Jessie & Elizabeth (abandoned)

11. An Honest Woman [Part 2]

Before anyone could protest, I dashed into the hallway. Peeking into the living room, I saw Ari and Camille sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, fascinated by some colorful cartoon on the TV. Good. They wouldn't cause any trouble for a while.

I climbed the stairs and went straight ahead, to where I knew Elizabeth's bedroom was, and knocked on her door. "Elizabeth, are you okay?"

The door opened a few inches, revealing part of her face. She was frowning, of course. "What are you doing here? I told you, I just need to lie down." Her voice trembled, and it sounded dulled somehow.

"Just wanted to check if you needed anything."

She opened the door a bit further. She'd changed into a comfortable shirt and dark blue pajama pants with tiny roses on them. Judging by the cotton pad in her hand, she'd been about to remove her make-up. It struck me I'd never seen her without it before. "I told you I was fine."

But it was clear she wasn't. As she said it, it seemed to get harder and harder for her to speak, and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it. She sniffed, and her eyes were strangely clear, almost glasslike. Then, the first tear escaped, trailing a path over her smooth cheek.

My feet were nailed to the floor. I couldn't move at all, too shocked by what was happening in front of me.

Elizabeth Canfield, first-class tough boss and independent woman, was crying.

"Just leave me alone."

I couldn't. Not when her lips were shaking, not when she pressed her fingers to her forehead as if trying to stop the floodgates from opening by sheer force.

"Leave me alone, Jessie." But her voice was high and squeaky and broken, reflecting the pain in her eyes, and I was a nanny, after all.

"I'm not gonna leave you alone! You're bawling your heart out, for god's sake, how could I leave you alone?"

She staggered then, backward, retreating. She had left the door open, and I took that as permission to follow her in, closing it behind me in case Celeste decided to come snooping around.

Her room wasn't much bigger than mine, although certainly redone more recently, with a luxurious thick carpet and a picture of the raving ocean above a rigidly made-up California king bed. She had sat down in front of her vanity cabinet, attempting to dab at her eyeshadow, only the tears were coming out faster now, one after the other, already starting to leave black smudges.

I wasn't sure what to do. For one, we weren't exactly friends, and secondly, I still didn't know what was going on. I fidgeted in place, then decided to pick up a box of tissues from the bedside table and held them before her. "Here. I don't think you're gonna get anywhere with your make-up right now."

She took one, hiding her face in it. It didn't help much: her shuddering shoulders were a dead give-away.

I waited for a while, debating what I could say. Normally, I wasn't really a think-before-you-speak kinda girl, only I was treading on thin ice here. I had no idea what a miserable Elizabeth was capable of. "Does this... does this have anything to do with Celeste?"

She didn't say anything, although she seemed to stop for a moment.

Come on. This was just another nanny-situation, like when Manon was angry with her mother. "She was kinda shitty about the whole Connery thing." Out of nowhere, she let out a strangled howl, and for the first time since I knew her, I felt sorry for her. Genuinely sorry. I approached her, looking at her in the mirror, wondering if I should pat her on the back or something. "I know we don't always get along, but I hate seeing you like this," I blurted out then. "You're supposed to be glaring at me. And I always tell the girls it's best to get things off your chest."