The Nanny Diaries Part 25

What would she possibly be hoping for? A little family vacation? Are they going to thrash it out over the hookedrug? Beateach other senseless with canoe paddles? Put Ms. Chicago up in the guest house? Ms. Chicago?

"f.u.c.k!" I leap up, patting myself down. "f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k." I have keys, I have coffee, I have a wallet. "I have no rucking envelope." I jerk in about five different directions as I run through the last two hours and the mult.i.tude of places I could've left it. I sprint back to the coffee place, the orange couch, Dr. Clarkson's mailbox.

I stand,wheezingandsweaty,infrontofthecomputer centerhelpdesk.

"Look, man, you've gotta clear out or for real we're gonna have to call security." Dylan tries to sound authoritative.

I can't speak.I'm sick.I wastrying tohaveintegrity. Instead,I'm thegirl whostoleeighthundreddollars and apair ofdirty underwear. I'm afelonand afreak.

"Dude, I mean it, you better get out of here. Bob's on the noon shift and he's not nearly as cool as me." Noon.Right. GottagograbGrayeranddraghimtoDarwin's birthdayparty.

"STOP IT! I DON'T LIKE THAT!" Grayer screams, his face flattened into the metal rails that line the upperdeckoftheboat.

I crouch down to whisper in his a.s.sailant's ear. "Darwin, if you do not step away from Grayer in the nexttwosecondsI'm goingto throw you overboard." Darwin turns in shock to my smiling face. Good Witch/Bad Witch on three hoursof sleepandouteighthundreddollars; kid, youdon't wanttomess withme today.

He falters a fewfeet back and Grayer, a red imprint runningacross his right cheek where it was pressed against the pipe, wraps himself around my leg. Grayer has only been the focus of Darwin's torture for the past few minutes, joining the ranks of fifty other terrorized birthday-party guests, held prisoner for thelasttwohoursontheCircleLine JazzfestCruise.

"Darwin! Honey, it's almost time for your cake. Go on over to the table so Sima can help you with the candles." Mrs. Zuckerman glides over to us in her Gucci ballet flats and matching pedal pushers. She is a vision in pink and gold and, coupled with her mult.i.tude of diamonds, practically blinding in the afternoonsun.?

"Well, Grayer, what's the matter? Don't you want cake?" She tosses her three-hundred-dollar highlights in Grayer's direction and leans against the rail beside me. I'm far too tired for small talk, but am able to putonwhatI hopeis a charmingsmile.

"Greatparty," I finallymuster,hauling Gup ontomyhip andout of harm's way, so hecan lookover my shoulderintothewhite-crested wakebehindus.

"Sima and I have been planning it for months. We really had to put our heads together to top last year's overnight at Gracie Mansion,but I just said 'Now, Sima! Creativity is partof the special something you bringto ourfamily,sogotoit!'And I tell you, shehas reallydoneit." Screamsemergefrom thesternof the boat and Sima races past us, panic-stricken. Darwin follows closely behind, lunging out after her with aflamingTiffany's lighter.

"Darwin," Mrs. Zuckerman admonishes him lightly, "I said to help Sima, not set her on fire." She laughs gaily, taking the lighter from him and clicking the top down. She hands it sternly to a red-faced Sima. "See that he doesn't run around with this next time. I shouldn't have to remind you that it was a gift fromhis grandfather."

Sima accepts the sterling silver box, without lifting her eyes. She takes Darwin's hand and pulls him delicately backtohis cake.

Mrs. Zuckerman leans in to me, the gold Cs on her gla.s.ses gleaming. "I'm so lucky, really. We're like sisters." I smile and nod. She nods back at me. "Please give my regards to Grayer's mom and please be sure to tell her that I have the name of a great d-i-v-o-r-c-e lawyer for her. He got my friendAlice ten percentaboveher prenup."

I instinctively putmyhandonGrayer's head.

"Well, you two have fun!" She tosses her hair to the other shoulder and walks back to the cake melee. I guess Mr. X's residenceattheYale Clubhasbecome common knowledge.

"So, Grove, ready for some cake?" I shift him to my other hip, straighten his tie and touch his cheek wherethepipeimprinthadbeen.His eyes aregla.s.sy andhe's clearly as.e.xhaustedas1 am.

"Mytummy hurts. I don't feelgood,"hemumbles. I trytoremember whereI sawabathroomsign.

"What kind of hurt?" I ask, attempting to define the nuances of motion sickness versus heartburn to a four-year-old.

"Nanny, I? He moans into my shoulder before pitching forward to throw up. I manage to aim him over the edge so that the Hudson can receive the thrust of his vomit, leaving my sweater dripping with only about athird.

I rub his back. "Grover, it's been a very long day." I wipe his mouth with my hand and he nods his head intomyshoulderinagreement.

TwohourslaterGrayer isholdingthefrontofhis pantsandbouncingonhis NikesintheXes'vestibule.

"Grove, please just hold it one more second." I give the front door a last shove and it finally gives way. "There. Go!" Herunspastme.

"Oof!" I hear a thud. I push the door farther open and see Grayer sprawled on a pile of beach towels, felledby aTracyTookerbox.

"G,youokay?"

"Thatwa.s.socool,Nanny. Man,youshouldhaveseenit. Standthere,I'm gonnadoitagain."

"Yeah, no." I squat down to take off his sneakers and pull off his pukey windbreaker. "Next time you might not be so lucky. Go pee." He runs off. I gingerly tiptoe over the hatbox, the pile of towels, two Lilly Pulitzer shoppingbags, three L. L. Beanboxes, and a bagof charcoalbriquettes. Well, we're either goingtoNantucket,or moving totheburbs.

"Nanny? Is that you?" I look over and see that the dining room table is completely covered in Mr. X's summer clothes, theonlythingsof his thatConnieandI hadn't packedup.

"Yes. We justgothome,"I call,moving twoBarneys bags outoftheway.

"Oh."Mrs. Xcomes out,holdinganarmful of pastelcashmere sweaters. "You're coveredinvomit." She recoilsslightly. "Grayerhad a bitof anaccident?

"I really wish you'd keep better track of what he eats at those parties. How is Mrs. Zuckerman?" "She sendsyouher regards?

"She's so creative. She always throws the best birthdays." She stares at me expectantly, eagerly waiting formetoreenacttheafternoon,complete with sockpuppetsandcommedia dell arte. I am justtootired.

"She,um,wantedtopa.s.son a referral." "Yes?"

I take a deepbreath, bracingmyself. "She saidthatshe,uh, knows a reallygoodlawyer."I lookdown at Mr. X's clothes.

"Nanny," she says icily, "these are my husband's clothes for the trip." She turns away from me and her voice becomes resiliently perky. "I haven't started packing myself, yet. No one can tell me what the weather will be like. Some of our friends broiled, some nearly froze." She drops the sweaters onto the table,sendingseveral balled-up tennissocksrollingontothefloor. "Maria!"

THE NANNY DIARIES "Yes, ma'am." Mariapushesopentheswingingdoor tothe kitchen. "Canyoufoldthese?" "Yes, ma'am. Right away." She ducks back in the kitchen. "I don't want to overpack, but I also don't want to have to do laundry while I'm there and I have no idea if they even have a decent dry cleaner on theisland.Also, thatreminds me,we'll beleavingonthefifteenth,promptly ateightA.M.?

"Is that Friday?" I ask. She looks up at me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you, it's just that the fifteenthisthedayofmygraduation." "So?"

"So,I won't beabletoleaveateight?

"Well, I don't think we can delay our departure on your account," she says, walking to the bags in the fronthall.

"No, the thing is, my grandmother is throwing a party for me that evening, so I really can't leave until Sat.u.r.day."I followher.

"Well, therentalstartsonFriday,sowe can't leaveonSat.u.r.day,"shesays,asifexplainingtoGrayer.

"No,I understandthat. I'm sureI couldtake a busuponSat.u.r.day. I'd probablybetherebyfiveorso."

I follow her back to the dining room table where she adds her shoppingbags to the stockpile. "So what you're basically tellingme isthat,ofthefourteendays we needyou, youwill notbe available fortwoof them. I don't know, Nanny. I just don't know. We're invited to the Blewers' for dinner on Friday and the PiersonbarbecueonSat.u.r.day.I justdon't know?Shesighs. "I'll havetothinkaboutthis."

"I'm really sorry. If itwere anything else. But I reallycan't miss mygraduation."I benddowntopick up theerrantsocks.

"I supposenot.Well, letmediscuss itwith Mr. Xand I'll letyouknow."IfI canmiss mygraduation?

"Okay, also, I wanted to ask you about getting paid, becausemy rent is due this week?And you haven't paidmeinthreeweeks.AndI nowoweyour husband's girlfriendeighthundreddollars.

"I've beenso busy. I'll trytogettothebankthisweek.Thatis,a.s.soonasyouwrite upyour hoursforme, soI cangoover them? SheisinterruptedbynakedGrayerpeekingaroundthedoorway. "GRAYER!" sheshouts. We bothfreeze. "Whatisthehouserule?" Helooksupat her. "Nop.e.n.i.sesinthehouse?" "That's right. Nop.e.n.i.ses inthehouse.Wheredop.e.n.i.sesstay?"

"p.e.n.i.sesstayinthebedroom."

"Yes, in the bedroom. Nanny, would you see that he gets his clothes on?" Grayer walks solemnly ahead ofme,his barefeetmakingslidingnoises onthemarble.

I seetheballed-up clothes onthefloorofthebathroom.

"I hadanaccident." Hepushesatoneof his woodcarswith his toes.

"That's okay."I pickuptheclothesandturnonthebathwater. "Let's getyoucleanedup,okay,bud?"

"Okay."Heputshis arms out forme topickhim up.I pulloffmydirty sweatshirt and lifthim up.As we wait for the tub to fill I bounce him a little and walk back and forth. He gives the weight of his head to my shoulder and I wonder if he might be falling asleep. I walk him over to the mirror, wrapping him in a toweltokeephimwarm, anddiscover inthereflectionthathe's suckinghisthumb.

Nanny, I don. knowifyouwerefactoringtheferryintoyour calculations,butI havetopointouthtat.i.t canaddanotherfullhourtothejourney. Iwaswonderingif youcouldeither(a)catchtheeleveno. lock bus Friday night, which would get you to Nantucket at 6am or (b) take the 6am bus Sat.u.r.day morning,whichwouldgetyoutherebyone,intimeforthebarbecueifwe golate. Let me know, DearMrs. X, I really appreciate your looking into alternate transportation for me. While I in no way want to inconvenience you, I feel it would be impractical to commit to an earlier start time as I have to attend a number of graduation events on Friday evening. I will be in Nantucket by 7 P.M. and, of course, antic.i.p.ateyouwill adjust mypayaccordingly.

Speakingofwhich,I waswonderingifyou've hadthechancetogettothebankasmyrentisdue.

Pleasefindattached a listof myhoursasyourequested.Again,I reallyappreciatetheoptions.

Thanks! Nanny Nanny, Iam alittlepuzzledbyyourrecalcitranceregardingourdeparture. However,Istillhopethatwe canreachacompromise. Perhapsyoucouldarrivebythreeandtake ataxitothePiersons?

DearMrs. X, As I, of course, do not wish to be anything other than accommodating I might be able to make it there bysix.

Nanny Nanny, Never mind. The woman the housecleaning agency furnished us with will look after Grayer until yougetthere.

p.s. I would like to have a conversation regarding the hours you listed for Wednesday the third. I believe I tookhimshoppingthatday.

DearMrs. X, I defer to your records regarding the 3rd. Also, as I mentioned, I'll need to leave by two on Thursday becauseI havemythesisdefense. Thanks,Nanny DearMrs. X, Just a quickreminder thatmythesis defenseistomorrow,so I'll needtoleaveat2 o'clocksharp.Also,if youcouldpayme,thatwouldbegreat.

DearMrs. X, I'll seeyouattwo!

"Where is she!" I look at the oven clock for the millionth time in five minutes. 2:28. I am supposed to be defendingmy thesis in exactly forty-seven minutes. Myentire academic career is aboutto culminate withoutmeas apanelof professorsinterrogatesanemptychairaboutchilddevelopment!

"Don't shout."Grayer looksup, his eyebrows scrunched.

"I'm sorry,Grove. Will youexcuseme for asecond?"

"Are yougonnapee?"

"Yes. Don't forget your milk." I leave him finishing his melon and walk into the maid's bathroom, turn onthefaucet,shutthe door, flush the toilet, and scream into a hand towel. "f.u.c.k!" My voice is absorbed by the terry cloth.

"Where the f.u.c.k is she? f.u.c.king f.u.c.k." I sit down on the bathroom floor, tears starting to well at the cornersof myeyes.

"f.u.c.k." I shouldhavewritten "two o'clock"with lipstickonevery mirrorintheapartment!I shouldhavepinned a hugenumber two on the end of her pashmina when she wanderedout this morning!I debate grabbing Grayer and runningdown Madison screaming her name like Marion Brando. My frustration becomes a hysterical silentgiggle, tearsstill runningdownmyface.

I take a deep breath, slapmycheeks a little, dry myeyes, andtrytocompose myself for Grover. ButI'm still giggling a bitwhenI walkbackintothekitchentofindMrs. Xstandingover him.

"Nanny, I'd appreciateitifyoudidn't leaveGrayerunattendedwith silverware."

I lookdownatthespoononhis Linnaeusplacemat. "I'm sorry?

"My,you're dressedup."Shepicks a pieceofmelonoffGrayer's plate.

"Thanks,actually it's formythesisdefensewhich startsinthirty-five minutes."I headforthedoor.

"Oh, right. I thought there was something." She saunters over to put her alligator Kelly bag on the counter. "I made it to the bank this morning. Let's sit down in my office and go over the list you gave me?Shepulls anenvelopeout.

"Great,thanks,butI reallybetter run,"I sayover myshoulder.

Shestandswith onehandonherhip. "I thoughtthishadtobedonetoday."

"Well, ifI don't go I'll belate,"I callbackfromthefronthallwhereI leftmynotes.

Shesighsloudly,bringingme backintothekitchen.

"Besmart, Nanny!" Grayer craneshis headfromhis boosterseat. "You'll besmart!"

"Thanks,Grove."

"I'm extremely busy and right now is the only convenient time for me to do this. I don't know when I'll beabletositdownwith youagain,Nanny. I went all thewaytothebank?

"Great. No,let's do it. Thankyou." I pull out of mystackof papers a typed, revised list of all thehours I workedinthelastfiveweeks. "So,asyoucansee,itaverages betweenfourandfivehundred aweek."

She looks down at the paper for a few moments while I shift my weight from foot to foot. "This is a little higherthanweoriginally discussed."

"Well, theoriginallistI gaveyouwastwoweeksagoandI've accruedover sixtyhourssincethen."

She sighs and starts counting out twenties and fifties, slowly sliding them back and forth between her fingers to ensure that none of the bills are stuck together. She hands them over, her Hermes limoge banglesclankingtogether."It sureis a lotofmoney."

I smile back at her. "Well, it adds up over five weeks." I turn on my heels, brushing Grayer's head as I pa.s.s him. "Have a greatafternoon,guys!"

I slather conditioner into my hair and ma.s.sage the idea of quitting into my head. I imagine myself, undertheawning infrontof 721 Park,giving Mr. andMrs. X a good,swift cartoonkickthatlandsthem in the meridian shrubbery. Lovely. However, the image becomes much less clear with the addition of Grayer. Grover,inhis big tie,looksup atme expectantlywhile his parentsflail around inthemanicured shrubs. I sigh, pushing my face under the hot water. And then there's the money. I'm nauseated at the thoughtofhaving tomailMs. Chicagonearlyhalf ofwhatMrs. X finallypaidme today.

A little meow breaks my thoughts and I pull the curtain aside to see George, silhouetted in the candlelight, sitting primly beside the tub, waiting for me to splash him. I drop a little water on his head andhedartsbehindthetoiletintoshadow.

At least I have a quiet night to myself to celebrate a successfully defended thesis. And an eleven P.M. phone date with H. H. to look forward to. I wrap the towel around my torso, scoop up my clothes, and blow out the candle. Opening the bathroom door, I freeze at the sound of voices coming from the far endoftheapartment. Myend,tobeprecise.

"h.e.l.lo?" 1 call out into the bright light. I can always tell when Charlene is home because she turns on every singlelight.

"I'm home," Charlene calls back flatly. Myheart sinks. I pull the towel tight and walk past her screen to my side of the room. My desk lamp shines down on the candle I'd lit before getting in the shower. She standswithHairyPilot measuringmybed.

"It's kind of a mess in here, Nanny," she says, rolling up the tape measure. "Go over there and let's do thatsideoftheroom," sheinstructsHairy,whopushespastme,nearlysteppingonGeorgetostandnear mystereo.

"I hadmythesisdefensetoday,soI've beenatthelibraryevery night." I stepoutofthe way, tuckingmy underwear into a less visible spot in the ball under my arm as she walks with purpose to join her mate. "I'm sorry,canI helpyoutwowithsomething?"

She hands him one end of the tape measure and walks it back to the other wall. "I wanted to see if his couchwouldfithere." Mystomachtightens.Thisis theant.i.thesis of therelaxingeveningI hadin mind.

She stands straightening her navy skirt. "Nanny, I wanted to talk to you this week, but you never answeredthephone?

"Myleaseisup.I'm moving inattheendofthemonth,"Hairyvolunteers. Fabulous.

"So that gives you, like, two weeks to find something else. That should be plenty of time," she says, grabbing a penoffmydresser to write the measurements on a Post-it. "Julie and her fianceare coming over to play cards in an hour.Are you cool with that?" She steps past me. "G.o.d, it's so steamy back here. Are you taking showers in the darkagain?That's soweird."Sheshakesherhead.