I look at the clock as I hear a soft knock at the door, ten before 1:00 PM.
Perfect, I think to myself as I walk to the door; I breathe to steady myself and open the door.
I open the door to a tall, thin woman with green eyes, long blonde hair, and sharp cheekbones.
Until a week ago, she was my part-time nanny, responsible for picking my kids up from school for half the week.
"Hey Kelly, nice to see you. Come on in," I say, leading her in and allowing her to choose where to sit -- the dining room table or the couch. She chooses the dining room table, and I take a seat across from her.
Kelly was great with the kids, and I liked her immediately upon meeting her, as did the kids.
I remember when I met her, she lit up the room, and when I walked her to the door, we chatted in the doorway for another 15 minutes before I put my hand out to shake her hand. She looked me in the eye and smiled while she shook my hand.
I remember her engagement ring was cold in her otherwise warm hands.
Kelly was a great nanny for four months. At 24, she was mature, talkative, and a pleasure to be around for a dad going through a divorce.
One day, she came in with kids in tow and told me we needed to chat.
After the kids were settled in and watching T.V., We chatted in the kitchen.
"I'm sorry. As you know, we're deep into wedding planning and we're working on the invitations, the seating charts, you know...." Kelly trails off, remembering that I, in fact, did know how weddings worked. Well, anyway, I was printing pictures out for the seating chart, and my boyfriend saw your picture and wanted to know who you were." She continues. I nod my head, starting to see where this conversation was going.
"So I told him who you were and he was not very happy. We are getting married in a couple of months, and we won't need me to work anyway, so it's probably best to make this week my last. He just thinks I shouldn't work for someone so um, well, hot". Kelly explains.
"Ah, I have to say that is pretty controlling and immature of him. But I understand if you need to quit. Can you finish out the week?" I ask.
She agreed to finish the week and pick up her check-up the following Friday while the kids are with their mother.
I am annoyed by the childish insecurities of her partner, but I tell her I understand.
Kelly arrives a little before 1 PM to pick up her last check, which is a bit more than necessary to cover the hours she worked.
She's in jeans and a tight gray t-shirt; she is nervous as she apologizes again and again.
I stop her. "Look, I am no longer your employer. You do not owe me an explanation. I get it; I just want to make sure you are okay. So tell me what you want, but don't feel obligated to share," I tell her. I get up and get her a drink. I take a sip of my coffee and lean against the counter.
Her eyes travel down my body as my shirt comes up a bit.
"I guess he heard me tell him you were divorced and working in the tech industry and assumed you would be short, fat, and white. But as I said, on Monday we were chatting about wedding guests, and I showed him your picture, and it started an argument. He tried to make it a safety thing, about how he didn't want me to be worried when I was here." She goes on to say
"Let me guess, you told him you were quite comfortable here and failed his test?" I asked with a grin.
"It's not funny, but yes, and it gets worse! He was irritated about my answers and was saying some really gross stuff." Kelly goes on to say.
"Oh," I say with a raised eyebrow, wondering if I should be hearing all this but too curious to shut down the conversation.
"Like he was all 'he's going to have you over his kitchen table against your will. Why don't you just quit and avoid all that?' And I was mad and told him it would most definitely not be against my will and that this conversation was making me really wet. So here we are, he said I quit, or we go get our deposit back on our wedding venue."
"Ughhh, and I don't even want to think about the wedding. It's been rough, and I don't even want to go through with it anymore," Kelly sighs.
"Oh yeah? I thought you liked it rough?" I say with a wink
Kelly blushes and takes a moment before saying, "God, I can't tell you anything. It's not the good kind of rough. I've just been struggling with some character flaws that my boyfriend has."
"That he's an insecure, controlling man-child, you mean?" I quip.
"Basically! Every time I have an idea, he vetoes it during this process.
I pick out roses and sunflowers for the floral arrangement. My boyfriend says no.
I finalized the seating list three times! My boyfriend said no.
Just to fuck with him, I've started introducing his ideas as mine, and he still says no!!!"
Kelly says, almost yelling by the end of her rant.
I move closer to Kelly and put an arm around her. She lays her head on my shoulder and sighs. "Listen, the decision is yours and only yours if you want to marry him. If he won't accept your answer, that doesn't bode well for the future. If he won't listen to your words, a clear and tangible action may be enough to get the point across." I take a breath, giving her space to shut down the conversation before continuing.
"Don't go through with this relationship if he is as controlling as you say, it will only get worse. Until you wake up one day and you no longer recognize yourself and resent yourself for it." I say gently.
