Knock. Knock.
I didn’t want to scare Mrs. R and just go on in. This was her first week and she was still learning the ropes. In fact, I hoped Michael had reminded her to give Clementine only a small snack until I arrived.
There was no answer and I knocked again.
For some odd reason, I started to sweat even though it was cold outside.
The lock finally gave way and I felt a swoosh of relief. The door swung open and Mrs. R stood before me in her plain taupe pants, white blouse, and practical shoes. Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She was very proper. Like an English nanny. I both liked and disliked the idea of it. I wanted Clementine to have the freedom to express herself while understanding the rights and wrongs of the world. I wasn’t certain Mrs. R would allow for the former, but at least I knew I would.
She moved aside. “Good morning, Miss Sterling. Clementine has been waiting for you.”
I stepped inside. “How’s everything going with her?”
“Very well. Thank you for asking.”
I had the oddest feeling that I was like a stranger to her. Of course she didn’t know me, but still, she knew I was a part of Clementine’s life. When I’d first met her, I thought she would be ideal for Clementine, but maybe my state of mind wasn’t exactly in top shape then because today she seemed cool, aloof. It was as if she didn’t like me for some reason.
“Mommy!” Clementine called, barreling toward me at toddling speed with her juice cup in her hand.
“Don’t run,” Mrs. R warned, but her smile told me it was concern in her voice and not the need for obedience I’d heard in my father’s voice every day of my young life.
I dumped everything in my hands and bent down with my arms extended. When Clementine reached me, I scooped her up and kissed her. “Good morning, silly girl. How are you today?”
Her hands clasped my cheeks and she opened her mouth for another kiss. Open-mouthed kisses were her thing. She breathed on me and she smelled of Cheerios and orange juice. A scent I had grown to cherish.
I held her tightly, the wave of love I felt for her as powerful as blood. She might not have been mine, but I felt like she was. “Look, I have a new friend to join your others.” I set her down and handed her the stuffed elephant.
She giggled and threw her arms around the soft fur. “Rosie,” she beamed.
My heart leapt at how much she loved her new Rosie.
“Mrs. Sterling, would you like me to prepare her breakfast now?” Mrs. R asked.
Still in the foyer, I glanced around at how tidy everything was. In the family room, all the toys were in the toy chest, the board books were placed neatly on the shelf, and Clementine’s stuffed animals were nowhere in sight. “Oh, no, we do that together, but thank you. Did Traci come?”
She tidied her bun. “She came Monday and will come again tomorrow.”
“Oh, it’s just everything is so neat.”
Mrs. R’s eyes lit up. “Yes, Clementine and I did some straightening up of her things yesterday. They were in quite a disarray.”
Panic set in and I didn’t know how to stop it. “She has to be allowed to play,” I found myself saying, knowing I was being ridiculous.
“Mommy,” Clementine said again, but when my eyes darted down to hers she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking at Mrs. R.
A twinge of jealousy struck and it was followed by unreasonable disappointment.
Mrs. R bent to Clementine’s level. “Now sweetie, we discussed this. I’m Nanny and,” she pointed to me, “this is Aunt Elle.”
Clementine was oblivious to the entire conversation as she pretended to give Rosie some juice, but I could see in that moment that Mrs. R truly cared for her and that my tension was tainting my view of the situation.
“How about I bring Rosie upstairs to your room to join your other friends in our tea party and you go make breakfast with your aunt.”
She was correct. I was her aunt, not her mother.
I plastered a smile on my face and took Clementine’s hand. “Come on, let’s get those pancakes going.”
Mrs. R gently took my arm. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m trying to make the situation clear for her. We were in the park yesterday and she was calling every woman there ‘Mommy.’ I’m certain she misses her own mother and with no one constant woman in her life, she sees everyone as her mommy.”
The sucker punch came out of nowhere, but I knew it wasn’t intended to hurt me. Clementine did have a parade of women in her life. Nannies, housekeepers, Michael’s sister, me, but none were here all the time. “No, not at all. You did the right thing.”
Clementine and I went into the kitchen while Mrs. R left us alone and went upstairs. As always, I enjoyed my time with her. We made the batter, cooked the pancakes in the shape of princess tiaras, and then ate them with lots of syrup.