The Nanny Diaries Part 3

Option Two, go down to the doorman and get extra keys. Right. By the time he finishes describing this toMrs. Xnoteven JoanCrawfordwouldhireme.

"You're not even playing! I'm going to go take a bath. So don't ever come back here, okay? My mom said you don't ever have to come back." His voice gets quieter as he starts to move from the door. "Goingtogetinthetub."

"GRAYER!" I scream before I catch my breath. "Don't walk away from this door. Ummm, I have a surprise out here for you." OptionThree, wait until Mrs. X gets home and tell her the truth: her son is a sociopath. But just as I settle on Option Three, the elevator door slides open and Mrs. X, her neighbor, andthedoorman all step out.

"Nanny? Naaanny, I don't want your surprise. So go away. Really, really, go, get out of here." Well, at least we've all been updated. With a few "ahems" the neighbor lets herself into her apartment and the doormanhandsoffthepackagehe's beencarrying anddisappearsbackintotheelevator.

I holdupGrayer's shoe.

Asif for astudioaudience,Mrs. Xwhipsouther keys andproceedstoremedythesituation. "Well,then.

Let's get this door open!" She laughs and unlocks the door. But she swings it open a little too quickly andcatchesoneof Grayer's fingers.

"AHHhhhhhh.Nannybroke my hand!AAAAAHhhhhh. y hand is broke. Get out of HEERRrrreeee!

GooOOOOoooo!"Hethrows.h.i.+mself ontothefloor,sobbing,lostingrief.

Mrs. X bendsdown,asif abouttoholdhim,thenstraightensup.

"Well, looks like you really tuckered him out at the park! You can go on ahead. I'm sure you have a ton of homework to do. We'll see you Monday,then?" I reachcarefully inside thedoorway and put his shoe downinexchangeformybackpack.

I clearmythroat. "Hejustthrewhis shoeandI?, At the sound of my voice Grayer lets out a fresh wail. "LEEAAAVVE!Ahhahhha."She stares down at him as he writhes on the floor, smiles broadly, and pantomimes that I should get the elevator. "Oh, and Nanny,C-a-i-t-l-i-n won't bereturning,butI'm sureyouhavethehangof everything bynow."

I close their door and am alone again in the now familiar vestibule. I wait for the elevator and listen to Grayer scream. I feelasthoughthewholeworldisstickingits tongueoutatme.

"Keep yournoseoutof it,NannyDrew."Myfatherslurpsthelastdropsof his wontonsoup. "You never know. MaybethisCaitlin hadanotherjob linedup."

"I didn't reallyget thatsense..."

"You likethekid?"

"Minusthelocking-me-outpart. eah,okay."

"So, then, you're not marrying these people. You're just working there. hat?. ifteen hours a week?"

Thewaiter places aplateof fortunecookiesbetweenusandtakesthecheck.

"Twelve." I reachfor a cookie.

"Right. Sodon't getyourknickersin a twist."

"ButwhatdoI doaboutGrayer?"

"They're always a little slow to warm up at first," he says, speaking from eighteen years of experience asanEnglishteacher. Hegrabs acookieandtakesmyhand. "Come on,let's walkandtalk.Sophiewon't be able to keep her legs crossed much longer." We weave out of the restaurant and head over to West EndAvenue.

I putmyarm throughhis asheslips.h.i.+s handsintohis blazerpockets.

"Glinda-the-Good-Witchhim," hesays,chewinghis cookiethoughtfully.

"Caretoelaborate?"

Heshootsme a look."I wasfinis.h.i.+ngmycookie.Areyoupayingattention?"

"Yes."

"Because this is good stuff." 1 stand, waiting, with my arms crossed. "In essence, you are Glinda. You are lightand clarity and fun. He is an inanimateobject, a toaster who happensto have a tonguehanging out. If he goes too far again.'m talking the door-locking routine, physical violence, or anything that puts.h.i.+mindanger. ABOOM!WickedWitchof theWest!Twopointfourseconds. ouswoopdown in front of his face and hiss that he must never do that again. ver. It is not okay. And then, before he canbataneyelash, backtoGlinda.You lethimknowhecanhavefeelings,b.u.t.thatthereare boundaries.

And that you'll let him know when he has pushed too far. Trust me, he'll be relieved. Now, wait here while 1get theSophster."

He disappears into our lobby and I look up between the buildings to the orange sky above. Within minutes Sophie bursts through the front door, pulling the leash in his hand taut as she waggles over, smiling up at me as she always does. I crouch down, wrapping my arms around her neck, and burrow myheadinher brownandwhitefur.

"I'll walkher,Dad."I give him a hugandtaketheleash. "It'll begoodtobearoundsomeoneunderthree feetwho doesn't talkback."

"Andwhoonlysticksouther tongueforbiologicalnecessity!" hecalls after me.

I stand on the sidewalk outside Grayer's school on the following Monday. I'm ten minutes early, as per Mrs. X's strict instructions, so I flip through my Filofax and chart out the deadlines for my next two papers. A taxi comes to a screeching halt on the corner and I look up at the pandemonium of honking cars around it. Across the median a blond woman stands frozen under the shade of an awning. The cars move againandshe's gone.

I crane my head, trying to locate the woman, to be sure if it was Caitlin. But the other side of Park Avenueisnowempty,savefor a maintenanceman polis.h.i.+ng a bra.s.s hydrant.

"Not you!" Grayer draaaaags himself all the way across the courtyard, as if he were marching toward certaindeath.

"Hey,Grayer. Howwa.s.school?"

"Yucky."

"Yucky?Whatwasyuckyabout.i.t?" 1 unpinthehomework, pa.s.s offthejuice.

"Nothing."

"Nothingwasyucky?" Buckleinstroller,unwrappears.

"I don't wanttotalktoyou."

I kneel in front of the stroller and look him squarely in the eyes. "Look, Grayer, I know you don't like me verymuch."

"I HATEYOU!" I am light. I am clarity. I am wearing a big,pinkdress.

"And that's okay, you haven't known me very long. But I like you a lot." He starts to kick his leg out at me. "I knowyoumissCaitlin." Hefreezesatthesoundof her nameandI catchhis foot firmly in my hand. "It's okay to miss Caitlin. Missing her shows that you love her. But being mean to me hurts myfeelings and I knowCaitlin would never want you to hurt anyone's feelings. So, as long as we're together,let's havefun."Hiseyes arelikesaucers.

As we headout of the courtyard the rainthat's been threatening all morning finally breaks and I have to pushGrayer backup to721ParkAvenueasif I'm intheStroller Olympics.

"Weeeeeeee!" he cries and I make race-car noises and steer sharply around puddles all the way home. By the time we get into the lobby we're both soaked and I pray Mrs. X isn't home to see how I've exposedher childtopneumonia.

"I sure am wet.Areyouwet,Grayer?"

"I suream. I sure am wet."He's smiling, buthis teetharestartingtochatter.

"We're gonna get you rightupstairs and into a hot bath. Ever had lunchinthe bath, Grayer?" I steer him intotheelevator.

"Wait! Holdit!" a malevoice shoutsfromaroundthecorner.

I slamthestrollerintomyankletryingtoangleitawayfromthe door. "Ow,sh. ot!"

"Hey, thanks," he says. I look up from my ankle. The rain has plastered his brown, chin-length hair and frayedblueT-s.h.i.+rt tohis six-foot frame. Oh,my.

Astheelevator closes hecrouchesdowntospeakdirectly tothestroller. "Hey,Grayer!Wha.s.sup?"

"She's wet."Grayer pointsbehindhim.

"Hi,wet girl.AreyouGrayer's girlfriend?" Hesmiles atme,tuckinghis damphairbehindhis ear.

"He's notsureif he's readytomakethatkindof commitment," I say.

"Well, Grayer,don't lether getaway."If youtriedtocatchme,I promise I wouldrunvery slowly.

We arrive attheninthfloorwaytoosoon. "Have a greatafternoon,guys," hesaysaswe getout.

"You, too!" I cry asthedoorslidesclosed.Wh.o.a.reyou?

"Grayer,whois he?" Stroller unclasped,wets.h.i.+rtoff.

"Helives upstairs. Hegoestobigboy's school."Shoesoff,pantsoff,grablunchbag.

"Oh,yeah?Whichone?" Follow nakedtushtobathroom, turnontap.

He thinks for a moment. "Where the boatsgo.With the lighthouse."Okaaay.Two syllables, soundslike ...

"Harbor?" I query.

"Yeah, he goes to Harbard." h.e.l.lo, I can totally do Boston, especially with the shuttle. We could alternateweekends... Jesus!EARTHTONANNY,COME IN,NANNY.'

"Okay, Grayer, let's get you in the tub." I heave him over the edge, letting go of my Harvard Hottie for themoment. ."Grayer,doyouhave anickname?"

"What's anickname?"

"Aname thatpeoplecallyouthatisn't Grayer."

"Myname isGrayer X. That's myname."

"Well, let's think of one." 1 pop him in the tub and pa.s.s him his organic peanut b.u.t.ter and quince jelly sandwich.He wiggles.h.i.+s toes in thewater ashe munchesthesandwichandI cantell it feelsfabulously unorthodoxtohim. I lookaroundthebathroomandmyeyes landonhis blueSesameStreet toothbrush. "WhataboutGraver?" I ask.

Hemullsitover,his headc.o.c.kedtooneside,his SeriousThinkingFaceon,thennods. "We'll tryit." Lord,hawmyheadaches!Whata headhaveI!Myback a t'otherside. h,myback,myback!Beshrew yourheartforsendingmeaboutTo catchmydeathwithjauntingupanddown!

. HENURSE,ROMEOANDJULIET CHAPTER TWO Mult.i.tasking Nanny, While you. e on your play date withAlex today, please askAlex. mother who catered her lastdinner?tellherIthought Cajun?infusedAsianwas astrokeofgenius. Justtoletyouknow,theparentsareDIVORCING. Sosad. PleasemakesureGrayerdoesn. sayanythingawkward. I. lswingbyAlex. at4:30 totakeGrayer tohis orthodist. Seeyouthen?

"Nanny? Nanny?!" Mrs. X's disembodied voice calls out to me as I jog up the block toward the nursery schoolcourtyard.

"Yes?" I say, spinningaround.

"Thisway."Thedoorof a LincolntowncarpopsopenandMrs. X's manicuredhandflagsmeover.

"I'm sogladyou're here,"I say, leaningdowntowhereshe's seatedamid hershoppingbagsintheplushdarkness. "BecauseI needtoaskyou?

"Nanny,I justwanttoreiteratethat I'd likeyoutoalways getheretenminutesearly."

"Of course."

"Well, it's elevenfifty-five."

"I'm reallysorry. wastryingtofindGrayer's cla.s.s list. I'm notsurewhichAlex?

But she's already busy rooting around in her purse. She pulls a small leather-bound notepad out of her hobo bag. "I want to talk with you briefly about a party I'm throwing at the end of the month for the Chicago branch of Mr. X's company." She uncrosses and recrosses her legs, the lavender Prada shoes making an arc of bright color against the dark interior of the town car. "All the top executives will be there. t's a veryimportanteveningandI want.i.ttobeperfectformyhusband."

"Soundslovely,"I say, unsurewhyI'm beingapprisedof thisfete.

Shelowershersungla.s.sestomakesurethatI havetakeninevery word.

ShouldI bringmyformal weartothedry cleaner's?

"So, I may need you to run a few errands for me this month. It's just that I'm so overwhelmed with the preparations and Connie's absolutely no help. So if there's anything I need I'll just leave you a note. t reallyshouldn'tbemuch."

We both hear the heavy clank of the double doors opening behind me followed bythe growing swell of children's laughter.

"I better run, if he sees me he'll just get all upset. Let's go, Ricardo!" she calls to the driver and he pulls outbeforeshe's even gotherdoorclosed.

"Wait, Mrs. X,I neededtoaskyou a question?I callafter theretreatingtaillights.

TherearefourAlexandersandthreeAlexandrasinGrayer's cla.s.s.

I know. I checked. And now that Mrs. X has sped off I'm still at a complete loss as to which one is supposedtobeourescortfortheafternoon.

Grayer,however,seems toknowexactlywho ourdateis.

"It's her. I have a play date with her," he says, pointing across the courtyard at a little girl hunkered downover somethingintriguingatgroundlevel. I grabGrayer andmakeourwayover.

"Hi,Alex. We have aplaydatewith youthisafternoon!" I enthusiastically informher.

"Myname's Cristabelle.Alexis wearing as.h.i.+rt,"shesays, pointingover atthirtys.h.i.+rt-wearingchildren.

Grayer looksup atmeblankly.

"Grayer,Mommy saidyouhave a playdatewithAlex,"I say.

He shrugs. "How about Cristabelle? Cristabelle, want to have a play date?"Apparently, one play date's asgoodasanother.

"Grover, it's not Cristabelle, sweetie. But we can have a play date with Cristabelle another day. Would you like that?" The little girl huffs off. At the age of four she seems already to know thatif the date has tobepostponedit probablyisn't goingtohappen.

"Okay,Grayer,think.Didn't yourmomsayanything toyouthismorning?"