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“But Sophie did offer to pay for whatever their insurance won’t cover,” Neil told them.
“See,” Tony said, rising to come to Mom’s side and place a hand on her shoulder. “Your kid is doing the right thing.”
The doorbell rang. It would be Valerie and Laurence, with Olivia; only a few other people had gate privileges. Neil gestured frantically to the stove. “Rebecca, could you?”
“Sure thing. Go get that baby,” she ordered, and Neil smiled gratefully as he hurried off.
“I’m going with him,” I said, jerking my thumb toward the swinging door. It gave me an excuse to get away from any further discussion of my family and what I was apparently doing wrong about them. Besides, I’d really missed Olivia.
I caught up with Neil in the long windowed hallway to the foyer, but I had to jog a little, he was walking so fast.
“Hey, slow your roll. You’re going to be out of breath when you get there.” I beamed over at him. “She’s home!”
“And Mariposa doesn’t come back until Monday,” he reminded me. “So, be prepared.”
Oh, god. Bedtime. Bedtime was so much easier when it was the nanny’s doing.
We heard Olivia’s cranky whining before we even opened the door. Valerie stood outside, juggling a twisting, tantruming toddler on her hip while her driver stood behind her, laden down with baby luggage.
Valerie blew hair out of her face. “You need a butler, Neil.”
“We need as few people in our house and our business as possible,” I corrected her, reaching for Olivia. I hefted her into my arms and admonished, “Stop that.”
She lifted her tear-rimmed eyes and the heavy baggage beneath them to meet mine. Her white-blonde curls stuck flat to the back of her head with sweat. She tried valiantly to keep her fit going, but she was too happy to see me. A big smile displayed her tiny, unevenly spaced teeth, and she nuzzled her face against my neck.
“Too much Grandma, apparently,” Valerie said, and she sounded a bit sad.
“I’m sure that’s not it at all,” Neil said, sympathetic but probably a little triumphant, deep down. He wanted to be Olivia’s favorite.
“She hasn’t slept a full night…oh, since I picked her up on Saturday.” Valerie usually looked put-together and dressed-to-kill, but her hair was limp and unstyled, and she was actually wearing jeans. I think I’d only seen that once or twice the entire time I’d known her. Things had gone rough.
“Is she due for more teeth?” I asked Neil. He kept track of those things.
“I think perhaps so. Molars?” He took Olivia from me and lifted her up to kiss her red tear-stained cheek. “She does feel a bit hot.” Then, to Olivia, he cooed, “Did you miss Afi? Afi missed you.”
“I gave her the teething gel—” Valerie began.
I cut her off. “No. The teething gel doesn’t work. Nothing works. It’s just hell until the little sucker cuts through. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Thank you, Sophie, but I have done this before,” Valerie snapped.
We’d run into little bumps here and there over the fact that I had never raised a child and she had. This one, though, was just pure exhaustion, judging from the tired lines on her face.
“Valerie, you look awful,” I said, realizing too late that it wasn’t a great opener. I hurried to add, “I know how you feel. Why don’t you stay for dinner with us? And if you’re too tired to go back to the city, you can crash here.”
Because I’m sure she’d just love to stay overnight at the house of the ex-lover it had taken her twenty-plus years to get over.
Maybe I wasn’t as full of good ideas as I thought I was.
At the mention of dinner, Neil blanched. “God, I left your mother in charge of the kitchen.”
“Go on,” I told him, but stopped him before he ran off with the baby in his arms. She watched him go with trepidation but didn’t let out the howl I’d expected.
“I would be happier just going home and sleeping for fourteen hours,” Valerie said, rubbing her eyes. “Tell Neil goodbye for me.”
“Of course.” I repositioned Olivia on my hip and leaned her forward. “Say bye-bye to Grandma,” I told her.
Valerie took Olivia’s face between her hands and kissed her forehead, nose, and each cheek. “I’ll see you soon, my love.”
The thing about kids was that if you loved them, you were still happy to get rid of them, sometimes. But it was hard to be happy walking away. Valerie lingered with a hand on Olivia’s hair and longing look. I knew it killed her that she lived so far away; even her Manhattan residence was too far for her liking.
“You should come for a cookout, soon,” I offered. “You and Laurence.”
“We’ll have to schedule something,” she said noncommittally. They never really came out, unless it was Olivia related.
