The Nanny

1. Paige

This book enters Paid Stories on September 21st, 2022

Up until two days ago, I was organized, which is how I like to live my life. Neat. Ordered. No room for chaos or uncertainty. Unfortunately, when you're that type of person, it doesn't take much to tip the scales out of your favor. It's a lesson I seem to have been learning continuously for the last thirty-two years.

"Your nanny already quit? Paige, you're not even in the country. How does she know working for you would be awful?" Gwen, my younger sister, asks as she folds more clothes to put into my son, Joey's, suitcase which is open on the spare bed. Her long brown hair falls in loose waves around her narrow face when she presses on the pile of clothes she's already packed.

I watch her shove the outfits in the suitcase, and I cringe. While I appreciate the help, everything will be wrinkled by the time we arrive in Bedford, England. I'll have to spend my time unpacking and ironing when I should be preparing.

As the Project Manager for a new low-income housing development, the one-year transfer to England is an incredible opportunity to show I'm capable of learning and applying local regulations and working with new team members. To be asked to oversee the architectural design and implementation on such a big initiative was a huge boost to my confidence.

"At first, she told me she found another job that pays more."

"Maybe you should buck up and take some cash out of those deep pockets." Gwen rolls a pair of tiny pants and stuffs them into a hole. She hasn't even placed the pants near the matching shirt.

"I tried to outbid the person stealing my nanny, but she said she'd driven past the house I've rented and she didn't like that it was so far away from the city center." I tuck my almost shoulder length blonde hair behind my ears.

"That's not a good sign. How'd you pick the place again?"

"Photos that Kate, my real estate person over there, sent me. The job offer and everything came together so quickly, I didn't have time to go to England. With Joey and all..." It pained me to rely on someone else to select an appropriate place to live, but trekking overseas with a toddler just to view a house seemed over the top, even for me, given our tight timeline.

Instead, I gave my requirements, and Kate assured me the house she selected met all my criteria. Within the company budget. Three bedrooms. Decent yard for Joey. Not too far from Bedford.

After my conversation with the former nanny, I'm having some doubts. Kate was clear that the house was 'a little drive from Bedford' but now I'm wondering whether I should have mapped the distance. I've been so busy that it's been hard to be my usual precise self. Apparently finding a house with a good-sized garden in the company's price range hadn't been an easy task.

"In desperation, I posted an ad for a nanny on a local community page today. Zero luck with the agencies given my timeline. I have to have a live-in nanny considering the hours I'll need to work. It's getting to the point where I'll have to take whoever is able to start on time." The thought makes me nervous. Every other nanny I've had has been carefully vetted. Not that I'll skimp on references, but the woman I hire might not be the best person for Joey. "Why is it this hard to find someone?"

"Are you having regrets yet?" Gwen asks as she flicks another tiny shirt and proceeds to butcher the folding. I'm not sure how we were raised in the same family, but I'm as detailed and precise as she is lackadaisical and easy-going. For this reason, any time I've had a nanny quit on me or I've fired them in a huff of annoyance, which has been, honestly, a few times, she blames my rigid standards. Hard to please. Hard to live with. According to her, I'm hard work.

The fact that I've resisted refolding every piece of clothing she's packed should be an indication I'm capable of change. Or at least willing to wait until she leaves. We haven't even argued once. Our final parting gift to each other.

"When you get a nanny," Gwen says, "if you manage to keep them for the whole year you're there, I'll be shocked. Doesn't even seem possible to me. You and a nanny getting along for a whole year is a high fantasy. Can't take place on earth."

Although these comments aren't new, for some reason, my hackles rise at the suggestion I'm impossible to tolerate or please. "The next nanny I get, assuming they actually start the job, will be with me for the whole year. Guaranteed. No issues."

"Care to place a bet on that?" Gwen gives me a sly smile. "You're getting this fancy new promotion to an overseas job site, so you can afford one little bet."

I shouldn't. Betting is dangerous and reckless, and it's normally the last thing I'm interested in. But I hate the smug look on her face. She doesn't think I'll say yes, and that I'll back down. Admit that I am, in fact, difficult to work for. High standards aren't a bad thing, despite what Gwen believes.

"You'll already be living in my house for the year at cost," I say.

"That can't be part of the bet. That's just us being nice to each other for a change. You don't want to move everything out of here and rent your house for a year to a stranger, and I liked your rental price." She bats her brown eyes at me, which are so different from my deep blue ones. "Just admit you won't be able to keep the same nanny. We all know it."

The chaotic, shitty week I've had makes me more defiant than usual. There is no reason I can't make a relationship work with a live-in nanny for a year. My penchant for changing them or having them quit doesn't have to happen there. British people are cultured and dignified. They're probably organized too. My kind of people, I'm sure of it. Keeping the same person won't be as impossible as it is here.

"Name your price," I say with a tip of my chin. 

"Safari for two. Mark and I want to go to Kenya."

"Kenya?" I scoff. "That'll be like—"

"Really expensive, yeah. Obviously we can't afford that. But you'll be an ex-pat, right? At the top of the salary grid. The company is paying for your housing and your car. Or at least that's what you told Mom and Dad. Cost only matters if you don't think you can keep a nanny for a year. But you've said it'll be no problem. If you don't mean that..."

She's playing me, and even though I can recognize it, I'm too emotionally wrung out from every other decision I've had to make on the fly the last two weeks to control myself. When I interviewed for the promotion weeks ago and didn't hear back, I started to assume I wouldn't get it.

Any preliminary planning I'd put into the idea of moving was pushed to the back of my mind. Then they offered it, and my life hit the fast-forward button. The timing, at least with my current nanny was good, since Christine had just given her two weeks' notice. Everything else has been rushed and a tad too chaotic for my liking.  

"A safari for two. It's a deal. Better start saving up. You won't be taking it with my money."

"I can't even keep track of the number of nannies you've had since Joey was born. Ten? Twelve? And he's only two and a half." Gwen laughs. "I'll be going on safari." She tosses a partially folded shirt into the suitcase. "I can't wait to meet this wonder nanny who won't quit and won't drive you nuts."

"No sabotaging." I point my finger at her. "If you and Mark come to visit, you can't try to persuade my nanny to quit." Not only would that lose me the bet, but it would completely screw me over.

Unlike in Grand Rapids where I can beg my parents to take Joey for a few days while I search for a replacement, I'll have no one to watch my son on short notice in England. I'll be completely reliant on my nanny, which is another reason I'm sure I can make any situation work. I won't have a choice.

Now all I need to do is find my Mary Poppins. Where's a woman descending from the sky with an umbrella when you need her?

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Reads: 407

Started November 2021