The first day of her two-week notice unfolded with an unexpected tranquility. A serene atmosphere settled around the nanny as the two little girls, vibrant and bright like Diamonds Dancing in the sunlight, presented their crayon masterpieces.
“What do you think, Lovey?” Janessa asked with earnest eyes, her drawing thrust forward for closer inspection. “Be honest! It’s okay if you think it’s a dinosaur with giant feet, because that’s what it’s supposed to be.”
Her brown hair, the color of soft earth, flowed freely around her face, framing a scattering of freckles. Her clear glasses, perpetually threatening to slide off her nose, perched precariously as usual.
Still in their pajamas, reveling in the freedom of the weekend, the girls embraced the leisurely morning. Their plans, delightfully simple, involved nothing more than enjoying each other’s company.
Rika considered the artwork – a green dinosaur sporting comically oversized, bright red boots. A smile tugged at her lips; there was an undeniable charm in its childish imperfection. “Sweetheart, you can’t tell me what it is before I even get to guess. That takes all the fun out of it.”
“Oopsies, my bad. I got too excited.” Her guilty grin widened, making Rika chuckle. Janessa tilted her head, a picture of playful defeat. “Lia, your turn!”
Lilia, a whirlwind of blonde energy, bounced from her spot on the floor, waving her own creation. “Yes, my turn! Look at mine!”
She presented her paper with a flourish. This drawing was, to put it mildly, intriguing. The five-year-old, bless her heart, had attempted to capture a prince and princess soaring on a magic carpet.
“Hmm,” Rika mused, feigning contemplation. “Something tells me this might be inspired by the magic carpet scene from the movie playing in the background. Just a wild guess, though.” She delivered the line with playful nonchalance.
The animated film had become Lilia’s current obsession, its melodies and vibrant scenes filling their days.
A gap-toothed smile beamed back at her. “Wow, Lovey. You’re really good at this game.”
Then, Lilia clambered onto the sofa, burrowing under the plush blanket, inviting the nanny to join her in their cozy haven.
“Hey, you too, missy.” Rika gently pulled Janessa, who was momentarily lost in the television’s glow, to join them under the blanket’s warmth.
Snuggled close, the girls’ soft giggles punctuated the television’s soundtrack. These moments, though not every weekend occurrence, were cherished respites after busy weeks filled with school and extracurricular activities. Rika admired their resilience; Monday to Friday, these young, capable children rose each morning, brushed their teeth, dressed themselves, and even prepared their school bags.
Weekends, therefore, were for embracing leisure, for allowing their youthful spirits to simply be.
“My head hurts,” Lilia whispered, her small voice drawing Rika’s attention back to the blonde bundle nestled in her arms.
“It does?” Rika responded softly, concern coloring her tone. She gently placed a hand on Lilia’s forehead, detecting a subtle but unmistakable warmth rising from her skin.
A slight wince crossed her face. “I think you might be catching a cold.” A premonition flickered within her, a sense of urgency that propelled her to gently disentangle herself from the blanket.
“Ca-Can you stay with me?” Lilia pleaded, a hint of fear and vulnerability in her voice, the thought of being left alone amplifying her discomfort.
“Of course, sweetheart, I just need to get some medicine for you first,” Rika reassured her, a note of regret in her voice at having to leave her side, even momentarily. “Jan, you’ll look after your sister, won’t you?”
“Sure,” Janessa murmured, her attention still captivated by the unfolding drama on the screen.
Gathering the blanket, Rika gently re-wrapped it around both girls, encouraging them to snuggle together for warmth and comfort.
Lilia’s gaze, tinged with green and glistening with unshed tears, met hers. Her lower lip trembled into a pout. “Hurry back,” she whispered, her babyish pronunciation of “hurry” as “huwwy” tugging at Rika’s heartstrings.
“Great,” Rika muttered under her breath once she left the living room, a wave of guilt washing over her. Even amidst the relief of her impending career change, the innocent faces of these children lingered in her thoughts.
How am I going to leave them? The question echoed in her mind, a discordant note in her otherwise liberating decision. The thought of departing without a proper explanation, leaving a void in their young lives, troubled her deeply.
Entering the kitchen, she began a quiet search through the cabinets. The house, prepared for every eventuality, was stocked with medicine in nearly every room, a testament to allergies and sudden childhood ailments. Emergency first-aid kits and remedies were readily available.
Locating the necessary medicine, she decided that a comforting bowl of chicken soup would be the perfect remedy. She was mid-stir when the kitchen door creaked open. Barely ten minutes had passed, yet already, her solitude was interrupted.
Without turning, knowing instinctively who the intruder would be, she sighed gently. “Lilly girl, I’m making you soup so you can feel better. Go back to the movie, I won’t be long.”
“I don’t feel so good,” a small whine drifted through the air, followed by the door swinging open further.
“I know you don’t, that’s why I’m trying to be super quick. I promise I’ll come back and give you big cuddles if you can be a good girl for me and go back to the living room.”
Janessa tried to get Rika’s attention, her small voice struggling to cut through the kitchen sounds. “Lovey, I don’t think Lilly is feeling well. She said she was fuzzy, and her arms felt tingly.”
“Tingly?” A knot of worry tightened in Rika’s stomach. This was more than just a cold.
Before she could probe further, a loud thud reverberated from the living room, followed by a series of choking gasps.
Rika’s eyes widened in alarm. The clatter of metal hitting the floor was lost in the sudden surge of panic. Her focus narrowed instantly to the child who needed her.
“Lilia? What’s wrong, darling?” Rika rushed back into the living room, her voice laced with concern. She gently took Lilia’s small arms, pulling her towards her as she knelt beside her.
Janessa followed close behind, tugging urgently at Rika’s dress, a terrified yelp escaping her lips. “Lovey! She needs to go to the hospital! Daddy says she needs to go when she starts shaking like that!”
Hysteria edged Janessa’s voice, fear for her younger sister mirroring a past trauma. The last time she had witnessed such a scene, it had ended with Lilia in a hospital bed, their parents anxiously by her side.
A seizure. The realization struck Rika with chilling clarity. Lilia was experiencing an epileptic seizure.
Instinct took over. Rika gently maneuvered Lilia onto her side, ensuring her airway remained clear. She knew not to restrain the movements, to let the seizure run its course. Turning to Janessa, she spoke with a calm authority that belied the urgency of the situation.
“Go and get your father, now.” A clear, concise instruction, designed not to frighten but to mobilize. Even as she spoke, her hand instinctively reached into her pocket for her phone, her fingers already dialing the universal emergency number.
“You’re going to be okay, Lilly. You’re going to be fine,” she murmured, a promise whispered into the chaotic moment, phone pressed to her ear.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
As Rika opened her mouth to articulate the unfolding crisis, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the tense atmosphere.
Expecting to see her boss, Slater, appear, she frowned in confusion when Janessa returned alone, her face etched with worry.
“Daddy’s not home,” she said, the weight of the situation heavy in her young voice. “And there’s lots of paparazzi outside today.”
As if the day wasn’t already challenging enough, she now faced the prospect of navigating a medical emergency involving celebrity children, in the full glare of the public eye, without their father present. The thought of facing the paparazzi in such a vulnerable moment sent a fresh wave of anxiety through her.
• • •
By the time Slater arrived at the hospital, a throng of paparazzi had descended, swarming the entrance and surrounding areas. He struggled to process the day’s events as a nurse, her smile tight but reassuring, guided him to a private room.
He had been in the recording studio when the frantic phone call came. He couldn’t recall the last time Lilia had experienced a seizure this severe. It was the call every parent dreads – the news that their child is unconscious and in the emergency room.
Opening the door, the blonde nurse offered a comforting nod. “Your little girl is asleep but she is completely fine. We’re still monitoring her to ensure she remains stable. We’re managing the press as quickly as possible so you and your family can have the privacy you need. Your family is waiting inside.”
Lilia’s small form, swallowed by the vast hospital bed, pierced his heart with pain. He simply nodded, words failing him. Hooked to machines, pale and fragile in the sterile environment – a dark bruise marring the side of her face.
Fuck, she must’ve fallen hard.
He mentally berated himself for his absence, for not being there to prevent this. He should have stayed home.
The room was empty. He dismissed it as a momentary absence as he walked directly to Lilia’s bedside. He gently stroked her soft skin, bending to press a kiss to her forehead. “My strong girl.”
When the sassy retort he usually received remained absent, his steady hand sought hers, their fingers interlacing. He kissed each tiny finger, swallowing against the lump forming in his throat.
Slater’s voice, husky with emotion, resonated in the quiet room. “I know you’re still upset with Daddy right now, but he’s sorry,” he murmured, maneuvering to sit in the armchair beside the bed. “He’s really sorry, and he promises he’ll make it up to you if you just open your eyes and show him you’re okay.”
He settled into the chair, maintaining his hold on her hand, his gaze fixed on her still face. “Really, nothing? Not even a little peek?”
Her eyes remained closed, clearly lost in sleep, oblivious to her father’s heartfelt plea.
He sighed again, a sound heavy with unspoken emotion. “What am I going to do with you?” The question, directed at no one in particular, dissolved into the quiet contemplation of his thoughts.
She had terrified him. The frantic race across Manhattan to reach her bedside replayed in his mind. Usually, he could detect the subtle signs preceding a seizure – a grogginess, a slowness, a complaint of feeling “fuzzy” or a headache.
Her mother had always possessed an uncanny ability to sense an impending episode. He, however, had been less vigilant, less attuned to the subtle shifts in her demeanor. He hadn’t noticed the telltale signs.
“-That was really good, Nessie, well done. I’m so proud of you.”
“No, it wasn’t. You’re just saying that. I know they couldn’t hear me, and I didn’t want to shout. I’m scared they will laugh at me.”
Turning towards the sound, Slater saw the door open, revealing Janessa and Rika, each holding pots of chocolate pudding. Janessa was in conversation with the nanny, a hint of distress in her voice.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I know it’s scary, but you have to try a little harder, like we practiced. Otherwise, you’ll always be scared. No one will laugh at you, darling. Not when I’m right next to you.”
Janessa chewed her lip, her brow furrowed with worry. “So, I did well?” she asked, her voice laced with hope.
“You did amazing. Who else would be brave enough to order four pudding pots all by themselves? Now, why don’t you go give your sister hers?” Rika gently directed her towards the bed, a warm smile gracing her lips. But as her gaze met Slater’s, the smile softened, losing some of its previous warmth.
Janessa spotted her father and hurried towards him. “Daddy, you’re here! Sissy fell on the floor and banged her head really hard. We were so scared!” she cried, her small body seeking comfort in his embrace.
Slater lifted her onto his lap, Janessa offering the pudding pots for him to place on the bedside table before burying her face in his chest.
“I heard,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head, his eyes fixed on Rika, who stood hesitantly by the doorway. “I also heard you were looking after her while she was asleep.” His voice, calm and steady, seemed to anchor the room, drawing them back to the present moment.
Rika seemed compelled to respond. “It was Janessa’s idea to get chocolate pudding. She knows it’s Lilia’s favorite. Here, she got you one too.” She approached the bed, stopping on the opposite side. Extending her hand, she offered him a pudding pot and a spoon.
He disliked chocolate pudding, but he accepted the offering, his fingers brushing hers in the exchange. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He placed the pot beside the others. The sound of rustling plastic drew his attention back to Rika. She was already digging her spoon into her own chocolate pudding. Sensing his gaze, a blush warmed her pale cheeks.
She swallowed a mouthful before speaking. “Sorry.” The apology was brief, almost reflexive.
After a beat of silence, he raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I don’t like chocolate. You can have mine.”
Without hesitation, she wrinkled her nose, a playful grimace forming on her face. “Why am I not surprised?” Still, she reached over, waiting for him to hand over the unwanted pudding.
Silence descended again as she ate, the unspoken tension in the room palpable. They were both acutely aware of the elephant in the room – the two-week notice.
Rika stole glances at him, and when their eyes met for the umpteenth time, she offered him her full attention. There was an unreadable quality in Slater’s gaze, something that made her pause, waiting. Softly, she prompted, “If there’s something you would like to say, feel free to say it.”
He rolled his eyes, a hint of his usual dry humor breaking through the tension. “You have chocolate on your forehead.” Blunt, direct, and undeniably Slater. Janessa giggled from his lap.
“Lovey, you’re silly.”
“Yeah, so silly…” Rika echoed dryly, hastily wiping at her forehead, cursing the heat rising in her cheeks.
She could have sworn she saw the faintest quirk at the corners of his lips.
She was here for Lilia, not him, she reminded herself sternly.
Thirteen days, three hundred and twelve hours, and eighteen thousand seven hundred and twenty minutes remained until she was officially free from his… well, from this chapter of her life.
Not that she was counting, of course.
