The Bookish Life of Nina Hill(30)

Tom and Nina looked over; six little heads were peeping over the bookcase, like a row of ripening avocados on a windowsill. They ducked down again, and giggling was heard.

She looked back at Tom and shrugged. “Sorry, they can’t help it. I have to go.”

He nodded. “Yes, well, anyway . . .”

She said, “Yeah . . .”

He said, “See you at trivia?”

She said, “Sure.”

He said, “Bye then.”

She said, “Bye, thanks for the ticket.”

He said, “It was yours. I was returning it.”

She said, “I know, but still.”

He said, “Got it. Bye.”

She said, “Bye.”

He said, “See you.”

She said, “Yeah.”

She closed the door and turned to face the kids. They had popped back up and were looking at her over the top of the bookcase again. Nora was the first to comment.

“Sister,” she said, “you need to work on your banter.”

When Annabel’s mother, Lili, came to pick her up, she seemed stressed. Nina had always liked this mom; attractive without working at it, casually dressed, funny and mellow. But this evening she was rushing. Her hair was escaping from her bun in a way that had moved from messy to imminently undone. Nina itched to tuck it all in but managed to keep her hands to herself. Not everyone enjoys symmetry and control like you do, she reminded herself.

“Bel, come on, baby, we’ve got to hustle.” Lili was hunting in her giant handbag for something.

“Why?” asked Annabel. She wasn’t giving her mother attitude; she was just wondering.

“Because I need to get home and finish those forty individualized packets of seeds to use as place markers at Tanty’s wedding.” Lili finally pulled out her car keys and looked at her watch. “And I literally need your help and you have to go to bed like an hour ago, which means I have to use child labor while also breaking child labor regulations about sufficient sleep.”

Annabel frowned at her. “There are no child labor regulations about sleep in California.”

“Oh, I’m sure there are,” chimed in Nina, who was picking up the beanbags. “You can’t work at all until you’re fourteen.”

“But what about the sleep part?”

Nina looked at Lili over Annabel’s head. “I think those regulations vary from state to state.”

Annabel turned from Nina to her mom and narrowed her eyes. “What exactly does helping involve?”

“Coloring in, tying ribbons, stickering, checking things off a list . . .”

“Ooh, that sounds awesome,” said Nina, unable to help herself. Seriously, Lili had just rattled off four of her favorite activities.

Annabel grinned. “Well then, there you go. Nina can help you and California won’t get mad.”

Lili appeared embarrassed. “Bel, I’m sure Nina has plenty to do this evening.”

“Actually, no,” said Nina. “You live in the neighborhood, right? I don’t mind helping. I love all that crafty and organizey stuff.”

“You do?” Lili looked almost comically grateful. “It’s not my game at all. Well, the crafty part is OK, but I keep freaking out that I’ll forget someone or something and it’s really important.”

Nina laughed. “Well, let me put away the rest of the stuff and close up the store, and I’ll meet you out front in ten minutes?”

“You’re a goddess in human form,” said Lili.

“She’s not very good at flirting, though,” said Annabel, firmly. She looked at Nina. “My mom has a boyfriend. Maybe she can help you.”

Lili looked at her daughter in mild horror. “We’re going to get ice cream. We’ll see you in a little bit.”

As they walked out of the store, Nina watched them pause after a few steps and tried not to lip-read Lili telling her daughter not to comment on people’s personal lives. Good luck with that, she thought.





Ten




In which Nina is helpful.

Lili lived fairly close to Larchmont, but nonetheless they drove, because it was Los Angeles. Besides, Lili had groceries, art supplies, and a giant bag of dog food to carry inside, so it was just as well Nina was there.

“Oh, you have a dog!” said Nina, thrilled. She would love to have a dog, even though Phil the cat might not approve. She couldn’t stop herself from squatting down to greet Lili’s clearly ancient Labrador.

“That’s Frank,” said Lili. “He’s a shameless food whore; yours for a single kibble.”

Frank gazed into Nina’s eyes, trying to convince her to run away with him to a butcher’s shop. She smiled at him and rubbed his ears until he made grumbly noises at her.

“Coffee?” asked Lili, putting away the groceries. Annabel had disappeared, presumably into her room. Another little girl appeared, younger than Annabel.

“No, thanks,” replied Nina. “It’s too late for me.”

“Too late for you because you’re dying or too late for you for some other reason?” asked the little girl, interestedly.

“This is Clare,” said her mother. “Try and ignore her.”

“Yes,” said Clare, smiling at Nina like an angel, “you can try.”