The Nanny Diaries (19 page)

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jeansand a sweaterandleavethebedunmadeasmyoneact ofrebellion.

"Bye!" I call out, opening the door. I hear Grayer's naked feet hitting the marble as he runs out in his

pajamasbeneath acowboyhatthatismuchtoobig. *

"Bye, Nanny!" He throws his arms open for a hug and I hold him tight, amazed at the difference a few

hourshavemadeinhisbreathing.

"Mrs. X?Hestill has twomoredays of antibiotics so?

She emerges at the other end of the hall. "Well, we have a big day planned. e've got to get a haircut

and go to Barneys to pick up a present for Daddy. Come on, Grayer, let's get dressed. Good-bye,

Nanny."

My shift is over. oint taken. He follows her to his-room and I stand alone in the hall for a moment,

pickup mybag,andoverride thetemptation toputtheantibiotics byher cellphone.

"Bye, partner."I pullthedoor closedquietly behindme.

The old nurse went upstairs exulting with knees toiling, and pat' ter of slapping feet, to tell the mistress

ofher lord's return.

. DYSSEY

Love,ParkAvenueStyle

I press down the backspace button and watch as myfifth attempt at a topic sentence deletes itself letter

byletter. JeanPiaget... whatto say, whattosay?

I slouch back, rolling my neck on the top of the chair, and stare out at the gray clouds drifting slowly above the roofs of the brown-stones across the street. George bats at my dangling hand. "Piaget," I say out loud, waiting for inspiration to hit as I dart my hand at him playfully. The phone rings and I let the machinepick itup.Either it'll be Mrs. X calling tocheckifI haveanylifebloodshehasn't suckedyet or mymothercallingtoweighinonthesituation.

"Hi,this isCharleneandNan.Leave amessage."

"Hey, workinggirl. 1 justwant? Myfavorite voice fills theroom andI reachacross mydesk to grab the

phone.

"Hi,yourself."

"Hey!Whatareyoudoinghome atoneforty-three on aTuesday?"

"What are you doing, calling me all the way from Haa-vaad, at one forty-three on a Tuesday?" I push

backmychairandtrace a widecircleonthehardwoodfloorwith mysocks.

"1 askedyoufirst."

"Well, turnsoutJeanGeorgeslosttheXes'reservationsfor

Valentine's Day so she immediately sent me home with a typed-up list of four-star restaurants to

harass."I lookover atmybackpack,wherethedocumentremains foldedaway.

"Whydidn't shejustcall themherself?"

"I havelongsinceceasedtoask why."

"So,wheredidyoumakethem?"

"Nowhere! Valentine's Day is tomorrow. I suppose she's in denial that these places only take

reservations thirty days in advance and thatshe already made me spend Januaryfourteenth. Sunday, thankyouvery much. alling them.Andeventhen all I couldgetherwas a ten P.M; andI hadtoswear tothereservationiston myfirstbornthat I'd havethemout byeleven.Yup, nogo.They'll beluckytoget a booth at Burger King." I picture Mr. X absentmindedly dunking his fries in ketchup as he reads the

businesssection.

"So haveyoufoundthepanties?"

"No.You're goingtobereallysadwhenwenolongerneedtotalkaboutpanties, aren't you?" Helaughs.

"Actually," I continue, "yesterday we had a false alarm in which yours truly dove headfirst onto

Snoopy's magiciancapein a blindpanic."

"Theymaynotbeblack,youknow.You shouldreallytrytothinkoutsidethebox. heycouldbepastel

or tigerprintor see-through?

"See!You enjoythisconversation waytoomuch,"I admonish.

"So thenwhatareyoudoingifyou're notmakingreservationsor huntingpanties?"

"Trying towrite a paperonJeanPiaget."

"Ah,yes,Jean."

"What,youhaven't heardof him?Andtheycallthatpileof bricksanIvy League."

"Not anIvy League,dahling,theIvy League?hesays,affecting aThurstonHowell III lockjaw.

"Right.Well, he's thegrandfatherof childpsychology,soto

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speak. I'm writing on his theoryof egocentrism. ow children see the physical world exclusively from

theirown,limited perspective."

"Soundslikeyourboss."

"Yes, and interestingly, she can't wash her hair by herself, either. There's probably some sort of study

here. Ugh! I'm just in total procrastination mode. Being given the luxury of a whole free afternoon

makes me feel like I have time to dawdle.Anyway, enough about me, to what do I owe the pleasure of

thisphonecall?"

Thephonebeepsloudly,interruptinghim.

". boutthisinternship.Thisguycame tospeaktodayanditwasprettyamazing. He?

BEEP.

". arcrimes inCroatia. Sothere's atribunalatTheHagueto

prosecutewarcriminals?

BEEP. Nomachinetoprotectmenow.

"I'm sorry! Holdononesec?" I presstheflashbuttonandhold

mybreath.

"Nanny! I'm so glad I caught you." Mrs. X's voice brings me back from my midday rendezvous. "I'm thinking Petrossian because it's really mostly caviar and I think most people expect a full meal for this occasion. But that's fine for us! Have you already called them? You should call them next. Can you? Call themrightnow?"

"Sure. I'm holdingwith LeCirqueontheotherlineso?

"Oh!Fabulous!Okay.Well, seeiftheyeven havesomethingbythekitchen,we'll takethat."

"Great.I'll letyouknow."

"Wait! Nanny! Well, don't say the kitchen thing right away, see if they have something better and then,

youknow,ifthereisn't anythingbetter,thenaskaboutthekitchen."

"Oh,okay,sure, I'll keep at it. I'll letyouknowassoonasI find

something."

"Allright.You knowyou canreachme onmycell, too."I sensesheisgetting ready,onceagain,togive

me hernumber.

"Okay, great. I've got your numbers right here. Bye." I click back over. "Sorry, where were we?

Something aboutcriminals?" I move tomybedandliftGeorgeontomystomach.

"Yeah, so I think I'm going to apply for this internship atThe Hague for the summer.After this class on

the conflict in Croatia it would be amazing to get closer to it, you know? To be able to do something. I mean,it's totallycompetitive, butI thinkI mightgive it ashot."Swoon.

"I'm swooning."

"Good." There is a warm silence between us. "Anyway, as soon as I got out of class, I had to call and

tellyouaboutit."

"Nowthat's thepartI like."

"It sucksthatyouhavetoworkValentine's. I reallywanttohangoutwith you."

"Yeah,well,I'm nottheonegoingtoCanciinforspringbreak."

"Come on,howwasI supposedtoknowI wasgoingtomeetyou?"

"Don't even trytousenotbeingpsychic as a defense."

Despite the many phone calls, talking is about as far as we've gotten since the museum. First he had

exams, then I had Grayer's flu. ot exactly sexy. Two weekends ago he came down for the night, but Charlene's flight was canceled and I ended up making a romantic dinner for four. I thought of going up there, but he has three roommates and I refuse to have my first night with him be (a) punctuated by the sounds of Marilyn Manson blaring through the wall at three A.M. and (b) followed by a morning of watchingthemmakecoffee,usingtheir underwearas a filter. Killing me.

BEEP.

"Shit. Sorry! Holdononemoretime."I click over. "Hello??"I say, bracingmyself.

"So? Isitbythekitchen?" Sheisslightlybreathless.

"What?No,um, I'm still onholdwith them."

"Petrossian?"

"No,LeCirque. I'll callyoujustassoonas1 getthrough."

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"All right. But remember, don't start with the kitchen question.And I was thinking that you should try

'21', it's unromantic. Maybe they'll still have something. So '21' next, okay? Well, Petrossian would be

nextandthen'21'.Yes, '21'ismythirdchoice."

"Great!I shouldgetbacktoLe Cirque."

"Yes, yes. Call metheminuteyouknow."

"Bye!" Deepbreath.Click over. "Yes, hangingout. Thatwould

workforme."

"Good to know. Hey, I've got to run to my next class. Listen, I'll definitely be home inApril for a few

days, we'll figuresomethingout. Goodluckwith Jean."

"Hey!" I catchhim beforehehangsup. "I thinkTheHagueis

reallygreat."

"Well, I thinkyou're reallygreat. I'll callyou later. Bye."

"Bye!" I hang up andGeorge stretches from where he has been curled up by myheadand jumps offthe

bedontothefloor.

Thephoneringsagain.I stareatthemachine.

"... CharleneandNan.Pleaseleave amessage."

"This is your mother. You may not recognize me as it is not two in the morning and you do not have a

suffocating childonyourlap,butI assureyouthatI am oneandthesame. Listen,bud,today,tomorrow,

nextweek,we will havethis conversation.In themeantimeI leaveyouwith twolittle wordsof wisdom

regarding this job of yours. 'Not okay.' I love you. Over and out." Right, this job of mine. What to do

aboutthisreservationthing?

"Grandma?"

"Darling!"

"I need to get a table for two for Valentine's dinner anywhere that they don't have paper place mats.

Whatcanyoudoforme?"

"Going right for the jackpot today, are we? Can't we start with something smaller, like an afternoon

wearingthecrownjewels?"

"I know, it's for Grayer's mom. It's a long story, but she's going to hunt me until I get her a seat

somewhere."

"Thatearmuffswoman?Shedoesn't deservethecrumbs offyourplate."

"I know,butcanyoupleasejustwaveyour magicwandforme?"

"Hmm, callMauriceatLutece andtell him I'll sendhimtherecipeforthecheesecakenextweek."

"You rock,Grandma."

"No,darling,I swing. Love you."

"Love you,too."Onemore callandit's backtolespetites ego-centrics. The city is on Valentine's overdrive as I walk over to ElizabethArden to meet my grandmother. Since the last Christmas decoration came down in January every store has had a Valentine's theme in the window; even the hardware store has a red toilet-seat cover on display. In Februaries past I would wait with exasperation on line behind men and women buying oysters/champagne/condoms, when I only wanted to pay for my grapefruit/beer/Kleenex and get on with my life. This year, I've got nothing but patience.

This is the very first Valentine's Day on which I have not been single. However, in observance of the traditionalsurvivalagendafortheone-day-when-being-single-is-just-not-okay,SarahandI mailedeach otherTigerBeatpinupsandI am accompanyingGrandma toour annualpampering.

"Darling, Saint Valentine's Rule Number One," she imparts as we sip our lemon water and admire our lacquered toes. "It's more important to show yourself a little love than to have a man who gives you somethinginthewrongsizeandcolor."

"Thanksforthepedicure,Gram."

"Anytime, darling. I'm going to go back upstairs for my seaweed wrap. Let's just hope they don't forget

me likelasttime. Really,theyshouldput a little buzzerinyourhand.Imaginebeingfound,covered

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in seaweed and wrapped in a tarp by some poor janitor. Rule Number Two: Never take the last

appointmentoftheday."

1 thank her profusely, bundle up, bid her farewell, and go to pick up my hot date from nursery school.

Hecomes runningoutatnoon,holding alarge,crookedpaperheartthatleaves a trailofglitter

behindhim.

"Whatchagot there,buddy?"

"It's a Valentine. 1 made it. You can hold it." I take the heart and pass him the juice box I've been

keepingwarminmypocketashesettles inthestroller.

I look down at the heart, assuming it's for Mrs. X. "Mrs. Butters spelled for me. I told her what to say

andshespelledforme. Readit,Nanny,readit."

I almost can't speak. "I LOVENANNYFROM GRAYERADDISONX."

"Yup. That's whatI said."

"It's beautiful,Grover. Thankyou,"I say, startingtogetteary

behindthestroller.

"You canholdit,"heoffersashegripsthejuicebox.

"You know what? I'm going to put it safely in the stroller pocket so it doesn't get hurt. We've got a

specialafternoonaheadofus."

Despite the fact thatit's one of the coldest days of the year, I'm under strict instruction not to bring him

home until after French class. So I've made an executive decision to ignore all the usual guidelines and