I passed a Saks Fifth Avenue, across the street from a couple of antiques stores. The sidewalks were crowded with shoppers and casual strollers. I passed a bookstore, a fudge store, several jewelry stores. I wondered, do people really come out to the beach and go jewelry shopping?

I pulled into a parking spot in front of an old-fashioned-looking hardware store. There were black Mercedes parked on both sides of me. Glancing down the row of cars, I saw Mercedes, Jaguars, a few Range Rovers, lots of other expensive SUVs.

Hildreth’s Department Store stood a few stores down from the hardware store. Abby told me it was maybe the oldest department store in the country, from like the 1800s. English people started settling Southampton in the 1690s. I guess they couldn’t resist the beautiful beaches, either.

The little department store looked friendly and inviting, the way I’d pictured old-fashioned shops. I stopped to look into the big display windows in front. Talk about a time warp—canopy beds and bolts of cloth and brightly patterned curtains.

People strolled by in shorts and T-shirts and sandals. A young man walking a gray standard poodle stopped to talk to two girls wearing Wesleyan sweatshirts. The girls fawned over the dog and pretty much ignored the guy.

It was a warm day for the beginning of June. But suddenly, I felt a chill. The back of my neck prickled.

I spun around. Why did I feel that someone was watching me?

Shielding my eyes from the sun with one hand, I glanced up and down the street. Such a strange feeling. It came over me so quickly, like a warning.

But no one seemed to be paying any attention to me.

I climbed the wooden steps and pulled open the windowed front door. A bell rang above the door.

I pushed through the kitchen housewares department jammed with people outfitting their summer homes. I wandered toward the back of the store. Again, the hairs on the back of my neck tingled.

That feeling again.

I spun around, my eyes surveying the crowd of shoppers. No one watching me.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. Ellie, what is your problem?

I found the linens department near the back.

Abby had ordered some sheets and pillowcases over the phone and wanted me to pick them up. I went to the register at the back desk and looked around for someone to help me.

In the aisle across from me, a platinum blond woman in black tights and a silvery sweater-top—maybe the skinniest woman I’d ever seen!—held up an orange-and-yellow throw pillow. “Do you have one that isn’t stained?” she was calling across the store. “Do you have two that aren’t stained?”

I sighed and leaned against the counter. This could be a long morning. I saw dozens of shoppers and only two salesgirls.

“Oh!” I jumped as a hard, cold hand grabbed my wrist.

“Hello. I’ve been looking for you.”