She spotted Pearl, the so-called best housekeeper-nanny, and her charge, Laura, right away. Laura was a self-possessed dark-haired girl who stood in front of Pearl delivering a self-centered speech about her friendships. Pearl smiled and nodded patiently through the talk. “Paula doesn’t want to play She-Ra in yard,” Laura said. “She doesn’t want to share the pretend. She only wants to play with me. That’s because I have better toys than Zoey. And Zoey always messes things up in yard.”
“All right,” Pearl said, nodding while she brushed off the little girl’s dress so unobtrusively the cleaning was almost subversive.
“It’s clean!” the little horror complained anyway, but she didn’t step away.
“I know it is. I’m sorry,” Pearl said penitently. “I’m always fussing, you know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, you fuss too much. It’s not good for you. You need to relax,” Laura added, and then skipped off without a good-bye.
Instead of being angry, Pearl laughed with delight and threw her head back, the white of her dentures bright against her golden brown skin. Diane’s concentration on Pearl caused their eyes to meet and Pearl cut off her laughter, even covered her mouth, self-consciously. “She’s right,” Pearl confessed. Then she noticed Byron. “Oh, a new baby!” she exclaimed. “How old’s he?”
“Three weeks.”
“He’s big! My, my. So big!” Her own big hands reached into the carriage. Pearl offered her fat index finger and Byron immediately closed his tiny white hand on it. She allowed him to pull the tip to his mouth, the soft lips closing, sucking. “Strong. Yes, yes, yes,” she said, and leaned over his carriage. “You’re a strong one.” Byron froze, his bold stare focused on her. It was the first person Diane had seen him truly notice besides herself. “Yes, little man, you’re strong. You hungry? You always hungry, right?”
Diane heard herself laugh. Her breasts were sore, one nipple had cracked — even when she wore a shield, his jawing hurt. “He sure is.”
“Well, you’re a big one, that’s why,” Pearl continued, her focus on Byron so complete the conversation seemed to be between them. Pearl gently pulled her finger back from his lips. “My hand’s not clean,” she whispered to Byron. “I been in the park messing with things. I’m dirty. My hands are dirty. Yes, yes, they are!” Pearl turned from him, her hand straying on his belly, a comforting paw. “He’s a beauty.”
“Thank you.” Diane was melted. After all, this wasn’t a job interview. Pearl had no motive to praise Byron. This woman loved babies. Diane had to have her. “When does Lau—” she stopped herself. She didn’t want Pearl to know that she had met Karen the day before. “What’s your girl’s name?”
“Laura. She makes me laugh. She’s so proud and smart. Wish my daughter was like that. She has no opinion of herself. Not like Laura. She knows she’s something.”
“Laura’s in school?”
“All morning! I miss her. Have nothing to do. I get my work done in a hour. Do the washing Monday, my ironing’s done Tuesday. ” Pearl looked off, couldn’t spot Laura in the sandbox (she had crouched beneath the low concrete enclosure), and stood on her tiptoes until she did. “Wish they’d have another baby.” She peered in at Byron. “Right? Like you, strong boy! A baby brother for Laura. That would be good.”
Oh, Diane sagged, disappointed. She is fishing for a job. Laura’s mother, Karen, knows that, hence her reserved praise. For a moment Diane was quiet and considered abandoning her plan. But after all, even if it was an act with Byron, the performance was excellent. Isn’t that what we pay for? she asked herself. I’m a terrific lawyer, I don’t really care about my clients, but I work my butt off because I’m a performer. What’s the difference? “Next year,” Diane said, “I guess she’ll be in school all day.”
Pearl shook her head. “Don’t want to think about it. I’ll be so lonely.”
“I have to go back to work soon. I really should be back now.”
“Really? So soon? That’s terrible.”
“I need someone to take care of Byron.”
“What?”
“My son.”
“I’m getting so hard-of-hearing. I’m almost deaf. I really am. What’s his name again?”
“Byron,” Diane confessed, embarrassed.
Pearl looked puzzled. “Family name?”
“Sort of. I’d really like to hire you.”
“Thank you very much,” she said easily, unsurprised by the offer. “But I couldn’t leave my girl so soon. Her parents are counting on me, at least for the summer.”
“That’s not fair to you. Keep you hanging on through the summer without guaranteeing you a job for the fall and winter.”
“Oh, when they done with me, I be moving to Florida. Got good friends living there. I can get easy work. I stayed on for Laura.” She looked off again to check on her. “If they had another, I’d keep working up here. I don’t think they will. Her mother … ” She trailed off. “She has an important job. Don’t have time, I guess.”
Diane listened. She was convinced all of it was merely negotiating. She nodded seriously and thought about how Brian Stoppard handled such matters; dealing with this poor black woman was probably no different from handling a corporate vice-president. “I’d appreciate it if you could recommend someone. We live right there on Fifth and Tenth, in a three bedroom co-op. We can pay three hundred a week, maybe more if she can work at night sometimes.”
Pearl said, “Three hundred?” immediately.
“Is that too little?”
“I never was good at arithmetic. How much is that an hour?”
“Seven-fifty an hour.”
Pearl smiled. “No, ma’am. That’s not too little.” She looked into Byron’s carriage again. His eyes blinked rapidly at the spectacle of her face; his legs rippled the blankets; his arms waved at the air. “Hello,” she sang to him. “Oh, you’re cute. Can I pick him up?”
“Sure,” Diane said. A smile of triumph welled within her, although she kept her lips tight, her manner casual.
Pearl lifted him from the carriage. Her hands were enormous, the fingers meeting around his torso, smoky brown against the white stretchy. Pearl lifted him into the air. His mouth formed an O; his tiny feet kicked at the absence of ground; his eyes bulged at the big bright world.
Diane sighed. She had Pearl hooked. Things were under control.
ERIC AND NINA left the hospital with Luke on a beautiful spring day. They were driven the twelve blocks home by Eric’s father, Barry, who never went faster than fifteen miles an hour.
Miriam, Eric’s mother, sat next to her husband in the passenger seat, twisted around to keep her eyes on Luke, talking to Nina throughout the ride. Nina held Luke in her arms. She winced at every pothole (the episiotomy, the episiotomy, she thought, will there ever be an end to my pain?) and only occasionally heard her mother-in-law’s chatter.
“Eric was so big when he was born! I couldn’t carry him.”
“Oh, yeah!” her husband, Barry, said.
“He was over ten pounds!” she argued to him.
“Please!” he answered.
A truck rattled past Nina’s window, the unevenly paved section of Second Avenue shaking its cargo. Luke squealed. His sleepy eyelids squeezed together unhappily. “It’s okay, baby,” Nina said to him. “Just the crazy city.”
“No place to raise a child,” Miriam argued.
“The only place to raise kids,” Barry answered. “You want him to be some schmuck Westchester kid who wouldn’t have the smarts to pump gas?”
“That’s right, Dad,” Eric said. “Kids who grow up in the suburbs are almost unemployable in this country.”