and some chips and half a crushed granola bar on the train were hardly a meal. “That sounds great.”
“Good,” Paisley says, releasing my hand for the first time since we stepped outside and tilting her head back to look me straight in the eyes. “Because it’s almost my bedtime, and I’m starving.”
I smile down at her, and I know I made the right choice this summer, despite my mother’s empty protests that she needed me at home for reasons she couldn’t define, despite Kaylee’s decree that I’ve abandoned her. If she wants to give anyone shit for leaving, it should be Starr. She’s been in Orlando for months now, and without her around to match my best friend’s thirst for the next party, next high, next adventure, all the pressure to keep up with Kaylee has fallen to me. On nights we’re not drinking, it’s pills pilfered from my mom’s stash or vaping with Mike and Ian. Before Starr left, I used to hole up at home and recharge for days at a time. But with just Kay and me, there’s been something frenetic in the air, charged and ready to spark. The last months of senior year were a hazy, thrilling blaze—but they were also exhausting.
Now that I’m here, I barely miss Bay Ridge. I dig my nails into my palms and try not to think about the unopened bottle of Roca Patrón in the Bellamys’ kitchen. I am going to be the best nanny—au pair—Paisley’s ever had. The old skin I couldn’t shed fast enough is as good as gone, cast off in a dirty heap outside the Atlantic Terminal back in Brooklyn. That girl can’t touch me here; I’m different already.
3 THEN
June
Herron Mills, NY
WE SPREAD OUT our blanket on the white sand, and immediately Paisley vaults into the water. “She’s a strong swimmer,” Emilia assured me over breakfast, before dropping us off for the day. Her arms were impressively toned in a sleeveless silk V-neck, and her skin had a dewy, well-moisturized glow. I wondered if she always looked this polished at 8:00 a.m. “You have to keep an eye on her, but you don’t have to get in.”
Which is a good thing, because even lathered up with SPF 50, the sun will burn me to a crisp in no time. Like her father, Paisley is already tan, something my skin just doesn’t do. I position myself on my stomach in full shade beneath the Bellamys’ red-and-white-striped beach umbrella, chin propped on my hands to get a clear view of Paisley splashing around in the surf. The beach is small—another surprise—long, but narrow, and it’s easy to keep her in sight. In under five minutes, Paisley’s found a friend, a tall, red-haired girl. They seem to know each other, presumably from school. I catch snippets of their conversation, something about sand crabs and Moana.
I take a deep breath in, and my lungs fill with the salt air I’ve been craving since I was offered the position last month. Here, finally, is my fine sea mist. My thin gull cries. Blue water lapping at white sand. It’s crowded, but in an exclusive, permit-only kind of way, nothing like the busy city beaches Kaylee and I used to haunt on long summer afternoons.
Under the umbrella, I free my hair from its elastic and let it blow free, then plop an oversize sun hat on my head. Can’t be too careful. I accepted Emilia’s offer of a couple magazines to bring along, but I’m too nervous to take my eyes off Paisley. What if she runs off when I’m reading about this summer’s hostessing trends? I’m reassured to see lifeguards stationed every few yards, but it’s my first day nannying. I’m not taking any risks.
I keep my eyes trained on Paisley but can’t stop my mind from wandering. The Bellamys’ lives seem so effortless. Tom does whatever makes him his millions in the city while Emilia runs her graphic design business from her home studio. They’re both pursuing their passions; they have this beautiful kid and a beautiful house minutes from the beach. It’s everything I never had growing up in Bay Ridge with Mom. She’s a tech at a medical lab part time, but they can’t give her enough hours, so she cleans apartments too. The work hurts her back, so she takes too much Oxy, Demerol, Vicodin … the stream of pills is endless. I used to be thankful she was too out of it to care when