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Nanny Dearest

Flora Collins
Chapters (47)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. Part Two
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. Part Three
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Cover

Cover image

About the Author

Flora Collins was born and raised in New York City and has never left, except for a four-year stint at Vassar College. When she’s not writing, she can be found watching reality shows that were canceled after one season or attempting to eat soft-serve ice cream in bed—sometimes simultaneously. Nanny Dearest is her first novel and draws upon personal experiences from her own family history.

Dedication

To Bramy, whose love and support remain unmatched.

PROLOGUE

I wake from my nap. There’s no baby gate, so I slip out soundlessly with Lolly. Annie is in the kitchen, so I go to Mama’s room. She said goodbye but I don’t want her to go yet.

Her door is closed. I reach up and turn the knob and hum our special song. It’s quiet. She’s sleeping. But I want to play! Lolly wants to play, too. The ladies who stay with her tell me not to bother Mama when she’s sleeping, but she tells me to anyway. It’s hard to get into the bed myself, so first I tug on her arm. She doesn’t wake up. I kiss her hand, but she doesn’t wake up. I lift Lolly up and let her kiss Mama’s face. That always works. But this time she stays asleep.

I want Mama! I grip the blanket and use it to scoot myself onto the bed. “Mama, wake up!” I jump on the bed with my knees. I’m not allowed with my feet. But she doesn’t move. I clutch her face and kiss her lips. That’s how Sleeping Beauty in the story wakes up. I sing to her, our special song.

But she stays quiet. Her eyes don’t even open.

I sit back, crisscross-applesauce. I feel the cry build up in my throat. I plug it in with my thumb.

I hop off Mama’s bed. I’ll go into my bed now. Show Mama that I’m a big girl who can sleep through naps. Maybe then she’ll want to play.

I bury my nose into Lolly’s fur and tiptoe out of her room.

She doesn’t ask me to come back.

Part One

PART ONE

1

“I would recognize those bangs anywhere,” she says, clutching her large faux-leather bag, pink nails pinching the synthetic hide. I can see the laugh lines beneath her glasses’ rims. I swallow, my tongue darting between my back molars, bracing myself.

“They stuck, I guess.” I laugh lightly, a meek trickle that escapes from my lips before I can stop it. She smiles again, this time with teeth, and I see how her front two overlap, barely discernible. But she’s standing so close that it’s hard not to notice.