3
Packing my stuff takes ten minutes. I don’t have a ton of belongings, just some clothes and toiletries and a Bible. Russell gives me a secondhand suitcase so I won’t have to carry everything in a plastic garbage bag. My housemates at Safe Harbor throw me a sad little going-away party with take-out Chinese and a ShopRite sheet cake. And just three nights after my job interview, I leave Philadelphia and return to Fantasyland, ready to start my new life as a nanny.
If Ted Maxwell still has concerns about hiring me, he does a great job of hiding them. He and Teddy meet me at the train station and Teddy is carrying a bouquet of yellow daisies. “I picked these out,” he says, “but Daddy bought them.”
His father insists on carrying my suitcase to the car—and on the drive to the house, they give me a short tour of the neighborhood, pointing out the pizza shop and the bookstore and an old rail trail that’s popular with runners and cyclists. There’s no trace of the old Ted Maxwell—the unsmiling engineer who grilled me on foreign languages and international travel. The New Ted Maxwell is jovial and informal （“Please, call me Ted!”） and even his clothes appear more relaxed. He’s wearing a Barcelona soccer jersey, dad jeans, and pristine New Balance 995s.
Later that afternoon, Caroline helps me unpack and settle into the cottage. I ask about Ted’s abrupt transformation, and she laughs. “I told you he’d come around. He sees how much Teddy likes you. More than anyone else we interviewed. It was the easiest decision we’ve ever made.”
We all eat dinner on the flagstone patio in the backyard. Ted grills his signature shrimp-and-scallop kabobs and Caroline serves home-brewed iced tea and Teddy runs around the grass like a whirling dervish, still astonished that I’ve come to live with them full-time, every day, all summer long. “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it!” he exclaims, and then he falls back onto the lawn, deliriously happy.
“I can’t believe it, either,” I tell him. “I’m so glad to be here.”
And before we’ve even had dessert, they’ve already made me feel like a member of the family. Caroline and Ted share a gentle and relaxed affection. They finish each other’s sentences and pick food from each other’s plates, and together they tell me the charming fairy-tale story of how they met at the Lincoln Center Barnes and Noble some fifteen years ago. Midway through the story, Ted’s hand reflexively drifts to his wife’s knee, and she rests her hand on top, weaving their fingers together.
Even their disagreements are kind of funny and charming. At one point in the meal, Teddy announces he has to go to the bathroom. I stand to go with him, but Teddy waves me off. “I’m five years old,” he reminds me. “The bathroom is a private place.”
“Attaboy,” Ted says. “Don’t forget to wash your hands.”
I return to my seat, feeling foolish, but Caroline tells me not to worry. “This is a new phase for Teddy. He’s exerting his independence.”
“And staying out of prison,” Ted adds.
Caroline seems irked by the wisecrack. I don’t understand what it means, so she explains.
“A few months ago, we had an incident. Teddy was showing off to a couple children. I mean, he was exposing himself. Typical little boy behavior but it was new to me so I may have had an overreaction.”
Ted laughs. “You may have called it sexual assault.”
“If he were an adult male, it would be sexual assault. That was my point, Ted.” Caroline turns to me. “But I agree I could have chosen my words a little more carefully.”
“The boy can’t even tie his own shoes,” Ted says, “and already he’s a sexual predator.”
Caroline makes an exaggerated show of removing her husband’s hand from her knee. “The point is, Teddy learned his lesson. Private parts are private. We don’t show them to strangers. And next we’re going to teach him about consent and inappropriate touching because it’s important for him to learn these things.”
“I agree one hundred percent,” Ted says. “I promise you, Caroline, he’ll be the most enlightened boy in his class. You don’t have to worry.”
“He’s really sweet,” I assure her. “With you guys raising him, I’m sure he’s going to be fine.”
Caroline takes her husband’s hand and returns it to her knee. “I know you’re right. I just worry about him anyway. I can’t help it!”
And before the conversation can go any further, Teddy comes hurrying back to the table, breathless and wild-eyed and ready to play.