The thought of her disappearing from that house punches at my gut. It’s selfish, I know. I don’t want her stuck there, but she won’t be released to go back to where she came from. As long as she’s inside those walls, at least I can keep watch. And keep her close.
TWENTY-ONE
HALINA
It’s an hour before midnight and the relentless arguing hasn’t ceased for even a moment between Ada and Heinrich. All the thrashing comments are futile and senseless.
I’ve done everything possible to get the girls to fall asleep, but Flora is screaming in my arms, kicking her legs and squeezing her hands into little fists. Marlene is sitting up against her headboard, hands cupping her ears, and Isla is standing in front of the dressing mirror between their two bureaus. She’s tugging on her hair, studying it as if she’s looking for something hard to find. I’m still not sure what the argument is even about, but from what I’ve seen, they fight more than they speak civilly to one another.
I don’t know how Julia managed so many of us at the same time. She always seemed so calm, as if nothing bothered her. Even if someone were having a fit, she’d continue brushing or braiding my hair, humming in my ear with a smile I could hear. She’d kiss me on the head and whisper goodnight, then move on to share her love with the next girl. Before she finished with everyone’s braids, whoever was having a fit settled down and found their way to bed. I looked at Julia as if she was magical sometimes. I don’t have the same magic inside of me, eventhough she might say I do. The panic shivering through my veins only continues to grow stronger.
“Do you even care that I’m with child? Perhaps a boy who will carry on your name?”
Following Ada’s shout, Isla’s reflecting stare shifts to the bedroom door.
Flora takes a moment to catch her breath, her lips still pursed into a pout as she sucks in bouts of air. “Shh, shh, it’s all right,” I coo to her and make my way over to Isla. “Is something wrong?” Everything is wrong. Her parents have been fighting for hours and if it wasn’t clear to her before, her father is desperate for a son.
“No,” she snaps. “It’s unfortunate I wasn’t born as a boy.”
“That’s not true,” I tell her. “If the world was made up of only boys, there would be no more children.” I realize I might be starting a conversation I don’t want to get into at this hour, but it’s true. Women are just as important as men despite what anyone thinks or says.
“Papa might be happy without any more children,” she says.
“I’m sure that’s not true either.”
That man hates himself too much to love anyone.
“I want them to stop shouting at each other. I’m tired,” she says.
“Another little miracle,” Heinrich shouts. “Is that it? I should be thankful we have another child coming into the world when we can’t shut up the last one?”
“See?” Isla says.
“You can come up to the attic and stay with me. Would that be all right?”
Isla looks unsure and Marlene is still holding her hands over her ears. I’m not sure Ada or Heinrich would agree to that idea, but they must allow their poor children to sleep.
I reposition Flora, pressing her tummy to my chest as I continue rocking her while walking down the stairwell toward the family room where the battle has been taking place.
My heart pounds, which will upset Flora, so I try to take a deep breath before reaching the bottom of the steps.
Sweat forms on the back of my neck as I approach the archway of the family room.
“What do you want?” Heinrich snaps, slashing his hand through the air toward me.
“Th-the girls are having trouble falling asleep so I was thinking I could bring them up to my bedroom with me. Would that be all right?”
The man’s eyes are lit up with wrath, unblinking, a cold ruthless stare. A short glass of liquor is pinched between his grip, sloshing around with every movement. To my right, Ada sits perched on the edge of her upholstered chair, hugging her belly, staring at her husband as if I’m not standing here.
“There are mice and rats up there. Why would I want my children to sleep up there?” Schäfer replies.
I’m not sure if he’s speaking literally or figuratively but I choose not to respond and instead wait for a more suitable resolution.
“I’m going to bed,” Ada says. “The girls can go to sleep in their beds. I’ll take Flora with me.” She stands from her chair, struggling as if in pain and takes Flora out of my arms. The cries ensue, but with a greater force. Without acknowledgement of the progression, Ada continues moving without another word, leaving me behind to fend for myself against her husband.
“I asked you if you witnessed someone in my office today,” he says, his voice calm, as if unbothered by the last few hours of arguing with his wife. “I didn’t ask ifyouwere in my office?”
His stare could suck the soul right out of my body. Now he’ll accuse me and I’ll be the next nanny to be removed from his house.
