Emma McLaughlin - The Nanny Diaries

"Darwin! Honey, it's almost time for your cake. Go on over to the table so Sima can help you with the candles." Mrs. Zuckerman glides over to us in her Gucci ballet flats and matching pedal pushers. She is a vision in pink and gold and, coupled with her multitude of diamonds, practically blinding in the afternoonsun.?

"Well, Grayer, what's the matter? Don't you want cake?" She tosses her three-hundred-dollar highlights in Grayer's direction and leans against the rail beside me. I'm far too tired for small talk, but am able to putonwhatI hopeis a charmingsmile.

"Greatparty," I finallymuster,hauling Gup ontomyhip andout of harm's way, so hecan lookover my shoulderintothewhite-crested wakebehindus.

"Sima and I have been planning it for months. We really had to put our heads together to top last year's overnight at Gracie Mansion,but I just said 'Now, Sima! Creativity is partof the special something you bringto ourfamily,sogotoit!'And I tell you, shehas reallydoneit." Screamsemergefrom thesternof the boat and Sima races past us, panic-stricken. Darwin follows closely behind, lunging out after her with aflamingTiffany's lighter.

"Darwin," Mrs. Zuckerman admonishes him lightly, "I said to help Sima, not set her on fire." She laughs gaily, taking the lighter from him and clicking the top down. She hands it sternly to a red-faced Sima. "See that he doesn't run around with this next time. I shouldn't have to remind you that it was a gift fromhis grandfather."

THE NANNY DIARIES

Sima accepts the sterling silver box, without lifting her eyes. She takes Darwin's hand and pulls him delicately backtohis cake.

Mrs. Zuckerman leans in to me, the gold Cs on her glasses gleaming. "I'm so lucky, really. We're like sisters." I smile and nod. She nods back at me. "Please give my regards to Grayer's mom and please be sure to tell her that I have the name of a great d-i-v-o-r-c-e lawyer for her. He got my friendAlice ten percentaboveher prenup."

I instinctively putmyhandonGrayer's head.

"Well, you two have fun!" She tosses her hair to the other shoulder and walks back to the cake melee. I guess Mr. X's residenceattheYale Clubhasbecome common knowledge.

"So, Grove, ready for some cake?" I shift him to my other hip, straighten his tie and touch his cheek wherethepipeimprinthadbeen.His eyes areglassy andhe's clearly asexhaustedas1 am.

"Mytummy hurts. I don't feelgood,"hemumbles. I trytoremember whereI sawabathroomsign.

"What kind of hurt?" I ask, attempting to define the nuances of motion sickness versus heartburn to a four-year-old.

"Nanny, I? He moans into my shoulder before pitching forward to throw up. I manage to aim him over the edge so that the Hudson can receive the thrust of his vomit, leaving my sweater dripping with only about athird.

I rub his back. "Grover, it's been a very long day." I wipe his mouth with my hand and he nods his head intomyshoulderinagreement.

TwohourslaterGrayer isholdingthefrontofhis pantsandbouncingonhis NikesintheXes'vestibule.

"Grove, please just hold it one more second." I give the front door a last shove and it finally gives way. "There. Go!" Herunspastme.

"Oof!" I hear a thud. I push the door farther open and see Grayer sprawled on a pile of beach towels, felledby aTracyTookerbox.

"G,youokay?"

"Thatwassocool,Nanny. Man,youshouldhaveseenit. Standthere,I'm gonnadoitagain."

"Yeah, no." I squat down to take off his sneakers and pull off his pukey windbreaker. "Next time you might not be so lucky. Go pee." He runs off. I gingerly tiptoe over the hatbox, the pile of towels, two Lilly Pulitzer shoppingbags, three L. L. Beanboxes, and a bagof charcoalbriquettes. Well, we're either goingtoNantucket,or moving totheburbs.

"Nanny? Is that you?" I look over and see that the dining room table is completely covered in Mr. X's summer clothes, theonlythingsof his thatConnieandI hadn't packedup.

"Yes. We justgothome,"I call,moving twoBarneys bags outoftheway.

"Oh."Mrs. Xcomes out,holdinganarmful of pastelcashmere sweaters. "You're coveredinvomit." She

recoilsslightly. "Grayerhad a bitof anaccident?

"I really wish you'd keep better track of what he eats at those parties. How is Mrs. Zuckerman?" "She

sendsyouher regards?

"She's so creative. She always throws the best birthdays." She stares at me expectantly, eagerly waiting

formetoreenacttheafternoon,complete with sockpuppetsandcommedia dell arte. I am justtootired.

"She,um,wantedtopasson a referral." "Yes?"

I take a deepbreath, bracingmyself. "She saidthatshe,uh, knows a reallygoodlawyer."I lookdown at

Mr. X's clothes.

"Nanny," she says icily, "these are my husband's clothes for the trip." She turns away from me and her

voice becomes resiliently perky. "I haven't started packing myself, yet. No one can tell me what the weather will be like. Some of our friends broiled, some nearly froze." She drops the sweaters onto the table,sendingseveral balled-up tennissocksrollingontothefloor. "Maria!"

THE NANNY DIARIES "Yes, ma'am." Mariapushesopentheswingingdoor tothe kitchen. "Canyoufoldthese?" "Yes, ma'am. Right away." She ducks back in the kitchen. "I don't want to overpack, but I also don't

want to have to do laundry while I'm there and I have no idea if they even have a decent dry cleaner on

theisland.Also, thatreminds me,we'll beleavingonthefifteenth,promptly ateightA.M.?

"Is that Friday?" I ask. She looks up at me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you, it's just that the

fifteenthisthedayofmygraduation." "So?"

"So,I won't beabletoleaveateight?

"Well, I don't think we can delay our departure on your account," she says, walking to the bags in the

fronthall.

"No, the thing is, my grandmother is throwing a party for me that evening, so I really can't leave until

Saturday."I followher.

"Well, therentalstartsonFriday,sowe can't leaveonSaturday,"shesays,asifexplainingtoGrayer.

"No,I understandthat. I'm sureI couldtake a busuponSaturday. I'd probablybetherebyfiveorso."

I follow her back to the dining room table where she adds her shoppingbags to the stockpile. "So what

you're basically tellingme isthat,ofthefourteendays we needyou, youwill notbe available fortwoof

them. I don't know, Nanny. I just don't know. We're invited to the Blewers' for dinner on Friday and the PiersonbarbecueonSaturday.I justdon't know?Shesighs. "I'll havetothinkaboutthis."

"I'm really sorry. If itwere anything else. But I reallycan't miss mygraduation."I benddowntopick up theerrantsocks.

"I supposenot.Well, letmediscuss itwith Mr. Xand I'll letyouknow."IfI canmiss mygraduation?

"Okay, also, I wanted to ask you about getting paid, becausemy rent is due this week?And you haven't paidmeinthreeweeks.AndI nowoweyour husband's girlfriendeighthundreddollars.

"I've beenso busy. I'll trytogettothebankthisweek.Thatis,assoonasyouwrite upyour hoursforme, soI cangoover them? SheisinterruptedbynakedGrayerpeekingaroundthedoorway. "GRAYER!" sheshouts. We bothfreeze. "Whatisthehouserule?" Helooksupat her. "Nopenisesinthehouse?" "That's right. Nopenises inthehouse.Wheredopenisesstay?"

"Penisesstayinthebedroom."

"Yes, in the bedroom. Nanny, would you see that he gets his clothes on?" Grayer walks solemnly ahead

ofme,his barefeetmakingslidingnoises onthemarble.

I seetheballed-up clothes onthefloorofthebathroom.

"I hadanaccident." Hepushesatoneof his woodcarswith his toes.

"That's okay."I pickuptheclothesandturnonthebathwater. "Let's getyoucleanedup,okay,bud?"

"Okay."Heputshis arms out forme topickhim up.I pulloffmydirty sweatshirt and lifthim up.As we

wait for the tub to fill I bounce him a little and walk back and forth. He gives the weight of his head to my shoulder and I wonder if he might be falling asleep. I walk him over to the mirror, wrapping him in a toweltokeephimwarm, anddiscover inthereflectionthathe's suckinghisthumb.