Chapter 5: Mother's Tea

Poppy's school held its autumn mothers' tea on Friday, and Giselle had been planning it for a month.

She stood in the doorway of the classroom in a cream dress and a pearl headband, holding Poppy's hand.

I stood at the back with the other nannies and a paper cup of lemonade.

Christian had come straight from a meeting.

He leaned against the wall beside me with his tie crooked, trying not to look like he'd run.

"I'm not supposed to be here," I whispered. "It's a mothers' event."

"Poppy asked for you," he whispered back. "Twice. She wouldn't get in the car without knowing you'd come."

I swallowed hard and said nothing.

The teacher clapped her hands.

Twelve small children sat in a half circle with paper flowers in their laps.

"Now each of you gives your flower to the person who takes care of you every day," the teacher said. "And you tell everyone why."

One by one the children toddled up.

A boy gave his to a grandmother and said she made good toast.

A girl gave hers to a mother in a business suit and said she always came to bedtime.

Then it was Poppy's turn.

Giselle's whole body leaned forward, glowing, and the other mothers watched with soft faces.

Poppy walked to the middle of the circle with her yellow paper flower in her fist.

She looked at Giselle.

She looked at the floor.

Then she looked straight across the room at me.

"Poppy," Giselle said sweetly, "come give Mommy your flower."

Poppy shook her head.

"Poppy."

"No," Poppy said.

The room went quiet.

"Sweetheart, we talked about this."

"You're not the one who sings," Poppy said.

Every mother in the room turned to look at Giselle.

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