The Housemaid(10)

“Ta-da!” I slide the plate onto the kitchen counter to present it to Cecelia. “Peanut butter and banana crackers!”

Her eyes widen. “Peanut butter and banana?”

“Trust me. It’s really good.”

“I’m allergic to peanut butter!” Cecelia’s cheeks turn bright pink. “Peanut butter could kill me! Are you trying to kill me?”

My heart sinks. Nina never said anything about a peanut butter allergy. And they have peanut butter right in their pantry! If her daughter has a deadly peanut allergy, why would she keep it in the house?

“Mommy!” Cecelia shrieks as she runs toward the staircase. “The maid tried to hurt me with peanut butter! Help, Mommy!”

Oh God.

“Cecelia!” I hiss at her. “It was an accident! I didn’t know you were allergic and—”

But Nina is already racing down the stairs. Despite the disarray of her house, she looks flawless right now in another one of her gleaming white skirt-and-blouse combinations. White is her color. Cecelia’s too, apparently. They match the house.

“What’s going on?” Nina cries when she reaches the bottom of the stairs.

I wince as Cecelia propels herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around Nina’s bosom. “She tried to make me eat peanut butter, Mommy! I told her I was allergic, but she didn’t listen.”

Nina’s pale skin flushes. “Millie, is this true?”

“I…” My throat feels completely dry. “I didn’t know she was allergic. I swear.”

Nina frowns. “I told you about her allergies, Millie. This is unacceptable.”

She never told me. She never said a word about Cecelia being allergic to peanuts. I would bet my life on it. And even if she had, why would she leave a jar of peanut butter right in the pantry? It was right in front!

But she won’t believe any of my excuses. In her head, I nearly killed her daughter. I see this job slipping out from under my fingers.

“I’m truly sorry.” I speak around a lump in my throat. “I must’ve forgotten. I promise I’ll never let it happen again.”

Cecelia is sobbing now while Nina holds her close and gently strokes her blond hair. Eventually, the sobs subside, but Cecelia still clings to her mother. I feel a terrible stab of guilt. Deep down, I know you aren’t supposed to feed kids before checking with the parents. I’m in the wrong here, and if Cecelia hadn’t been so vigilant, something terrible could’ve happened.

Nina takes a deep breath. She shuts her eyes for a moment and opens them again. “Fine. But please be sure you don’t forget anything so important ever again.”

“I won’t. I swear.” I wring my fists together. “Do you want me to throw out the jar of peanut butter that was in the pantry?”

She’s quiet for a moment. “No, better not. We might need it.”

I want to throw up my hands. But it’s her decision if she wants to keep life-threatening peanut butter in her home. All I know is that I will definitely never use it again.

“Also,” Nina adds, “when will dinner be ready?”

Dinner? Was I supposed to be making dinner? Did Nina imagine another conversation between the two of us that we never had? But I’m not about to make excuses again after the debacle with the peanut butter. I’ll find something in the fridge to prepare.

“Seven o’clock?” I say. Three hours should give me more than enough time.

She nods. “And you won’t put any peanut butter in the dinner, right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Please don’t forget again, Millie.”

“I won’t. And does anybody have any other allergies or… intolerances?”

Is she allergic to eggs? Bee stings? Too much homework? I need to know. I can’t risk being caught out again.

Nina shakes her head, just as Cecelia lifts her tear-streaked face off her mother’s chest long enough to glare at me. The two of us have not gotten off on the right foot. But I’ll find a way to fix it. I’ll make her brownies or something. Kids are easy. Adults are trickier, but I’m determined to win over Nina and Andrew as well.





FIVE





By 6:45, dinner is almost ready. There was some chicken breast in the fridge that was already marinated and somebody had printed instructions on the bag, so I just did what the instructions said and threw it in the oven. They must get their food from some sort of service with directions already on it.

The kitchen smells fantastic when the garage door slams. A minute later, Andrew Winchester is strolling into the room, his thumb in the knot of his tie to loosen it. I’m stirring some sauce on the stove top, and I do a bit of a double-take when I see him, having forgotten quite how handsome he is.

He grins at me—he’s even more handsome when he smiles. “Millie, right?”

“That’s right.”

He inhales deeply. “Wow. That smells incredible.”

My cheeks flush. “Thank you.”

He looks around the kitchen in approval. “You got everything clean.”

“That’s my job.”

He chuckles. “I suppose it is. Did you have a good first day?”

“I did.” I’m not going to tell him about the peanut butter debacle. He doesn’t need to know, although I suspect Nina will clue him in. I’m sure he won’t appreciate me almost killing his daughter. “You have a beautiful home.”