The Nanny Diaries

by Emma Mclaughlin

  hey're so well hidden. Are you sure this woman works with Mr. X and not the CIA?" She passes me

  backthelighter.

  Joshisstill holdingtheporcelainPekingeserloghepickeduponhis search. "Tell me again."

  "I don't know,two,maybethreethousanddollars,"Sarahsays.

  "Unbelievable! Why? Why? What am I missing?" He looks down at the dog in complete disbelief.

  "Wait, I'm gonnagogetsomethingelse."

  "You better put that back exactly where you found it," I say, too tired to chase after him to be sure he does. "I'm sorry I made you waste your night looking for panties," I say, stubbing out the cigarette on themetalrailing.

  "Hey," she says, putting her arm around my shoulder. "You'll be fine. The Xes have jewelry that has

  jewelry. hey'll befine."

  "WhataboutGrayer?"

  "Well, hehasyou.Andyou've got H. H."

  "Okay, I don't got nuthin'. I have an answering-machine tape in my jewelry box and a plastic spoon I

  carryaroundinraypurseas a souvenirandthatmightbeasfarasitgoes."

  "Yeah,yeah,sure. CanI mentiontheplasticspoonatthewedding?"

  "Honey, if we make it that far you can carry the plastic spoon at the wedding. Come on, let's get Josh

  andwipeourfingerprintsonourwayoutofhere."

  WhenI get hometheansweringmachineisblinking.

  "Hi, Nanny, it's Mrs. X. I don't know if you've left for Paris yet. I couldn't reachyou on your cell phone

  again. We may have to get you a new one with better coverage. I'm calling because Mr. X gave me a week at the Golden Door for Christmas. Isn't that wonderful? Lyford Cay is so awful and I still haven't recovered fromtheholidays.'m just exhausted,soI've decidedtogo nextweek. Mr. Xwill be around, but I was wondering if you'll be back, just so I can tell him you'll be available if he needs you. Just so we knowit's covered. I'll beinmyroomthis evening.Call me."

  Myfirst instinctis tocallherandtellhernever toleaveher houseagain.

  THE NANNY DIARIES

  "Mrs. X?Hi,it's Nanny."

  "Yes?"

  I take a deepbreath.

  "So,will thatwork?" sheasks.

  "Of course,"I say, relieved thatsheisn't askingaboutmyhousecall.

  "Great. So, I'll see you Monday morning. week from tomorrow. My flight's at nine, so if you could

  arrive byseventhatwouldbegreat.Actually,we bettersaysixforty-five, justtobeonthesafeside."

  I roll over for the eighth time in the last fifteen minutes. I'm so tired that my body feels weighted, but

  every time I'm about to drift off, Grayer's hacking cough echoes through the apartment. I reach over to pulltheclockbacktowardmeandtherednumbersread2:36A.M. Jesus. I hit the mattress with myhandandroll ontomyback.Staring up atthe Xes'guest-room ceiling, I tryto

  add up the few hours of sleep I've managed to get in the past three nights and the total makes me even heavier. I'm bone tired from spending twenty-four/seven keeping Grayer entertained as his mood has blackenedandfever risen.

  When I arrived she greeted me at the elevator with a list in her hand, her bags already waiting in the limo downstairs. She just wanted to "mention" that Grayer had a "tiny bit of an earache" and that his medicinewasbythesink,alongwith his pediatrician's number?justincase."Andthekicker: "We really prefer thatGrayer notsitinfrontofthetelevision.You twohavefun!"

  I knew "fun" was hardly going to be the word for it as soon as I found him lying on thefloor next to his

  trafenset,listlessly rolling acabooseonhis arm.

  "Anyideawhen Mr. Xwill behome tonight?" I hadaskedConnie,dustingnearby.

  1 39

  "Hope you brought your pajamas," she replied, wagging her head in disgust. I've come to look forward to Connie's arrival over the past few days; it's a relief to have another person in the apartment, even if she is only a whir of dusting and vacuuming. As the temperature has held steady at seven degrees Fahrenheit, we've been under house arrest since my arrival. This would have been bearable, ideal even, if H. H. hadn't had togo rightback up to schoolfor readingperiod. He said I could takeGrayer upstairs to pet Max, but I don't think either one of them is up to it. Grayer's "tiny" earache may have improved, buthis coughhas onlyworsened.

  And, needless to say, his father has been completely MIA. e simply failed to return home my first night. Numerous phone calls to Justine have unearthed only the voice mail of a suite at the Four Seasons in Chicago. Meanwhile the reception desk at the spa is screening Mrs. X's calls as if she were Sharon Stone. I took Grayer back to the doctor this afternoon, but his only advice was for Grayer to finishthepinkamoxicillin andwait itout.

  Another round of raspy coughs. e's even more congested now than he sounded at dinnertime. It's so dark and so late and this place is just so big that I'm starting to feel as if no one will ever come back to getus.

  I get up, draping the cashmere throw around my shoulders like a cape, and shuffle over to the window. Pulling theheavychintzdrapestotheside,I let thestreetlightfromParkAvenuespill intotheroomand restmyforeheadagainst thecoldwindowpane.A cabpulls up tothebuildingacrossthestreetand a boy and girl stumble out. She's intall boots and a skimpy jacket, leaningagainst him asthey swerve past the doorman and into the building. She must be freezing. My forehead chills quickly from the glass and I pullback,touchingit withmyhand.Thecurtainfallsclosed,takingthelightwith it.

  "Naaanny?"Grayer's small, scratchyvoice calls out.

  "Yes, Grover, I'm coming." My voice echoes in the big room. I shuffle through the darkness of the apartment,lit upinweirdshadows

  THE NANNY DIARIES

  from passing cars outside. The warm glow of his Grover night-light greets me along with the whir of his Supersonic 2000 air filter. The minute I step through his doorway my stomach drops. e is not okay. His breathingis laboredandhis eyes arewatering.1 sitonthecornerofthebed. "Hey,sweetheart,

  I'm here." I put my hand on his forehead. It's boiling. The moment my fingers touch him he starts to whimper.

  "It's okay,Grover,you're justrealsickand I knowit's yucky."ButI don't knowanymore. His wheezing alarms me. "I'm going to pick you up now, Grover." I reach my arms under him, the cashmere wrap droppingtothefloor. Hestartstocry fully,themovementagitating himasI pullhim up tome. I gointo automaticpilot, runningthroughoptions.Thepediatrician.Theemergencyroom. Mom.

  I carry him to the hall extension and lean against the wall for support as I dial. My mother answers on thesecondring. "Whereareyou?What's wrong?"

  "Mom, I can't get intoit,but I'm with Grayer andhe's beensickwith anearinfectionandthiscoughand they've had him on antibiotics, but the cough keeps getting worse and I can't get a message through to Mrs. X because the receptionist says she's been in some sort of sensory-deprivation tank all day and he can't seem to breathe and I don't know if I should take him to the hospital because his fever won't go downandI haven't sleptintwonightsand? "Let me hearhimcough." "What?"

  "Put the phone to his mouth so he can cough." Her voice is calm and steady. I hold the phone near Grayer's mouth and within a second he has erupted into a deep cough. I feel the vibrations of this effort

  wherehis chestispressedtomine. "Oh, God, Mom, I don't know what to? "Nanny, that's the croup. H*%has the croup.And you need to take a deepbreath.You maynot fallapartright now. Breathewith

  me,in

  I focusonhervoice,taking a deepbreathinforGrayerand

  myself. "And out. Listen, he's okay. You are okay. He just has a lot of fluid in his chest. Where are you

  rightnow?"

  "Seven twenty-one ParkAvenue."

  "No,whereintheapartment?"

  "In thehall."

  "Is this acordless phone?"

  "No,shedoesn't likethewaytheylook."I canfeelthepanicstarttowell upagainashewhimpers.

  "Okay, I want you to go into his bathroom, turn on the shower so it's comfortably warm. ot too hot,

  just warm, and then sit on the side of the bathtub with him in your lap. Keep the door closed so it gets

  niceandsteamy. Stayinthereuntil
hestopswheezing.You'll see,thesteamwill help.His fever is trying

  tobreak anditwill bedown bymorning.Everything is goingtobe justfine. Call backinan hour,okay?

  I'll bewaiting."

  I feel somewhat soothed knowing that there is something I can do for him. "Okay, Mom. I love you." I

  hangup andcarryhimbackthoughthedarknesstohis bathroom.

  "I'm going to flick the light on, Grayer. Close your eyes." He turns his sweaty face into my neck. The

  lightis blinding after being up for so longinthe dark and I have toblink a fewtimes before I can focus

  in on the gleaming silver of the faucet. I grip his body as I lean over to turn on the shower and then sit

  down, balancing on the edge of the tub with him on my lap. When the water hits our legs he really

  beginstocry.

  "I know,sweetie, I know.We aregoingtosithereuntil thiswonderfulsteammakesyour chestfeelgood.

  Do you want me to sing?" He just leans against me and cries and coughs as the steam fills the bright

  tilearoundus.

  "I... want... my mommmmmm." He shudders with the effort, seemingly unaware that I am here. My

  pajama pants soak in the warm water. I drop my head against his, rocking slowly. Tears of exhaustion

  andworrydrip downmyfaceandintohis hair.

  "Oh,Grove,I know. I wantmymom,too."

  THE NANNY DIARIES

  Thesunshinesinthroughtheshuttersaswe munchoncinnamontoastamongGraver's stuffedanimals.

  "Sayitagain,Nanny.Sayit. iwomentoast."

  I laugh and poke him gently in the tummy. His eyes are bright and clear and my relief at his 98.6 has

  madeusbothgiddy."No,G,cinnamon,come on. ayitwith me."

  "Call it 'women toast.'You sayit with me? His handpats myhair absentmindedly as the crumbs dribble

  aroundus.

  "Women toast?You crazykid,what's next?Meneggs?"

  He giggles deeply at my joke. "Yeah! Men eggs! I'm so hungry, Nanny, I'm dying. Can I have some

  eggs. eneggs?"

  I crawlover him,grabbinghisplateasI stand.

  "Hello! Hello, Mommy's home!" I freeze. Grayer looks up at me and, like an excited puppy, scrambles

  togetdownfromthebed.Herunspastme andmeetsherasshecomes tohisdoor.

  "Hello! What are those crumbs doing all over your face?" She spatulas him and turns to me. I see the

  room through her eyes. Pillows, blankets, and wet towels all lying on the floor where I finally crashed

  whenGrayer fellasleepatsixthismorning.

  "Grayer's beenpretty sick.We were uplatelast nightand?

  "Well, he looks just fine now, except for those crumbs. Grayer, go in the bathroom and wash your face

  so I can showyou your present." He turns to me with wide eyes and skips to the bathroom. I'm amazed

  hecanevensetfootinthere.

  "Didn't hetakehis medicine?"

  "Yes, well,hehas twomoredays togo.Buthis coughgotreallybad.1triedtocall you."

  She bristles. "Well, Nanny, I think we've discussed where we prefer for Grayer to eat. You can go now,

  I've gotitcovered."

  I focus on smiling. "Okay, I'll just go and get changed." I walk past her with the plate in my hand,

  hardlyrecognizingtheapartmentfilled withsunlight. I stuffeverything intomybag,pullon

  1 43

  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

  CHAPTER SIX

  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

  THE NANNY DIARIES

  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,interruptin
ghim.

  ". 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.