The Doctor's Fake NannyBy: Tiana Cole
“It’s fine. I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this.”
“I don’t know, it just feels strange.”
“It feels strange? What does that mean?”
“It just feels, well, it feels wrong. It isn’t you, Kayla. I’ve never known you to do a deceitful thing, not once since the first time I met you.
That’s not what we’re about, girl. What about all of those talks we’ve had about doing good things? That’s why we work with kids, for Christ’s sake. How are you going to tell me that you spend your days teaching children what it means to do right and what it means to do wrong and then you’re going to do something like this?”
“It just doesn’t seem right, that’s all. It just doesn’t seem right.”
“I know. It’s complicated, alright?”
The problem was that she was right. She was right and we both knew it. I’ve never been the sort of person to be deceitful, to seek revenge.
I’ve never really wanted anything more than to make a difference. Yvonne was right about that much. That’s why I started working with kids. That’s why I loved working with the kindergarteners.They were so strange and funny and hopeful. You couldn’t fake things like that and they didn’t last for all that long.
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to foster that kind of thing in people, not bring them down. The thing is, not everything is as easy as the right and wrong as seen through a five year old’s eyes.
Things change. When you lose something, when you lose the thing that matters more to you than anything in the world, things change. Suddenly it wasn’t so black and white anymore.
“Yep, I’m here. You still going to be there for me if I do this? Even if you don’t like it?”
“Girl, you know I will. Always, through thick and thin, right?”
God, I’m lucky to have a friend like Yvonne. She’s never lied to me and she wasn’t lying to me then. She was with me through the whole thing, even when she hated it. Which was a lot. I doubt that plots like mine often worked out quite as planned. I knew mine didn’t. For starters, I had no idea how much of my life it would take up. It all started with an interview. Something as simple and mundane as that.
No answer. Go figure. That was so like a rich person, to assume that they were important enough to blow a person off even after agreeing on an appointment.
No, that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t all rich people, it was this rich person. Couldn’t blame everyone for the sins of one bad apple. And there was always the possibility that he didn’t hear me. I guess there was always that, although I was leaning more towards the “he’s an asshole” line of thought. That seemed to fit a little better to me.
I rang the bell again, insistently, three times in rapid succession. It was terribly rude, which wasn’t like me at all, but I was feeling especially impatient. I had a reason to be. I had waited long enough.
I thought about my sister, Nikki, while standing there on this guy’s doorstep, being ignored. It amazed me how a memory could be just as jarring as a ghost.Out of nowhere she would just pop in my head and everything I was doing would feel fake, like the pretense of a life that didn’t really exist.
She had died three months ago and sometimes I still picked up my phone to call her. It wouldn’t be till halfway through dialing that I would remember she wasn’t going to answer.
Three months and I would still think I saw her almost every day. You try and wrap your head around the idea that your little sister isn’t ever coming back, that you won’t get to throw her a bachelorette party or hold her first kid. Three months of that and I had finally decided to pull myself out of my ghost town and go to this interview, and he couldn’t be bothered to come to the door. So yes, I was a little impatient.
“Fuck this,” I muttered under my breath. If he wasn’t going to be polite, then what the hell? Maybe I wouldn’t be either. I rang the bell once more for good measure and then tried the door.
I was more than a little bit surprised, but it opened easily.Sure, leave your door open when you live in a million-dollar house. That sounded like a good idea. But open was open and so I let myself in quietly, looking around in awe that I didn’t want to feel but couldn’t help.
I had to admit, this place was nice. Super nice. I had never been in a place even close to this upscale before and it was a little bit difficult not to be intimidated. There was the mess, though.The mess helped. Yes, there was light marble and deep dark wood everywhere, tall ceilings and impossibly long banisters, but there was also stuff everywhere.