This Christmas (31 page)

Read This Christmas Online

Authors: Jane Green

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors)

BOOK: This Christmas
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Spain no longer counted as Europe, apparently.

“Without having to have an actual European in the house?” I guessed.

“Exactly!” Any sarcasm that might have just happened to seep into my tone sailed cleanly over her head. “We wanted to find someone with
values
,” she explained. “That’s why we wanted to find a nanny here, who could move with us. Can you imagine trying to find someone to look after a child in London?”

“I don’t know…I’ve heard of English nannies before. Didn’t they sort of invent them?”

She eyed me sagely. “Believe me—the days of Mary Poppins are long gone. To get somebody like that now, you’d have to unload your child’s trust fund. Can you imagine? Or—oh, Lord!—New York City! I wouldn’t like to have to hire someone there. You hear all sorts of stories just about people trying to get reliable dog walkers there.”

“I’m sure it’s difficult everywhere.”

“Oh, sure—but New York City! No telling what kind of
freaks
I’d have to interview to find somebody halfway decent.”

My skin was beginning to break out in the crawlies.

“But we know you’re a BP girl, so now our worries are over!”

I was starting to feel sick. The moment I had recognized Pepper, I had known that there was no way I could take the job, even if it was offered to me. I had enough hang-ups without having to live in a situation that reminded me just how short of my goals I had managed to fall in life. And the longer Pepper yammered on, the more cemented became my decision.
A nanny? Had I been insane?
No way did I want to deal with this crazy woman who was convinced that I was one of her. A Dallas Brahmin.

Married to my ex-boyfriend.

She had to be nuts to think that I would even consider it. Surely she knew I was just sitting here talking to her out of politeness.

“Of course I can’t commit to anything just now,” I said.

“Of course not! You’ll want to—Oh!” she cried, startling me. “I’m seeing Phaedra this afternoon. Remember Phaedra?”

As in an old science-fiction movie, I felt as if I were flailing against the spiraling background, trying not to be sucked back in time. Phaedra had been Pepper’s best friend through school.

They were
still
friends?

“Phaedra married Skip. Skip Honeywell? I’m sure you remember
him
.” I didn’t. “Anyway, they got divorced. It was very sad, because they had
three
little ones. All boys, too—what most guys
dream
about! But Skip cheated on Phaedra with about six different women, so she’d have to be a real doormat to put up with that.”

I mumbled an agreement.

“And anyway, he left her.” Pepper sighed. “Phaedra really went berserk for a while.”

I shook my head. One hated to think of someone named Phaedra going berserk. Especially when there were children involved.

She leaned closer, relishing every word. “Joined AA
and
flirted with becoming a Christian Scientist, if you can imagine. I worried she was going to turn into a real wacko. But then she met this really nice man named Flint Avery who’s, I dunno, some sort of genius at marketing or something, and now she’s almost back to normal. Except that she doesn’t do drinks before dinner
or
take Advil.”

“My goodness.” I hadn’t realized AA let you opt for an after-dinner-only option now. That certainly would make the whole program more appealing.

I considered whether it would be too soon to make my escape.

“I know!” Pepper exclaimed, as if I’d just agreed with her about something. “Personally, trying to get by in this world without Paxil and a little Vicadin seems too brutal for words, but you can’t argue with success. Phaedra’s been living this spar-tan existence for almost a year and a half and she
looks
great. We went to a spa in New Mexico together last month and just had a blast.”

I looked at my watch and expelled a sigh of regret. “Shoot! I have this appointment at noon…”

Pepper’s eyes flashed open. “But you can’t go yet. You have to meet August!” She jumped up, clearly expecting me to follow suit.

“Oh, but…”

“You
have
to,” she said. “I already told her we were having a visitor, though of course I didn’t know then who you were going to be. She’ll be so excited when I tell her you’re an old school friend.”

I had my doubts, but I couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse to meet Pepper’s kid. So I followed her crisply bustling figure up through the hall and up a flight of stairs, down another series of hallways, until we reached, at last, August’s suite. She was in her playroom, which was amazing. The walls were a pale mint green, and an artist of some skill had been brought in to copy the original Pooh illustrations. The furniture was all modern and painted in Necco wafer colors, with a few Pooh motifs scattered here and there. Tigger hopped dizzily across the front of a little wardrobe. A honey jar with bees buzzing around it was painted on the door of the television cabinet.

The television was on, and loud, and right now some commercial for processed cheese sticks was blaring at us.

Pepper swept into the room. “August?”

A small blond head peeped over the top of a miniature sofa. “Mommy!” she yelled, as if she hadn’t seen her mom in weeks.

The kid was unbelievably cute. She could have been in a Jell-O commercial. White-blond hair that frizzed into a sort of punk Shirley Temple look. Big blue eyes. Black lashes. She was dressed in little Gap clothes, denim overalls and a pink T-shirt underneath. When she saw her mom, she hopped off her sofa, ran crashing into Pepper’s knees, and peeked up at me with shy hostility.

“This is Alison,” Pepper said. “Can you say hello? Your mommy and Alison went to school together.”

August’s small fist went straight to her mouth.

“She’s shy!” Pepper mouthed at me.

I bent down, remembering suddenly that I had come prepared to win over my small potential employer as well as her parent. That seemed so long ago now, before I was ambushed by Pepper. “Hi, August. I have something for you.” I reached into my pocket and brought out a small lime sucker. I glanced up at Pepper. “Is it okay?”

“Just this once, sure. Say thank you, August.” August’s fist wrapped around the sucker, which went back directly into her mouth, plastic wrapper and all. As I stood up, a finger puppet accidentally on purpose fell out of my pocket. It was a happy frog with dangling legs.

“Oh! I forgot I had the Hopster with me!” I stuck the frog on my index finger and proceeded to do a little vaudeville routine that delighted Pepper, but frankly seemed to spook August a little. She wound herself more tightly around her mom’s leg.

When we left the nursery, Pepper was all praise for my clunky kid technique. “You are
so great
with August! You wouldn’t believe the people who’ve been through here. Some of them have obviously never even been around kids before, and yesterday some girl came here with a whole set of Disney DVDs to bribe her with! Can you imagine? Of course August
loved
her.”

Damn. I didn’t even know how to bribe a three-year-old. Talk about inept.
Finger puppets?
What did I think this was, 1972?

Not that I wanted this job. I absolutely didn’t.

The strange thing was, Pepper was acting as if it were a given that I had it, when before, when we were going up to August’s suite, she had been treating me more like a visitor than a potential employee. Maybe this was just an old-school-chum courtesy, to let me think that the decision was up to me. When we both knew what the decision would be.

As we walked back downstairs, she started giving me instructions. “Now, we always call her August. No nicknames. Spencer’s parents are always calling her Augie and it just drives me insane.” She flicked me a look that spoke volumes about the state of in-law relations in the Smith household. “They know I don’t like it, too. You can be sure of that.”

“August is such a great name,” I said.

“I think so. Of course we named her that before the world and its wife started naming their kids August,” she added bitterly.

“I didn’t know.” I tried to think of kids I’d known with the name of August and came up with…none.

“Puh-leez!” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, the way people are popping out kids these days, no name’s safe anymore.”

At the door, she gave me another of those weightless hugs of hers. “I’m so glad you showed up!”

“Well, I have to…”

She waved away my mumbled hesitation. “I know.
Think it over
. Of course you do! I’ll give you a buzz tomorrow. How about that?”

“Sure thing.”

“It was
just great
to see you Al.”


Just great
to see you, too, Pepper.”

I got out of there as fast as I could without actually running.

ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022

Copyright © 2005 by Kensington Publishing Corp.
“Vacation” copyright © 2005 by Jane Green
“The Second Wife of Reilly” copyright © 2005 by Jennifer Coburn
“Mistletoe and Holly” copyright © 2005 Elizabeth Bass

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 0-7582-4932-2

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