“Then sit down and take a load off. Now, who wants lemonade?”
Between the five of us, we drained the pitcher of lemonade Natasha had made. There was very little to put up in terms of leftovers, and my kids had stuffed themselves full. Natasha settled with Joshua on the couch and read the last five pages of his required reading to him, then it was time for the kids to get ready for bed. I washed up the boys while she took care of Clara, then we bedded them down and kissed them goodnight.
The boys even wanted to see Natasha before they went to bed.
She came down the stairs with her hips swaying and her hair brushing her shoulders. I popped open a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. She finally took that damn apron off and hung it up in the pantry, then went to gather her things that were slung in in the corner.
But I wanted to know how her first day went.
I wanted to know what her secret was.
“Care for a glass of wine?” I asked.
“I really shouldn’t. I don’t hold my alcohol well, so you’d be stuck with me until that glass of wine worked its way through my system,” Natasha said.
“If you get in deep, there are plenty of guest rooms for you to sleep in here,” I said.
“I really should be getting home. I’ve got this new apartment and my friend told me my furniture was delivered. I’m sure the place is a wreck if she was in charge of things.”
“Just one glass. I want to hear about how you’ve taken my wild children and turned them into decent human beings.”
She giggled and shook her head and the sound was delightful. I poured her a glass and held it out for her, hoping she would take it. I wasn’t ready to relinquish her just yet. I wanted to know more about her day. How my kids had been and the things she changed and the tactics she used to whip them into shape.
I also wanted to know more about her. About her time in Africa and what she planned on doing with the rest of her life.
Because I had a hard time imagining she would want to be a nanny for the duration of her career.
“I’m sure one won’t hurt then,” she said.
Five
Natasha
“So you made the decision to pull Clara out of full-day preschool,” Carter said.
“I did. I dropped her off and I could see how anxious she was, so I talked to her teacher about it. She told me her preschool payment debits automatically from an account, so make sure that payment lowers the next time it comes out,” I said.
“Anxious? What do you mean?” he asked.
“It was subtle, but it was there. I don’t think Clara was adjusting well to preschool, and that’s normal. As a three-year old, that shouldn’t be expected of her. I talked with her teacher and then told Clara I’d be back during lunch to pick her up and her eyes lit up. And she wasn’t overtired or anything when I got her, so I think this schedule will stick a little better.”
“Was she acting up in school or something?” he asked.
“Not at all. But her teachers did say she plays by herself a lot, which doesn’t fit her personality. Full-time days in that type of environment aren’t normal for a kid her age. She’s still in a stage where she can be easily overwhelmed by things going on around her. Sights. Sounds. Smells. The presence of people. That wanes with age, but she isn’t there yet.”
“You think it’s smart for her to be in school at all then?”
“For her? Yes. Her teachers said she was much more social today when I went to pick her up at lunch time. She needs friends and she needs to learn how to interact with them. And then she needs to come home, take a nap, and decompress from being around so many people for so long.”
“Sounds almost like an introvert,” he said.
“And Clara very well might be one. But for now, this schedule works. I’ll keep an eye on it to make sure it continues to work, and if something happens I’ll toggle it again. If going everyday is too much, I’ll take her three times a week. We’ll find something that works for the little person she is.”
“What about the boys? How did they do today?”
“They were good. Very tired after school. I laid them down on the couch for about an hour.”
“Tired?” he asked. “They usually come home bouncing off the walls.”