Friends and Strangers - J. Courtney Sullivan Page 0,7
start. Nurses came to her hospital room just to see the curls.
They all called Elisabeth Mom, and Andrew was Dad.
The first time it happened, the nurse was not much older than Sam.
“You should take three Motrin, Mom,” she said. And, “Mom, press the button if you need to get up. Don’t try to stand on your own yet.”
In her stupor, Elisabeth wondered whether the girl really thought she was her mother. Was she?
Later, Nomi told her nurses did this so they didn’t have to learn the names of parents they would know only for forty-eight hours. Elisabeth thought maybe it was also meant to help the parents catch up to what had happened, saying the words over and over, until they felt like the truth.
“What can I get you, Sam?” she said now. “Coffee? Pellegrino?”
“Nothing, thanks. I’m good.”
Sam kicked off her shoes.
“You don’t have to,” Elisabeth said, but the gesture pleased her. None of the others had thought to do it.
“I should wash my hands,” she said.
Elisabeth pointed at a narrow door. “Powder room.”
The handwashing seemed to take a long time. It felt odd, oppressive, to wait in the hall. Elisabeth went and sat down on the sofa.
The baby woke up from his nap.
“Hello, my love,” she whispered. “There’s a friend here to meet you.”
It occurred to her then that Sam wasn’t English.
When she came in, Gil was sitting, assisted, in Elisabeth’s lap, big blue eyes open wide.
Sam gasped.
“He’s beautiful,” she said, and Elisabeth loved her at once.
“Please,” she said. “Sit. Tell us about yourself. You said in your email that you were a nanny in London? So I thought—” She laughed.
“What?” Sam said.
“I guess I thought you’d have an accent.”
“Oh. No. Sorry. I was just there for the summer. I worked for a family with eighteen-month-old twins and a newborn. All boys.”
“Dear God.”
“It wasn’t as hard as it sounds,” Sam said. “I’ve been taking care of children my whole life. I’m the oldest of four, and I have nineteen younger cousins.”
“My goodness.”
“My mother never wanted me to babysit. She wanted me to get a waitressing job. She said it was more respectable. But I love working with kids.”
“I was a waitress for years. There’s nothing respectable about it, believe me,” Elisabeth said with a smile. She pushed the tray of pastries toward Sam. “What did you think of London? I’ve liked it there, the few times I’ve been.”
“I love it,” Sam said. “My boyfriend, Clive, is there. He’s English. I’m hoping to get back to see him as much as I can this year. It’s expensive, but his sister-in-law works for British Airways, so we can use her discount if we go standby.”
“Is Clive a student too?” Elisabeth asked.
“He—graduated.”
Elisabeth wanted to ask more, but she could hear Andrew’s voice in her head: Boundaries.
“What are you studying?” she said instead.
“I’m a Studio Art/English Lit double major. My dad likes to joke that he’s not sure which is the more useless degree. He wanted me to major in economics.”
“I’ve worked with a lot of former English majors,” Elisabeth said. “They turned out okay. Don’t worry.”
“What do you do?” Sam said. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Of course not. I’m a journalist. I was at the Times for twelve years.”
“How exciting.”
“It was.”
Elisabeth did not say that a year ago, she and half her friends had taken buyouts, rather than risk getting laid off six months later.
“Now I’m writing a book,” she said.
“That’s incredible. Is it your first?”
“My third.”
“Wow.”
“Do you know what you want to do after graduation?”
Sam looked embarrassed. “Since I was a kid, I’ve loved to paint. But that’s not a job, obviously.”
“It is for some people,” Elisabeth said.
“I’d love to work in a gallery, maybe teach someday,” Sam said. She straightened her posture. “Sorry. I should have mentioned, I have lots of infant experience. I’m CPR certified. I have great references here in town. I did a bunch of night and weekend sitting my first three years of school.”
“And three full days a week won’t interfere with your studies?”
“Senior year,” Sam said. “Not too strenuous. Besides, every other year, I had a campus job in the dining hall and built my classes around that, so I’m used to it.”
“Great,” Elisabeth said. She had a list of questions, but no idea where she’d put it. She felt like she should be asking more. She had gotten caught up in the pleasant conversation.
Sam looked around the room. “How long have you lived here?”