The Summer Nanny

Hayley smiled gratefully at Mrs. Latimer. “Yes,” she said. “Please.”

As Amy’s mother took two ceramic mugs from a shelf and fetched tea bags from a tin canister, Hayley noted again how warm and homey the kitchen felt with its cheery yellow curtains and a big blue pitcher full of wild flowers on the table. The entire house exuded a sense of warmth and safety.

It was what she wanted. Warmth, safety, stability, beauty. And she might very well get those qualities of life being married to Ethan Whitby. Assuming she ever saw him again. He hadn’t made an appearance since his last brief visit when they had talked about a shared love of history.

“How’s your mom?” Mrs. Latimer asked, as she brought a small pitcher of milk to the counter.

“Okay,” Hayley said. “You know.”

“You’re still not thinking of getting your own place?”

“No,” Hayley said shortly. “I can’t.”

The teakettle whistled, and Mrs. Latimer poured the boiling water into the mugs. “By moving out you wouldn’t be abandoning your mother,” she said, replacing the kettle on the stove. “You might actually be forcing her to stand on her own two feet. Certainly, staying on in that house isn’t doing you any good. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I’ve known you a long time and I’ve seen what I’ve seen.”

“Amy told me about your entering that competition,” Hayley said. Mrs. Latimer would forgive the abrupt change of topic. “I think it’s great.”

“Amy told you about that? Huh. She didn’t seem very interested when I gave her the news.”

Of course she hadn’t, Hayley thought. All Amy could think about these days was Cressida Prior. “Marisa Whitby bought one of your pieces at Wainscoting and Windowseats,” she said.

Leda smiled. “Really? So, do you like working for her?”

“I do. She’s decent, which is more than you can say about a lot of people.”

Mrs. Latimer sighed. “Hayley, try not to be so negative.”

“Sorry,” Hayley said with a bit of a smile.

“No apology necessary. I’ve got to get back to work. Give my love to your mom.” Mug in hand, Mrs. Latimer left the kitchen.

“I don’t know how you can drink hot tea in this weather.” Amy appeared in the kitchen, fanning her face with a drugstore flyer, her curly hair pulled back from her face. “Let’s go out back,” she suggested. “It’ll definitely be cooler than it is in here.”

Amy was right. It was cooler in the yard than it was in the house. Hayley took a seat at the little round table covered with a red-and-white-checked cloth. Amy, still fanning her face, sat across from her. “Cressida never seems to feel the heat,” she said.

“Hmmm,” Hayley replied. She had not come to talk about Cressida Prior. She had come to see Amy with a purpose. She knew from her own experience that if you told someone your intention to act, you felt more bound to go through with that act. It was something to do with the power of a witness. And because Hayley couldn’t shake her discomfort with her plan to seduce Ethan Whitby into a proposal of marriage, telling Amy, who no doubt would disapprove mightily, might just force her to defend her decision and thereby boost her courage and determination.

It was worth a shot, anyway. “I’ve come to an important decision,” she announced.

“About what?” Suddenly Amy smiled. “Are you going to splurge and get those ankle boots you liked the last time we were in DSW?”

Hayley refrained from rolling her eyes. “Something a bit more important than shoes. I’m going to get Ethan Whitby to marry me.” The moment she had spoken the words out loud Hayley realized how totally absurd they sounded.

Amy laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

“No,” Hayley said. “I’m dead serious.”

“You can’t really mean it. It’s . . . It’s insane!”

“I think it’s very sane,” Hayley countered. If unethical, she added silently.

“Why do you want him to marry you? You hardly even know him! You met him what, once? Twice?”

“I want to marry him so that I can get away from the life I’ve been leading for the past twenty-one years,” Hayley said. “So that I can finally be free of the—of the degradation.”

Amy frowned. “Degradation? Isn’t that a bit strong?”

“No,” Hayley said forcefully. “It’s not.”

“How are you even going to do it?” Suddenly a look of horror bloomed on Amy’s face. “Wait a minute. You’re not going to get pregnant, are you?”

“God, no! I’m just going to . . . I’m going to make him like me.”

Amy gave Hayley a look that shamed her. For the first time in their relationship, Hayley felt herself to be the less sharp minded of the two.

“You’re going to have to do a lot more than just make him like you,” Amy said. “You’re going to have to make him fall in love with you, or at least think that he has.”

“How hard could it be?” Hayley replied with a confidence she didn’t at all feel. Maybe telling Amy her intentions hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

Amy sighed. “Okay, let’s say he does find you attractive, and he probably will. Everyone does. Even so he’ll never marry you. He’ll think you’re not good enough for him, in spite of the fact that you’re way more intelligent and kind than most people. Except when you’re trying to trap some poor, unsuspecting guy into marriage! Look, I’m just trying to save you from an embarrassing disaster.”

An embarrassing disaster. Is that what her so-called plan would come to in the end? Hayley sighed. “I don’t care if he doesn’t love me. I want him to marry me. That’s all.”

Amy shook her head. “Who are you? I’ve never heard you talk like this. You sound so . . . so cold.”

“It’s the new me,” Hayley declared. “I’m tired of waiting around for something significant to happen. I’m going to make something significant happen.”

Amy eyed her shrewdly. “Did something bad happen at home?”

“Something bad is always happening at home.”

“You know what I mean,” Amy pressed. “Something really bad. Something other than your father being a jerk and your mother letting him get away with it.”

“No,” Hayley said. “More of the same. But something changed the other night. I thought, Why not take from the world instead of always giving?”

Amy leaned forward. “Hayley, I know you must feel that everything is always against you, but what you’re planning is so unbelievably self-serving. You can’t use people for your own ends.”

“Why not?” Hayley countered. “Plenty of people do just that and they live perfectly happy lives.” Did they? Hayley wondered. Or were they haunted by the fact of their immoral and unethical behavior?

“You’d have to sign a prenup, you know,” Amy pointed out, “and that would be humiliating. I’m sure the Whitbys’ lawyers know all about protecting their clients from gold diggers.”

Stupidly, Hayley hadn’t thought about the possibility that the Whitby family would want to protect its assets from a lowly person like her. But Amy didn’t need to know that. “Look,” Hayley said, “don’t say anything to your mom about this, okay? I mean it. Nothing.”

“All right,” Amy said after a moment. “But you know she’d tell you the same thing I’m telling you. That it’s insane. You’re better than this, Hayley.”

Am I? Hayley asked herself. “How’s it going with Cressida?”

“Fantastic,” Amy said, her expression brightening.

And as Amy launched into a paean in praise of the illustrious head of Prior Ascendancy, Hayley found herself wishing that she had never applied for a position as nanny this summer. She would never have been tempted to pursue such a crazy scheme as conning someone into marriage if she had simply found another job scrubbing food stains off other people’s backsplashes.

* * *

“What is this crap always cluttering up the place?”

“This crap as you call it is a book,” Hayley shot back, snatching the volume from her father before he could ruin it. “Or aren’t you familiar with books other than to destroy them?”

Eddie Franklin laughed nastily “All that stuff you read, history and politics. What does any of it have to do with you? You’re just Hayley Franklin. You’re not important. I know what you think. You think you’re better than your own father, but you’re not.”

Yes, Hayley thought. I am better than you. But she chose not to argue. Her father wouldn’t pay attention to the content of her argument; he would only hear sounds that would infuriate him because he wanted an excuse to be angry with the daughter who shamed him by her intelligence. And the consequence of that anger would very likely be retaliation against Nora, his blameless wife, someone Eddie knew would never resist his blows. True, Eddie Franklin didn’t always resort to physical violence, but when he did things got ugly and fast.

No, let her father think—if he ever really used his brain—that his daughter was an ungrateful bitch who gave herself airs. It was of no consequence to Hayley, not now. Amy’s protestations had had the desired effect after all. Hayley felt more determined than ever to pursue her plan.

“I’ll be at the Axe and Grind,” her father muttered, stalking toward the door of the apartment and letting it slam behind him.

Only then did Hayley’s mother emerge from the bathroom, where, Hayley suspected, she had been hiding from her husband. “Was that your father leaving?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Hayley said.

“I suppose he’s going to the Axe and Grind.”

Hayley was about to make a snide remark about Eddie Franklin and the local pubs, but the look of exhaustion on her mother’s face made her hold her tongue. “Forget about him, Mom,” she said. “You look worn-out. Tough day at work?”

“Well, yes,” Nora said, “now that you mention it. Three customers complained about the way I packed their groceries. One made me take everything out of her bag and start over again. She was very rude.”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Hayley said, reaching out and placing a hand gently on her mother’s shoulder.

“Hayley? You won’t leave me, will you, now that you’re working for those rich people?” her mother asked. “You won’t let them turn your head and decide to go away from me?”

No, Hayley thought. She would not allow her head to be turned. She was not naïve like Amy. She was manipulative and self-seeking. She was setting out to snare a decent man into a marriage with a woman who wanted him only for his money and his status. A twinge of severe embarrassment ran through her. What would Nora Franklin think if she knew what her daughter was planning for the sake of them both?

“No, Mom,” Hayley said firmly. “I won’t abandon you.”

Nora Franklin smiled feebly. “You’re all I’ve got,” she said.

“I know, Mom,” Hayley said. “I know.”