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A goddess is more like it.
NINE
AVA
I join Ned at the kitchen island, choosing to stand at one end rather than hoisting myself onto a stool. He guzzles his full glass of wine.
“I’m so thrilled you like Nurse Marley,” I say, as he wanders to the fridge and pours himself a refill. Bringing the bottle along with the glass back to the island, he returns to his seat.
“So, did you have her sign any papers?”
I look at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“You know…A contract. And an NDA.”
I feel myself shrivel, my cheeks heat. How stupid of me! All my clients have always made me sign both—a contract and a nondisclosure agreement. Was I that eager for her to start?
Ned looks at me expectantly. “Well…?”
“No, Ned, I didn’t. I hired her on the spot because her references were stellar.”
And because you and I were desperate.
Ned lifts his wineglass. “Godsend or not, I can’t have someone working for me who doesn’t sign a contract and an NDA.”
His choice of the word me instead of us doesn’t go unnoticed by me.
After a few swigs of the wine, he continues. “No one in this town can be trusted.”
Nor can I, I think to myself, my heart pounding. If he knew my secret…
His expression softens. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll have someone in the office draw up the paperwork tomorrow.” He drains the rest of his wine. “So where is she going to be sleeping?”
“In Isa’s room.”
“But the only bed in there is Isa’s crib.”
“She said she’d be totally fine with the rocker. Apparently, she doesn’t sleep much during the night and is used to dozing off in them.”
Ned’s brows furrow, causing a crease between them. I can’t tell what’s going on in his head until he says, “I think we should move the guest room sofa bed to Isa’s room in case she wants to lie down.”
“But my mother likes to sit on that couch and watch TV.”
At the mention of my mother, my husband’s face hardens. “Your mother can watch TV from the queen-size bed. And stay there all day, for all I care.”
My mother and Ned have never gotten along. It’s hard for two controlling individuals to share the same space. Breathe the same air. And for whatever reason, their relationship has deteriorated. I’m not looking forward to her upcoming visit at the end of the week. We have enough stuff going on with Isa. Maybe Nurse Marley will be a buffer.
I ignore Ned’s dig and instead tell him, “The gardeners will be here tomorrow. I’ll ask them to move the sofa bed into Isa’s nursery.”
“Good.” Ned picks at an imaginary piece of lint. He does this a lot, whenever his mind wanders.
“Sweetheart,” I say, snapping him to attention, “would you be kind enough to get another glass and pour me some wine?”
His brows shoot up. “You can drink wine, Ava? I thought that wasn’t allowed in your condition.”
I nod. “I can now, since I’m no longer breastfeeding.”
He plays with his empty wineglass, twirling the stem between his long, tapered fingers.
