I don’t remember much from the funeral except the feeling of Collette and Pauline on either side of me, holding me up.
Afterward, they fold me into the back of the car again, and before I know it we are returning to West Seventy-eighth Street, the women helping me up the elevator and bringing me to one of the guest rooms, where Collette says I can stay for as long as I’d like.
I watch Collette. The room darkens as she pulls the curtains and moves past my bed. I raise my head again, but exhaustion washes over me. My eyes are heavy and all I want to do is sleep. Shut everything out. Lie here and sleep and no longer feel the pain, even if that means staying in the home of the man who might be responsible for my grief.
“Stay here for as long as you need to, sweet girl,” Collette says before quietly stepping out of the room. Collette is on my side, she’s not going to hurt me. For now, we will help each other through our terrible ordeals.
I pull the covers over my head, willing sleep to come.
I think I stay there for days, although I can’t be sure. Days and nights run together and it’s hard to keep track, especially when the curtains are always closed. Collette and Pauline bring me food, and occasionally, they manage to get me to eat a few bites. Just like at my apartment, they encourage me to shower. They comb my hair, and Collette brings me a new lip balm. It’s vanilla-scented, she says. One of Patty’s favorites.
Other times, I ask them to leave. I tell them they don’t need to hover, that I can do it myself. But then I go back to sleep, and when I wake, Collette is there again, checking on me from the doorway. She blows me a kiss.
I wait for Mr. Bird and Stephen to return from their business trip. Collette says they’ve been gone a few days.
What convenient timing, I think, although I’m still not sure how I’m going to be able to face them when they appear.
A few days later, I’m eating part of a sandwich Pauline has brought me, and Collette considers this a success. “Progress,” she says. “You’re gaining your strength.” She coaxes me out of the guest room to watch a movie in the living room. I sit on the couch, a fog clouding my head as the movie plays. I have no idea what it’s about, can barely pay attention to the words let alone the story line, but at least I’m sitting up. I’m no longer in the fetal position.
I’m wearing leggings and a shirt, although I don’t recognize them as mine since I haven’t brought a stitch of clothing with me, not even a toothbrush. But apparently that’s all been taken care of. Collette has bought me brand-new everything, from shampoo and deodorant to new underwear. But these clothes look like they’ve come straight from her closet.
I’m no longer their employee but someone they must take care of—they insist upon it. Often, I hear Collette speaking to Patty. She’ll ask her which movie she wants to watch next. We sit through Cinderella and Pinocchio and The Lion King. Freddie brings us tea and hot chocolate in that same rainbow mug. Pauline moves around us quietly, lightly dusting or wiping at countertops before checking to make sure I’m all right.
Another day passes and I’m thinking the men must be coming home soon—they can’t stay away forever. What will I say to them? Will I be able to confront them? They’ll deny everything, I’m sure. They’ll tell me I’m making it all up in my head.
I look around, my throat choked with tears. Fatigue washes over me again, followed by that now-familiar helpless feeling.
I’m wearing Collette’s clothes. I’m staying with her around the clock. She’s loving that I’m with her.
Despite everything—what I know, what Jonathan warned me about—I’m doing exactly what she wants. What she wanted with the last nanny too.
Without realizing it, I’ve moved in with the Birds.