Chapter 19

While Ned and Gabe play tennis on the court adjacent to our house, I retreat to the living room with Isa in her bassinet. A half hour later, Nurse Marley returns from her shopping excursion and, after putting away the baby items, joins me.

“How did Isa do while I was gone?”

“She slept like an angel. Never woke up once,” I lie. I’ve decided for whatever reason not to tell her I fed her by myself, or about Gabe’s visit.

Satisfied that all is well, she wanders about the room straightening cushions and dusting surfaces while I sit on the couch next to the Baby Reborn doll, finishing my protein shake.

“You know, you really don’t have to be doing that,” I tell her, feeling guilty for idling.

She smiles. “I like to keep myself busy, and it’s part of my job.”

“Why don’t you relax? We can sit and chat for a bit.” Except for the other day when I poured my heart out, we haven’t spent much time together. And the truth is, I don’t know much about her except for her caregiver credentials.

“I don’t like to socialize when I’m on the clock.”

“Just call it a break. And I insist.”

She shrugs. “Alright, if you insist.” She settles into a leather club chair across from me. I set my glass on the coffee table next to the portable baby monitor.

“Is there anything you want to ask me about Isa?” she asks.

“Actually, I’d like to find out more about you.”

Tensing, she crosses her legs. “What you see is what you get.”

“C’mon, there’s got to be more to you. You’re a beautiful woman. How old are you?” With her aloof, sophisticated beauty it’s hard to tell. Twenty-something? Thirty-something?

“Twenty-six.” Almost five years younger than me. I would have guessed older.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“In my line of work, it’s hard to have a social life, let alone a boyfriend.” She laughs. “Unless the cute six-month-old boy who had a crush on me counts.”

My turn to laugh. It’s so nice to have a heart-to-heart with another woman. Feeling relaxed, I continue.

“Well, what do you do with yourself in your free time?”

“I sleep…and I told you, I’m writing a movie.”

“Right, a movie that’s inspired by a true crime.” I take a sip of my shake as she nods. “I love to watch movies, but I don’t think I could ever write one.”

“It takes a lot of discipline, but it’s fun. And I’m inspired.”

“How long have you been working on it?”

She laughs again. “It feels like a lifetime. Plotting is really hard. And I’ve had to do a lot of research. I even had to take a trip to Italy.”

Italy. Where I wanted to go on a honeymoon with Ned. Venice. My heart sinks. That never happened. I ended up not bothering to renew my expired passport.

“I’ve never been there. What was it like?”

“I’d call it fulfilling.”

It’s not quite the answer I was expecting. Breathtaking? Romantic? Unforgettable? I fumble for what to say next. “How far into the script are you?”

“The third act. I’m working on the ending.”

“Wow. So, it’s almost done.”

“Yes. And I’ve edited as I’ve gone along, so it’s in really good shape.”

“Does it have a happy ending?”

She thinks before she answers. “Well, the bad guys get theirs, and the heroine gets what she deserves. What she’s always wanted.”

“That sounds good. I hate when the bad guys get away with murder.”

“Me too.”

“You should show it to Ned when you’re ready. Maybe he can read it and hook you up with some film producers. He knows everyone.”

“I will…when I think I can knock him dead.”

“What about your family?” I ask, changing the subject. On her website, there was no mention of her family in her bio, nor were there any photos on her Instagram.

Nurse Marley pales. “What about them?”

The sharp-edged tone of her voice says don’t pry, but I persevere.

“Are you from LA?”

She shakes her head. “No, about three hours north from here…Fresno.”

I have no clue where that is. “What made you move to LA?”

“There were opportunities here that I didn’t have back home. Lots of wealthy parents that can afford the luxury of a night nanny. Plus, I had personal things I wanted to achieve.”

“The same with me. Except my interior design career has been on hold since I got pregnant.” I set my glass back down. “And I haven’t had the chance to explore LA since moving here from Vegas and being holed up in this house.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be for long,” says Nurse Marley, her voice oozing with optimism. “Once you get stronger, I’ll be glad to show you around. I know all the best places to take babies and to meet other new mothers. The A-list playgrounds. Mommy and Me groups. Postnatal yoga classes. Even the best places to buy baby clothes can help you connect with other new moms. Form friendships.”

Having friends is something that has eluded me my entire life. My nomadic mother moved around all the time when I was an adolescent, from apartment to apartment, each one smaller, giving me no chance to make neighborhood or school friends. And honestly, I was a bit of a loner, preferring to bury my head in a book or draw things in my sketch pad than to participate in group activities like sports and after-school clubs.

Unable to afford a college degree unless I paid off a hefty student loan, I got a certificate from an online interior design program, so that didn’t make for friends either, and except for creating Pinterest boards, I’ve had little presence online. Facebook friends and Instagram followers have not been my thing. I was in LA for less than a week when I met Ned, and during our three-month whirlwind romance, I never connected to any of his A-list mover and shaker friends. Well, except for his partner, Gabriel Lucas.

Gabe…

And now, Nurse Marley. She’s beginning to feel like a friend.

“Did you decorate this house?” she asks, getting my mind off Gabe. Fingers crossed he and Ned will go straight to the Beverly Hills Hotel coffee shop after their tennis match (their ritual: whoever loses buys breakfast) and I won’t have to see him again today. Or for a long while.

“Hardly,” I tell her. “It’s all Ned’s doing—well, except for the nursery. I designed that room.” I don’t tell her how much I hate his cold, masculine, minimalist furnishings. Yes, the house is tasteful but not my taste. It looks like it was mail-ordered from one of those trendy Italian furniture catalogues.

“In my opinion, the best part of the house are the views. You can see The Valley, downtown, and, on a clear day, all the way to the ocean. Have you checked out the backyard?”

Marley squirms. “I haven’t. I don’t remember if I told you, but I have a fear of heights.”

A bit ruffled, she goes on. “The way you describe your hillside property makes me anxious…that it’s not safe for Isa. And the pool concerns me too. Though I have a CPR certificate, I’m not a great swimmer.” She looks outside. “You and Ned should get the pool gated for the safety of your daughter. And build some kind of retaining wall. Your baby will be crawling in no time.”

I heave a sigh. She’s right, but Ned won’t agree to that easily. If at all. It’ll ruin the aesthetic of his beloved house. The once-and still-perfect bachelor pad. I’m glad when Marley drops the subject.

“Isa’s room, however, is so charming.”

“Thank you. I loved decorating it.”

“Well, if I ever sell my screenplay and become rich and famous, I want you to decorate my house.”

“It would be my pleasure.” In my head, I envision a gorgeous all-white living space, with large sculptural pieces of furniture and lavender accent pieces that match the color of her eyes.

Nurse Marley smiles. “I hope you’ll also fill it with flowers.”

“Yes…lots of white and purple orchids everywhere.”

A slow, melancholy smile blooms on her face. “Orchids are my favorite flowers. They were also my mother’s.”

Her use of past tense is not lost on me. “Your mother died?” I hedge.

“She was taken from me when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, though questions dance in my head, begging for answers.

“It’s okay, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”

I switch the subject. “What about your father?”

“He died before I was born. An aneurysm.”

Wanting to learn more about her, I don’t tell her that my father died too. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

She hesitates before answering. Her face grows sullen. “No.”

“So, you’re an only child…like me?”

“So to speak.”

I don’t question her somewhat cryptic response. “Were you close to your mother?”

She smiles in a strange, sad way. And toys with the silver rosary around her neck. The locket. “Very close. She was a saint.”

The last word I’d use to describe my overbearing mother.

She quiets. Silently, she stares into space, her eyes watering. And for a moment it looks like she might be about to cry.

Just then, Isa begins to wail.

Nurse Marley jumps up. “That’s my call. It’s time to feed my little munchkin.”

“Can’t I feed her?”

It’s like my words have fallen on deaf ears. Ignoring me, she hurries to the kitchen to fetch a bottle.

As she whooshes past me, I absentmindedly pick up the lifelike Baby Reborn doll and think about our conversation. I can’t help wondering why a beautiful single young woman like her chose to become a nanny.

Is she, too, hiding a secret?