Nancy’s Theory of Style (15 page)

Eugenia was swinging her stubby legs.
Nancy
tried not to react,
hoping that the grimy red rubber boots wouldn’t mark the upholstery.

Birdie said, “So you left Todd. That
type always cheats so don’t blame yourself. I knew he must be excruciating in
bed.”

Nancy
glanced at the child, but the girl was
looking off into mid-space. “Birdie! He didn’t cheat and I left temporarily to,
uhm, explore career possibilities.”

“Very loyal of you to pretend, but sad,
too. I once considered seducing Todd to save you. I’d have to get paralyzed
with drugs and drink to endure it, though, and you know how Sissy would twist
that,” she said speaking of her younger sister.

“Birdie!”

“You need to find a Greek man. They are
divinely passionate and know the art of making love to a woman,” Birdie said. Her
green eyes narrowed dreamily. “Yannis likes to undress me so slowly that by the
time---”

Nancy
quickly said, “Birdie, are you going
somewhere tonight? May I see your dress?”

Birdie stood and gracefully slipped off
her fur coat. The dress was an exquisitely draped jersey in a dark taupe-gray that
accentuated Birdie’s dramatic coloring. “Halston, would you believe it?” The
dress had a high neckline, and Birdie pirouetted to show a sexy low back. Her
beauty was both ancient and utterly modern.

“You always know how to wear clothes,”
Nancy
said. “Clothes
never wear you.” She didn’t want to, but she had to ask about the scarlet satin
t-strap heels.

“Louboutin,” Birdie said. “Although you
once told me that only whores and children wear red shoes. I had to wrest Grammy’s
fur from my mother’s death grip. It’s so cold here after
Africa
.
She warned me to keep away from eco-terrorists, which is ridiculous since they’re
so exciting, always willing to do something adventurous in the middle of the
night.”

“I have a cape,” the child said.

Birdie looked at her daughter as if
surprised to see her in the room. “Yes, sweetie, you can show Auntie Nanny your
cape later.”

Auntie Nanny sounded awful and
Nancy
said, “I really
wish—“

Birdie tossed back the rest of her drink
and said, “I’m very proud of you for setting up a new life for yourself. I’ve
always said that you have more sense than most of the family.”

“Is that a compliment to me, or an
insult to the family?”

“Both. I’ve got to run. I’m meeting
Yannis and he’s a beast if I’m late.”

“It was lovely to see you, Birdie. You,
too, Eugenia. Maybe we could have lunch and go shopping.” She stared at the
child and said. “Or we could go to Steinhart Aquarium…”
Nancy
hadn’t been to the gift shop there in
years.

“Maybe. Yannis wants me to go to
Corfu
to meet his family, but you know how I feel about
families.” Birdie stood, put on her coat, and walked to the front door. “Nanny,
I’ve got a blazing headache coming on. Do you have any opiates?”

Nancy
wasn’t going to aide and abet Birdie,
who was already oblivious enough of her child. “I have Advil.”

“I guess that will have to do. Would you
please crush four of them into a fine powder and dissolve them in a glass of
water with ice and a twist of lemon.”

“Still or sparkling?

“Half and half. I know a clever man who
bottles his own starkling…it works as both still and sparkling.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the one
who says silly things, Birdie,”
Nancy
said. “It will take a minute.”

“I’ll wait. Don’t rush!”

Nancy
went to the bathroom, got the Advil
from the medicine cabinet, and took it to the kitchen. It took her a few
minutes to pulverize the pills with the back of a spoon. Even after she stirred
the crushed pills in the water for a long time, they didn’t dissolve completely.
She twisted a sliver of lemon peel into the glass and she took the drink to the
hallway.

Birdie was gone.

Well, that was typical Birdie.
Nancy
carried the glass
back to the kitchen and poured the water into the sink. When she raised her
head, she saw the reflection of something moving in the window before her.

She jumped and turned.

Ghostly little Eugenia was standing in
the doorway.

“I’m hungry,” she said.

Chapter 9: Dress Plainly, Accessorize
Extravagantly

“What are you doing here?”
Nancy
asked.

“Mama said stay. I’m hungry.”

“Where’s your mommy?”

“She went away.”

Nancy
took the child’s puny hand and led her
to the entry hall. She opened the door and looked out. No one was there. She
returned to the living room and saw an exquisite caramel leather overnight bag
and a pink Little Mermaid backpack by her writing table.

“Love your bags, but no,”
Nancy
said.

“No food?”

“No, you can’t stay. What’s your
mother’s phone number?”

The child scrunched her face in thought.

“I’ll get you some milk.”
Nancy
went into the
kitchen and poured milk into an alumni mug that Todd had left. The drink looked
boring and unappealing. She added a few tablespoons of Italian almond syrup,
frothed it up with her espresso machine’s foamer, and sprinkled the drink with
Ghirardelli chocolate.

When she returned to the living room,
the girl was sitting on the floor.

Nancy
said, “You can’t drink it here. You’ll
spill. Come sit at the table.” She led the girl to the 18th Century French
mahogany table, a birthday present from her mother. Placing the mug on a
coaster,
Nancy
said, “Be careful. I’m going to make a phone call.”

Nancy
went to her bedroom, but left the door
open so she could hear if Eugenia dropped the mug. She called her mother first.
“Mom!”

“Hello, Nanny-goat. I heard your party
went well.”

“Yes, and I would love to tell you all
about it, but Birdie just showed up with her little girl.”

“At the party?”

“No, at my place today. She said she was
going out to dinner and asked for a glass of water. When I came back, she’d
left Eugenia here. Do you have Birdie’s phone number, or know where she’s
staying?”

“No.” After a few seconds, Hester said,
“I don’t see why you can’t take care of her until Birdie comes back from
dinner.”

“She went ‘out to dinner’ with her new
Greek lover and she left the girl and her luggage, including a to-die-for
overnighter the color of melted toffee.

“You always need to carry so many things
when you have children. I’m sure Birdie will be back soon.”

“We are talking about Birdie. Birdie who
considers her profession to be an artist’s muse, which is just another way of
saying—”

“Nanny! There is no reason to be vulgar.
Just call your Aunt Frilly and ask for Birdie’s phone number. You have such
issues with children, as though you’d never been one. It’s no wonder that your
marriage…”

Nancy
could hear her catch in her mother’s
voice. “Mom, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

She quickly called her Aunt Phillipa,
aka, Aunt Frilly, who lived in
Santa
Barbara
. “Hello, Aunt Frilly.”

“Nanny, how nice to hear from you! Birdie
was just asking about you, and I told her you were at the Chateau.”

“Actually, I’m calling about Birdie. Would
you please give me her phone number?”

“As soon as I get it, I will. She said
she needed a new phone because she dropped the last one in an ice bucket.”

“Why am I not surprised? I really,
really need to talk to her now. Where is she staying?”
Nancy
heard her aunt sigh heavily.

“What has she done now?”

“She left Eugenia here and took off to
dinner without saying anything! Do you think she’s coming back after dinner?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Aren’t
you lucky to have a chance to spend time with your niece!”

“Technically, my cousin’s daughter is my
second cousin.”

“That not a very nice attitude, Nanny. When
I took you out with Sissy and people thought I was your mother, I was so proud.
I never said that technically you weren’t my daughter, because the love was
there.”

“It’s not…oh, all right, I’ll watch my
niece for a few hours.”

“That’s very sweet of you! Yes, you keep
her and I’m sure that Birdie will be back soon! You’re a good girl, Nanny, no
matter what everyone says. Bye!”

“But, Aunt Frilly--”
Nancy
said to the dead line.

It was okay. She was Nancy
Carrington-Chambers, a woman who could put together highly detailed plans to
entertain the most demanding. Surely she could watch over a child for two
hours.

Nancy
went to the dining room and saw the
empty mug beside the coaster. “Eugenia!” she called and went to the living room.
The little girl had opened the leather case and was pulling out the contents.

“Eugenia, you forgot to use the coaster.
What are you doing?”

“I want my cape.” The girl took out
children’s picture books, a plastic dinosaur, one tiny plastic sandal, and
clothes garishly emblazoned with cartoon characters.

“You don’t need a cape. We’re going for
a quick dinner. Put those things away neatly while I clean up the disaster you
left on my table.”

Nancy
cleared off the mug, and then wiped and
buffed the table with a soft cloth and lemon oil. She lowered her head so that
her eyes were level with the table top to make sure that the luster was even. Satisfied,
she got a lightweight black coat and went to check on the child.

Eugenia had done a tragically inadequate
job of repacking the bag. She had placed a red terry cloth towel over her
shoulders and a paper crown on her head. “Will you tie my cape?” she said
clutching at the ribbons that had been safety-pinned to two corners of the
towel.

“That is certainly some costume, Eugenia.
You don’t need the cape. As Coco Chanel said, when you’re about to leave the
house, remove one accessory. In your case, I would say, remove two, that crown
and the cape. You can borrow one of my shawls. Any color you want!”

Nancy
plucked the paper crown from the girl’s
head and tried to remember where she’d packed away her collection of patinas,
assuming that they would eventually come back into fashion. As she reached for
the towel, she saw panic in the child’s eyes.

“No, no, I need my cape!” Eugenia whined.
Her lower lip pouted out, and she turned her body away protectively.

Nancy
wasn’t in the mood for a struggle, so
she said, “Fine, wear your ‘cape.’” She bent over and tied the ribbons together.
“What are you supposed to be? A clown?”

“Clowns are scary.”

“Wiser words were never spoken. There’s
nothing more terrifying than deliberately bad hair and outlandish shoes.”
Nancy
stood and said,
“Let’s go.”

When the girl just stood there,
Nancy
reluctantly reached
for her hand. It was so small, warm and moist, like a little animal paw.
Nancy
imagined that it
was probably teeming with bacteria. She led the child down the stairs and out
of the building.

It was still early evening and urbanites
were out with their offspring, children dressed and groomed as if they were
going off to photo shoots that involved SUVs and
Labradors
.
Nancy
preferred
children in magazines to the tantrum-throwing, nose-picking, noisome
three-dimensional versions.

Nancy
thought of the least popular
restaurants in the neighborhood. “Eugenia, do you like noodles or muffins?”

“I like donuts.”

“Of course you do.”
Nancy
walked on, trying to look as if she was
not actually connected to the child whose hand she was holding. She took
Eugenia to the chain coffee shop that was reviled by all but the most
rusticated tourists.

Only a few items remained on the
crumb-laden aluminum trays in the display cases. Out of nowhere,
Nancy
felt a sense of
responsibility. “You can have an apple turnover. It has fruit, and children
need fruit.”