The Doctor's Fake Nanny(27)

I searched my brain for an answer but there was nothing. There was nothing I could say to explain this all away.





Chapter Sixteen


David



I should have known. From almost the moment she walked into my house  without ever receiving an invitation to enter, I should have known that  there was more to it than what she was telling me. I just didn't have  time to sort through the details.



She was clearly so good with Sophie and I needed a nanny. I needed the  help that I couldn't seem to ask for. That was the reason at first. But  then I got to know her and I didn't want to discover any secrets or  skeletons in the closet. I wanted her. I wanted her to stay and nothing  else mattered.



Except that it did. Standing in that hospital hallway where I spent so  much of my time, I looked at Kayla and finally realized where I knew her  from. The nurse was right. My mother had been right, one of the hardest  things of all for me to admit. She didn't just have the kind of face  that people felt they knew. We had recognized her because she had spent  day after day in the hospital with her sister. Her sister who had died  under my care.



"Kayla? Do you even hear me?"



She just stood there looking at me like a deer in the headlights with  wide, frightened eyes. She was so devastatingly beautiful, everything I  had ever wanted. Or I had thought she was everything I wanted. The  version of herself she had presented to me was. Now I wasn't sure who  she was. I wasn't sure of anything.



"Kayla. Say something."



"I don't know what to say, David. I never meant for things to go this way. I didn't expect any of this."



The way she said it dashed the last bit of hope I had. I knew it was  beyond naive, but part of me was still holding onto the crazy idea that  maybe it had been one massive coincidence, that she hadn't remembered me  either and she really had just needed a job. It was stupid to even  think it and it was clearly false.



I didn't need her to say anything else to know that. It was written all  over her face, the guilt of what she had done. I felt a sick, dull rage  bubbling just below the surface of my skin. The rest of me just felt  numb. The only thing I knew for sure was that I couldn't look at her  anymore.



"I want you to go."



"Oh, David, please, don't. Don't send me away."

"Don't? You are not in a position to tell me what to do. You don't get  to do that. I want you to go. I don't want to look at you right now. I  need time to think about what this means, to formulate my thoughts and  calm down. I'm not saying that I won't talk to you about this, but not  right now. If I have to keep looking at you right now I don't know what  will happen."



I knew I sounded threatening and that Kayla was afraid of the way I was  speaking to her. She took one small step forward, her eyes entirely  glazed over with tears she was fighting not to shed, but stopped when  she saw how serious I was. And I was. Usually I was able to keep a  pretty firm grip over myself but I didn't trust myself with this. This  was a level of anger I hadn't felt since Mikey died and my mother swept  him under the rug like he had never existed at all. There was no  question that I needed her out of here. Immediately.



"I'm sorry," she whispered in a hoarse voice that almost made me go to  her despite what I had just learned. But no. She wasn't who I thought  she was. Not anymore.



"I bet you are."



I gave her one last look and then turned and left her standing there all  alone. I could hear her begin to sob but I couldn't turn around. I  didn't want to be anywhere near her.



I slammed into my office and shut the door with a bang that rattled the  pictures on my walls, then sat and rested my head in my hands, propping  myself up on the ridiculously large desk I hadn't really wanted in the  first place. On top of everything that had just blown up right in my  face I knew it was only a matter of time before my mother caught wind of  the situation, and there was not a chance in hell that she was going to  be sympathetic.



***



"Knock, knock."



I had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been five minutes  or two hours. Either one would have felt the same to me. I kept waiting  for what had happened to sink in and feel real, but it just wasn't  happening. It felt like some kind of awful prank and any minute now it  would all be taken back and things would go back to being good. Except  that I knew that wasn't possible.                       
       
           



       



I remembered seeing her here now. Now that I had heard someone else make  the connection I couldn't make myself forget it, no matter how badly I  wanted to. And now my mother was standing at my door. Fantastic. Fucking  fantastic.



"Yes."



"David? Are you in there?"



It was a stupid question and I had to bite my tongue to keep from  telling her so. Was I in there? How in the hell could I be answering her  if I wasn't? I could already tell this conversation was going to go  poorly, I just couldn't see any way to get myself out of it.



"Yes, Mother, I'm in here. What can I do for you?"



"Can I come in?"



"Sure, why not?"



True to form, she wouldn't tell me what the visit was about until she  was already safely locked inside with me, trapping me like a rat on a  long sea voyage. Not that I really needed her to explain anything.  Anyone who believes that gossip is a torture reserved for the young is  fooling themselves. It never goes away. Any place where the same group  of people congregated habitually you will find people talking shit about  each other. The hospital was just as bad as any other place, maybe  worse, and there was absolutely no doubt that she was coming about  Kayla.



How long had the nurses waited before running to her side and whispering  my very public discovery in my mother's ear? Were they trying to  impress her or were they just bored? Either way, now she was here and I  couldn't get away from it. No matter what I did, I couldn't get away  from what I had learned. She strode casually across my office floor and  sat in one of the chairs usually reserved for my patients' families.



She looked so elegant, so poised and indifferent that it made me want to  scream. Couldn't she show a little bit of concern, for Christ's sake?  Couldn't she at least pretend not to be relishing the idea of saying ‘I  told you so'? I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the very beginning of a  killer migraine coming on. I just wanted to get this over with so I  could go back to being alone. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Not just  yet.



"So, David, how are you? How have things been going lately? You know, with the patients, the staff, that sort of thing."



Jesus, was she for real? I wanted to just throw my hands up in the air  and throw her right back out again but I knew that wasn't really an  option. She was the head of my department, after all. Not to mention she  was my mother. She may not have had a maternal bone in her body but  that didn't change the fact that she was my mom. She was also pretty  demanding and I didn't think that just ignoring her until she gave up  and went away was an option.



"Fine, Mother. They're all fine. Everything seems to be progressing just as it should."



"Oh?" she asked with raised eyebrows., "Does it? Then perhaps I've been  misinformed. I suppose it's always possible, what with the incompetence  of the people running around these hallways."



"They're employees of the hospital, Mom. They're just as important as we are to making it run."



"Mother. Don't call me mom, you know I detest that. And don't be  ridiculous, they aren't anywhere near as important as we are. That's why  it's so unsettling to be given any kind of information from them about  my own son."



My head was pounding like there was a little man running around inside  beating the sides of my skull like a gong. This was not happening. If it  were at all possible I would will this to stop happening.



"What is it? What are you trying to get at, Mother?"



"Where's the nanny, David? I heard she was with you today. Or, excuse me, is she your girlfriend now? Is she both?"



"Stop it."



"Stop what? I'm just asking questions. Can't a mother ask questions about her son?"



She looked so completely smug that it made me want to scream. Yes, it  might be perfectly normal for a mom to ask her sons questions about  himself, but that would be assuming that the relationship between them  was normal. Our was not.



My mother never asked about me, not unless it was because she wanted  something or because I had managed to earn her disapproval. I was pretty  clear on which one had warranted this particular visit. I could take  it, too. What I couldn't take was this little game she was playing. That  was pushing me further than I was willing to go.