At six o’clock on Wednesday evening, Kristina Johnson phoned her mother.
“Mom, I don’t know what to do. Ms. Carter didn’t come home last night and she doesn’t answer her cell phone. I’m still here alone with the baby.”
“For heaven’s sake, that’s crazy. Today is your day off. Who does that woman think she is?”
“She stayed out one night last week, but she was home in the morning. She’s never been out of contact this long. And I’m worried about Sally. She’s wheezing a little.” Kristina looked down at Sally, who sat quietly on the carpet with a doll in her lap.
“Aren’t you keeping her away from that dog?”
“I try to but Sally loves the dog and he loves her. But Labs shed, and the doctor warned her mother that Sally is allergic to animals.”
“Renée Carter shouldn’t have a pet when she knows it will make her child sick. She’s some kind of mother, let me tell you.”
A tired Kristina could visualize her mother warming up to tell her that being a nanny was hard, hard work, and that she should have gone on to get a degree in nursing. Then she wouldn’t be at the mercy of one of these spoiled rich women who only have a child so that they can take it to Central Park occasionally and have the photographer from Page Six of the New York Post snap their picture together.
Kristina stopped the flow before it began. “Mom, I’m really just calling to say I’m obviously not coming home tonight. The one thing you have to admit is that Ms. Carter is paying me double my salary because I’ve been here all week. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”
“Have you tried to reach any of her friends?”
Kristina hesitated. “I called two of them I know she sees all the time.”
“What did they say?”
“One of them laughed and said, ‘That’s Renée. She must have some new guy on the hook.’ The other one just said that she had no idea where she was.”
“Well there’s nothing you can do except wait it out, I guess. When she left last night do you know who she was meeting?”
“No, but she was in a great mood.”
“All right, but I want you to think about giving up that job. And something else, keep a close watch on that baby. If she’s wheezing, get the vaporizer on. And if she gets bad, don’t take any chances. Call the doctor. Do you have the doctor’s number?”
“Yes. Dr. Farrell called a couple of times checking on Sally. Every time she does, she gives me her cell phone number again.”
“All right. I guess you can’t do anything more for now. But if that woman doesn’t come back tomorrow maybe you’ll have to call the police.”
“I’m sure she’ll be back. I’ll talk to you, Mom.”
With a sigh, Kristina replaced the phone on the cradle. She had called from Sally’s bedroom, the one place where she had managed to keep the dog from entering. It was large and furnished in white wicker. The carpet was a pink and white design. The walls were fancifully painted with nursery figures. The windows were framed in pink and white eyelet draperies. A row of shelves opposite the crib was filled with toys and children’s books. When Kristina saw the room for the first time she had complimented Renée Carter on it. Her response had been, “It should be nice. The decorator charged me a fortune.”
Sally had barely eaten any dinner. She had begun to play with her dolls but now, to Kristina’s concern, she wandered over to her crib, pulled her security blanket from it, and lay down on the floor.
She is getting sick again, Kristina thought. I’ll turn on the vaporizer and I’ll sleep on the sofa bed in here with her. If she isn’t better in the morning, whether or not her mother is back, I’m going to call Dr. Farrell. I’m sure Ms. Carter will be furious. I’ll have to admit to the doctor that she isn’t here but I don’t care.
Kristina walked across the room, bent down, and picked up the sleepy baby. “You poor kid,” she said. “You certainly got one bum break when you were born to that miserable woman.”