Devotion by Madeline Stevens

Author:Madeline Stevens
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-06-13T16:00:00+00:00

18

THE ENTRY I’D BEEN WAITING FOR. I’D ANTICIPATED HER SAYING something basic like “We have a new nanny named Elle. She seems okay with Billy.” I tried not to get my hopes up too far. I didn’t wait for her to say anything like “She’s our best nanny yet.”

When the entry came, it wasn’t in reference to my work at all. Though it wasn’t horribly insulting, it made me feel gawky and awkward, to see myself reflected through her eyes. I have been dreading writing it down, though I remember it word for word.

Elle is a strange person. I didn’t really know her until we went away. I still don’t really know her, though lying next to someone for a while makes them feel closer even if you don’t learn anything. Here is what I know:

She is probably very lonely.

She feels uncomfortable talking about men and sex. I have no sense of whether or not she’s ever slept with anyone—ever.

She never talks about her friends.

She moved across the country in order to leave everything behind instead of seek anything out.

There’s a lot she doesn’t tell me.

She doesn’t give much up, but I like the way she holds herself. I like the way she hunches over a table, the volume of her voice, the way she eats. She’s not a little fluttering girl, though she looks practically malnourished. You can tell something about the way she was raised, that’s it. There’s a certain kind of childhood that spits out a certain naïve, anxious, occasionally blundering but ultimately charming person. She eats everything, that’s exactly what it is. You should’ve seen her at this dinner. I watched through the window as she just kept shoveling it in. I just want to keep feeding her.

Her writing inspired a certain amount of resentment in me. I had friends, or at least I felt I did, though we’d never been close and I hadn’t seen any of them for a long time. I decided to invite Sam out for a drink one night. She sat with her shoulders slunk inward, her back hunched as if she were trying to take up less room than she did—her posture a permanent apology. I’d had a lot of friends like that growing up. I suppose they made me feel good by comparison, made me feel confident and effervescent. I used to think girls like Sam looked up to me, but it’s just as likely that they were judging me all the time.

The loud music of the bar covered the silences that fell between us so I felt grateful for it.

“Are you seeing anyone?” I asked, when we’d worn out the subject of her work.

At first it felt like an imitation of interest, but I quickly realized I was hungry for it—this interaction.

“No,” she said. “Not right now.”

She smiled, but that was it, that was all she was going to say.

We’d never had these kinds of conversations. We’d always been capable of leaving well enough alone. She didn’t follow up with reciprocal questions.

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