Nanny for the Grump by Kate Lovelace
1
ANA
New Harmony, Indiana.
Even the name of the town sounds like a place I wouldn't fit in. It's too perfect, too idyllic—like something out of a feel-good television romance. And my life has been anything but. The last few years have been nothing short of a disaster.
But, even if I don't belong in a place that resembles the cover of an old-time Christmas card, here I am.
Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I glance up at the diner in front of me and bite down on my lower lip. The small establishment looks like a family-run place with a simple painted sign that reads “Millie’s Café and Diner.”
This town could be the perfect place to hide out for a while—to get my bearings while I escape my past. Maybe this is a place where I can finally feel safe and protected. It could be my refuge in a world that’s far too cruel.
Stepping out of my car and into the warmth of the sun, I prepare to make my arrival in New Harmony known. A burst of chilly air hits my face as I swing open the door and enter the diner. Everyone in the tiny restaurant turns to gawk at me like I pulled a needle across a record.
I glance down at my clothes. I don't think I'm dressed so out of character. But, when I scan the room and realize most of the patrons are old men wearing bibbed overalls, it makes sense.
Walking up to the counter, I pull out one of the wooden stools and take a seat. The middle-aged waitress glances at me, and I see her weathered face crinkle into a sour expression. I can’t tell if she’s disgusted or confused.
She wipes her hands on her white apron and puts on a smile as she comes to the counter, pulling a pencil and a piece of paper out of her pocket.
“What can I get for you?” she asks, eyeing me.
I’m hungry–being on the road for hours will do that. But, knowing I only have a little change left in my purse, I remind myself I have to be frugal. I sit up straight on my stool.
“A cup of coffee, please,” I say, forcing a smile. At least the caffeine will help keep me awake.
Nodding, she tucks the small notepad back in her apron pocket and snaps her fingers. As I sit, waiting for her to get me my drink, I let my eyes wander around the small restaurant, taking in the scene. Old pictures cover several of the walls in what appears to be the opening of the diner back in nineteen fifty-four.
“Here you go,” the waitress announces, signaling her return.
She puts the hot cup of coffee down in front of me, along with a spoon.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asks.
This time, her smile is a little more genuine, as if she sees I’m not a threat.
Trying not to laugh at her comment, I shake my head and reach for a packet of sugar. In spite of my cynicism, I’ve got a positive feeling about this place.
“No. I’m not,” I confess, looking up at her. “I’ve been traveling, but I’m hoping to find a place to put down some roots. Do you happen to know of anyone looking to hire? I could really use a job.”
The waitress’s face lights up as she sees an opportunity to make a new friend. I wasn't trying to make small talk, and yet it seems this is exactly the thing she was hoping to hear from me. She sticks out her hand and gives me a smile that stretches across her tanned features, her dirty-blonde and gray ponytail bouncing up and down as she nods.
“It’s my pleasure to welcome you to our community,” she declares, reaching for my hand, and giving it a firm shake. “I’m Jenny. Jenny Ockerman. And you are?”
I pull in a breath and tense my shoulders, shifting my weight on my seat. I know I can’t hide my identity forever, and yet the better part of me wants to play it safe. There’s something about keeping my real name private that makes me feel safe, like no one can find me if I keep that part of myself secret.
“I’m Ana… Ana Green,” I say with a tentative smile. My last name is not Green, but I need to remain as anonymous as possible. Plus, my full name, Anastasia Brzezinski, probably wouldn’t fit in with the locals.
“What kind of work are you looking for, Ana Green?” Jenny asks as she puts her hand on one hip.
I shrug my shoulders and throw up a hand as if I don’t care. I really don’t—as long as it’s a job that doesn’t require a photo ID. I’m going to hide behind the last name Green for as long as possible.
Leaning her weight on the counter and standing directly over my cup of coffee, Jenny studies me as if she’s trying to figure out a job that would be suitable for me. Then she straightens and reaches for a damp rag, her mouth scrunching to one side as she thinks. She wipes a dirty spot on the counter and peers back at me—weighing the options.
“How do you do with kids?” she finally asks, tossing the rag aside as if she’s satisfied with her cleaning job.
Kids? At twenty-three years old and growing up an only child, it’s been a long time since I was a kid, and I’ve had nothing to do with them since. I’ve lived my whole life with only myself to worry about, and that's been quite enough.
“Kids,” I declare, trying to sound positive. I can’t afford to let any job option go. “I love kids.”
Jenny reaches up to brush a strand of loose hair out of her face.
“Well, we’ve got a local rancher, Silas Berne,” she explains. “Sad story… he moved away from town when he was younger, to get married. Then he came back years later with no wife and a kid. He’s not what you would consider a friendly sort of fellow, but he does have money. I think something terrible must have happened to him while he was gone. I mean, he wasn’t so weird when he was younger… now he’s more like an old hermit.”
Jenny drones on and on with her story, filling me in on details I don’t need to hear. At the moment, all I care about is coming up with enough money to buy some food. I don’t need to know the history of the entire town and its residents. But I don’t want to sound rude by interrupting. As soon as she takes a breath, I jump on the opportunity and speak up.
“And this Mr. Berne is looking for help?” I ask, trying to guide the conversation.
Getting to the point, Jenny says, “Yeah. Silas needs someone to help him on his property. He’s been advertising all over town how he wants someone to watch his son and do some work around the place.”
Jenny shrugs her shoulders.
“I guess he’s finally admitting that taking care of his big farm all by himself is too much of a job for one person,” she adds with a snort and then lowers her voice. “He says he needs someone to stay at his house around the clock. Like a live-in nanny, I guess. Or a wife with none of the benefits. Needless to say, it’s not a job very many people want. You know, most girls around here want to have a life outside their work.”
“Hey, Jenny!” one of the men in overalls calls from a booth behind me. “Am I ever going to get some service?”
“Just hold your horses for a minute, Alvin!” Jenny calls out in a stern voice as she throws up a hand. “I’m taking care of a customer.”
Grabbing for the paper in her pocket, she pulls the notebook back out and tears off a sheet. Hurrying to scribble down some directions.
“Here’s his address, and a little map to get to his place,” she says. “You tell him Jenny from the diner sent you. Just be sure to tell him you're capable around the house and you love kids.”
She smiles, handing me the paper and giving me a friendly wink.
“Good luck to you, dear,” she says. “I hope you get to make New Harmony your new home. And if Silas doesn’t give you the job right away, one of our waitresses is sick with the flu. You could always fill in here for a couple of days, now that I think of it.”
She starts around the counter to go check on the complaining patron.
As I take the paper and study it, I think about her words. I hope New Harmony can be my home too—at least for a little while.
I drink the last of my coffee in a hurry and pull myself to my feet, heading back out to my land yacht of a car. I slide into the old Chrysler, readjusting my butt against the coil springs of the leather bench seat, and take in a deep breath.
As I close the door, a puff of fresh air fills the cabin with the warm scent of freshly cut grass. I press my head back against the seat and close my eyes. I know everyone in the restaurant is looking out the windows, staring at me, but I don't care. This is the most amount of interaction I’ve had with a person since I started running a week ago. Maybe Ana Green is exactly who this town needs.
All I know is, I have a chance to rebuild. In a place where no one knows me, I can be whatever and whoever I want.
Collecting myself, I put my keys in the ignition and fire up the rumbly eight-cylinder. I got a room at a clean but primitive-looking motel on the outskirts of town. But that will be the last of my cash once it’s paid for, so I’ve got to figure out a way to make some money after today.
“Babysitting a kid,” I mutter to myself in the empty car. “And cleaning an old farmhouse.”
The idea of taking on these jobs sounds ridiculous to me. My mind travels back to my college major in Art History, and I wonder how I ever managed to land here.
Of course, I can never forget how I ended up here. But I blame myself. I’m the one who let myself get sucked into a relationship with a dozen red flags. I’m the one who fell for someone who turned out to be an abusive, controlling egomaniac. It has been my bad choices that have put me where I am right now.
Guiding my car back toward the motel, I can only hope and pray there will be a way to change the trajectory of my life. Now that I’ve managed to escape my ex, perhaps I can find a way to get my life back.
Glancing from the road back toward the piece of notepaper on the seat next to me, I can’t help but wonder if this job with Silas Berne might be the solution to all my problems. If I can manage to get the job he’s offering, I will have a place to stay and food to eat. And, considering the few quarters I have left in my purse, that alone would be a welcome relief.
Digging through my glove box with my free hand, I fish out a package of peanuts. For today, these peanuts will have to suffice as my dinner. By tomorrow, maybe something else will turn up.
At this point, really, my luck has nowhere left to go but up.