took it downstairs and set myself up on a couch. The family I was babysitting for had one of those houses out of a Nancy Meyers film: the gleaming kitchen with a marble-top kitchen island next to a plush TV room and breakfast nook with three walls of windows; the doorbell that played a full concerto; the rooms that weren’t decorated, but curated. I understand the allure of this kind of space. Everything was new in this place, even the things that weren’t new. The antiques were polished to a shine; the books in the library were like set decorations from a box labeled “Intelligent, Wealthy
...more
