Nana Visitor Young Novels & Stories

Serena stormed into the living room like a hurricane in designer heels, her eyes blazing as she locked onto Damien. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she hissed, waving her phone in the air. “These headlines are everywhere. ‘Damien Ross’s New Nanny Plays House with Billionaire and Baby.’ Are you trying to humiliate me?” Aunt Clara stepped out of Amy’s suite, positioning herself like a shield between Amy and the unfolding chaos. Theo, sensing the raised voices, started fussing in his high chair.

A perfect little doll she could use to get what she wanted. Nana walked into the room, her face pale and filled with sorrow. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the sleeping baby. “She’s beautiful, Yvonne,” Nana whispered, her voice trembling. “She is a true Cage.” Nana had been so excited when she heard about the birth of her granddaughters. Now, to have lost one, and their mother… it was too much.

Sylvia replied and took a large gulp from the water. "Okay" Mrs Jones nodded sadly and went back to the dishes. "Mum come on don't be sad, I promise to always check up on you" Sylvia hugged her from the back. "I know that but am sad that you will be leaving me alone" Mrs Jones said. "Mum, you know I love you right and am doing this for us, I need a job and I got one as a nanny so I have no choice than to take it" Sylvia said and stopped hugging her.

" The young girl was so enthusiastic about clinging to Scarlett, the fact that she saw a friend in Scarlett, she couldn't wait to show her all. "No dear, she can't enter your room, there's still an approval left before she can." Miss Maxwell said. "What approval! She's good, I like her why can't she be our nanny already?" Claire went berserk with a frown. Followed by a sigh, Scarlett leaned forward to say. "Your dad has to approve girl!" *** "Stage one approved, stage two approved, left with stage three." Scarlett counted with her fingers as she sat in the study as instructed.

I sighed. Great. She doesn't speak English. The old lady smiled. "Magadani said 'what do you want' " I gasped. "I want to know something about my son's nanny." I whispered. I felt like someone was watching me. The soothsayer , Magadani started her work. She was caressing the big orb glass ball on the table and was chanting some weird language. I just watched. Annoyed. I didn't have time for all this. I thought will give me my answers without all this. After a while; she spoke:

And he was calling the woman in his arms his wife. Fifth anniversary. That was supposed to be us! And then the confetti finished raining. I saw the face of the woman he was holding. My breath hitched. Yvonne Riverstein, the daughter of my family's nanny. What was she doing here? The crowd was eager to please them. "I've been hearing stories about your wife, Mr. Solomon. You love her a lot, they say. And she's the heiress of the Sheffields? My, she certainly looks the part."

"Please note it in the schedule." "Yes doctor," he said. She looked at us. "Follow me," she said. We followed her through the interior door and down a short corridor and through another door into a consultation room. Nana was already there. Sitting in the chair by the window. Young. Twenty one. Slight in a way that suggested the medication had been taking something from her for two years. Her hands in her lap. Her eyes when she looked up at us had the particular quality I recognised immediately.

All Anna's memories of the day that she met Sera suddenly rushed back. ... "Nana, right?" Sera sat in front of Anna and smiled. She was looking for some young girls to meet some people. "Yes, my name's Nana. I'm nineteen." Anna slightly nodded, she was confused because she lied about her age. "Oh, really?" Sera observed Anna, "You look younger than your age." Anna gently nodded, "Everyone always says as you." Sera saw Anna's shyness and then gently smiled at her. "Why do you know me and why do you take this job?"

Could it be that he doesn´t see this? “Don’t worry about him,” advises the girl sitting across from me, waving her tiny hand theatrically. She's much younger than the others, looking about ten, eleven years old at most. She has long blonde hair braided into two thick braids, tied at the ends with pink ribbons. Her forehead is covered by a straight-cut fringe, reaching up to her slightly defined eyebrows. Green eyes measure me with curiosity. She gleefully fidgets her short legs under the table, gently fidgeting. She's so low that she doesn’t even touch the floor with her feet. She is wearing a red long-sleeved dress, thick white tights and black shiny shoes. She reminds me of a porcelain d

The table was set for an army, and Zayn cracked another smile, finding it amusing, as he usually only had a plain cup of coffee in the morning when Nana wasn’t around to spoil him. "While you eat, I'll check on the young lady," Nana said, taking a white cloth and a small bowl. She left the kitchen without giving Zayn any chance to respond. Passing through the living room and heading straight to the room, entering slowly. "Hello!" she said in Arabic, watching the young woman shift until she opened her eyes. "Hi. Do you speak English?" Morgana observed the woman, who couldn’t be more than sixty years old. "Yes, of course. I'm Jamile. Sheik Zayn calls me Nana. How are you feeling today?"