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“I know that the move is also causing some stress for them,” I said. “And, I'm hoping to make the transition as easy as possible. I want things to be as normal and stable, per se, as they can be.”
Which was why I wanted someone who was bilingual, who spoke both French and English. Moving to a foreign land filled with strange and different sights you weren't used to would be scary enough. But moving to a place with all of that, and where the language wasn't your own would be downright terrifying for anybody. I imagined it would be double that for my little girls.
But, I hoped Avery could teach them French, so they could acclimate to their new lives and new home much quicker and much easier.
“I bet it's very stressful on them,” she said. “And if I'm hired, I promise to absolutely do whatever I can to help them adjust to their new home.”
I nodded. “I'm pleased to hear you say that,” I said. “I'll be right back then. Please excuse me.”
I stood up and left my office, my footsteps echoing loudly around me as I walked down the hall. The large spiral staircase led to the second floor of my house; more specifically, to the playroom in which my children were playing.
As I ascended the stairs, I walked past photos that showcased my once perfect family. Wedding photos of Bree and myself, smiling and as happy as only two people so deeply in love could be. Those were followed by photos of the birth of my girls – twins. We'd been ecstatic when they were born, completely over the moon. We'd always wanted a big family, and we thought having two perfectly precious little girls was the perfect way to start things off.
Little had we known at the time, those would be the only children I'd ever have with my wife.
The staircase wound around and ended in a loft that overlooked the foyer down below. I turned down the hallway, striding to the first door on the right, and pushed it open. I smiled, finding my two beautiful girls exactly where I'd expected to.
They weren't identical twins, though most people assumed they were. They just looked very similar. Lola was the smaller of the two – an inch shorter and about five pounds less than her sister. Her hair was a darker shade of brown than Maisie’s and looked a lot closer to the color of my hair than her mother's. Both girls had their mom's serious brown eyes, along with her pale skin and freckles though.
From where they were sitting beside each other on the floor, Maisie looked up at me first. They were playing Candyland, the game spread out on the floor in front of them. Maisie's eyes always looked so much older than they should for a girl of six. It was as if she understood the world better than most kids her age. Maybe better than she should.
Lola, on the other hand, always looked a bit uneasy, almost frightened of her own shadow. It was as if she expected something to jump out from around the corner and bite her at any given moment. Maisie protected and guarded her sister, and the two had a bond stronger than I could ever imagine. Probably even stronger than I understood.
“Would you like to meet your potential new nanny?” I asked them, smiling as I leaned against the door frame.
Maisie smiled wide and her eyes lit up. “I'd love to!”
Lola's eyes grew wide. She stared at her sister, as if she wanted to share her enthusiasm, but she couldn't muster up the nerve. She didn't say anything and looked away. She was always my shy, reserved little girl, while Maisie talked to anyone and everyone.
“Come on then,” I said.
Maisie stood up and rushed to the door, her smile as wide as her eyes were large. When she noticed that Lola wasn't following her though, she turned around and went back for her sister, grabbing her by the hand and hauled her to her feet.
“It's going to be fun, Lola-bear,” she said. “Just wait and see.”
Lola-bear. My heart ached hearing the nickname their mother had given Lola falling from Maisie's lips. It stuck, with all of us calling her that, almost as easily as if it had been her given name. But, to hear Maisie use it struck a chord within me and made my eyes well with tears.
“Okay,” Lola said, her voice soft.
She slowly stood up and walked over, standing beside her sister.. The three of us left the playroom together, Maisie's hand in mine, Lola's hand in hers. I shut the door behind us, but not before I took one last look into the colorful, rainbow colored room that Bree had designed for the girls herself. She'd picked out everything – including the massive vintage dollhouse that took up one entire wall. That had been custom built to her exact specifications.
The girls loved it, and it would be coming with us to Paris without question. The rest of the room though – the mural Bree had painted herself with the rainbow and the clouds – that couldn't be packed in a suitcase and brought along. We had plenty of photos of course, and I was keeping this house for trips back to New York City when I needed to be there. But, for the most part, our move would be the end of an era.
More tears threatened to fall as I thought about the sort of symbolism of closing this door behind me – and thought about what it might feel like when I did
it for the last time.
“Daddy?” Maisie said.
The girls were already at the stairs, staring back at me.
“I'm coming,” I said, doing my best to sound chipper.
I tried to subtly wiping my eyes with my hand so they didn't see the tears. The last thing I wanted was to upset them even more. They were already struggling with the idea of leaving their home behind, they didn't need to know that their dad was struggling with it too.
Maisie and Lola held hands and walked in front of me down the stairs, taking their time. Maisie used the opportunity to pepper me with all kinds of questions about Avery the whole way down.
“Is she nice?” she asked.
