“Okay, I think I got this. The wide side goes on her butt, right?”
“Yes,” says Gran. I can hear her a lot better now, at least. “Sounds like that was the problem then?”
Maeve is now smiling at me, as a few last tears roll off her face. She reaches up to grab one of my still-damp braids.
“Yeah, that was it. Great, the most basic problem, after hungry, and I didn’t even think of it.”
“What are you doing there? Nanny? What happened?”
I think of the camera trained on the crib. I don’t know if it has sound, so I don’t want to say too much. “Let’s just say I got an offer I didn’t want to refuse. I’m sure it’s going to be great. Once I learn the ropes. Now I have two tricks–ice cube and dry diaper! Thanks for the help, Gran, I’ll call you tonight when I get home.”
“Good luck, baby, it sounds like you’ll need it.”
Chapter Four
In spite of my rocky start, the rest of my week falls into a fairly pleasant routine. Corbin insisted I take one of his family’s cars. “Think of it as a company car,” he’d said when I protested. One of the gardeners has been tinkering with my old Ford in his spare time and I’ve been driving a Range Rover. That makes my commute a bit less grueling. A gal can get used to a cushy ride that like.
I arrive at the castle/house/Domaine at eight in the morning, Maeve is always in the kitchen with Marta, having her breakfast. We go for a walk before it gets too hot. I always feel like an English Nanny pushing Maeve through the manicured gardens in her big old fashioned looking pram. Sometimes we go back to the nursery and play on the rug until lunchtime. She’s an easy-going baby, as long as her butt is dry and her tummy is full.
Even though I still feel like a big fraud, like at some point someone will realize I have no business caring for this child, at least I don’t feel panicked anymore. I actually really like it, having nothing to do except keep Maeve happy is almost meditative in some ways. Her happiness when I show up in the mornings is pure, and she’s sad when I leave after dinner. I’m getting attached to her, it’ll be hard to not see her anymore once school starts. And when she naps, I can get a lot of reading done.
But it’s really weird that Corbin just isn’t around much. I know he has to work at whatever it is he does, but he seldom interacts with Maeve and I. Sometimes, when she’s napping, he’ll come up the nursery to say “hi,” make sure everything is okay. Then he’ll make kind of awkward small talk for a few minutes about what I’m reading or what grape is being harvested that day. But other than the occasional pat on the head, he doesn’t seem to have much to do with his daughter.
“So, after I leave, does Mr. Pierce take over caring for Maeve?” I asked Marta over lunch one day.
“You mean does he carry her and change her himself? No. Me and Connie do all that. He reads her a book most nights, though. He is trying.” She shook her head sadly.
“He must really miss his wife,” I said, hoping to lead her into giving me some more information.
But she just shrugged and turned back to the stove leaving me feeling like I knew even less.
I’m waiting for the right moment to just ask Corbin. I feel like once I’ve been here a week, caring for his baby, I’ve earned the right to say something. It’s probably common knowledge that she died, it came up easily enough in a Google search. It’s odd that he never mentions her at all.
My Gran talks about my mom and dad all the time. Growing up, Gran’s best friend Ruth talked about her dead husband so much I actually asked Gran if Ruth knew that Danny was dead or if she really thought he could hear her. And Elise Pierce has only been dead eight months, seems like she’d come up now and again.
It’s weird, you know?
But anyway, Maeve and I fall into our comfortable rhythm and before I know it, it’s time to drive back to town to work my shift at No Winers.The first couple of days, I wondered if I’d made a mistake giving my notice at the bar; it’s an easy enough job and the extra cash can’t hurt. But by the third day, I was exhausted and had to nap when Maeve napped. I gave them the usual two weeks, but I seriously hope they find someone sooner. Plus, as soon as Dan and Eric figured out where I was working, they started bugging me to find out more about the winery itself.
“Find out who the main winemaker is,” said Eric. “Chanterelle used to be mostly whites, but I hear they’re growing Cabernet Franc. When those vines mature, they’re going to need someone who knows what he’s doing.”
“I watch the baby. I don’t even know where the winemaking happens.”
“Ask Mr. Moneybags. When he finds out you know all the best winemakers in the valley, he’ll probably give you a headhunter’s fee.” Dan’s moustache curls up with his smile.
“Nice try. I seldom see him. And when I do, I’m just trying to get him to interact with his kid some more. At least she seems happy to see him now, but don’t you think…” I don’t even bother, Eric and Dan are as interested in Maeve as I am in wine.
Today, Maeve and I were in the pool–and pool is not the right word. Grotto? Think boulders and waterfalls and tropical plants–when I saw Corbin walking towards us. He was in swim trunks, and I could not complain about the view. He was angled toward the deep part of the pool and he didn’t notice us, tucked between some rocks were Maeve likes to splash. She was quiet then, though, watching a lizard climb to a sunny spot. Corbin’s jaw was clenched, his expression a million miles away. He had that Daniel Craig-as-Bond look: troubled but really hot.
He dove in at the far end, noiselessly slipping into the water. I watched his powerful strokes as he swam underwater. When he got close enough that surely he had spotted my legs, he broke the surface of the water, shaking his hair out of his eyes as he came up.
“DA!” squealed Maeve, surprised and excited.
I watched Corbin’s face settle into a smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes.
“Yes, that’s your Daddy!” I said. “See, she’s so excited to see you!”
His smile warmed a bit as he gave his head a little shake. “Nice try, but that’s what she calls everyone and everything.”
I started to say “No, s
he also says ‘Ka’ and ‘Ow,’” but didn’t want to underline how out of touch he was with his kid, so I just said, “But she means it when it’s you,” and gave him my most winning smile.
That seemed to warm the smile into his eyes, even if it didn’t fully chase away the shadows. And Maeve did seem genuinely happy to see him, splashing the water around her little ring and shouting “DA!” at each slap.
“I read that most kids say ‘Daddy’ before they say ‘Mommy,’” I said, trying to reinforce that “see how much she likes you” but hearing, even as the words were leaving my mouth, the unsaid “even if they have a Mommy.” And or course Corbin heard it too, because I saw the clouds gathering again in his eyes.
He smiled that mouth-only smile again, said “Well, it was nice to run into you two, but I just wanted to cool off between calls. See you later.” He gave Maeve a kiss on her forehead and dove back under the water, swimming away from us, not surfacing until he was back at the far wall.
Now that I’m driving home, I’m replaying the pool scene in my head over and over. In my head, I can tell myself to shut up before I get to the “they say Daddy before Mommy” part and Corbin can keep smiling at us and then we can talk about something else entirely. But that’s not how it happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Through the Range Rover’s Bluetooth (my Ford has a cigarette lighter), I call Asia.
“Hey girl, how’s the babysitter gig?”
“Fine, mostly, but Corbin’s still really weird. Maybe weirder.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know, it’s not the right word, but he seems almost scared of Maeve. Really unsure of himself around her.”
“Eh, some guys are like that. You’ve seen Arya’s posts about how Drew treats their baby like he’s made of glass. They just figure women know what they’re doing.”