Nanny News or how a hellish summer job changed for the better (changing tittle)

Chapter 1 – Creepy metal robot guy1

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly my dream job. It was nothing even remotely close. When I had read the job description for the 1st time I’d thought it would be fun, even easy. A nanny gig in Upper East Side New York. Sure, the family would be a little snobby, but it wasn’t anything I hadn’t encountered before. 2

‘Nanny Position. One sweet girl to take after. Room and transportation provided. Pays $7-$9 per hour. Temporary summer job. Very easy.’3

The whole description had been welcoming to me. A little girl to take care of sounded easy enough. I had done my fair share of babysitting. I could take care of anything that came my way. I suspected she would be a little bratty, but what kid wasn’t? 4

“Mom… It’s only for the summer. You’ll survive without me.” I told my mom, Angeline, grasping both her shoulders. I was almost as tall as my mom, merely an inch shorter than her 5’7”. She played out the old your-leaving-and-I’m-going-to-cry-now routine. 5

“That’s almost three months. You can always back out and stay home with me.” She unsuccessfully tried to convince me. 6

“It’ll be fine. You’ll finally get that peace and quiet you’ve been pestering me about the past sixteen or so years.” I said with a laugh.7

“I like you being around…” She sounded whiney. 8

“I’ll call you when I get there.” I told her with reassurance. I picked up my medium-sized plain black suitcase, and carry-on backpack. I fallowed my mom to baggage claim since I’d never been to this airport; actually I’d never been to a single airport in my life. We checked my bag in, and put tags on both. My backpack rested loosely on my lower back as Angeline and I headed to Security, ticket in hand. There were a good fifteen people in front of us in line and I could already see Angeline’s tears forming. 9

“No reason to cry, you’ll see me in a couple of months. Plus I’ll call a lot.” I felt like the parent. She quickly wiped the single tear away. 10

“I’m not crying.” 11

“Give me a hug.” She pulled me in for a hug before I could anticipate what she had said. She squeezed me a little too hard. Something in my backpack jabbed my back. 12

“You have to let me go Angie…” Her embrace fell after what seemed like a five minute hug. It must have been a long hug because I was next in line.13

“You’re next in line.” Angeline confirmed.14

“You can’t miss me if I never leave.” I joked. She loosely laughed and caught me in another embrace, only this one was quick. 15

“Promise to call . . . Be careful. . . Don’t talk to strangers. . . I’ll miss you.” I nodded in between each pause. 16

“I really have to go now.” The security worker was harshly waving me on. “I’ll call when I get to the house, bye.” Tears started pouring down her face. I hugged her for yet the third time and hurried to security. I stuffed my ticket in my back pocket. 17

“Please place all metal belongings into bin. Blah blah blah.” A woman in a blue ironed-straight suit told me. Her voice sounded as monotone as the teacher’s on “Ferris Bueler’s day off”. I took out my keys, cell phone, and lip-gloss out of my pocket and placed them into the blue bin. I watched as the bin and my old forest green Jansport backpack glided across the black rubber material. I was spacing out again. I walked through the grey plastic archway. Beep Beep Beep. Nothing was amazingly going wrong. I grabbed my belongings, and backpack. 18

Which way now? I took my ticket out of my back pocket and took a look at it. Gate B-3. Which way was gate B-3? I saw a few signs directing me towards food courts, stores, Gates Cs, Gates As, yet no B Gates. Maybe I would just get something to eat, and a something to do on the way to New York. I fallowed the signs to the food court type place. I stopped at a sandwich type of place. I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, a classic ham sandwich on wheat. I sat down ate, but it went really quick. 19

I looked at my ticket once again; an hour and a half till it took off. There were a few stores across the sandwich place. I went over and bought two magazines, a tabloid and Seventeen magazine. 20

“Do you know where the B gates are?” I asked the lady behind the cash register as I paid. 21

“I think…” She paused. “ They’re on the other side of the airport that-a-way.” She told me uneasily and swiped a chunk of short black hair from her face. I thanked her and walked for what felt like a lot more than a hour and a half until I got to Gate B-3. 22

After a long enough wait I exchanged my ticket for a flight that ended up being the most extensive, most boring flight of my life. Several hours of business men talking about stocks, staring at the back of someone’s seat. Who could take the fun out of that? 23

When I was in New York’s Airport I wasn’t sure where to go or who was picking me up or if I had to take a cab. I knew the address of the flat ‘my summer family’ lived in, and that was all, but I was finally here. In New York City . It felt almost unreal. The city that never sleeps, or was that Seattle? Either way New York City would never be a quiet, calm place. There were people just about zipping past me. Some in business suits, some in some kind of casual wear. 24

I made my way to luggage. There were so many bags and suitcases I’m afraid I’ll know which one’s mine, even though it had my name on a connected tag. Tap tap tap. There was a man fiercely taping his foot, as if he was waiting for someone. No doubt he was in a hurry. He wore a suit that was black as night. His facial expression was a mix between frustration, anger, and worry. He looked flushed. Tap tap tap. There it went again. That tapping kind of sounded like metal on a tiled floor… Tile floor, check. Creepy metal robot guy, maybe check. There was a shiny black briefcase sitting by his right side. Maybe he was late for business meeting. If his luggage didn’t arrive in the next twenty seconds I was afraid he would burst into a million shard like pieces. And that would result in me covered in god only knows what, and I highly doubted that would make a good impression on the person I’d be practically be living with for the next few months. His eye just twitched, and I wouldn’t be surprised if one of his wires disconnected or something. Just about when I felt like I should shield myself from a possible detonation he grabbed a colossal suitcase and stormed off. 25

After what seemed like forever a suitcase that looked like every other one called my name, literally. I tried to swipe it off, but almost fell over in the process. I had forgotten how many clothes had brought, and how heavy it ended up to be. I really needed to start lifting weights… 26

I carted the suitcase near the exits, where someone might pick me up or maybe I would catch a cab. I scanned the area, there was a few people holding signs. Amazingly there was someone holding a sign that said ‘ Samantha brown’. It was a woman, maybe around her thirties. Could this be the mother? I walked over to her.27

“Hello. I’m Samantha…” I said to her. She backs away from me a few steps acting a bit surprise and a little disappointed. Is there something alarming about me? 28

“Hi…” She said to me, uneasily. 29

“Something wrong?” I asked her.30

“Your supposed to be….”She paused for a few seconds. “Latino.” People can be so ignorant sometimes. I had nothing against this woman yet, but if she was expecting some Spanish-speaking Latino she had to be deeply disappointed. I was whiter than the snow that fell every winter in my home town. 31

I laughed awkwardly. “No, the last name always confuses people.” I laughed nervously again. 32

“Oh, well you are certainly not what I expected, but you’ll have to do. I was hoping you and I could get some lunch. And then we’ll go back to the house where you can meet kitty.” She chirped up. Kitty? What era was she living? Last thing I heard the name ‘Kitty’ was used in the 70s, but I shouldn’t be judging this early in the game. I’d be watching this kid for the next two or so months. 33

“Ahh, okay.” I answered quietly.34

“Let’s go.” She commanded turning her heal to the exit. I quickly became alert to her command and fallowed after. 35

She was defiantly a high society mom, no doubt about it. After a ten minute car ride in her immaculately clean black limo I could already tell you many aspects of her life and personality even though we hadn’t spoke a word. She was the kind of woman who wouldn’t dare to wear anything that wasn’t designer. Who didn’t really pay much attention to her children. Who shopped for a living. The kind of woman who never ate carbs. 36

“Here we are.” She told me abruptly as the vehicle stopped to a halt, and the driver opened the door for us. I scooted over so I could step out her door. She walked ahead of me, and pushed the large glass entrance doors to the restaurant, basically slamming them in my face in the process. I studied her clothes from behind. Black glossy stiletto heels, an also black tight fitting dress(maybe Gucci or Prada), and black satin gloves that reached to her wrist. She looked like she was going to a celebrity’s funeral. I glanced down at my own clothes. An old pair of faded jeans, loose plain black shirt, black converses, and suddenly I regret my choice of clothing. 37

“Salut Mrs. Plum.” Someone that worked there said with a slightly Russian accent, and ‘Salut’ was said more like ‘Sal-oo’. What are with these names? It was like she just picked a name out of the board game clue. She just snapped her fingers, like she controlled the place, and they led the way to a small table. I’d guessed she was a usual. The waiter handed us stiff green menu that also shimmered gold. I opened to find out it was all in Russian. 38

“What’ll you have?” She asked me.39

“I can’t read it… I don’t know Russian.” I told her anxiously. 40

“Well then maybe you should learn French.” She emphasized the word ‘French’ and eyed me as if I’d committed a horrible crime. So maybe I was wrong on the Russian accent, maybe it had been a French accent. 41