called my phone twelve times.
It was dead on the floor, face-down under the crib skirt, still dusted with the little gray lint balls I had meant to vacuum before we left for the hospital to have our son.
Then he called the nanny.
She was named Beth, twenty-two, very serious, and she had not started yet.
“Mr. Novak?” she said. “I’m supposed to come Monday.continue reading …