Page 53 of The Marriage Agreement
She opens the door she’s been standing outside of and we enter a private room. Lake is sleeping soundly with drips and monitors hooked up to him. I immediately rushed to his side. His lips and throat look swollen, but other than that, there’snothing that says he’s not fine. I glance at the machine above his head. His vitals are fine, but his heart rate is a little elevated.
“What happened?” Damien demanded.
“The doctor said it’s nothing serious, but he needs to some hydration. She thinks he might have eaten something allergic, and it caused his tonsils to swell.” Greta darts over to the small table next to Lake’s bed and grabs a notepad. “I’ve written everything he ate during the day. Nothing sticks out. I try to avoid stuff like nuts until I am given the go-ahead by the parent.”
I take the notepad. She has written a list of foods, the times Lake ate and the quantities. Well, some foods have quantities notes and the ones that don’t are noted with an asterisk. There’s a legend below that explains the asterisks. ‘quantity unknown.’ I have to grudgingly admit that she’s a much better caretaker of Lake than Phoebe. This whole situation might have been too much for someone like Phoebe. I doubt she would have had the forethought to sit down and write everything Lake ate.
I make a quiet thank you and read through the list. There’s nothing here I can point to as the culprit. Everything he ate today is stuff he’s eaten before. There are a couple of fruits, bread, vegetables, chicken breast, roast potatoes.
They didn’t even order takeout, which would not have been unreasonable since Damien’s private chef was with us. It seems like she cooked instead.I turn to Lake while Damien takes the list out of my hand. His shoulders tense, his eyes scan the notepad, and with a clenched jaw, he says, “Is that all?”
“It’s all I can remember.”
“Are you sure?” His voice is harsh and makes the usually stoic nanny jumpy.
“I’m sure she tried her best to write down everything,” I say, holding his arm. Surprisingly, that takes some of the tension out of his body. Damien rubs his forehead and sighs, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure, that’s all.”
Greta’s eyes brighten. “Your assistant!” she bursts out.
Damien raises his brows. “My assistant?”
I feel a cold prickling sensation at the back of my neck.
“She came earlier to drop some files for you and she played with Lake while I was making dinner. Maybe she gave him something.” Damien raises his eyebrows. Realizing the insinuation of Greta’s words, she adds, “Like candy or something. Maybe the candy has some allergen in it.”
“Thanks,” I say to her. “You’ve been a great help.”
“I’m sorry about what happened,” she cries.
“It’s not your fault,” I say. She doesn’t seem to believe me. Her face is full of worry and she’s more than a little stressed out. It must have been harrowing for her to have a child collapse on her watch. Her lips are white and she looks like she hasn’t had a drink in ages. I brush her arm. “How about you give yourself some rest? We’ll take it from here.”
“I’m so sorry.” She apologizes again and waves goodbye to Lake before leaving. As soon as the door closes Damien curses. “I should fire her.”
“I don’t think she’s at fault.” Taking the notepad from his hand, I analyze the list again. “She did all she could and better than most babysitters.”
“She’s not a babysitter. She’s well-trained professional nanny. Her job is to keep my son safe.”
My stomach does that wobbly thing it does every time he calls Lake his son. “Which she did well. No one can see everything all the time. Mistakes happen. And besides, Lake has never had allergies before.”
“Weren’t you the one who didn’t want her looking after Lake in the first place?”
“The person I am most worried about is your assistant. What the fuck did Nicole give him?”
Damien’s eyes narrow. “You think Nicole poisoned Lake?”
“I don’t think she gave him a spoonful of cyanide, but she could have given him something that could have caused a negative reaction.” I wave the notepad at him. “It’s the only time and activity not accounted for.”
“What do you have against her?”
“Against Nicole?” My mind goes to that harrowing time when I was hysterically trying to contact Damien and how Nicole was the barrier to that. Is that why I mistrust her? No. Something’s telling me not to trust her. It might be irrational, but I can’t ignore it. “Nothing,” I say, “but it’s her time that’s not accounted for.”
“Yeah, but I doubt she could have—
“Mom?” Lake’s croaking voice grabs both of our attention, and we both turn to him. His eyes flicker open, heavy with sleep and sedatives. I lean over him, “Hi.” He looks weary.
“I’m sorry.”
“I told you before, none of this is your fault.”
