Mafia Nanny

Two Letters

I bring the envelope to Mr. Brown as soon as I return to the house.

"Mrs. Abello gave this to me at the park. It's for Mr. Costa, from her husband, and he is to see it right away." I say the words calmly, and I am sure my face does not betray me.

Mr. Brown takes the envelope with a nod. "Mr. Costa has been expecting this. I shall take it to his study at once."

My task complete, I usher the children upstairs. Carla complains of a twisted ankle, and Bruno is sagging with exhaustion. His dark, curly head nods as I take off his shoes and tuck him into bed for a nap. A few moments later, I have settled Carla in a chair by the window with her ankle up on an ottoman and an ice pack for good measure. She agrees to read to me, and I pluck idly at the stitching on the sleeve of my sweater.

My mind is tired and bored by the reading, and I keep thinking of Raymond Jones and the pictures he took. I wonder if they will turn out well. They will be something fun to show my friends and, of course, my aunts.

I realize I have forgotten my aunts' letter and dig for it quietly in my purse. Carla is so absorbed in her reading that she will not notice if I pull it out and have a look.

It takes a moment to find the letter, as it is pressed to the bottom of my handbag. I take it out, slit open the envelope with my finger, and unfold the notepaper.

My dear George,

It has come to my attention, after the business of yesterday evening...

My heart stops. It is the wrong letter.

My letter, the one from my aunts, is downstairs on Mr. Costa's desk. The letter I am holding is from Mr. Abello and is inended for Mr. Costas's eyes only. And I have opened it.

"I will be back," I gasp to Carla before she can notice how frightened I am, and I dart from the sitting room, stuffing the letter back into the envelope without a second peek. As I fly down the stairs, two at a time, my mind is racing, trying to think if I can seal up the envelope so that Mr. Costa does not know I have read it.

Perhaps I could place it in a new, blank envelope and leave it on his desk. He wouldn't know the difference, and I will be saved. Taking heart, I dart across the hallway and swing open the door of his office.

Mr. Costa is sitting at his desk, and my aunts' letter is open before him.

"Why hello, Miss Moore," he says, looking up. "Is something amiss?"

I flush up to the roots of my hair and fight the inclination to run back up the stairs.

"I'm sorry," I stammer, "I did not know you were in."

He smiles, and his dark eyebrows come closer together. "I am."

"Forgive me," I continue, looking down at the desk to avoid his gaze, "but I'm afraid I gave you the wrong letter. That one is from my aunts, and this is the one that Mrs. Abello said was for you."

I hold it out to him. There is nothing else I can do.

"Ah, yes," he says, taking it from me calmly. "But you have opened it."

"I didn't read it," I blurt out hastily. "I noticed my mistake as soon as I saw the handwriting."

"Of course," he says smoothly. "A very simple mistake, to swap two letters in one's handbag."

I am unsure if he means it or if he is mocking me.

"This is the letter I want," I say, managing a weak smile. I snatch up my aunts' notepaper from the desk. "I can't miss out on all my aunties' news, or they will never forgive me." I laugh, but it sounds hollow.