The Nanny Diaries (34 page)

"Thanks,butshe's lookingfor astudio.It's a horriblesituation?eventhoughher ex-husbandwastheone

c-h-e-a-t-i-n-g, none of the assets were in his name. He's incorporated or some crap, and she's gotten

nothing."

Mrs. X's eyes widen. "That'sterrible."

"So anythingyoucandotohelp, I'd reallyappreciate. I'll callyouwhenshegets here."

When we all get to the table, I'm charmed to see that the girls have made place cards by taking leaves

and writing our names on them in silver pen in three markedly different handwritings. Katie and Lulu

have asked to have me seated between them, while Mrs. X is placed between Grayer and Ellie and

spendsmuchofthemealcutting meatandansweringEllie's questionsabouther coat.

THE NANNY DIARIES

Ferdie comes over andstartswhimpering forscrapsatJack's feet.

"We had aretriever whenI was aboy," Mr. Xsays, spooningmustardontohis secondsteak.

"Ferdie's a local, actually," Caroline says. "One of the top breeders lives just down the road, if you're

thinkingofgetting a puppy?

"Thisis sucha fabuloushouse,"Mrs. Xsays, changingthesubjectassheplays with hersalad.

"It wasbuiltbyCaroline's grandfather," Jacksays.

"With hisown twohands,nonails, inthedriving rain,ifyoubelieve him,"shelaughs.

"You should see the overpriced beach shack mywife picked out. We'll be luckyif the roof doesn't blow

off," Mr. Xlaughs,corninhis teeth.

"So,Nanny,whereareyouinschool?"Jackturnstome.

"NYU. justgraduatedonFriday,actually."

"Congratulations!" Hesmiles atme, while buttering another ear of corn for Lulu. "So,haveyou figured

outyourplans fornextyear?"

"You're such a dad." Caroline laughs at him across the table. "You don't have to answer that, Nanny." Shestandsup. "Whowantspie?"

"ME!ME!" thelittleHornersandGrayer all shout.

As soon as the door swings behind her I stand to clear, but Jack stops me. "Come on," he mock--

whispers. "She's gone.Whatareyour plans?"

"I'm going to be the program associate of a children's organization in Brooklyn," I tell him in a stage

whisper.

"Honey!" heshouts. "It's okay! Shehas a plan!"

Carolinecomes backin,smiling, with a cartonoficecreamandninebowls.

"Jack,you're hopeless."Sheputsdownthecartonandthebowls. "Lulu,will youtakecoffeeorders?"

A gracious hostess, Carolineserves both pies, but there's little demand for thecold oneinthealuminum

dish.

"Mommy, I want a guinea pig," Grayer says sleepily from his car seat. He's out almost immediately and

theXesbeginrehashingtheevening, asI trytofind acomfortable waytoslumpbeneaththecanoe.

"Hewastellingme bythebarbecuethathe's managedtoexpandintotwelve newmarketsthis year? Mr.

Xis impressedwithJack's businessacumen.

"You know". heturns slightlytoward him, putting herhandonhis arm?I wasthinkingI couldgoback

with youonThursday. ecouldhave a romanticweekendinthecity."

He pulls his arm away as he makes a left turn. "I told you, it'll just be a lot of client entertaining. You'd

beboredoutof yourmind."Heplugsinhis cellphoneanddials withhis freehand.

Shepulls her Filofaxout andflipsthroughtheempty pages. "Nanny,one thingI wouldliketomention? shecalls backreprovingly.

"Yes," I say, startingtonodoff.

"I'm not sure if it's appropriate for you to monopolize the dinner conversation. Just something I'd like

youtobe alittle moreawareof fromnowon."

Darling, I. e gone over to the Sterns?for tea. I. l be back by five. Just a thought ?if you have to

go, why not see if you can come back to the island early Sunday morning, becauseh the Horners have

invitedusover forbrunch.

Have a greatmatch!

Love you.

~~~

Ihopeyourgolfgamewentwell. Incaseyou. e worried if I. l be lonely Caronlinehas offered to

keepmecompanywhile you. egone,sodon. worryaboutme. Althoughthey. equitebusy,but

I. sureother peoplewill thinkofme.

Seeyouattheclubatsix. Love you.

~~~

Darling,I didn. wanttowakeyoufromyournap?I. goingintotown.

I called the rental agent and she said that it. really pretty safe out here. She said she. be surprised if anything happened to Grayer or me while we. e here all by ourselves, so please don. spendyourtime inthecity worrying aboutus all thewayuphere.

~~~

Wednesday night, on the eve of Mr. X's departure, the three of us sit waiting in the Rover for Mrs. X. The original plan was to leave Grayer and myself home for the evening "to relax," while they had dinner at II Cognilio with the Longacres. But when they came home to change, Grayer screamed hysterically until Mr. X insistedthattheybringhimalong,sohewould,quote, "shutup."

After five straight days of running a virtual day-care center for all of the Xes' friends on at most five hoursof sleep anight,I starttonodoffassoonasI slumpdownunderthecanoe.

Mr. X jerks the cell phone away from his head. "We're going to lose the reservation. o see what's

takingher solong."I openthecardoorjustasMrs. Xteetersoutontothegravel onuncharacteris!

tically high heels, clad in a strapless black dress with a red cashmere wrap around her shivering

shoulders. Mr. Xbarelyglances atherbeforestartingthecar.

"Honey, what time do you want me to drive you to the airport tomorrow?" she asks, pulling on her seat

belt.

"Don't bother.'m takingthesixA.M. flight. I'll justcall acab."

"I wanttoflywithDaddy."Grayer,hungryand,ofcourse, napless,beginstosquirminhis carseat.

"Mrs. X?Um, you didn't get a chanceto see if you broughtanymosquito bite stuff,did you?" myvoice

echoesfrombeneaththecanoe.

"No,areyoustill beingbitten?I justdon't understand it. Noneof ushas anybites."

"Doyouthinkitmightbepossibleformetoruninto a drugstoreandgrabsomeAfterBite?"

"I reallydon't thinkwe havetime."Sheretouchesher lipstickintheyellowlightofthevisormirror.

I give my leg a good going-over through my pants. I am on fire. The itch is so bad it's keeping me

awakeonthealternatehours Grayeror Mr. X isn't snoring.I just.Wanttogo.To adrugstore.

After a tensetwenty-minutedrive we pullinto theparkinglot/ gift shopof thefamous restaurantwhose

annual signature T-shirt, featuring a rabbit in silhouette, is a bizarre, nationwide status symbol. Of courseI wantone. Mrs. X ushers us into the restaurant, a glorified bait-and-tackle shop that serves up twenty-five-dollar bowls ofpasta onsplinteredtables.

"Darling, how are you?" Mrs. X is accosted by a woman with large, blond hair that looks as if it could stand up to the fiercest Nan-tucket wind. "You're so dressy, my God, I feel like a bumpkin." She pulls herAquaScutumbarnjacketcloser aroundher.

Themen shakehandsandMrs. XintroducesGrayer. "Grayer,youremember Mrs. Longacre?"

THE NANNY DIARIES

Mrs. Longacre absentmindedly pats his head. "He's getting so big. Honey, let's get our table." We are shown to a drafty corner table and handed a green booster seat, which Grayer tries to squeeze himself into.

"Mrs. X,I thinkit's toosmall."

"Nonsense."She looks over at him sitting sideways, strainingto fit his whole tushyin the seat. "Go see iftheyhave a phonebook."

I finally unearth three filthy Nantucket directories and slip them under his derriere, while the adults order cocktails. I pull crayons out of my bag and start telling Grayer a story, illustrating on the paper tableclothasI go.

"Well, of course, I love it up here, but I don't know how I'd do it without my fax," Mrs. Longacre says. "I don't know how people went anywhere before the fax and the cell phone, I really don't. I'm putting together a small dinner for a hundred people for the week we get back. You know, I planned Shelly's entire weddingfromherelastsummer."

"I know, I wish I'd thought of bringing ours from home," Mrs. X says, adjusting the wrap around her naked shoulders. "I'm waiting to hear from the board if they're letting me buy one of the studios on the secondfloor."

"Your buildinghasstudios?"

"Well, they were all maids' quarters originally and most are owned by people who have larger apartments in the building. I'd love to have someplace for a little private time, you know? I'm just so torn when Grayer's home. I want to be with him, but sometimes I need to get things done for my committee work."

"Oh, honey, cheers to that! Our eldest daughter just did the same thing. he has two kids and needed someplacewhereshecoulddoherown thing,butstill becloseenoughtobeinvolved. I thinkit's agreat idea."

The waitress comes over with the six drinks on a tray just as a small child goes whizzing by her at knee height,nearlyknockingthreehighballsontoMrs. X's head.

"Aaaan-drew... CometoMommmyyy."We hear aplaintive

voice whineasthehumantumbleweedfliesundertablesandbetweendiners.

Themattre d'lookspleadinglyattheoblivious parents,willing themtodisciplinetheirchild.

"Oh,honey,isn't thattheCliftons?" Mrs. Xexcusesherselftogoover andkiss cheeks.

"Nanny,drawme a chicken,"Grayer asks,while themen comparethisweek's golfscores.

"Isn't that great?" she says, sitting back down. "They're here with their son, so I toldAnne that Nanny

would take everyone out to the parking lot until the food comes." Everyone?Am I to lead Mrs. Clifton

in arousingrenditionof "Michael,RowYour BoatAshore" bytheDumpster?

I pull myself out of my seat and take Grayer and the whirling dervish out into the cold, dark, sandy

parking lot to play. They climb up and down a piece of oiled driftwood a few times and then Andrew

suggestsmakingdirt angels.

"Yeah, no. How about we wash hands before the food comes?" I try to steer them back inside toward

theladies'room.

"No!"Andrewshouts. "I'm a boy. I'm notusingsomegirl's toilet. Noway."

Mr. Cliftonroundsthecorner tothebathrooms. "I'll takethem," hesays tome, leadingtheboys intothe

bathroomandleavingme toenjoy a wholetwominutesintheladies'roombymyself.

I've just latched the door on the stall when I hear Mrs. X and Mrs. Longacre come in. Mrs. Longacre is

agreeing about something. "Absolutely! You can never be too cautious these days. Do you know Gina

Zuckerman? She has a boy about Grayer's age. arwin, I think. Apparently the woman they had

watching him, some South American, grabbed him by the arm. Gina caught it all on the Nan-nycam.

Sentthatwomanrightbacktowhateverthirdworldvillage shecrawledout of."

I trynottobreatheasMrs. Longacrepeesbesideme.

THE NANNY DIARIES

"We just set up our Nannycam a few weeks ago," Mrs. X says. "I haven't had time to review the tapes,

butitgives mepeaceof mindknowingI'm abletobevirtually righttherewith myson."

Shutup.Shutup!

"Don't youhavetogo?" Mrs. Longacreasks, comingoutof thestall.

"No,I'm justwashing myhands,"Mrs. Xsays fromthesink.

Grayer poundsonthebathroom door. "Nanny!"

Mrs. X opens the door. "Wha. rayer? What are you doing here?" I hear her leave and wait for Mrs.

Longacretofinishwashingher handsbeforeI unlatchthestall.

NANNYCAM?! NANNYCAM???.'.'.' What's next? Periodic drug tests? Strip searches? A metal

detectorintheirfronthall?Whoarethesepeople?

I splash my face with cold water and try, for the umpteenth time in nine months, to put my six-foot

employers outof mymindsoI canfocusontheneedsof thethree-footone.

I walk back to the table. Mrs. X is struggling to balance Grayer on the phone books. She looks up,

openly glaring at me. "Nanny, where have you been? I found Grayer unattended and I think it's

unacceptable?

An unprecedented level of rage shows on my face, momentarily silencing her. I readjust Grayer on his

phonebooks,cutup hischickenforhim, andtake aforkfulof mashedpotatoes.

"Well, then,Nanny,whydon't youtakethekids outsidetillwe're done?" sheasks sweetly.

And I spend the rest of the meal in the damp wind, feeding Grayer sandy chicken out of a Styrofoam

container. Pretty soon Andrew joins us, then three more. I play Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes. I

playMotherMay1.1playRedLight,GreenLight.

But there is only so much you can do with five children in a dark parking lot before you want to sell

them.

After putting Grayer to bed I ransack the kitchen for ammonia. While searching under the sink, I hear