"Thanks for the lift," Nicky Nichols said, handing her driver his fee with a generous tip. She opened the door in the back seat of the cab and swung one leg out first, tapping the toe of her black patent bootie on the curb. The flared leg of her black slacks flapped around her ankle in the heavenly September breeze. Nicky pulled the sunglasses perched on top of her head down over her eyes and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
"Same time tomorrow?" the driver called over his shoulder. He was a portly man with a balding head in his late fifties. Nicky had hailed down his cab one spring day by chance, two years ago, and they'd had so much fun, cracking each other up the whole ride, that she had recruited him to be her full-time personal driver ever since.
"Huh?" Nicky spun on her heel. "Oh, sorry, Tony, I forgot to tell you. No, I won't need a ride to work tomorrow. I'm taking a long weekend instead."
"Good for you," Tony praised. "You deserve it. You've been working longer and longer hours lately."
"Helping people battle their own addictions has become a new addiction of mine," Nicky joked, tossing her curly hair back.
A group of people passing on the street paused to give her a second glance. Always an attractive girl, Nicky had adapted to a more polished, professional look once released from prison and turned heads wherever she went. At forty-seven, she was more beautiful than ever and could easily have lied and taken ten years off her age. Her wild mane of frizzy curls was cut shoulder-length and conditioned to look bouncy and soft. Her makeup was minimal and she was wearing an elegant pantsuit with low heeled pointed pumps.
She flashed Tony a mischievous grin. "I'm driving us myself."
"I'm terrified," Tony replied. "What road are you going to be taking? So, I can steer clear of it…"
"Very funny," Nicky rolled her eyes.
"Didn't you once tell me you stole a cab and totaled it in under two seconds?"
"Is that why you never leave the keys in the ignition when you pull over for your endless smoke breaks?" Nicky complained.
"Answer the question," Tony smirked.
"Yesterday is history, my friend. And I've taken Driver's Ed," Nicky said, holding her hand up in surrender. "Don't worry, you've still got your job. Turns out city driving gives me an insane case of road rage and I can't parallel park to save my life."
"So, where are you headed for the weekend then?" asked Tony.
"The countryside," Nicky replied vaguely, giving him a curt shrug of her shoulders. "I'll need you to pick me up on Monday, though. It's just a short trip. You know I can never stay away from the office for too long…"
"Eight o'clock?" Tony asked.
"You know it," Nicky said, giving him a thumb's up. She reached back into the car for the briefcase set on the seat beside her. "Enjoy your weekend off, Tone. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"What haven't you done?" Tony teased, before Nicky closed the door in his face.
She was standing on the sidewalk directly in front of an elegant Townhouse strip made from white stone. It was three levels tall, not including the finished basement that walked out into her private garden, complete with a hot tub. Her townhouse boasted five spacious bedrooms, five bathrooms, two living rooms, and a kitchen that would be any chef's dream. The place was beautiful from head to toe and entirely over-the-top. Nicky loved living there though and had called it home for almost thirteen years. It was a great place for entertaining and she filled all the extra bedrooms with friends, anytime they felt like staying over.
"I'm home!" Nicky announced, swinging open the front door and stepping into the foyer. It was bright and open. The sun shone down on the whole place from the glass panelled window in the ceiling. The winding staircase curved through the house up all of its levels and could be seen from the entrance in its entirety.
"Hello, Miss. Nicky," Paloma greeted her with a smile, which Nicky returned.
Paloma was not dressed in her maid's uniform but in a comfortable pair of jeans and a linen tunic. Nicky had promised her former nanny if she agreed to come work for her that she would never be as fussy of an employer as her mother before her. Paloma lived in the townhouse with her, and instead of the maid's room off the kitchen, Nicky had given her her own suite upstairs and free reign of the house as a valued member of the family.
It might not have always been obvious when Nicky was growing up, but she did everything now to ensure Paloma knew how much she appreciated everything she did for her. The older woman might have wrinkles on her cheeks and around the eyes that hadn't been there before, and her black hair had turned an attractive silver grey, but she was still as robust as ever. Nicky loved having her there.
"How is she?" Nicky asked eagerly. It was the first question out of her mind every single day when she got home from work. She always felt guilty about going, giving so much of herself away when she could have easily stayed at home. Nicky didn't need to work for them to continue to enjoy the privileged lifestyle they had, but she was passionate and devoted to the foundation she had built from the ground herself. It was her baby.
Paloma reached her hands out for the briefcase and watched as Nicky bent down to remove her shoes. She'd stayed on the straight and arrow since her release from prison nearly fifteen years ago. She'd stayed sober and was a regular at AA meeting, even now. Nicky never wanted to take her second chance for granted, especially when it was a gift that was denied to so many others. So, she'd thrown herself into self care to aid her recovery and then started her foundation to give back by helping other addicts and their families cope. Her organization had grown into a successful and recognized treatment center, and Nicky couldn't have been prouder. It was the part of her life she was most proud of and every single day was busy and fulfilling.
"Oh, she's fine," Paloma assured her. "She hasn't talked to me much today, though."
Nicky chewed on her bottom lip and nodded her head. This news didn't surprise her. "She's mad at me," she sighed. "I think a weekend away together will do us some good. I've been so busy lately and she's been...difficult."
"Like mother, like daughter?" Paloma suggested with an understanding smile. "I remember you were the same way at that age."
"Don't say that," Nicky groaned, tossing her head back dramatically. "I'm pretty sure I was a million times worse though."
"Water under the bridge," Paloma reminded her, as she always did. "You turned out pretty good in the end."
Nicky flashed her nanny a grateful smile, her brown eyes sparkling. She was happy. Happier than she had ever been in her life, proud of the woman she was, especially since she had had a hell of a time becoming her. Her life was blessed and to anyone peering through the glass, it would seem she had it all. A gorgeous home, money to travel anywhere in the world if she wanted, a beautiful twelve-year-old daughter, and amazing friends that had seen her at some of her lowest points and still loved her.
Nobody saw the doubts and insecurities that revisited her nearly every night no matter how successful she had become. They didn't realize that even when she was holding back an addict's hair while they puked and cried from the pain, that the urge for a hit was still in her. And nobody could fathom the guilt she forever harboured in her heart, despite every effort to make what she'd had to do count for something.
"Is Galina in her room?" Nicky asked.
"Yes," Paloma nodded. "I told her to start packing because I knew you wanted to leave right away."
"It's a long drive," Nicky reasoned. Her lips twisted anxiously and she brushed her hair back from her face.
"I think she's a little nervous," Paloma confided, speaking in a hushed whisper. She took a couple of steps closer to her former nannying charge, now the parent. "She won't say much, but I think it's hard for her to see her in that place."
Nicky nodded her head again slowly. "I still want her to come this time though," she said firmly. "I probably should have been more consistent about taking her for visits but it's awkward for me too, you know? I don't like going either."
"It means the world to her when you do," Paloma reminded Nicky gently. "That's what you always tell me when you come back. You're always glad afterwards that you went."
"We're all she has left," Nicky said quietly. "But sometimes being a good person really sucks."
Paloma flashed Nicky an understanding sort of smile. "Shall I put this in your office for you?" she asked, motioning to the suitcase she was holding with both hands.
"Please," Nicky nodded. She padded over to the stairs in her nylon clad feet. Gripping the banister, she hurried up the winding staircase, taking precautions not to slip.
Her daughter's bedroom was on the upper level. She said she liked to be on the top floor so that she could see the stars, which were never even visible over the city lights anyway. Nicky suspected that her daughter really just liked being on her own floor because it provided maximum privacy. The door was closed and locked, Nicky was not surprised to discover, when she tested it.
"Galina?"
"What?" the twelve-year-old called back.
"Honey, it's time to go," Nicky sighed. "Are you packed?"
"Nearly."
"Open up," Nicky urged, tapping her nails impatiently against the wood of the door.
She heard some grumbling on the other side and then the sound of lock clicking open before the door swung open to reveal the girl, who could have been Nicky's twin. Her hair was wild and long and enormous brown eyes. She was wearing a pair of pajama shorts and a pink camisole.
"Kid, you're not even dressed," Nicky complained, stepping into the room.
Every inch of the pale blue walls was covered in posters and photographs of Galina and her friends. The desk under the window was buried under messy stacks of homework and clothes that had been dumped there. More clothes littered the floor and spilled out of the closet. On the dishevelled bed was an open suitcase that so far just held a never used hairbrush, a bottle of strawberry scented shampoo, and their pet Bichon Frise.
"You're nearly packed?" Nicky raised her eyebrows at her daughter.
Galina pouted, sticking out her bottom lip and crossing her arms across her chest. "I don't even want to go," she complained.
"Come on, honey," Nicky groaned tiredly. She walked over to the dresser and began to pick out the proper number of socks, panties, and training bras her daughter would need for a weekend away. "We're going to have fun."
"No, we're not," Galina argued. "How is going to a place like that fun for anyone?"
"We'll do other things too," Nicky reminded her. "I've booked us a nice hotel and I was thinking maybe we could rent a boat and go out on the lake. Pack a picnic. That sounds fun, doesn't it?"
"I guess," Galina shrugged.
"Work with me a little," Nicky pleaded, tossing the undergarments into the open suitcase and then removing the dog. "Go get dressed and I'll finish packing for you."
Galina whined a little but dragged her feet into the ensuite bathroom to do as she was told. Nicky quickly picked out some clean clothes from the closet and placed them into the suitcase. She understood her daughter's reluctance. It wasn't easy to see anyone like that, and at Galina's young age, she didn't understand why things happened the way that they did.
Nicky finished packing and then walked impatiently into the bathroom, where her daughter was taking her time in a lingering shower. "Come on, you," she prodded, shaking the shower curtain to get her attention. "Grandma is waiting."
Thank you for reading.