The Nanny Diaries (23 page)

afternoon with a woman who has a higher degree than I will ever receive, in a subject I can't get a

passinggradein,andwhohasbeenhomeless thanonemonthinthelasttwenty-four.

For the past week I've been arriving at seven to dress Grayer for school, before dropping him off with

Mrs. Butters and running madly down to class. Mrs. X never emerges from her room in the mornings

andisoutevery afternoon,soI wassurprisedwhenConnietoldme shewaswaitingformeinher office.

"Mrs. X?" I knockonthedoor.

"Come in." I push the door open with slight trepidation, but find her seated at the desk, fully dressed in

a cashmerecardiganandslacks. Despiteherbestefforts with creamblush,shestill looksdrawn.

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"Whatare youdoinghome soearly?" sheasks.

"Grayer had a run-in with some green paint so I brought him home to change before ice skating? The

phoneringsandshemotionsforme tostay.

"Hello?. . . Oh, hi, Joyce ... No, the letters haven't come yet... I don't know, slow zip code, I guess . .."

Her voice still sounds hollow. "All the schools she applied to? Really? That's fabulous ... Well, which

one are you going to choose?.. . Well, I don't know as much about the girls' schools... I'm sure you'll

maketherightdecision ... Excellent. Bye."

She turns back to me. "Her daughter got into every school she applied to. I don't get it, she isn't even

cute . . . Whatwere you

saying?"

"The paint. on't worry, he wasn't wearing the Collegiate sweatshirt when it happened. He made a

reallybeautifultreepicture?

"Doesn't hehave a changeofclothesatschool?"

"Yeah,I'm sorry. eusedthemlastweekwhenGiselledumped glueonhim andI forgottoreplaceit."

"Whatif hehadn't hadtime tochange?"

"I'm sorry. I'll bringittomorrow."I starttoleave.

"Oh, Nanny?" I stick my head back in. "While I've got you, I need to have a talk with you about

Grayer's applications.Whereis he?"

"He's watchingConniedust."Your chair-railmoldings. Witha

toothbrush.

"Good, have a seat." She gestures to one of theupholsteredwing chairs across from her desk. "Nanny, I

havesomethingterribletotellyou."Shecasts her eyes downtoherhandstwisting inherlap.

I can't breathe. I bracemyself forpanties.

"We got some very bad news this morning," she says slowly, struggling to get the words out. "Grayer

gotrejectedfromCollegiate."

"No."I quicklywipe thelookofreliefoffmyface. "I don't believe it."

"I know. t's just awful. And, to make matters even worse, he's been wait-listed at St. David's and St.

Bernard's. Wait-listed." She shakes her head. "So now our fingers are crossed for Trinity, but if, for

some reason, that too doesn't work out, then we're just going to be left with his safeties and I'm not

enthusiasticaboutthecollegeplacements atthoseschools."

"Buthe's adorable. He's smartandarticulate. He's funny. Heshareswell. I justdon't getit." I mean,lose thetie,what's nottoloveaboutthiskid?

"I've beengoingover everything all morning,justtrying tomakesenseofit."Shelooksoutthewindow.

"Ourapplicationcoachtoldushewas a shoo-inforCollegiate." "My father did say this was the most competitive year they've ever had. They were inundated with qualified applicants and probably had to make some really tough choices." Keeping in mind that the applicants are four and you can't exactly ask them if they have any thoughts on the federal deficit or wheretheyseethemselves infiveyears.

"I thought your father liked Grayer when he met him," she asks pointedly, referring to the rainy

afternoonI tookhimover tomyhousetopet Sophie.

"Hedid.Theysang 'RainbowConnection'together."

"Hmmm. Interesting."

"What?"

"No,nothing.Justinteresting,that's all."

"Mydad's notreallyinvolvedat all withtheadmissions process." "Right. Well, I wanted to talk to you because I'm concerned that dressing him in that Collegiate sweatshirt may have set Grayer's expectations in a certain direction and I want to ensure that? She's interrupted by the phone. "Hold on." She answers it. "Hello? Oh, hi, Sally .. . No, our letters haven't come yet... Oh,Collegiate. Congratulations,that's excellent...Well, Ryan's a veryspe--

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cial little boy . . . Yes, that would be great. I know Grayer would love to go to school with Ryan ... Yes,

dinner would be lovely . .. Oh, the four of us? I'll have to check my husband's schedule. Let's talk after

theweekend...Great. Bye!" Shetakes a deepbreathandclenchesher jaw. "WherewasI?"

"Grayer's expectations?"

"Oh, yes. I'm concerned that your encouragement of his fixation on Collegiate may have set him up for

a potentiallydeleterious self-esteem adjustment."

i(T___?

"No, please don't feel bad. It's really my fault for allowing you to do it. I should have been more on top

ofyou."Shesighsandshakesherhead. "ButIspoketomypediatricianthismorningandhesuggested a Long-term Development Consultant who specializes in coaching parents and caregivers through this transition. She'll be coming by tomorrow while Grayer's in piano and she's asked to speak with you separatelytoassess yourroleinhis development."

"Great. That sounds like a good idea." I go through the doorway. "Urn." I stick my head back in.

"ShouldI notlethimwearit today?"

"What?" Shereachesforhercoffee.

"Thesweatshirt."

"Oh. Well, he can wear it today and then we'll let the consultant tell us how to handle this situation

tomorrow."

"Okay, great." I go back out to where Grayer, seated in the banquette, is watching Connie polish the

stove, while absentmindedly playing with the tie around his neck, and wonder if perhaps we're not

focusingonthewrongpieceofapparel.

I sit in the chair next to Mrs. X's desk, waiting for the consultant, and surreptitiously try to read, upside

down,thenotesscrawledonMrs. X's notepad.Eventhoughit's probablynothingmorethana

glorified grocery list, the fact that I have been left alone in here makes me feel as if I should be covert.

If I had a camera hidden in a button on my sweater I would frantically try to photograph everything on

thedesk.I'm startingtomakemyself laughattheideaofitwhenthewoman enters,briefcasefirst.

"Nanny." She reaches out to firmly shake my hand. "I'm Jane. Jane Gould. How are you today?" She

speaks just a little too loudly, eyeing me over her glasses as she puts her briefcase down on Mrs. X's

desk.

"Fine,thanks. Howare you?" I am suddenlyverycheerfulandalso a littletooloud.

"Just fine. Thank you for asking." She crosses her arms over her cranberry-colored blazer and nods

rhythmically at me. She has very big lips made up in the exact same cranberry, bleeding into the lines

aroundher mouth.

I nodbackather.

She looks down at her watch. "So, Nanny. I'm just going to get my pad out here and we'll get started."

Sheproceedstomentioneachactionasshedoes ituntilshe's seatedinMrs. X's chair,penpoised.

"Nanny, our objective over the course of the next forty-five minutes is to assess Grayer's perceptions

and expectations. I would like you to share with me the understanding you currently hold of your role

andresponsibilitiessurroundingGrayer's criticalpathwith regardtothenextstratumofhis schooling."

"Okay,"I say, replayingherstatement inmyheadtolocatethequestion.

"Nanny, in your first quarter at the X residence, how would you characterize your performance in

relationtoGrayer's academicactivity?"

"Good. I mean, I was picking him up from school. But, honestly, there wasn't a lot of academic activity

to?

"I see,soyoudonotconsideryourself anactive, dynamicpartic--

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ipantinhis process. Howwouldyoudescribeyouragendaduringhis scheduledplaytime?"

"Right... Grayer really likes to play trains. Oh, and dress up. So I try to do activities that he enjoys. I

wasn't aware thathehadanagendaforplaytime."

"Doyouengagehim inpuzzles?"

"Hedoesn't likepuzzlessomuch."

"Math problems?"

"He's alittle young?

"Whenwasthelasttime youpracticedcircles?"

"I'm suresometime inthelastweekwehadthecrayons out?

"DoyouplaytheSuzukitapes?"

"Onlywhenhetakes a bath."

"Haveyoubeenreadingtohimfrom theWall Street Journal?"

"Well, actually?

"TheEconomist.7"

"Not really?

"TheFinancialTimes?"

"ShouldI be?"

She sighs heavily and scribbles furiously on her pad. She begins again. "How manybilingual meals are

youservinghim aweek?"

"We speakFrench onTuesdaynight,but I usuallyserveveg!gieburgers."

"AndyouareattendingtheGuggenheimonwhatbasis?"

"We gototheMuseumofNaturalHistory. eloves therocks."

"Whatmethodologyareyoufollowingtodress him?"

"Hepicks outhis clothesor Mrs. Xdoes.Aslongashe'll be

comfortable?

"You don't utilize anApparelChart,then?"

"Not really?

"AndI supposeyouarenotdocumentinghis choiceswith him

on aClosetDiagram." "Yeah,no."

"Norareyouhavinghim translatehis colorandsizesintotheLatin."

"Maybe later this year." She looks back at me and nods for a while. I shift in my seat and smile. She leansacrossthedeskandtakesoffher glasses.

"Nanny,I'm goingtohavetoraise a flaghere."

"Okay."I leanintomeether.

"I havetoquestion whetheryou're leveragingyour assets to escalateGrayer's performance." Having let the cat out of the bag, she leans back and rests her hands in her lap. I sense that I should feel insulted. 'Leverage myassets?'Umm, anyone?

"I'm sorrytohearthat," Isayearnestly,astheonethingabundantlyclearisthatI shouldbefeelingsorry.

"Nanny, I understand you are getting your degree in arts-in-edu-cation so, frankly, I'm surprised by the lackofdepthsurroundingyourknowledgebasehere."Okay,nowI knowI'm insulted.

"Well, Jane."Shestraightensatthesoundofhername. "I am trainedtoworkwithchildrenwhohavefar fewerresourcesattheir disposalthanGrayer."

"I see,soyoudon't perceivethisopportunitytobeinanarenainwhichyouare a value-add."What?

"I wanttoaddvalue toGrayer,buthe's reallystressedoutrightnow?

Shelooksskepticallyatme. "Stressed?"

"Yes, he's stressed.AndI feel. ndI am only anundergradhere, Jane,soI'm sureyou'll takethis with a grainofsalt. hebestthingI cangive himis somedowntime sothathis imaginationcangrowwithout being forced in one direction or another." Blood rushes to my face and I know I've gone too far, but

beingmadetofeellikeanidiotbyyet anothermiddle-agedwoman inthis officeis just a bitmorethanI canhandle.

She scribbles a few more notes and smiles evenly at me. "Well, Nanny, I advise you to integrate time forreflectionasyoucontinue

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to work with Grayer. Here are a series of Best Practices from other caregivers thatI suggestyou review and internalize. This is explicit knowledge, Nanny, explicit knowledge from your peers that must become tacit for you if Grayer is to reachhis optimal state." She hands me a bunch of papers with a big clip atthetopandstands,slidingherglasses backon.

I stand up, too, feeling 1 need, somehow, to clean this up. "I didn't mean to seem defensive. I care very deeply for Grayer and follow all of Mrs. X's instructions. The past few months he's insisted on the Collegiate sweatsuit almost every day. And Mrs, X even got him a few more so he would have one to wearwhentheotherswere inthewash.SoI justwanttobesurethatyouknowI?

Sheputsouther handformetoshake. "Right.Thankyouforyourtimethis afternoon,Nanny."

1 shakeher hand. "Yes, thankyou. I'll readthesethroughtonight. I'm surethey'll beveryhelpful."

"Come on, Grove, finish up so we can go play a game." Grayer has been pushing around his last tortellini for about five minutes. Thanksto Jane,it's already been a longafternoon for both of us. I look downathim, restinghis blondheadonhis arm andstaringhorizontally atthelastofhis dinner. "Whatsa matter? Not

hungry?"

"No."I reachforhis plate. "No!" Hegrabstheedge,causinghis

forktodrop tothetable.

"Okay,Grayer,just say 'Nanny,I'm notfinished.'I canwait."I