Confessions of a Teen Nanny 01 - Confessions of a Teen Nanny (2 page)

is this kid for real?

A drienne walked up to the entrance of 841 Fifth Avenue and glanced at her reflection in the carefully pol- ished glass. Not too much makeup, she thought. I look good. Like a very young Nicole Kidman. Sort of.

As Adrienne approached the door, it was suddenly pulled open by a uniformed doorman. He was extremely tall and wore a long gray wool coat covered with gold braid. He looks like a ship's captain, Adrienne thought, but smiled and offered him her hand."Hello," she said, in what she hoped was a professional-sounding voice. "I'm Adrienne Lewis. I'm here to see the Warners."

The doorman looked at her with pity. Adrienne low- ered her hand. Well, she thought, so much for being nice to the doorman.

"Are you a friend of Miss Cameron's?" he asked, star- ing down his nose at her.

Adrienne swallowed. What should I say? "Um, I'm a

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friend of Miss Emma's?"

The doorman nodded, then picked up the phone. "I have a Miss Lewis here to see Miss Emma." He waited a minute, and then hung up.

"You may go inside. The elevator to the Warner resi- dence is on your left."

Adrienne stepped into the cool, marble-clad gloom of the lobby and opened her mouth in astonishment. The ceiling was gilded and painted, and the walls were covered with huge marble slabs and heavy mirrors. A fountain in the middle of the lobby tinkled softly, and the orchids planted around its base were reflected in the rippling water. Large French doors led to a grassy interior courtyard she hadn't even known existed.

This was so not what apartment lobbies she was used to looked like. Her own building had shabby tiled floors and an elevator that screeched every time it opened. An orchid would probably die of embarrassment to be seen in my lobby, she thought, staring at the gorgeous room.

"To your left, Miss Lewis," said the doorman, pointing.

"Sorry,"Adrienne replied, scurrying to the elevator, the door of which opened automatically when she approached it. She got into the elevator and, as the door closed, realized that she didn't know what floor the Warners lived on. She looked for the control panel and discovered that there wasn't one.The elevator began to move on its own.

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The elevator must be programmed to go straight to their floor--now that's security! Adrienne glanced around. Pretty, she thought.There were several small paintings of flowers, and a tiny little bench to sit on.A small chandelier hung overhead. The elevator suddenly stopped, and the doors opened slowly. Adrienne looked out the elevator's open door.

This is unreal, she thought as she stepped out of the elevator car and into the Warners' apartment.

The entry hall was enormous, and they were obviously in the penthouse because the entire ceiling of the entry hall was a glass skylight through which the sun streamed onto mosaic floors. The room was mirrored, and a large crystal chandelier hung from the skylight, the sun bursting into thousands of rainbow-colored sparkles on the walls.

YIP! YIP! YIP!

Adrienne looked down. A small, strange-looking dog stood shivering and barking on the mosaic floor. It had long hair hanging from its ears and its tail, but virtually no hair on its body. Does that dog have a disease? she wondered. It bared its crooked teeth at her.

"BEE-SQUEE!" called a deep, loud voice. "Stop it!"

The dog growled at Adrienne one last time and ran off.

The man who had called out approached her. He wore a tuxedo.

"Is there something wrong with that dog?" Adrienne asked with concern. "It has no hair."

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The man stared at her with disdain. "It is a Chinese crested terrier. They are very rare. His name is Bisquit. It means `cookie' in French."

"I see," Adrienne said politely, realizing too late that that had probably not been the best way to begin the inter- view. She extended her hand again. "You must be Mr. Warner. I'm--"

"I am not Mr. Warner," the man interrupted. "I am Kane. Mr. and Mrs.Warner's butler."

"Kane what?" Adrienne asked.

"Kane is my last name," he said irritably.

"Oh, sorry . . . Mr. Kane," she said.

"Just Kane, no Mister. Butlers are always called by their last name," he replied, as if he were speaking to a child. "I suppose you are Miss Lewis."

"Yes. Sorry.You can call me Adrienne."

"Certainly, Miss Lewis. I'm sorry they sent you up in this elevator. In the future, you are only to ride in the ser- vice elevator, unless you are with Miss Emma or another member of the family. Staff does not ride in the same ele- vator with the residents of 841 Fifth Avenue. Follow me." With that, Kane walked out of the hall. Adrienne raced to keep up with his long stride.They passed through a room hung with huge paintings, a large library, and a dining room.Then, they came to a large door that opened into the kitchen.

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"This is really the kitchen?"Adrienne asked Kane. The kitchen was beautiful. One whole side was a restaurant- sized cooking section with polished-steel cabinets and marble countertops. There were stoves with eight burners apiece, and several ovens. Obviously, the Warners had big dinner parties. There were windows on two sides, with views over Manhattan to the East River. On the opposite side of the room, in a corner, was a breakfast table, and in the center of it sat a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a cut-crystal vase. Nearby, several sofas and chairs were posi- tioned around a huge flat-screen TV.

"Mrs. Oblonskaya, this is Miss Lewis," Kane said, ges- turing to a woman in the kitchen.

"Hello! Hello!" The cheerful little woman burst out from behind the counter and wiped her hands on a towel. She was shorter than Adrienne and about four times wider. Her gray hair was held in a tight bun, and she wore a care- fully pressed black maid's outfit with a starched white collar.

"My name Tatiana Oblonskaya.You will call me please Tania."They shook hands solemnly, and then she grinned, revealing that she had a sweet smile and one gold tooth. Adrienne smiled back and liked her immediately. Kane was a bit of an acquired taste.

"That dog is something,"Adrienne said, as Bisquit ran in circles, alternating between yipping at her and running

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behind Tania's legs to hide. "Does he bark like that all the time?"

"Only at all the peoples. From the Devil he comes that Bisquit. I happy turn him to mush in oven. He bite. You careful. Miss Cameron love it only because he nasty like she be. She is. Sorry, she not so bad. Only doggie. So! You here by us. Good. I teach, you follow." Tania threw the towel onto the counter and led her back out into the dining room.

She picked up a heavy envelope and handed it to Adrienne. "Is note.You read," she said, and stood, waiting.

Adrienne opened the note:

Darling!

We are thrilled, thrilled, thrilled to have you! So

pleased you are with us. Be an absolute lamb, help

Emma with French, make sure she practices piano,

make sure she gets clean, clean, clean, and send her to

bed.You're an absolute treasure.

Christine Olivia Warner

Adrienne blinked. "Isn't there an interview?" she asked. "Don't I need to meet Mrs.Warner or Emma?"

"In plenty time you meet,"Tania said."Miss Emma, she yell at you now. I mean talk to you now.You meet. Come."

This is so not normal, Adrienne thought. My mom would be all over someone who was watching her kid.

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Tania walked back through the library and the entry hall, pointing to door after door: "Is Miss Cameron's room. She never home. Is guest room. Is guest room. Is other guest room. Here is room of Miss Emma.You go in. I wait here for you." She gestured to the door.

Adrienne knocked lightly.

"Come in," said a child's voice. Adrienne walked in. Emma Warner sat at her desk by a large window that looked out over Central Park. She was tiny. Smaller than an average eight-year-old, with a little blond bob that was a bit severe for a girl her age. Fine-featured, she turned to look at Adrienne with the calculating eye of an adult. Uncomfortable meeting her gaze, Adrienne looked around the room.

The bedroom had pretty flowered wallpaper and a romantic canopy bed swathed in lace and chintz. The white-painted bookcases were covered with dolls. The room was a little girl's paradise. However, Emma's desk was piled high with books. Mounted on a stand over her head was a TV, on which CNN was playing. Adrienne took a deep breath, and introduced herself. "Emma? Hi there, my name is Adrienne. It looks like I am your new nanny."

"It may look that way," Emma said, "but you are far from hired. You can sit over there." Emma pointed to a small upholstered chair. Adrienne, not sure how to handle the situation, walked over to the chair and sat down. It was a mistake. The chair was a lot lower than it looked. It was

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child-sized, and Adrienne wasn't. Suddenly, Emma stood towering over her, holding a small pad and a pencil.

This is ridiculous, Adrienne thought, and began to laugh. She tried to get out of her chair, but realized that she couldn't without moving Emma out of the way.

"Um, Emma, I'm kind of stuck,"Adrienne said, trying to rise. "Can you just move, a tiny bit, so I--"

"Have you been a nanny before?" Emma interrupted.

Is this kid for real? Adrienne thought. "No, but I have baby-sitt--"

"Fine.Where do you go to school?" Emma shot back like a prosecuting attorney on TV.

"I'm at Van Rennselaer, but--"

"A public school." Emma sighed. "At least it's a good one. How were you referred to us?"

This kid is too much, Adrienne thought. I have to get up. I'm losing control of this situation. "Liz Braun--" she began.

"Oh, Heather's nanny. She's a freak. Not your friend, Liz. Heather. She's insane. Clinically. I won't play with her, so don't get your hopes up that you get to hang out with your friend all the time."

Emma closed the pad, but didn't move."You'll do. For now. I watch CNN while I work. I'm translating Madame Bovary from the French. Have you read it? Probably not. Now, at four o'clock . . ."

I can't let her walk all over me like this, Adrienne realized.

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I need to get back in charge. She stood up, and in doing so, forced Emma backward.

"At four o'clock," she said, her voice firm, "you do nothing. For your information I have read Madame Bovary in English and in French. I would also appreciate it if you would lay off your criticism of Heather. She is not clini- cally insane, or she would be in an institution. I am here to take care of you, not here to be patronized by you, or to be spoken to in a condescending way."

I have a feeling that I'm not going to get this job after all, Adrienne thought. This girl is going to hate me.

Adrienne continued moving toward Emma, and kept talking to her slowly and carefully.

"I will go over your translation when you are finished, and then, your mother has instructed me to see that you practice piano. If you have done all of that by four o'clock, then what, exactly, is it you want to do?" Adrienne smiled at Emma the same way her own mother smiled at her when she was beaten during an argument.

Emma swallowed and stepped back. She was obviously not used to this. "Well, I don't need you to help me with the French, just to check it when I'm done. Also, I only practice piano for fifteen minutes."

"You're going to practice until you play your piece perfectly.What on earth is so important?"

Emma squirmed in discomfort. "Oprah."

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Adrienne smiled. "Oprah?"

"Tania and I watch Oprah every day."

"I love Oprah," Adrienne said.

Emma smiled shyly, and Adrienne smiled back.

"You look almost finished with that," Adrienne said, glancing at the translation. "I'll go to the kitchen with Tania.When you're done, come and get me and I'll go over it with you."

"Okay," Emma said, the moment between them bro- ken. "See you."

Adrienne backed out of the room, her heart pound- ing. I won, she thought. I won. Adrienne was thrilled. I totally won that argument! Then she realized:Who gets excited over winning an argument with an eight-year-old?

I must chill, she thought.

Tania waited in the hall. She smiled when she saw Adrienne. "You come to kitchen. I give snack."

They walked back to the kitchen together.Tania gave Adrienne the rundown on the previous nannies.

"Magda, she first. Miss Emma, she put her coat in microwave. Big stink. Louise come next. No one know what happen. She just leave screaming. Diane is three, but she steal from Miss Cameron, is fired. Still, but I think Miss Emma does it sneaky-like. Last one, Gladys. She Bisquit bite her leg. Was accident." Tania looked at Adrienne."You be careful."

This is not a great beginning, Adrienne thought.

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The two stepped into the kitchen together, and Tania poured her an iced tea and gave her a small piece of poached salmon inside a puff-pastry shell. It was delicious, and light as air. Adrienne didn't even like fish.

"Is Russian. Coulibiac. I cook good, no?"

Adrienne just nodded, when Emma came in. "Check it," she demanded.

"Check it what, Emma?"

Emma stared blankly, and folded her arms.

"Emma, look." Adrienne stood up and stared down the bossy little girl. "You can be a pain, and I can be mean--or we can work together.What do you say?"

"Check it . . . please," Emma said, handing over the work.Tania raised her eyebrows, and Adrienne smiled.

She ran her eyes over the translation. It was unbeliev- ably difficult. Wow, she thought. She did a really good job. There were no mistakes she could see--only one verb that was in the wrong tense.

"You have this verb in the pass� compos�. It shouldn't be," Adrienne pointed out.