Nanny for the Alien Lord by Tammy Walsh

Tauas

I wasn’tsure if Belle would turn up this morning.

At the restaurant, she’d come across as nervous, distant, and uncommitted.

All morning, I kept a close eye on my communicator, waiting to see if she was going to turn down my offer for some reason.

I was pleased when I heard her voice on the security monitor and let her in.

Elken had taken to her well.

Her reactions to new people could veer from one extreme to another.

Elken was very suspicious of new people.

She hadn’t screamed and shouted and refused to speak with Belle, and had even taken the little rocket ship from her hand.

It was a good sign.

I snapped out of the memory and focused on Ofor’s presentation at the front of the room.

He was our head of manufacturing and assured us he could meet our requirements for the big upcoming launch.

“Thank you, Ofor,” I said, getting to my feet. “You’ve eased the concerns of many on the board.”

Ofor nodded, collected up his things, and left the boardroom.

Once he was gone, the board members turned to me.

“We’re still barely getting enough basic materials to meet demand,” dour-faced Klonat said.

Living in a constant state of morbid depression, Klonat was nonetheless the best at highlighting potential future issues and concerns.

His pessimism helped us to avoid large problems from materializing in the past.

His negativity balanced my optimism.

He identified problems and I was the upbeat purveyor of solutions.

“Ofor said we would be fine,” I said simply.

“That’s your problem, Tauas,” Klonat said, “you’re far too trusting.”

Better than distrusting everyone I ever met, I might have snapped back at him.

The universe had ways of communicating with us, I believed.

If you opened your heart and mind to it, you could spot those signs.

The board knew nothing about my issue with finding a new nanny for Elken, and Klonat’s comment might have been a physical blow for the effect it had on me.

A warning shot across the bow from the universe.

Just that morning, I had signed a contract with a human female who I didn’t know.

I didn’t check her references and had left her to take care of my one and only daughter.

Suddenly, the flimsy piece of paper in my pocket didn’t seem quite so official.

The truth was, I instinctively trusted Belle.

I felt comfortable with her in my home.

But perhaps that had been a mistake.

Suddenly feeling nervous, I got to my feet.

“Maybe,” I said to Klonat. “But everything’s on schedule and the bots will be hitting the main streets across the galaxy in one month’s time. If we miss targets, then we miss them. Our job is to ensure the launch goes off without a hitch and I would rather lose a few orders than miss it entirely.”

The other board members nodded in agreement.

I turned and marched from the room.

My office was just down the hall and I quickly headed inside.

I fell into my desk chair and reached for my communicator.

I cycled through my contacts and prepared to call home.

I hesitated a moment.

Did I really want to call?

What would be my pretense?

Accuse Belle of not being up to the job?

To let her know I didn’t trust her?

But that wasn’t what I was doing.

I was simply a concerned father checking in to make sure she had everything she needed, and that Elken was behaving herself.

That sounded reasonable, I thought.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the desire to hear her voice again…

I called home.

The communicator rang three times, four, five…

After eight times, I began to grow worried.

Just as I got to my feet and prepared to rush home, the communicator was answered.

“Choer residence,” Belle said.

My fears melted instantly and I sank back into my chair.

I had nothing to worry about.

No doubt she had everything in hand.

“Hello?” Belle said.

“Yes, hello!” I said.

It felt good to hear her voice.

And for her to answer with ‘Choer residence.’

It made the big old house sound homey.

“It’s just me,” I said. “Tauas. Checking in to make sure everything’s fine and that you have everything you need. And that Elken’s behaving herself.”

“She’s an angel. She’s been telling me what she usually does with Daynnis. We’ve been doing them one by one. We read her books, complete her puzzles. Right now, she’s watching her favorite education holo-program. She really enjoys learning.”

I beamed with pride.

“Daynnis likes routines. I can’t tell you how long it took for Elken to get used to them.

“It certainly makes my life a lot easier! By the way, Elken’s talking about playing outside this afternoon. Is that what she usually does?”

I hesitated, unsure about what Elken got up to each day.

Maybe I was too trusting, I thought.

But Elken always seemed happy, so whatever Daynnis did with her seemed fine with me.

“If that’s what she says she usually does,” I said. “Let her be your guide. Do whatever she wants. I’m sure everything will work out all right.”

Belle ended the call and I leaned back in my chair, feeling relaxed and very comfortable with her looking after my baby.

For three years, it’d only ever been me and Daynnis taking care of her.

I’d probably been a little overprotective of her, not wanting her to come to any harm.

She rarely left the house and performed most of her activities there.

I was only grateful I had a big enough home so she could do virtually everything she wanted.

The idea of letting her out to explore the city and meet new people filled me with fear.

I wanted to remove any chance that harm might come to her and was willing to pay whatever it cost to keep it that way.

I called home once more, in the afternoon, to ensure everything was still going well.

When Belle answered, she said Elken wasn’t happy with her lunch as it wasn’t her usual meal.

She managed to circumvent the disaster by letting little Elken help her cook.

She enjoyed getting her hands dirty, she said.

After cooking, she was so tired she had to take an afternoon nap.

I moved my afternoon meetings to the following morning.

I dropped by a traditional Yixx restaurant called Pruen to pick up some food.

I had no idea what Belle liked, so I ordered one of everything.

I drove home and was greeted with a beaming Elken.

She threw herself at me the way she always did, with more excitement than usual when Daynnis watched over her.

“Daddy!” she screamed joyfully. “Daddy! I painting!”

Her hands were caked with color.

As she pressed herself against me, she left tiny handprints all over my pants leg.

“You’re painting me too!” I beamed.

“Come! See!”

She grabbed the hem of my pants leg and dragged me through the house and into her bedroom.

She had more toys than she could ever play with, a waste, I supposed, as she only ever played with a handful.

Belle had found some paints somewhere and spread newspaper across the floor.

I checked Elken’s handiwork but for the life of me couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to be.

Still, Elken seemed very pleased with it.

Belle stood up.

She had paint up her arms and across her cheeks.

She smiled nervously.

“I was hoping to get this cleared away before you came home.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve never seen Elken this excited before.”

“She said Daynnis doesn’t let her paint or help her with cooking. I guess she doesn’t like mess.”

That was an understatement.

Daynnis was a stickler for cleanliness.

In all her years at the house, I couldn’t remember a single time I’d seen a single mote of dust.

Elken had seized upon the opportunity to be creative.

“I brought food,” I said, raising the takeout bags.

“Not for me, thanks,” Belle said.

“You’re not going to eat with us?”

“I need to get home to my sister. She’ll be waiting for me.”

Technically, she was supposed to stay until six and I could make her stay until then if I wanted…

But if she didn’t want to eat with us, I wouldn’t force her to.

“Okay. But take some of the food home with you. I bought too much for just us.”

Her smile was distant, containing none of the warmth in mine.

“I’ll be fine. My sister’s a really good cook. Unlike me.”

She set to tidying up the newspapers and hung Elken’s paintings up by the window so they would dry by morning.

“Remember, little Elken,” she said. “Don’t touch it until tomorrow. When the paint’s dry, you won’t make a mess.”

Elken nodded somberly at her, eyes focused on her masterpieces on the window sill.

“Let me show you to the door,” I said.

Belle followed me, and that awkwardness yawned into the silence.

I reached for the door but didn’t open it yet.

I wanted to say something, to make her feel at ease with being in my presence, but all I could manage to say was:

“Thank you for today. I know Elken had a great time.”

“You’re welcome,” Belle said, nodding politely and exiting.

I watched her until she disappeared around the first bend in the driveway.

I should have offered to drive her home, I thought.

Then I realized she would have only turned me down anyway.

I wished I’d altered the contract so it stipulated she had to eat dinner with me and Elken.

Great idea, I thought. Force an employee to spend time with you.

I shook my head and shut the door.

As I drifted down the hallway, feeling lost in my own home, I peered up at the photos arranged along the walls.

Frozen memories from a past life.

Lyssun beamed joyously during our work and travel together.

Her blond hair made her blue skin glow.

From our early dating days when we met at university, right up to the night she went into labor.

That’s when the photos came to an abrupt stop.

Elken was meant to be the beginning of our last and greatest adventure—raising our first child, who I knew in my heart would be the first of many.

I ran a finger down the photo, over Lyssun’s face.

“I wish you could be here.”

I never should have offered Belle the position of Elken’s nanny.

There was a part of me that hoped we might draw closer and become something more, that the kiss we shared at the ball on New Year’s Eve hadn’t only been a single instance in a moment of madness.

Now, looking at the photos of my dead wife, I felt ashamed and embarrassed.

“I never thought she would replace you,” I whispered, my voice pitiful even to my ears. “I just thought she would be nice to hang out with now and then.”

I heard paper bags tearing and realized Elken had discovered the food I’d brought from the restaurant.

I thumbed a tear from my eye.

“What are you up to?” I said, scooping Elken up in my arms and spinning her around.

She squealed with delight.

It was okay, I thought.

I had Elken.

She was all I needed.

I tickled her belly and sat her in her chair.

I stacked the food on the kitchen counter.

By the time I was done, I’d built a mountain.