The Nanny Diaries (38 page)

When we pull into the Benningtons' drive the first thing I notice is the Filipino man in a white jacket walking a poodle around the fountain. The second is that there are at least fifteen cars parked on the gravel. How do you throw together an impromptu barbecue for fifteen families when the Benningtons left the club only minutes before us?As we walk through the white gate at the side of the house to the poolareatheanswerbecomes apparent.You callthehouseonyourcell phoneandmobilizeyourstaff.

I stand there, absorbing the realization that there is no way my wedding is going to be as nice as this informal little barbecue. It's not just that the impeccably manicured lawn goes right down to the water, or thateverything isinfullbloom, orthatanothermanin a white jacketis tendingbar,servingicecubes that all havegrapesfrozeninthem, while a thirdflips filet-mignon burgers;it's not even thattableswith starched floral tablecloths have been set up all over the lawn; what finally gets me are the watermelons sculptedintothebustsof formerpresidents.

I am startled by Grayer, fully revived from the contraband can of Coke his dad absentmindedly handed him, dumping a hot dog on my foot. He has ketchup all over himself, including his Lacoste shirt. I couldn't bemore pleased.

"Come on, Grover, let's get you another dog." He and I eat our lunch, and then I sit nursing a vodka-tonic while he runs around thelawn with theother kids. Bynow I knowbetter than totalk to anyof the guests.

I see the Horners arrive with an attractive tan woman in tow. Caroline brings her over to meet Mrs. X while Jacktakesthegirls tothegrill. I watchwith curiosity asMrs. Xswitches herselfon,her hands

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going to her pearls, her face a mask of compassion. This must be Caroline's divorcee from California. After a few minutes Mrs. X loses steam, holds up her empty glass to signal her need for a refill, and departs.

Jack joins the two women, bringing with him a hot dog and Mr. X. The foursome engage in animated conversation for some time until Lulu skips over and pulls her parents away. Mr. X and the tan woman starttowalkover towhereI'm sitting. I quicklyslump downinthechairandclosemyeyes. NotthatMr.

X couldpickmeout of alineup.

"Well,"I hearhimsayastheypass by, "I haveseasontickets, soifyou'd liketogo..."

"Doesn't yourwife gowith you?" sheasks.

"She usedto,butshe's sowrappedupwith oursonlately..."Your who?

I sit back up to check if Mrs. X has noticed her husband's stroll down to the water, but she's embroiled

with Mrs. Longacre. Mypocketstartstovibrate.

"Whatthe... ?" I pull Mr. X's pulsingphoneoutandtrytoswitch it offwithoutspillingmydrink, hitting

buttonsatrandom.

"Hello?" I hear avoice calloutfrommypalm.

"Hello?" I instinctivelyraisethephonetomyear.

"Whoisthis?" awoman's voicedemands.

"Nanny,"I say. There's noneedtoaskwho sheis.

"Nanny?" Shesoundslikeshe's crying. "Is hethere?"

"No," I say, craning my neck to see down to the water, but Mr. X and his new friend have disappeared.

"I'm sorry,look,I've gottago?

"No.Don't hangup.Please. Pleasejusttellmewhereheis,"shebegstearfully.

I crane my head around. "Wait a sec." I hold the phone down low at my hip and walk swiftly up to the

house and into the first French door off the porch. I close it shut behind me, keeping Grayer steadily in

mygaze. I take adeepbreathbeforeliftingthephone back up to my ear. "Look, I'm not really sure what to tell you. Not to be trite, but I really just work here."

"Whatis hestill doingupthere?Hewon't answer hisphone, i_?

"He's, he's..." I don't knowwhatto say. "Playing tennis ... andeatingdoughnuts,I guess?"

"Buthehates her,hehatesgoingawaywith her. Hecan't behavingfun?

"Well, yeah,no, hedoesn't reallyseemtobehavingfun."

"Really?" she asks. I look out the window at the party, such as it is: balding paunchy men and their

second or third wives, who're just biding time till their next peel or tuck, all oblivious to their children

running back and forth on the lawn, savoring a few moments away from their monsters. And the

nannies, all sittingquietly onthedampgrass, awaitingtheirnextorder.

"No,"I say, "nobodyishaving anyfun."

"What?Whatdidyousay?"

"Look, I just have to ask, because you seem so intent on being here. What is it here that you want?

Whataboutanyofthisisappealingtoyou?" I gestureoutatthewindow.

"You don't know what you're talking about. What are you? Eighteen?" Her tone changes as she sobers upfromher crying jag. "I don't seehowthisisanyofyourbusiness."

"Oh, oh, you know what? I don't think this is any of my business, either!" I want to hurl the phone straight through the window and have it land right in Mrs. X's Perrier. "You came to my house. How much more of my problem could you have made this? Having a covert affair, okay, means nobody knows about it. You do not get to have a crew of little helpers." I stare at the phone. "Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"Well, forwhatever it's worth,I've been all upandinherefor

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ninemonths,asinas agirl couldget, andI cantellyou: thereisnothinggoodhere?

"ButI?

"Anddon't thinkit's all her,either,becauseit's not. Shewas youonce,you know. Soyou canplay all the Cole Porter you want, turn the heat up as high as it will go, but in the end you'll spend your life chasing him down, just like everybody else in that apartment." I look back out the window at the children playing tagonthelawn.

"My," she says, "that's quite an impressive moral analysis from the girl who stole eight hundred dollars fromme?

Suddenly Grayer trips and goes flying through the air. My breath catches and it seems to take hours for himtoland.

"Are youlistening?" sheasks. "Hello?Nanny?I saidI fullyexpect?

"What, do I have to say it in Spanish? Get out of this relationship while you still have a pulse!And this advice is worth way more than eight hundred dollars, so you just consider us even." I click the phone shut. There is an interminable pause and then a bloodcurdling wail. The entire party is struck silent, no onemoves.

I run out to the porch and down onto the lawn. I weave through the immobile linen shifts and khaki pants,immediatelylocatingMrs. Xinthepartingcrowd.

"Nannnyyy!" he cries. Mrs. X gets there first. "Nannnyyy!" She tries to bend down to him, but he hits out at her and flings his bleeding arm around mylegs. "No! 1 want Nanny." I sit down on the grass and pullhimontomylap.Mrs. Benningtoncomes over withthefirst-aid kit, whiletheotheradults lookon.

"Here,whydon't you letMommy take a lookatit," I say. Heholds out his arm, allowing herto bandage it, butcurlshis faceawayfrom herintomyshoulder.

"Sing thebottle song,"heasks tearfullyasMrs. Xawkwardlyappliesiodine.

"'Ninety-nine bottles of beer on thewall,' " I singquietly, while rubbinghis back. "'Ninety-nine bottles

ofbeer ...'"

"'Takeonedownandpassitaround,'" hemumblesintomyshoulder.

"Where's myhusband?" shesuddenlyasks, scanningthecrowd just as Mr. X roundsthe hedgerowwith

his arm around Caroline's friend. They're both a little flushed and clearly hadn't been anticipating that

all eyes wouldbeonthemwhentheyreturned.

I hold G's bandaged arm as he swishes in his bath, a reminder not to get the Batman Band-Aid wet. He

leans his head against my hand. "I'm going to get a boat when I get big. It's going to be blue and have a

poolonit."

"I hope it'll bewarmer thantheoneattheclub."I washhis backwiththewashclothinmyfreehand.

"Oh,man.It willbesohot!Like thisbath!Andyoucancome andswim with me."

"Thanks for the invitation, Grove. You know, when you're all grown-up you'll have lots of friends and

I'll bereal old?

"Toooldtoswim? No way, Nanny.You liar."

"You're right, G, I'm lying, count me in for the cruise." I drop my chin to the cool porcelain beside his

head.

"You couldbring Sophie, too! Shecould have her own pool.A poolfor all the animals.And Katie could bringherguineapig.Okay,Nanny?" "What about your puppy, Grove? Have you thought of a name for her yet?" I ask, hoping if we name

hershemightnotgetleftintheyard all dayagain.

"I want aguineapig, Nanny.Ellie canhavethepuppy."

"Theyalreadyhave adog,Grove."

"Fine,nodogsontheboat. Onlyguineapigs.Andwe'll all

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swim foreverandever andever."Hetugshis plasticaircraft carrier incircles.

I nuzzlemynoseinhis hairandrestmyeyes whilehefinishesparkinghis boats. "It's a date."

I wait until Grayer is completely asleep and Elizabeth has turned in before going down to the living

room. Mr. and Mrs. X are reading the paper, sitting silently across from each other in the worn armchairs oneithersideof thecouch.Bothofthemtilt theirsectionstowardtheflickeringsidelampsin thedarkenedroom. I take a seatinthemiddle oftheemptycouch,butneitherX botherstolookup.

Taking a deep breath, andin themost supplicatingvoice I can muster,I say, "Urn, I was just wondering

ifitwouldbepossibleif,insteadof driving backonSaturday?

Mrs. X lowersher paper. "I'm pregnant," shesayssteadily.

Hispaperdoesn't move. "Whatdidyousay?" heasks.

"I'm pregnant," shesays in asteely,even tone.

Hispaperdrops. "What?"

"Pregnant."

"Are yousure?" Helooksather,his eyes wide,his voiceshaking.

"Once you've been pregnant you know how to recognize the signs." She smiles slowly at him, laying

downherFullHouse.

"MyGod,"hesays, atrickleof sweatformingonhis brow.

"Andtomorrowatbreakfastwe'll tellyour mother."

They stare at each other, tacitly acknowledgingthe arrangement she has made on their behalf. I pray to

fall betweenthecouchcushions.

"Now,Nanny."Sheturnshercoldsmiletome. "WhatisitI candoforyou?"

I stand. "You know what? It's totally not a big deal. We can talk about this later.And congratulations," I

offerasanafterthought.

"No,thisis a perfecttime,isn't it, honey?" Shesmiles athim.

Hejuststaresbackather.

"Sit down, Nanny,"shesays.

I swallow. "Well, it's just that I have to find a new apartment this weekend, so if there's any way that

you could drop me off at the ferry Friday night on the way to your party ... It's just that there'll be so

much traffic on Saturday and I haven't even started packing and I need to have everything boxed by

MondayandI wasjustthinking,youknow,ifit's not anytrouble ... Ofcourse,ifyouneedmeI'm happy

tostay. justthought..."

Mrs. X fixesme with a steelygaze. "Well, I have abetter idea,Nanny,whydon't you justleavetonight?

Mr. X candrive youtothe ferry. Elizabeth's here. e're reallycovered."

"Oh,no, really,I don't needtoleavetonight. I justthought,youknow,theremightbesomuchtrafficon

Saturday. I'm happy to stay, I want to stay? My heart pounds as I become fully cognizant of what is at

stake. I am staggeredbythevision ofGrover, wakingin afewhours,terrifiedandalone.

Mrs. X cutsme off. "Don't be silly. Honey,when's thenextferry?"

Heclearshis throat."I'm notsure."

"Well, youcanjustdrive Nannyover tothedock. heygopretty regularly."

Hestands. "I'll getmyjacket."Andexits.

Sheturnsbacktome. "Now,whydon't yougoupandpack?"

"Really, Mrs. X, I don't need to leave tonight. I just wanted to have my apartment sorted before Monday."

She smiles. "Frankly, Nanny, I just don't feel that your heart's in it anymore and I think Grayer can sensethat, too.We need someone who can give Grayer their full commitment, don't you agree? I mean, for the money we're paying you, with the new baby coming, we should really have someone more professional."Shestands. "I'll give you ahand,soyoudon't wakeGrayer."

She follows me toward the stairs. I walk up ahead of her, frantically running through scenarios that mightgiveme achancetosay

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good-bye to him. She comes behind me into the small room and stands between our beds with crossed arms, watching me carefully as I hastily stuff my things into my bag, awkwardly moving around her in thecrampedspace.

Grayer moansinhis sleepandrolls over. I achetowakehim.

I finish collecting my things in her shadow and sling my bag up over my shoulder, mesmerized by the sight of Grover's hand in a tightfist floppedover theside of the bed, the Batman Band-Aid sticking out beneathhispushed-up pajamasleeve.

She gestures for me to walk past her to the door. Before I can help it, I reach out to smooth the damp hair off his forehead. She grabs my hand an inch from his face and whispers through clenched teeth, "Betternottowakehim." Shemaneuversmetothestairs.