Emma McLaughlin - The Nanny Diaries

darkagain?That's soweird."Sheshakesherhead.

I regain my composure as Hairy follows her, barely evading George's stealth attack. "I'm just on my

way downtown, actually," I say to the floor. George stands under my chin to receive a drip. I reach for

thephone,hopingJosh'11bepleasedtohearfromme.

The next morning I dig throughevery pocketuntil I find thenapkin on which Josh wrote thereal estate

people's name. I do aquickprayer fortheapartment-deprivedanddialtheofficenumber.

"Hehlow!"A horrendousNewYork accentanswers ontheseventhring.

"Hello,I'm lookingforPat."

"She doesn't workhereanymore."

"Oh.Well, perhapsyoucanhelpme?I'm lookingtorent astudioforJulyfirst."

"Can't helpyou."

"What?"

"Can't help you. It's only the beginning of the month. You want a place for July you showup at the end

ofthemonthwith afistful of cash,sayatleasttwelve thousandtostart,andwe'll tawk."

"Cash?"

"Cash."

"I'm sorry,twelve thousandincash?"

"Cash.Forthelandlord.You've gottacome with thefirstyear's rentincash."

"Theentire firstyear?"

"Andyouhavetobringdocumentationprovingthatyounet,net, mindyou,forty-four times themonth's

rent,andyour guarantors?

THE NANNY DIARIES

"Mywhat?"

"Guarantors. he people who are going to guarantee that the rent gets paid even if you die, typically, your parents. But they must live in the tristate area so their assets can be seized and they have to net at leastonehundredtimes therent."

"Thatseems alittle extreme. I justwant asmall studio,nothing

fancy?

"Oh, my Gawd. This is June! June! Every American under the age of thirty is graduating from

somethingandmoving here."

"But all thatincash?"

"Honey, the Wall Street kids all get relo money from their companies. You want to beat them out you

gotta payupfront."

"Oh,myGod."

Shetakes a deepbreath. "Whatwereyoulookingtospend?"

"I don't know. . . six,sevenhundred."

"A month?" She holds thephone away from her mouth while shecackles. "Honey, do us all a favor and

lookintheVoice for a share."

"ButI don't wanttoshare."

"ThenI wouldgetmyself anapartmentinQueensand acanofpepperspray."

"Well, doyouhaveanylistings inBrooklyn?"

"We don't dotheboroughs."Shehangsup.

Thehairs onthebackof myneckstandupasI hearthedistinct tearof a condomwrapperfromtheother

side of Charlene's screen. Ugh! I throw myself down on the bed, pulling the pillows over my ears.

Forgetquitting, bygraduation I'll bebeggingMrs. Xtoletmemove in.

H. H. gives Grandma another twirl around the dance floor to the strains of the salsa band she has hired fortheeveningfrom her

favorite Mexicanrestaurant. Herapartmentisaglowincolorfulpaperlanterns.

"And he can dance!" she calls out to where my parents and I are sitting on her terrace, her flamenco

skirtswingingasheturnsher.

Momleansintowardme. "He's adorable."

"I know,"I saywith pride.

"Hey, watch it. Father's present," Dad says jokingly from where he sits in the chaise beside us. The

evening is warm and Grandma set the food up out here where my friends mingle with my parents'

friendsaroundthecandlelittables.

"Thatguyover therewants to payme tosculptmyelbows," Sarahsays, coming over with two plates of

cakeandhandingonetomymother.

"Yeah,sure. tstartswith theelbows.. ." Dadwarns'her.

Thesongfinishesand H. H. andGrandmaapplaudtheband.

"Darling!" Grandmacomes outonhis arm. "Didyougetsomecake?"

"Yes, Gran,"I say.

"You." My grandmother snaps her fingers at my reclining dad. "Get out there and give your wife a

twirl." Mom stands, extending her hand in Dad's direction. They shuffle off in step to the music. "How

are my darlings?" Grandma asks as she and H. H. sit down on the chaise. "Has everyone had enough to

eatanddrink?"

"The party is divine, Frances," Sarah thanks her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make sure our

friendJoshuaisn't offlosinghis paella."Shedisappearsontothedancefloor.

I leanbacktolookupatthestars. "It's strangetoactuallybefinishedwith school?

"Life isschool,darling," Grandmacorrectsme,takinga forkfulofDad's unfinishedcake.

"ThenI'm inRealEstate101,"I say, pickingup myforktojoin her. "I only havetheweekendafter I get

backfromNantuckettofindanapartmentandget all mystuffout ofChezCharlene."

THE NANNY DIARIES "That's Mrs. Hairytoyou," H. H. interjects. Grandmareachesout herbangledarmtosqueezemyhand. "I'm sosorryyoucan't staywith me,butI've

already rearranged the guest room for Orve's potting wheel." This will be Orve's second summer-in!residence with Grandma. She has a long-held summer tradition of hosting fledgling artists from all parts of the globe. hey teach her technique in exchange for sumptuous room and board. "You'll find something. havefaith."

"So doI,darling," H. H. says, mimicking mygrandmother's ebullienttone. ShewinksathimasshestandsandI notice a glint ofblueather throat. "New necklace, Grandma? It's charming." "Isn't it? I was in Bendel's last week and there were these

little blue lacquer letters." She fingers the tiny 5 and SL hanging on the gold chain around her neck. "Theywere all bythemselves inthedisplaycase,therestofthealphabetmust havesold.I justhadsuch a good laugh, get it? FQ, say it real fast." She laughs deeply as she merenguesher way back inside and, forthefirst timesincethis afternoon's ceremony,I am alonewith H. H.

"Come on," he says softly, taking my hand and leading me over to the stone balustrade overlooking the park. "I think your family rocks." "Believe it or not, I can't complain," I say, placing my arms around himaswe lookoutacross thecity.

"I'm going to miss you so much," he says, giving me a squeeze. "Sure you are. While you're off in Amsterdamwith all thepornstars,smokingthepot?

"It's The Hague.A full twenty minutes from all that. No porn stars. No pot. Just me, missing you, and a wholelotofpolitical prisoners with grievances."

I turn my head and reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him. "Those political prisoners, whine, whine, whine,"I murmur.

Hekissesthetopofmynoseandthenmyforehead. "Andwhat

aboutyou?Stuckatthebeachwith all thoselifeguards,poolboys, cabanaboys?

"Oh, my god. I'm not going to the Riviera.'m going to stinky little Nantucket." I smack my hand on topoftherailing. "Shit. I forgottocheckmymessages!"

Herollshis eyes. "Nan?

"Wait, wait,wait. t'll only takeme twominutes. I justhavetocallmymachineandfindoutwhattime they're pickingmeupfromtheferrytomorrow. Don't move, I'll berightback!"

I go into Grandma's bedroom to use the salmon-pink Princess phone on the night table, moving aside a few of her needlepoint pillows to sit on the sateen bedspread.As I punch the answering-machine code into the keypad the soft light of the room reminds me of sleep-overs from my childhood when she wouldleavethelampsonuntil I fellasleep.

Mrs. X's voice comes through like ice cubes dropped down the back of my dress. "Oh, Nanny, good news. ur friends the Horners are flying up tomorrow at nine and have graciously offered to let you come along. So you'll be in Nantucket by nine-thirty in the morning. Now, Nanny, these are very dear friends of ours so I'm counting on you to be timely about this. Plan to meet them at the Westch-ester CountyAirportintheprivate-plane departurearea.You'll needtotaketheseven-fiftyMetro-North train to Rye and a taxi or something to get out to the airport. They have three girls, so they should be easy to spot. Now, they're doing this as a favor, so you really can't be late.Actually, you might want to plan to beatGrandCentralStationbysix-fiftyjusttogive yourself time? Beep.

"Your machinecut me off. I'll needyou to stop by while you're out and about and pick up an article I've leftwith James for youon Lyme disease. Horrible.Also, I'll needyouto find deer-tick repellentsuitable for afour-year-oldandmakesureit's hypoallergenic,soitwon't irritatehis skin.AndI wouldappreciate itifyoucouldgoto