Nanny Diaries

Chapter 33 - Hangover

Unfortunately for us, the peace of which we got to enjoy lasted a few seconds, tops. A screeching voice brought us all out of our dazed happiness and woke baby, who was now wriggling and crying in my arms. 

“Where is she?” the voice seems to emanate from the corridor. I roll my eyes, and Dr. May casts me a glance. I mouth, “Angie and Chris.” to her, and her face shows understanding. She then closes her eyes as if the end of the world is coming. 

It very well might be. 

The door bangs open, revealing the ghoul in all her glory. She appears to be unstable, hence her swaying, greasy hair and smudged makeup. Oh yeah, and the alcohol that lingers on her breath that I can smell all the way from here. 

Way to welcome a child to the world. 

Hammered. 

She raises a vodka bottle in the air, seeming to toast an audience that isn’t there. “Cheers to our new baby.” she slurs, taking a swig. Her coordination is questionable, especially when the bottle slips through her fingers and crashes to the linoleum floor. Shattered pieces of glass litter it, sliding in all directions. 

I pat baby’s bottom soothingly. Casting an apologetic glance at Dr. May, I coo sweet words in her ear and try to cradle her closer to my body, in an effort to muffle Angie’s drunken speech. 

“And that’s why we couldn’t find a pig to ride to get here earlier.” she says, directing her words at the lamp that’s perched on the bedside table. 

Dr. May presses the button on my bed, calling for assistance. Two male nurses show up, grabbing Angie by the arms and dragging her out. Another sweeps the glass from the ground, then sprays cleaner to cut the stench of vodka from the atmosphere. 

A pair of feet appear in the doorway. I raise my eyes to address the husband of the witch’s presence. He’s holding a bear in one and a bouquet of roses in the other. I smile in his direction, waving my hand to indicate for him to come closer. 

He peeks into the bundle, where his daughter’s eyes are closed again. Her little chest rises and falls. I feel my heart grow three sizes just watching her sleep. 

“She looks like you.” he murmurs, mesmerized. 

I take another peek, but all I see is a baby. 

“I don’t think so.”

“Can I hold her, please?” he asks, holding out his arms. I nod, but am cut off by the doctor, whose presence was forgotten until that moment. 

“Use hand sanitizer first.” she says, disgust apparent in her tone. He obliges without a word, and I pass him the baby, who nestles into his arms and lets out a little sigh. 

“Sorry about Angie.” he says without looking up from her face. “She had a shoot today and she usually drinks afterward. Pressure.” 

Even though he’s not even looking at me, I can tell he disapproves of her methods. I underestimate him sometimes. 

“It’s okay.” I answer. 

“I wish I’d been here for the birth. Was it... did it go okay?” he asks tentatively. 

I sigh, picking my hair up off my neck and placing it more on the pillow. “Painful,” I laugh. “But so worth it.”

His eyes glitter as they make contact with mine and agree silently. “It’s how I felt when Matt was born.” Chris’s voice cracks as he mentions his son’s name. 

I look down at my lap. I get it, but his daughter can’t be a replacement for Matt. There is no replacement. 

“She isn’t a substitute. But it helps, you know? To be able to get on. It doesn’t help anyone if no one can at least keep living their lives.”