The Bookish Life of Nina Hill - Abbi Waxman Page 0,10

her head like Phil did when she put drops in his ears. “My family?”

The lawyer patted her on the arm, and she was too weirded out to even bridle. “I’m sorry, I had no idea your paternity would be news to you.” A momentary expression of judgment crossed his face, and Nina spoke.

“My mother clearly didn’t think Mr. Reynolds would have been a good father.”

Another expression crossed Sarkassian’s face, though this one was harder to read.

“Well, she may have been right. It was a long time ago. Here’s my card—my office address is on it—and we’ll be in touch with details of the will reading.” He paused. “In the meantime, I’m afraid you may be hearing from your brother and sisters. I had to let them know about you, because they wanted to know why the will reading had to wait.”

Nina stared at him. “My what now?”

“Your brother and sisters.”

“I have a brother and sisters?”

He coughed. “I’m afraid your father was married three times.”

“Just not to my mother.”

“Right.” He nodded. “But to other women. You actually have three sisters and a brother, two nephews and two nieces, and two great-nieces and a great-nephew. Plus two stepmothers still living, though you don’t need those, I imagine.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve asked one of your nephews, Peter Reynolds, to get in touch and explain the whole family to you, because it’s complicated and he’s the only one everyone is always talking to.”

Nina stared at him. “I’m sorry, but can I pretend you never told me? I don’t really want any more people in my life. I’ve done fine without them for nearly thirty years.” She felt her breathing start to get shallow and willed herself to slow it down so she wouldn’t hyperventilate and topple to the ground.

The lawyer had clearly not considered this option and looked puzzled. “Mr. Reynolds was an extremely wealthy man, and the fact that you’re a beneficiary means he presumably left you something of value.”

Nina tried to focus. “Well, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but unless it’s a butt load of money, I really don’t care. I’m not sure I care even if it is a butt load of money.”

“Of course you do,” said the lawyer. “Everyone cares about money.” Again with the watch. “I have to go. Peter will contact you shortly. None of them were very thrilled to hear about you, I’m afraid. Except Peter.”

“He’s supportive of illegitimate children?”

Sarkassian turned to leave. “He’s an anthropologist.”

Four

In which Nina observes other people

and talks to her mother.

Well, obviously after that kind of news, Nina walked out of the store and wandered the streets sightless with shock, rending the air with lamentation. Actually, she went back to work, because they had Preschooler Reading Hour that afternoon and she was nominally in charge. Life will throw you major curveballs, but it’s rare you can do much more than duck.

Liz was not a lover of children, describing them as sticky little book-chuckers, so the store’s schedule of kid activities was Nina’s to run. She took it seriously, and had developed quite a program:

Baby and Parent Reading Time: In this activity, which happened three mornings a week, newborns and lap babies lay like slugs while the parents listened to an impoverished young actor read to them. To be fair, most of these parents were basically asleep with their eyes open, and the babies often rolled off their laps onto the Reading Is Cool rug. The actor was usually hoping at least one of the parents was an agent or something, and ever since one reader had been plucked from obscurity to star in a pilot that actually went somewhere, there had been a waiting list to read. Nina did her best to keep things fair, but she had been known to succumb to bribery (See’s Candies were her weakness, in case you’re wondering).

Preschooler Reading Hour: Three-to-five-year-olds and nannies, throwing books around (the kids, not the nannies), with the nannies doing the reading, and extremely popular. Firstly because the nannies could relax and chat a bit, and secondly because parents could say, oh, the nanny takes Aubergine and Salamander to reading hour every day, and feel better about preferring to be at work with people who knew how to use a fork. Daily, at three thirty.

Elementary Book Club: This was Nina’s pet project. Larchmont was a neighborhood filled with kids, and the girls in particular were very Big on Books. The boys were, too; they just preferred