The Nanny Diaries Part 26

I regain my composure as Hairy follows her, barely evading George's stealth attack. "I'm just on my way downtown, actually," I say to the floor. George stands under my chin to receive a drip. I reach for thephone,hopingJosh'11bepleasedtohearfromme.

The next morning I dig throughevery pocketuntil I find thenapkin on which Josh wrote thereal estate people's name. I do aquickprayer fortheapartment-deprivedanddialtheofficenumber.

"Hehlow!"A horrendousNewYork accentanswers ontheseventhring.

"h.e.l.lo,I'm lookingforPat."

"She doesn't workhereanymore."

"Oh.Well, perhapsyoucanhelpme?I'm lookingtorent astudioforJulyfirst."

"Can't helpyou."

"What?"

"Can't help you. It's only the beginning of the month. You want a place for July you showup at the end ofthemonthwith afistful of cash,sayatleasttwelve thousandtostart,andwe'll tawk."

"Cash?"

"Cash."

"I'm sorry,twelve thousandincash?"

"Cash.Forthelandlord.You've gottacome with thefirstyear's rentincash."

"Theentire firstyear?"

"Andyouhavetobringdoc.u.mentationprovingthatyounet,net, mindyou,forty-four times themonth's rent,andyour guarantors?

"Mywhat?"

"Guarantors. he people who are going to guarantee that the rent gets paid even if you die, typically, your parents. But they must live in the tristate area so their a.s.sets can be seized and they have to net at leastonehundredtimes therent."

"Thatseems alittle extreme. I justwant asmall studio,nothing fancy?

"Oh, my Gawd. This is June! June! Every American under the age of thirty is graduating from somethingandmoving here."

"But all thatincash?"

"Honey, the Wall Street kids all get relo money from their companies. You want to beat them out you gotta payupfront."

"Oh,myG.o.d."

Shetakes a deepbreath. "Whatwereyoulookingtospend?"

"I don't know. . . six,sevenhundred."

"A month?" She holds thephone away from her mouth while shecackles. "Honey, do us all a favor and lookintheVoice for a share."

"ButI don't wanttoshare."

"ThenI wouldgetmyself anapartmentinQueensand acanofpepperspray."

"Well, doyouhaveanylistings inBrooklyn?"

"We don't dotheboroughs."Shehangsup.

Thehairs onthebackof myneckstandupasI hearthedistinct tearof a condomwrapperfromtheother side of Charlene's screen. Ugh! I throw myself down on the bed, pulling the pillows over my ears.

Forgetquitting, bygraduation I'll bebeggingMrs. Xtoletmemove in.

H. H. gives Grandma another twirl around the dance floor to the strains of the salsa band she has hired fortheeveningfrom her favorite Mexicanrestaurant. Herapartmentisaglowincolorfulpaperlanterns.

"And he can dance!" she calls out to where my parents and I are sitting on her terrace, her flamenco skirtswingingasheturnsher.

Momleansintowardme. "He's adorable."

"I know,"I saywith pride.

"Hey, watch it. Father's present," Dad says jokingly from where he sits in the chaise beside us. The evening is warm and Grandma set the food up out here where my friends mingle with my parents'

friendsaroundthecandlelittables.

"Thatguyover therewants to payme tosculptmyelbows," Sarahsays, coming over with two plates of cakeandhandingonetomymother.

"Yeah,sure. tstartswith theelbows.. ." Dadwarns'her.

Thesongfinishesand H. H. andGrandmaapplaudtheband.

"Darling!" Grandmacomes outonhis arm. "Didyougetsomecake?"

"Yes, Gran,"I say.

"You." My grandmother snaps her fingers at my reclining dad. "Get out there and give your wife a twirl." Mom stands, extending her hand in Dad's direction. They shuffle off in step to the music. "How are my darlings?" Grandma asks as she and H. H. sit down on the chaise. "Has everyone had enough to eatanddrink?"

"The party is divine, Frances," Sarah thanks her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make sure our friendJoshuaisn't offlosinghis paella."Shedisappearsontothedancefloor.

I leanbacktolookupatthestars. "It's strangetoactuallybefinishedwith school?

"Life isschool,darling," Grandmacorrectsme,takinga forkfulofDad's unfinishedcake.

"ThenI'm inRealEstate101,"I say, pickingup myforktojoin her. "I only havetheweekendafter I get backfromNantuckettofindanapartmentandget all mystuffout ofChezCharlene."

THE NANNY DIARIES "That's Mrs. Hairytoyou," H. H. interjects. Grandmareachesout herbangledarmtosqueezemyhand. "I'm sosorryyoucan't staywith me,butI've already rearranged the guest room for Orve's potting wheel." This will be Orve's second summer-in!residence with Grandma. She has a long-held summer tradition of hosting fledgling artists from all parts of the globe. hey teach her technique in exchange for sumptuous room and board. "You'll find something. havefaith."

"So doI,darling," H. H. says, mimicking mygrandmother's ebullienttone. Shewinksathima.s.shestandsandI notice a glint ofblueather throat. "New necklace, Grandma? It's charming." "Isn't it? I was in Bendel's last week and there were these little blue lacquer letters." She fingers the tiny 5 and SL hanging on the gold chain around her neck. "Theywere all bythemselves inthedisplaycase,therestofthealphabetmust havesold.I justhadsuch a good laugh, get it? FQ, say it real fast." She laughs deeply as she merenguesher way back inside and, forthefirst timesincethis afternoon's ceremony,I am alonewith H. H.

"Come on," he says softly, taking my hand and leading me over to the stone bal.u.s.trade overlooking the park. "I think your family rocks." "Believe it or not, I can't complain," I say, placing my arms around himaswe lookoutacross thecity.

"I'm going to miss you so much," he says, giving me a squeeze. "Sure you are. While you're off in Amsterdamwith all thep.o.r.nstars,smokingthepot?

"It's The Hague.A full twenty minutes from all that. No p.o.r.n stars. No pot. Just me, missing you, and a wholelotofpolitical prisoners with grievances."

I turn my head and reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him. "Those political prisoners, whine, whine, whine,"I murmur.

Hekissesthetopofmynoseandthenmyforehead. "Andwhat aboutyou?Stuckatthebeachwith all thoselifeguards,poolboys, cabanaboys?

"Oh, my G.o.d. I'm not going to the Riviera.'m going to stinky little Nantucket." I smack my hand on topoftherailing. "s.h.i.t. I forgottocheckmymessages!"

Herollshis eyes. "Nan?

"Wait, wait,wait. t'll only takeme twominutes. I justhavetocallmymachineandfindoutwhattime they're pickingmeupfromtheferrytomorrow. Don't move, I'll berightback!"

I go into Grandma's bedroom to use the salmon-pink Princess phone on the night table, moving aside a few of her needlepoint pillows to sit on the sateen bedspread.As I punch the answering-machine code into the keypad the soft light of the room reminds me of sleep-overs from my childhood when she wouldleavethelampsonuntil I fellasleep.

Mrs. X's voice comes through like ice cubes dropped down the back of my dress. "Oh, Nanny, good news. ur friends the Horners are flying up tomorrow at nine and have graciously offered to let you come along. So you'll be in Nantucket by nine-thirty in the morning. Now, Nanny, these are very dear friends of ours so I'm counting on you to be timely about this. Plan to meet them at the Westch-ester CountyAirportintheprivate-plane departurearea.You'll needtotaketheseven-fiftyMetro-North train to Rye and a taxi or something to get out to the airport. They have three girls, so they should be easy to spot. Now, they're doing this as a favor, so you really can't be late.Actually, you might want to plan to beatGrandCentralStationbysix-fiftyjusttogive yourself time? Beep.

"Your machinecut me off. I'll needyou to stop by while you're out and about and pick up an article I've leftwith James for youon Lyme disease. Horrible.Also, I'll needyouto find deer-tick repellentsuitable for afour-year-oldandmakesureit's hypoallergenic,soitwon't irritatehis skin.AndI wouldappreciate itifyoucouldgoto Polo andpick up six pairs of knee-high cotton socks,white. Takeone of Grayer's shoeswith you soyou get the right size. I've left a pair with James so you can get them when you pick up the article and then juststickit all inyour carry-on. Perfect. Seeyoutomorrow!"

Beep.

"Nanny."I havetrouble placing the voice at first. "As per myletter of instructions, I'll be arriving atthe apartment tomorrow. I trust you had no trouble finding the foie gras. Have a good time in Nantucket andpleasesayh.e.l.lotoGrayerforme."

AH right. 1 grew up and then became a governess. [Pause] I'd really tike to start a conversation, but there's noonetostart aconversation with ... I don't haveanybodyatall.

. HEANDRYEEV1CHFAMILY GOVERNESS,THECHERRYORCHARD.

CHAPTER TEN.

AndWe GaveHera.n.a.ll*-expenses^paidVa cation "Good-bye!" the Horners shout from their car as it pulls out of the Nantucket Airport parking lot, leavingmealonebythesideofthetarmac.

I sit down on my duffel bag and fight the urge not to throw up as only someone can who's just flown twenty-five minutes on a six-seater plane through torrential downpours, unrelenting fog, and ma.s.sive turbulence with four adults, three children, a goldfish, a guinea pig, and a golden retriever. Only my considerationfortheHornergirls preventedmefromscreamingatevery drop.

I pullmysweatshirt closer aroundmeagainstthesaltywindandwait.

Andwait.

Andwait.

Oh,no,that's okay,that'sfiiine. No,I wasn't outlateatmygraduationparty. No,youtakeyourtime.'ll just sit here in the cold drizzle. No, I think what's important is that I'm here, in Nantucket, and that you and your family can rest easy just knowing I am somewhere within a ten-mile vicinity of you. I think what's important, you know, paramount really, is that I'm not off living my life, attending to whatever I need to be doing, but am permanently onpauseforyouandyourf.u.c.kingfamily?

TheRover pulls inandbarelyslowsto aroll astheymotionfor me tojumpin.

"Nanny!" Grayer screams. "I got a Kokichu!" He holds up a yellow j.a.panese toy as I open the door.

Thereis averylargecanoeprecariouslyangledinthetrunksothat.i.tsticksoutover halftheback pa.s.sengerseat.

"Nanny,becarefuloftheboat. It's anantique,"Mrs. Xsays proudly.

I maneuver myself under the canoe, pull my bag between my feet, crouch low, and reach around to pat Grayer's legingreeting. "Hey,Grove,I missedya."

"Theantiquinghereiswonderful. I'm hopingtofind anewcouchtableforthesecondguestbedroom."

"Dreambig,honey," Mr. X grumbles underhis breath.

Ignoringhim,shelooksupatme inhervisor mirror. "So,whatwastheplanelikeinside?"

"Urn,ithadbrown leatherseats?I say, myheadwedgedinto mychest.

"Didtheyserveyouanything?"

"TheyaskedifI wantedpeanuts."

"You're so lucky. Jack Horner designs fabulous shoes. I absolutely adore Caroline. I worked on a benefit last year for her brother's campaign. It's such a shame they live in Westchester or we'd just be the best of friends." She checks her teeth in the mirror. "Now, I want to go over the plan for the afternoon.It turnsout thePiersonbarbecueis formal, so I thought.i.t'd beniceforyou guys to justenjoy somedowntimeatthehouse. Relaxandenjoytheplace."

"Great. That sounds like fun." I attempt to look over at Grover in his car seat with visions of us pa.s.sed outinmatchingchaises onthelawn.

"Now, Caroline was supposed to call about dinner, so just give her my cell number when she rings. I've tackedit up next tothe phonein the kitchen."Thanks,becauseit usually takes me about nine and a half monthstomemorize aten-digit number.

We pull off the main road onto a densely wooded drive and I'm surprised to see that quite a few of the treesarestill bare.

"They've had a cold spring."Mrs. X readsmythoughts. Thedrive opensinto a loopinfrontofwhatcan only be described as a sprawling, ramshackle 1950s bungalow. The white paint is peeling, the screen doorhas aholeinit,and apieceofroofingdangles at a precariousanglefromthegutter.

"Well, we're here. Casac.r.a.p," Mr. Xsays,steppingdownfromthecar.

"Darling, I thought we agreed? She gets out and chases after him, leaving me to unbuckle Grayer and get my bag out of the back. I hold what's left of the screen door open for Grayer, although he probably couldjustcrawlthrough.

"Honey,it's notmyfaulttherealtor's photographswereoutdated."

"I'm justsayingthatforfivethousanddollars a week,maybe youcouldhavedone abit moreresearch."

Mrs. X turnstous, beaming. "Grayer,whydon't youshowNannyherroom?"

"Come on, Nanny, it's reallyreally cool!" I follow him up the stairs to a little room at the end of the hallway. Thereare twotwin beds closetogether underthesharplyslanted lowceilingand Grayer's stuff is on one of them. "Isn't this cool, Nanny? We get to have a sleep-over every night!" He sits, bouncing on his bed. I stoop, careful not to b.u.mp my head, to fish a warm sweater and jeans out of my bag, as it wasactuallysummer backinNewYork andI optimistically woreshorts.

"Okay, G. I'm justgoingtochange." "AmI goingtoseeyounaked?"

"No, I'll gointhebathroom. Wait here.Where's thebathroom?"

"There!" Hepointstothedooracross thehall.

I push it open. "AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" And am confronted by a red-haired little girl, shriekingonthetoilet. "Thisismyprivacy!"