At four : forty five p.m. on a treacherously humid Wednesday, Jemima Kirke is at the stoop of her apartment with a keening toddler. The youngster, two a long time aged, is Kirke&rsquos daughter, Rafaella, and Rafaella does not desire to depart her mom. But Kirke has factors to do. So with a kiss, a pat on the diaper, and a shoo, Rafaella ( however mourning) is dispatched to a nanny. &ldquoShe&rsquos going to engage in at a facility close by,&rdquo Kirke clarifies, stepping inside of the raisin- colored Brooklyn making wherever she lives with her spouse.
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