Kamara knew that she was no longer breathing as she should. “Oh. I don’t know,” she said.
“Think about it,” Tracy said, before she turned to Josh and told him she had to get back to work.
“Time for your spinach, Josh,” Kamara said, in a voice too loud, and went upstairs, wishing she had said something bolder, wishing Tracy would come up again.
. . .
Neil had only just begun letting Josh have chocolate sprinkles, after a new book claimed his sugar-free sweetener was carcinogenic, and so Josh was eating his dessert of organic frozen yogurt dotted with chocolate sprinkles when the garage door opened. Neil was wearing a sleek dark suit. He placed his leather bag down on the counter, said hi to Kamara, and then swooped down on Josh. “Hello, bud!”
“Hi, Daddy.” Josh kissed him and laughed when Neil nuzzled his neck.
“How did your reading practice with Kamara go?”
“Good.”
“Are you nervous, bud? You’ll do great, I bet you’ll win. But it doesn’t matter if you don’t because you’re still a winner for Daddy. Are you all set for Zany Brainy? It should be fun. Chum the Cheeseball’s first visit!”
“Yes.” Josh pushed his plate aside and started to look through his schoolbag.
“I’ll look at your school stuff later,” Neil said.
“I can’t find my shoelaces. I took them out in the playground.” Josh brought out a piece of paper from his bag. His dirt-encrusted shoelaces were tangled around it and he pulled the laces apart. “Oh, look! Remember the special family Shabbat cards my class was working on, Dad?”
“Is that it?”
“Yes!” Josh held the crayon-colored paper up, moving it this way and that. In his precociously well-formed hand were the words Kamara, I’m glad we are family. Shabbat shalom.
“I forgot to give it to you last Friday, Kamara. So I’ll have to wait till tomorrow to give it to you, okay?” Josh said, his face solemn.
“Okay, Josh,” Kamara said. She was rinsing off
his plate for the dishwasher.
Neil took the card from Josh. “You know, Josh,” he said, giving the card back, “it’s very sweet of you to give this to Kamara, but Kamara is your nanny and your friend, and this was for family.”
“Miss Leah said I could.”
Neil looked at Kamara, as if seeking support, but Kamara looked away and focused on opening the dishwasher.
“Can we go, Dad?” Josh asked.
“Sure.”
Before they left, Kamara said, “Good luck tomorrow, Josh.”
Kamara watched them drive off in Neil’s Jaguar. Her feet itched to go down the stairs, to knock on Tracy’s door and offer something: coffee, a glass of water, a sandwich, herself. In the bathroom, she patted her newly braided hair, touched up her lipgloss and mascara, then started down the stairs that led to the basement. She stopped many times and went back. Finally she rushed down the stairs and knocked on the door. She knocked again and again.
Tracy opened it. “I thought you’d gone,” she said, her expression distant. She was wearing a faded T-shirt and paint-streaked jeans and her eyebrows were so thick and straight they looked fake.
“No.” Kamara felt awkward. Why haven’t you come up since Monday of last week? Why have your eyes not lit up at seeing me? “Neil and Josh just left for Zany Brainy. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for Josh tomorrow.”
“Yes.” There was something in her demeanor that Kamara feared was an irritated impatience.
“I’m sure Josh will win,” Kamara said.
“He just might.”
Tracy seemed to be moving back, as if about to shut the door.