"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
THE NANNY DIARIES
Polo andpick up six pairs of knee-high cotton socks,white. Takeone of Grayer's shoeswith you soyou get the right size. I've left a pair with James so you can get them when you pick up the article and then juststickit all inyour carry-on. Perfect. Seeyoutomorrow!"
Beep.
"Nanny."I havetrouble placing the voice at first. "As per myletter of instructions, I'll be arriving atthe apartment tomorrow. I trust you had no trouble finding the foie gras. Have a good time in Nantucket andpleasesayhellotoGrayerforme."
AH right. 1 grew up and then became a governess. [Pause] I'd really tike to start a conversation, but
there's noonetostart aconversation with ... I don't haveanybodyatall.
. HEANDRYEEV1CHFAMILY GOVERNESS,THECHERRYORCHARD.
CHAPTER TEN
AndWe GaveHeranAll*-expenses^paidVa cation
"Good-bye!" the Horners shout from their car as it pulls out of the Nantucket Airport parking lot,
leavingmealonebythesideofthetarmac.
I sit down on my duffel bag and fight the urge not to throw up as only someone can who's just flown twenty-five minutes on a six-seater plane through torrential downpours, unrelenting fog, and massive turbulence with four adults, three children, a goldfish, a guinea pig, and a golden retriever. Only my considerationfortheHornergirls preventedmefromscreamingatevery drop.
I pullmysweatshirt closer aroundmeagainstthesaltywindandwait.
Andwait.
Andwait.
Oh,no,that's okay,that'sfiiine. No,I wasn't outlateatmygraduationparty. No,youtakeyourtime.'ll
just sit here in the cold drizzle. No, I think what's important is that I'm here, in Nantucket, and that you and your family can rest easy just knowing I am somewhere within a ten-mile vicinity of you. I think what's important,
THE NANNY DIARIES
you know, paramount really, is that I'm not off living my life, attending to whatever I need to be doing,
but am permanently onpauseforyouandyourfuckingfamily?
TheRover pulls inandbarelyslowsto aroll astheymotionfor
me tojumpin.
"Nanny!" Grayer screams. "I got a Kokichu!" He holds up a yellow Japanese toy as I open the door.
Thereis averylargecanoeprecariouslyangledinthetrunksothatitsticksoutover halftheback
passengerseat.
"Nanny,becarefuloftheboat. It's anantique,"Mrs. Xsays
proudly.
I maneuver myself under the canoe, pull my bag between my feet, crouch low, and reach around to pat
Grayer's legingreeting. "Hey,Grove,I missedya."
"Theantiquinghereiswonderful. I'm hopingtofind anewcouchtableforthesecondguestbedroom."
"Dreambig,honey," Mr. X grumbles underhis breath.
Ignoringhim,shelooksupatme inhervisor mirror. "So,whatwastheplanelikeinside?"
"Urn,ithadbrown leatherseats?I say, myheadwedgedinto
mychest.
"Didtheyserveyouanything?"
"TheyaskedifI wantedpeanuts."
"You're so lucky. Jack Horner designs fabulous shoes. I absolutely adore Caroline. I worked on a
benefit last year for her brother's campaign. It's such a shame they live in Westchester or we'd just be
the best of friends." She checks her teeth in the mirror. "Now, I want to go over the plan for the
afternoon.It turnsout thePiersonbarbecueis formal, so I thoughtit'd beniceforyou guys to justenjoy
somedowntimeatthehouse. Relaxandenjoytheplace."
"Great. That sounds like fun." I attempt to look over at Grover in his car seat with visions of us passed
outinmatchingchaises onthelawn.
"Now, Caroline was supposed to call about dinner, so just give her my cell number when she rings. I've
tackedit up next tothe phonein the kitchen."Thanks,becauseit usually takes me about nine and a half
monthstomemorize aten-digit number.
We pull off the main road onto a densely wooded drive and I'm surprised to see that quite a few of the
treesarestill bare.
"They've had a cold spring."Mrs. X readsmythoughts. Thedrive opensinto a loopinfrontofwhatcan
only be described as a sprawling, ramshackle 1950s bungalow. The white paint is peeling, the screen
doorhas aholeinit,and apieceofroofingdangles at a precariousanglefromthegutter.
"Well, we're here. CasaCrap," Mr. Xsays,steppingdownfromthecar.
"Darling, I thought we agreed? She gets out and chases after him, leaving me to unbuckle Grayer and
get my bag out of the back. I hold what's left of the screen door open for Grayer, although he probably
couldjustcrawlthrough.
"Honey,it's notmyfaulttherealtor's photographswereoutdated."
"I'm justsayingthatforfivethousanddollars a week,maybe youcouldhavedone abit moreresearch."
Mrs. X turnstous, beaming. "Grayer,whydon't youshowNannyherroom?"
"Come on, Nanny, it's reallyreally cool!" I follow him up the stairs to a little room at the end of the
hallway. Thereare twotwin beds closetogether underthesharplyslanted lowceilingand Grayer's stuff is on one of them. "Isn't this cool, Nanny? We get to have a sleep-over every night!" He sits, bouncing on his bed. I stoop, careful not to bump my head, to fish a warm sweater and jeans out of my bag, as it wasactuallysummer backinNewYork andI optimistically woreshorts.
"Okay, G. I'm justgoingtochange." "AmI goingtoseeyounaked?"
"No, I'll gointhebathroom. Wait here.Where's thebathroom?"
THE NANNY DIARIES
"There!" Hepointstothedooracross thehall.
I push it open. "AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" And am confronted by a red-haired little girl,
shriekingonthetoilet. "Thisismyprivacy!"
"Sorry!" I slamthedoorclosed.
"Grayer,who's that?" I ask.
"That's CarsonSpender. She's stayingtheweekend."
"O-kay." Just then I hear a car pull up the gravel drive. I go over to the window and watch Mr. X direct
a Range Rover around to the side of the house. 1 walk down the hall to the dingy clerestory window
facingthe oceanand see the car pull in next to four others parked by the overgrown hedge.There are at
leasttenchildrenonthebacklawn.
"Grover?" I call, and he comes thumping down the hall. I heave him up so he can see out the window.
"Whoarethosekids?"
"I dunno. They're just kids." I kiss him on the top of his head and put him down as the bathroom door
opens. Carsonshootsme a dirty lookbeforemarchingdownstairs.
"G,whydon't youheaddownand I'll changequickly?"
"I wanttostaywith you,"hesays, followingme backintoour room.
"Okay,youcanstandoutsidethedoor."I trytocloseit.
"Nanny,youknowI don't likethat." I pullitback,soit's barely cracked,andpulloffmyshorts. "Nanny?
Canyouhearme?"
"Yes, Grove."Hestickshislittle fingersunderthedoor.
"Nanny, try to catch my fingers! Come on, catch "em!" I look down for a moment, then kneel and
gentlyticklethetipsofhis fingerswith myown.Hegigglesatmytouch.
"You know, Grove," I say, recalling that first week when he locked me out. "I got tnye thung thitikin
outta,too,andyoucan't seeit."
"Noyoudon't, silly."
"HowdoyouknowI don't?"
"You'd never,Nanny. Hurryup, I'll showyouthepool. It's reallyreallyfreezing!"
Out back are men in summer suits, and women shivering in lawn dresses, all standinglike traffic cones
aschildrenwhiz chaotically aroundthem.
"Mommy! Shetookmyprivacy!" I canhearCarsonpointingme outtohermather.
"Oh, Nanny, there you are," Mrs. X says. "We should all be beack around six. There's plenty of stuff in
thefridgeforlunch.Havefun!"
A chorus of "Have a greattime, guys!" erupts aroundus astheadults headover to theircars, which take
off,carseatsempty.
I look down at twelve expectant faces, as visions of an afternoon on the chaises quickly disappears.
"Okay, guys, I'm Nanny. I have a few ground rules. NOBODY goes near the pool. Is that clear? I don't
want to seeanybody going past thattree over there or you will sit in the broom closet for the rest of the
afternoon.Gotit?"Twelve headsnodsolemnly.
"Butwhatiftherewas a warandtheonlyplacetogoforsafetywasbythepooland?
"What's yourname?" I askthefreckledbrunetwith glasses.
"Ronald."
"Ronald, no more silly questions. If there's a war we go to the shed. Okay, everyone, go play!" I run
inside, looking out every window I pass to make sure no one is even creeping toward the pool, to find
Grayer's artkit.
I set up crayons, construction paper, and scotch tape on the patio table. "Okay, listen up! I want you all
tocomeover here,oneat atime, andtellme yourname."
"Arden," asmall girlinOshKoshB'Goshtellsme.
I write "ARDEN" and a big "1" on her impromptu name tag and then tape it to her shirt. "Okay,Arden,
you're one. Everytime I callout 'Headcount!'youshout 'One!'Gotthat?All youhaveto
THE NANNY DIARIES
remember is 'one.'" She climbs up into mylap and becomes myassistant, passing me the tapeand pens,
alternately.
For an hour everyone runs around on the grass, some play with Grayer's toys, others just chase each
other,while I look out atthefog-covered ocean.Every fifteenminutes I call out "HEADCOUNT!" and
theysoundoff.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
Silence. 1 tensetorundowntothepool.
"Jessy,you're four,dummy."
"Four!" a small voice squeaks.
"Five!"
"Six!"
"Seven!"
"Grayer!"
"Nine!"
"Ten!"
"Eleven!"
"Twelve!"
"Okay, time for lunch!" I survey the troops. I am wary about leaving them outside while I inspect the
supplies. "Everyone inside!"
"Awww!"
"Come on,we canplayoutsideafter lunch."I slidethewobbling
glass doorclosedafter number 12.
"Nanny,what's forlunch?I'm reallyreally hungry,"Grayer asks.
"1 dunno. Let's go take a look." Grayer follows me into the kitchen, leaving 7,9, and 3, who are turning
thelivingroomcouch
into afort.
I pull open the fridge. "Okay, let's see what we've got!" Umm, three fat-free yogurts, a box of
SnackWell's, aloafof fat-freesourdough,mustard,brie,localjam,and a zucchini.
255
"Okay, troops! Listen up!" Eleven hungry faces look up at me from their various tasks in the group
mission to destroy the living room. "Here are the choices: we have jam sandwiches, but you may not
like the bread. Or we have brie sandwiches, but you may not like the cheese. Or we have Cheerios, but
no sugar to sprinkle on top. So, I would like you to come in the kitchen one at a time to taste the bread
andthecheeseandseewhichoneyouwant."
"I wantpeanutbutterandjelly!" Ronaldshouts.
I turn around and shoot him a quick Look of Death. "This is war, Ronald. And in war you get the
supplies your commanding officer sends you." I salute him. "So let's all be good soldiers and eat the cheese." I'm making the last sandwich when the first raindrops fall, blanketing the sliding doors with a thick
sheetofwater.
"Bye, Carson!" Grayer andI call outastheSpendersbegintopullout ofthedriveway Sundaynight.
"Bye, Grayer!" she calls back from her car seatand then puts her right thumb up to her nose and waves her fingers at me. Despite my best efforts all weekend I was evidently never able to work my way back intohergoodgracesafter "taking"herprivacy.
"Grayer, are you ready?" Mrs. X comes outside in a green and cream silk coat, Prada's signature look thisspring,puttinginher rightpearlearring.
"Mommy,canI bringmyKokichu?" heasks.
We've beeninvited over for a "casualSundaysupper" attheHomers' andGrayer feels he needs tocome
equippedwith somethingtoshare,sinceEllie,their four-year-old,has a guineapig.
"I supposethat'll be okay. Whydon't we leave it in the car when we get there and then I'll let you know ifit's okaytobringitout?Nanny,whydon't yourunupstairs andchange?"
THE NANNY DIARIES
"I am changed," I say, glancing down to confirm that I am still wearing clean chinos and a white
turtlenecksweater.
"Oh.Well, I supposeit's okay.You'll probablybeoutsidewith thechildrenmost of thetime, anyway."
"Okay, everybody in thecar!" Mr. X comes by, swooping Grayer up, and carries him, sack-of-potatoes!style, outside.
As soon as we get in the car Mr. X plugs his cell phone into the dashboard and starts dictating
instructions to Justine's voice mail. The rest of us sit quietly, Grayer clutching his Kokichu, me balled
upunderthecanoestaringatmybellybutton.
As Mr. X unplugs his cell phone he sighs. "This is a really bad week for me to be away from the office.
It's terribletiming."
"ButyousaidthebeginningofJunewasgoingtobequiet?shesays.
"Well, I'm justwarningyou I'll probablyhavetogobackonThursdayfor ameeting."
Sheswallows. "Well,whenwill youbeback?"
"I'm not sure. It looks like I'll probably have to stay over the weekend to entertain the execs from
Chicago."
"I thoughtyourworkwith theChicagoofficewasdone,"shesays tightly.
"It's not that simple. Now there's the issue of layoffs, merging divisions. eorging and making this
thingrun."
Shedoesn't reply.
"Besides,I witt havebeenhere awhole week,"hesays,makinga
"Whyareyouturningawayfromthewater?" sheasks edgily.
We have trouble finding the house because, according to the instructions, it's on the inland side of the
mainroad.
"I just can't believe they wouldn't have an oceanview," Mrs. X says, as she forces us to round the same
trafficcircle forthethirdtime. "Give me backtheinstructions."
Heballsup thepieceofpaperandthrowsitather withouttak!
ing his eyes off the road. She smooths it out methodically on her knee. "You must have copied them
downbackward."
"Let's becrazyandjustfollowthefuckingdirections andseewherewe endup," hehisses.
"I'm starving.I'm gonnadieifI don't eat," Grayermoans.
Dusk is falling when we finally pull into the Homers' shingled, three-story house. Ferdie, their golden
retriever, is sleeping peacefully on the wraparound porch under the hammock and the crickets chirp
loudlyingreeting.JackHornerpushesthescreendoor open,wearing fadedjeansandBirkenstocks.
"Takeoffyourtie!Quick!" Mrs. Xwhispers.
"Parkanywhere!" heshoutswith a broadsmilefromtheporch.
Mr. X isdivestedofhis blazer,tie,andcufflinks beforewe canget outofthecar.
I stretchout my cramped back as I walk aroundto thetrunk.I fish the rhubarbpie Mrs. X boughtat the
supermarket this morning out of the cooler. "Here, I'll take that," she says, walking off after Mr. X,
who's holding a bottle of wine, and followed by Grayer, holding his Kokichu in front of him, like the
threewise men.
"Jack!"Themenshakehandsandclapeachotherontheback.
Elliepeeksaroundthe door. "Mom!They're here!"
Jack ushers us into the cozy living room, where one wall is completely covered in the children's art and
a macaronisculpturesitsonthecoffeetable.
Carolinecomes outofthekitchenwearingjeansand awhiteblouse, wipingherhandsonher apron. "Hi!
I'm sorry,don't shakemy hands. was just marinating the steaks." Ellie attaches herself to Caroline's
leg. "Didyouguys haveanytroublefindingtheplace?"
"Not atall, yourdirections wereperfect,"Mrs. Xquicklyresponds. "Here."Shehandsoffthepiebox.
"Oh, thank you. Hey, Elle, whydon't you showGrayer your room?" She bumps the girl gently with her
hip.
THE NANNY DIARIES
"Wanna see my Kokichu?" He takes a step forward, proffering the fluffy ball. She looks down at the
yellow furandrunsoff,Grayer's cuetofollow,andtheyscamperupstairs.
"Nanny,whydon't yougowatch thekids?" Mrs. Xsays tome.
"Oh, they're fine. I took away Elite's Ginsu knives, so Grayer should be safe," Caroline says, laughing.
"Nanny,wouldyoulikesomewine?"
"Yes, drinks.What's your pleasure?" Jackasks.
"DoyouhaveanyScotch?" Mr. X asks.
"Winewouldbegreat," Mrs. Xsays,smiling.
"Red?White?"
"Whatever you're having,"Mrs. Xsays. "Where aretheother girls?"
"Setting the table. Would you excuse me? I'm just going to finish getting dinner together," Caroline
says.
"Wouldyoulikeanyhelp?" I ask.
"Actually,that'dbegreat,if youdon't mind."
Jack and Mr. X go outside to do manly things with the barbecue, while we follow Caroline into the
kitchen, where Lulu and Katie, ages eightand six, are sitting at thetable, rolling up napkins and putting
theminrings.
"Nanny!" They leap up as soon as I come in, throwing their arms around me, much to Mrs. X's chagrin.
I pickup Katieandquicklydipher backward,holdingontoherlegs,thengive Luluherturn.
"Wouldyoumindtossingthesalad?" Carolinehandsoffthebowland aMasonjarfull of dressing.
"Not atall."AsI startflippingthelettuceI noticethesweet aroma of apie baking.
"WhatcanI do?" Mrs. Xasks.
"Oh,nothing.I wouldn't wantyoutoruinyourbeautifulcoat."
"Honey?"We hearJackcalling fromthebackyard.
"Lu, wouldyourunoutsideandseewhatDadwants?"Thelittlegirl comes runningback a secondlater.
"Hesays thegrill's ready."
"Okay,will youcarrythesteaksouttohim,butbecarefulor we're all having grilledcheesefordinner."