Mona smoothed a hand down her long-sleeved, flower-print dress that brought out the blue in her eyes. Strands of loose white curls had come undone at her temples. She was older than she’d sounded on the phone.
“Yes, I am, but you can call me Kate.”
She nodded. “Come in.”
As my shoes clicked on the beige marble floor, I peered up at the high ceiling. A crystal chandelier with teardrop pendants glistened against the sunlight beaming through the window. Farther in, I admired the sweeping staircase with a festive garland curling around the handrail, then the giant Christmas tree decorated with silver ornaments dominating the foyer.
“Please, follow me.” Mona led the way as I continued to marvel.
The family room was three times the size of Abby’s. A smaller Christmas tree was stationed in the corner with a few presents under it. Across the mantel stretched a paper garland made from a cutout of a child’s handprints. My heart tugged at the sentimental touch.
I realized then that I never asked how many children I would be watching over, and there were no photos of the family displayed in this room. Perhaps in another room? Also, there were no toys. In Abby’s house, Tyler’s toys and books were always scattered about. But then again, Abby didn’t have a nanny or a huge house to set boundaries.
“This is the family room,” Mona said. “Let me show you the other rooms.”
We strolled into the kitchen—my dream kitchen—with white cabinets and cream granite counters. All stainless steel and state of the art appliances, top quality no doubt.
“It’s lovely.” Not a spot stained the stove. I wondered if they had a side kitchen.
“Come, come.”
Mona escorted me to the guest room and an office with only a bookcase and a desk. I eyed every fixture, every space. Again, no photos of the family. So strange. But the painting hanging ... I went closer.
Mona cleared her throat to get my attention.
“Sorry. Did you say something?” I asked.
“No, but you’ve been staring at the painting. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Dreamy clouds backed by the day sky hung over the glistening ocean. It reminded me of Kauai.
“Yes, it is.” I always appreciated the work of a talented painter.
Then we climbed the stairs. She skipped the master bedroom, but showed me other bedrooms and bathrooms
The last bedroom contained all-white furniture: the bed frame, desk, bookcase, and the dressers. A pink unicorn comforter blanketed the bed and a giant stuffed unicorn with a rainbow-colored horn sat in the opposite corner. On the bed were two more stuffed unicorns, and pink and white throw pillows. We both loved unicorns, so I had that in common with this child already.
“I just want to make sure—there’s only one daughter, correct?” I asked from the doorway. “I should’ve asked you how many children in this household before.”
“Yes. This room belongs to Roselyn.” Mona opened the shutters to let in a flood of sunlight on the hardwood floor, across the white rug, and onto the marble bathroom floor.
I furrowed my brow. “Roselyn? Does she attend Poipu preschool?”
I’d gotten the phone number from the board, but maybe the parents put the number in all preschools. I would if I were desperate to find one quickly.
“Yes. She’s four years old, soon to be five. A very sweet, lovely girl.”
One child, about Tyler’s age. How bad could it be, right?
“Let me show you the backyard.” She went past the hall, down the stairs, and through the kitchen.
“Wow,” I muttered under my breath.
The front yard was breathtaking with the view of the ocean, but the backyard was another island on its own.
Palms trees lined either side of the walkway. A three-tiered gray stone fountain gurgled in the center. Past a garden of Hawaiian flowers was a grand swimming pool with manmade boulders and a super cool water slide.
Tyler would love to swim here.
“It feels like a whole new world out here.” I followed Mona alongside a dining table with a fire pit in the middle. “I love the built-in barbeque,” I said.
Then I followed her under an awning, past a set of sofas with outdoor pillows, and between a pool table and a ping pong table.
“You can vacation here instead of going to a resort.” I chuckled.
“This is very true. Come. I forgot to show you one more place.”
She took me to a room next to the kitchen. The bed was made, but the cell phone on the nightstand and the robe on the bed suggested someone slept there.
“This is my room. Nobody touches my room.” She gave me a pointed look. “If you were offered the position, you’d be sleeping in the other spare room. Come.”
Wait. What? Sleeping in the other spare room? Had I heard her correctly? I wanted to ask her questions but she hurried along.
We scurried through the kitchen to the other side, near the garage and closer to the front door. This room was just as nice as hers. It also had an adjoining bathroom and a spacious closet.
I’d be sleeping in this room, she said, so the family was looking for a live-in nanny. Watching the child was one thing, but having to take care of one twenty-four/seven was another.
Standing on the threshold I asked, “I don’t know—did you require—did you request a live-in nanny? I don’t remember.”
She tilted her head and fluttered her eyelashes. “I don’t recall. It’s only for two weeks, so you might not be required to stay every night. The parents might be home on some days. And Roselyn is easy to care for. She’s truly a joy.”
“What are my duties?”
“Give her snacks. Spend time with her. Read her stories. Make and feed her dinner. Give her baths. Not much to it.”
“What about taking her to and picking her up after school?”
“The family driver does that.”
Lucky little girl.
I leaned back on the doorframe. It was only for two weeks. While she was at preschool, I could paint and help Abby at the gallery.
“You’ll get paid four thousand,” she added, and squeezed past me into the hall.
“Excuse me?” I rushed after her.
“Did you want more?” She halted by the sweeping staircase and squinted as if disappointed.
I flashed a glance at the towering Christmas tree and said, “Oh, no. I-I didn’t know if you were offering me the position. Wait, are you?”
This woman was confusing.
She met my eyes with a stern gaze. “Yes, I am offering it to you, or else I wouldn’t be showing you the house.”
“But you don’t know anything about me. I didn’t even give you my resumé.” Why was I trying not to get hired? Four thousand dollars was a lot of money for two weeks. Maybe I should change professions.
She crossed her arms. “Kate, I need to find someone fast. And I know enough about you. My sister is a retired cop, and my younger brother is one currently. I asked them to look you up for me. I learned enough to know you can be trusted, and from this interview, you seem like a nice lady.”
I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and dipped my head a little. “Well, thank you.”
“To tell you the truth, I’ve interviewed a handful of nannies already.” Mona walked back toward the foyer. “Either they were too old, too young, or my gut told me they weren’t the one. It’s a small island and the pool of suitable people is not large.”