Starting from Scratch (14 page)

S
lipping off her glasses, Elisha rubbed the bridge of her nose. She'd been interviewing potential nannies all morning long and so far, no one had stood out. Several of the women had been extremely competent, but those had failed in the most important category. There had been no spark, no warmth emanating from them. She wanted a woman who was not only efficient, but likable.

Was that too much to ask?

Eventually, she began to think that it might be. Initially, she'd begun the interviews with both girls in the room with her. Andrea's patience was in short supply, especially since she was completely against inviting a total stranger to stay in the house in the first place. After the second applicant had left, so did Andrea, her expression a testimony to both her boredom and her annoyance over the whole event.

But Beth remained with her, listening intently. At the end of each interview, Elisha would glance in the little girl's direction to see what she thought of the current woman sitting before them. And each time, Beth would shake her head, her silky dark brown hair bouncing back and forth against her rounded cheeks.

They were down to their last potential nanny when Elisha took Beth aside. “You had to have liked at least one.”

Beth remained firm. “Not as much as I like you.”

So, this is what they mean by prisoner of love, Elisha thought.

“Thank you, sweetie, I appreciate the compliment, but we're just going to have to find a runner-up soon. I'm supposed to get back to work on Monday, just like you have to get back to school.”

Beth made herself comfortable on the well-upholstered arm of the chair Elisha was sitting on. She looked Elisha in the eye and delivered her argument. “I don't have to go back to school.”

“Yes, you do, it's the law.” Thank God, she added silently. “You don't want the police to come here and arrest me, do you?”

Beth, apparently, had given this more than just a little thought. “No. But I could be homeschooled. You can teach me.”

Elisha laughed at the idea. Threading her arm around the slim shoulders, she pulled Beth onto her lap. Beth curled up as if she belonged there. “Look, my brilliant little scholar, you already know enough that you could actually homeschool me.”

Beth was more than willing to entertain the idea, if it would keep her aunt home. “Okay.”

“That wasn't a suggestion.” Giving Beth a hug, she scooted her off her lap. “We'll get through this,” she said with a great deal more enthusiasm than she actually felt. “Okay, who's next?”

“Just one,” Beth told her. “Samantha Wentworth.” Frowning, she looked up at her aunt. “I don't like her name.”

At this point, a note of desperation was beginning to set in. She had to find someone. Some of the first applicants she'd interviewed this morning were starting to look pretty good to her.

“We'll give her a chance anyway,” she told Beth. “If we hire her, we can call her Sam. You like the name Sam, don't you?” Thinking it over, Beth nodded. “Okay, then, let's bring in Sam.”

Beth went to the door and called the woman in from the kitchen.

As it turned out, Samantha Wentworth was the best of the lot. During the interview, she looked at Beth several times, addressing her comments to her as if the little girl was on the same level as she was, rather than just an annoying charge she was going to be taking care of. That impressed Elisha and she could tell that it wasn't lost on Beth.

The references the woman had brought with her appeared to be impeccable. Each family listed on the sheet she'd had prospective applicants fill out had given Samantha a letter of recommendation, praising her qualities as both a housekeeper and a nanny.

The woman also did windows.

Nonetheless, Elisha made a mental note to give every family listed a call to ask questions firsthand. Letters could be forged.

God, when had she gotten so cynical?

“We'll be in touch,” she promised at the conclusion of the interview as she walked Samantha to the front door and then outside to the woman's small economy car. For the first time that day, she actually meant the line.

“I'll be looking forward to it,” Samantha replied. She'd addressed the sentence to Beth.

Exhausted, Elisha walked back into the house with Beth. “I think I like her.”

“Yeah,” Beth agreed slowly. “I think I do, too.”

Elisha's mouth curved. Beth sounded like a little old lady. “Let's tell Andrea.” Going toward the stairs, she stood at the bottom and called up, “Andrea, could you come down here, please?”

“She's not home,” Beth told her.

For the last few days, Andrea had hung around the house. She'd come to expect that. That she'd gone out without saying anything made Elisha feel uneasy.

“She's not home?” Elisha repeated, fighting a wave of distress. “Then where is she? Do you know where your sister is?”

Beth raised and lowered her small shoulders as she said, “Out.”

It was a large world outside the house. “That covers a huge amount of territory.”

“That's all she said when she walked by me,” Beth told her.

She should have been paying more attention to Andrea and less to the women she was interviewing, Elisha upbraided herself. None of the applicants had measured up, anyway. Not like Samantha had.

It was broad daylight and this was a nice neighborhood. There was no reason to feel this uneasiness that was setting in, Elisha told herself. It was just that she had no control beyond the walls of the house.

Don't have much control inside the walls of the house either, not when it comes to Andrea.

She looked down at Beth. “Where does your sister usually go when she goes out? Who are her friends?”

To both questions, Beth shook her head and replied, “I don't know. Andrea doesn't tell me their names. Says that's her business.”

That didn't sound very encouraging, Elisha thought. This being responsible for someone else really was the pits. Along with the feeling of uncertainty and being trapped, the parental role brought with it a helplessness that made it difficult to function.

All sorts of things began popping up in her head as she thought about what Andrea might be doing. Each more negative than the last.

Elisha suddenly found herself wishing that her mother was alive so that she could apologize to the woman for what she knew she had to have put her through during her own teenage years.

Being the parent in charge was damn rough.

“You got your wish, Mom.” She'd lost track of the number of times her mother had uttered the age-old line Wait, wait until you have children of your own. You'll see. “I've got children now, Mom. Henry's children.”

She could only pray that she wouldn't make a mess of things.

 

By six that evening, by her own admission, Elisha was closing in on becoming a basket case. She had no one to turn to in her circle of friends. They were either childless or clear across the country.

Desperate, with Beth in tow, she finally went next door and rang Anne Nguyen's doorbell.

There was a great deal of noise coming from inside. Her anxiety growing to proportions she could barely manage, Elisha tried knocking on the door. Loud. As it was, she was about two steps removed from calling the local hospitals to see if any of them had had a teenage girl brought in recently.

Anne swung open her door even as she was issuing a warning to her oldest to turn down his music or spend the rest of the evening in the garbage. Her son took this as an opportunity to begin negotiations for an iPod.

Taking one look at Elisha's face, Anne waved her son into silence.

“What happened?” Anne asked, drawing Elisha into her house. Like a faithful puppy, Beth followed behind her. “You look awful.”

“I'm just worried.” This would probably sound stupid to Anne. The woman had three children and she seemed to be juggling all three of them just fine. Meanwhile,
she'd
misplaced a fifteen-year-old girl. “Andrea went out.”

Anne ushered aunt and niece into her kitchen. “She's a teenager, they do that.” Without asking, she poured a cup of coffee for her guest and placed it in front of her. Beth had gone off, enticed to play the latest video game by one of Anne's younger sons. “Do you know where?”

Taking the cup gratefully, Elisha shook her head. “I'm not even sure when.” She took a sip of coffee and realized that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. God, she had to get better organized than this. “I was interviewing nannies,” she added quickly, not wanting Anne to think that she was completely oblivious to what was going on in the house.

“Nannies,” Anne repeated with a knowing nod. “That would explain it.”

“Explain what?”

“Why Andrea left the house.” Anne sat down beside her, her own mug of coffee in hand. “The dynamics of her life are changing. She's trying to regain some control. The only thing she has control over is herself, so she took herself out of the equation. Went someplace familiar so that she could feel better about everything.”

The only problem was, it might have been familiar to Andrea but not to her. It had been a lot easier when she could just sit on the sidelines, watching Henry be the parent. She didn't like the fact that Andrea was off in some unknown place.

Beth and Anne's son Eddie came running into the kitchen. “Mom, can I have some chocolate-chip cookies? For Beth.”

“Well, as long as they're for Beth,” Anne allowed, getting up. She went to the rack where the batch she'd just made were cooling.

“You bake?” Elisha asked.

“On occasion.”

Elisha groaned. “All I do is heat things up that come prepared. Either that, or dial out for pizza.”

“Pizza's good, too,” Anne said, placing a dozen cookies on a plate and handing them to her son. “Bread, cheese, tomato, covers a lot of the food groups.”

Beth's eyes shone when she saw the cookies. She might have had the brain of a high-school sophomore, but she had the cravings of a full-fledged adult woman. Elisha had a feeling the cookies were going to have a very short life span.

Clutching the coffee cup between both hands, Elisha brought it up to her lips. Seeking the familiar.

Like Andrea, she supposed.

Little by little, as she sipped, the agitation drained from her. She looked at Anne. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

She nodded toward the family room, where Eddie and Beth were playing a video game. Unable to play for lack of an extra set of controls, Anne's youngest son, Richard, was cheering them on. “Make it all work.”

Anne smiled and sighed. Deeply. “It's a learning process.”

That sounded a great deal like school. “When do you graduate?” Elisha asked.

“About five minutes before you die.”

This time it was Elisha's turn to sigh. “Something to look forward to.”

Anne set down her mug and placed her hand on top of Elisha's. “My mother gave me one piece of advice when I had my first baby. She said the journey was the important thing, not the destination.”

“No offense, but your mother was probably thinking she was finally going to have her revenge for what you put her through as a kid.”

Anne laughed, picking up her mug again. Somewhere in the background, something fell with a crash. Closing her eyes, Anne winced but remained where she was. “You're probably right.”

A
ndrea finally came home a little after ten that evening.

The time between when she'd put Beth to bed and Andrea's arrival had stretched out before Elisha to form an eternity. She'd spent the entire time vacillating between being furious and praying that the girl was safe. Several times, she'd picked up the phone to call the police, then replaced it. She knew all the excuses she'd get, that teenagers lost track of time, that they ran away from home. In either case, the police didn't involve themselves. Not unless she was willing to file a missing person's report. Because of Andrea's age, one couldn't be filed until she was missing for twenty-four hours.

So she waited. And paced. And swore under her breath at Henry for dying and leaving this all in her lap.

The second she heard the key in the door, Elisha raced toward it.

“Are you all right?” she demanded as Andrea entered.

The same remote, unresponsive expression she'd seen earlier was on the teenager's face. “Yeah. Why?”

Why?
It took effort not to explode. “Because I just spent the last seven hours worried about you, that's why.”

Andrea began to walk past her. “You didn't have to.”

Stunned, Elisha made a grab for the girl's shoulder, swinging her around. Andrea shrugged her off. “Yes, I have to. I'm responsible for you. Look—” she struggled to hold on to her temper “—I don't want you leaving without telling me where you're going.”

Andrea's eyes were sullen and accusing as they looked at her. “What is this, prison?”

God, was this what Henry had put up with? There was no way of knowing. Henry never complained about anything. “No,” Elisha answered tersely, “it's a home. But if I'm going to turn my life inside out for you, you're going to have to throw me some crumbs here, Andie.”

Andrea crossed her arms before her, the absolute prototype for defiance. “You're hiring a nanny. Doesn't seem like you're turning very much inside out to me.”

“I'm hiring a nanny because someone has to be here for you in the afternoon since I'm still keeping my job.”
If not my sanity.
“My commute is going to be more than twice as long as it was so that you can go on living here where your friends are.”

The information caught Andrea off guard. Some of the defiance momentarily left her face. “You're not selling the house?”

“No.” She never would have sold it. As far as she was concerned, the house was part of Henry's legacy to the girls. It was just living here that presented the problem. But she was going to have to deal with it, at least for now. “You and Beth have already gone through a lot, I can't take you away from your home and friends, as well.”

Obviously surprised, Andrea shifted from foot to foot. A little of the girl she once knew returned as the words reluctantly emerged from Andrea's lips. “Okay.” She frowned, then continued, “I'll let you know where I'm going.”

Score one for the child-rearing challenged.
A smile rose to Elisha's mouth. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Andrea tossed her head. “But you're going to have to let me know where you're going, too.”

The salvo the girl delivered had come out of left field. “What?”

Andrea smiled, clearly pleased to be in the driver's seat. “It works both ways. You said you'd worry if you didn't know where I was. Well, Beth'll worry if you're gone too long. She'll probably think another adult abandoned her.”

Elisha looked at her, trying to keep the knowing expression from her face. It wouldn't be cool for Andrea to admit that she might be the one who was worried.

“Wouldn't want Beth to think that.” Elisha smiled, putting out her hand. “Okay, you've got a deal.”

Andrea took the offered hand, still looking a little rebellious, but relatively satisfied that she had won some kind of point. “Deal,” she murmured.

 

Elisha was asleep probably ten seconds before her head hit the pillow. She was beyond tired, close to dead. It felt as if everything had been drained out of her over the course of the day. So when she became aware that the phone was ringing, her first impulse was to ignore it. Anyone who had something to say to her could say it to her answering machine and she'd deal with whatever it was in the morning.

But when the phone rang the third time, always long enough to deliver four rings before disconnecting, she knew there was no peace to be had until she spoke with whoever was on the other end of the line.

Probably Rocky, assuring himself that she was coming in on Monday, Elisha thought darkly, reaching for the receiver. She wasn't feeling very friendly.

“This better be an obscene phone call to make it worth my while.” That would shake him up, she congratulated herself.

“Would heavy breathing do or do you actually require verbal scenarios?”

Her eyes flew open as every sleeping bone in her body instantly woke up. She scrambled into a sitting position, adrenaline rushing around without a clear-cut enemy or reason for defense. She had no idea why she reacted that way to Sutherland when, if it had been any of her other authors answering with that quip, she would have continued lying in bed.

“Mr. Sutherland?”

“You recognize my voice?” She thought he sounded mildly amused.

“No one else's voice sounds as if it's coming from the bottom of a three-hundred-foot oil well.”
Think, Lise, think. Don't babble.
Thoughts began to emerge and solidify. “I'm told I have you to thank for spreading the word about my brother's passing.”

He shrugged off her gratitude the way he shrugged off everything else, with a note of indifference that completely mystified her. “Don't know about thanks, but I thought you might need the support.”

Maybe there was more to this man than just commando training. “I did. Thanks.” She paused, trying desperately to lift the fog from her brain. “And thanks for the flower arrangement.” Thinking of it, she smiled. “It dwarfed everything else.” She had a feeling that it was supposed to. The man liked to think of himself as larger than life.

“I'm glad you liked it.”

The room felt chilly. This was a colder autumn than most. She pulled the covers closer. “I was surprised you didn't come, since you told everyone else about the wake. I kept looking for you.”

There was a long pause on the other end. “Funerals are not my thing. I've seen too many good men put in the ground already.” He gave serious thought to hanging up before she could probe further, but he hadn't gotten to the reason for his call. “So how's it going?”

Was he being actually friendly? She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost midnight. Was there a full moon out? Was that the reason for this show of civility? “You want that blow by blow, or a
Reader's Digest
summary?”

“The latter.”

Elisha smiled to herself. She would have put money on his choosing that version.

“Rough, but I'll make it.” Even as she said it, she didn't wholeheartedly believe it. But Sutherland wasn't someone she'd be willing to pour out her innermost insecurities to. The man respected strength, not weakness. Then, because she felt she had to say something, she added, “I've been interviewing nannies all day.”

“Sounds like you didn't find one.”

She tried not to notice that having his distinctly male voice rumbling against her ear was stirring something within her. Probably had to do with the fact that she hadn't been with a man for so long, she was no longer sure which end was up. And though she hated to admit it, Sutherland did have a sexy voice.

“Actually, I did,” she told him. “I just need to check out her references.”

“What's her name?”

“Samantha Wentworth. Why?”

It was clear by his tone that he didn't like explaining himself. “I probably have a lot better sources than you do.”

“For checking out nannies?”

“As long as they come under the heading of human beings,” Sutherland said crisply, cutting short any further speculation on her part. “How soon do you need to know?”

Okay, we'll talk your language.
“ASAP.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

It was as good as a promise and she knew it. One less thing to worry about.

Settling back against the pillow, she slowly wound the cord around her finger. Curiosity got the better of her. “Why did you call, Ryan?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. She wondered if it was because she'd called him by his first name. Had she crossed some imaginary line she shouldn't have? She half expected to hear a click. Instead, he answered her.

“To see if you've thought about rescheduling your appearance at the poker game. I've got one going this Friday.”

Friday. She'd missed the game two weeks ago. God, had it been two weeks already? Two weeks since Henry had died? It felt like aeons, and at the same time, like just yesterday. Without work to serve as her guide, the days somehow seemed to meld into one another without form or designation.

When she made no answer, he was all set to shrug it off. “All right, maybe it's too soon. I'll—”

“It's not too soon,” she interrupted. “Besides—” she smiled to herself “—as I remember, the fate of your manuscript lies in the balance.”

“No, it doesn't,” he contradicted, his voice as sober as a judge doling out a death sentence. “My manuscript is just fine.”

Somehow, they were back to the same argument. She had no idea why, but it made her smile. Probably because she missed familiar ground. “Oh, it'll sell, Sutherland.”

“Damn straight it'll sell.”

“But,” she continued with feeling, “it'll sell more copies and gain you a measure of respect if you do it my way.”

He exhaled in what she could only take to be exasperation. “Still cocky even after everything.”

I am so far from cocky, you'd need a road map to find your way back to the first C.
But it wasn't anything she would readily admit to him. “Hey, if it works…”

Sutherland wasn't about to listen to anymore. “Okay, the game'll be at my house on the island.” Then, in case she didn't have it, he gave her the address.

All the phone numbers where she could reach him plus his two residences were already entered in her BlackBerry. What she wasn't prepared for was that he was holding the game at his house rather than his Tribeca apartment. “I thought your friends liked to play in the city.”

“No,” he contradicted with a touch of impatience, “I said my friends played when they were in the city. But I've decided to relocate it this time.” Then, before she could get a chance to ask him why, he told her. “So that you wouldn't be too far from the girls.”

Thoughtful. Ryan Sutherland was being thoughtful. It had to be some kind of trick. The man was setting her up for something.

She was still waiting to find out what that something was when he hung up several minutes later.