Nanny Diaries

Chapter 15 - The Time Traveler's Who?

A few weeks after my confession to Zack, we have settled into the groove of life. In the mornings after Matt is off to school, I go over to Zack’s place or he comes to mine. I usually like spending time at his, because I’m somehow afraid Angie and Chris will get wind of my sudden, unexpected relations with this dark-haired gem of mine. 

I prefer to keep him somewhat under wraps, and George has (reluctantly) agreed to play along until I find the right time to inform them myself. That probably won’t be until around Christmas, which gives us plenty of breathing room from here to then. 

This particular afternoon I bribed George into picking Matt up from school with my almighty skills of persuasion and his favorite chocolate chip cookies from the bakery down the street. I think the young-ish girl who works there might have a thing for him. I mentioned I was purchasing the sweets for him, as we are regulars in that shop, and she gave them to me on the house. I’ll have to remember that trick. 

My legs are tucked into a blanket on Zack’s lap and we are sitting on his couch, reading the same book, The Time Traveler’s Wife. We decided to read it together before watching the movie, and so far, are loving it. 

“Gomez needs to back off.” I say over the top of my copy, peering at Zack’s concentrated expression, absentmindedly stroking my feet. He nods thoughtfully at me without lifting his eyes from his page. We’ve been playing this game for days now; who can get farther ahead, all because I bragged one time about how quickly I read. He challenged me and now we are in a constant waging battle to prove our superiority over the other. He’s currently two pages ahead. 

“I like the name Alba.” he says without looking up. I place my book in my (now small) lap, and stroke his hair as best I can reach. “Me too,” I murmur. 

His attention turns to my stomach, ripe with the growing baby occupying his or her time there, and pats it affectionately. 

“Would you name a daughter Alba?” I ask, my heart clenching with the question, but it slips out before I have time to properly process it. 

He clears his throat, shifting a few times. “I don’t know. Depends, I guess.”

“On what?” I ask softly. 

“On if she was an Alba. Babies aren’t just named; if you’re smart, they tell you their name, and you hear it.”

I hum quietly, charmed by his words. They ring so true with me. We go back to reading and I lose myself in the world that the author has created. It’s magical. 

I poke him with my foot, which is freezing, while the rest of my body is perfectly warm, and he remains still. I repeat the act more times than necessary until he finally stops reading and gazes back at me. 

“Am I Clare, and are you Henry?” I ask. 

Zack purses his lip, glancing down at the book clasped between two of his fingers to save his place. On the cover is the feet a young girl, with stockings and Mary Janes on, and to her right sits a thermos, and a folded pile of clothes with shoes on top. Clare is forever “waiting for Henry”. 

“Did I wait for you, or did you wait for me? Who is the time traveler?” I ask, since he has stayed silent. I rub my belly absentmindedly. 

“I think you’re Henry.” he answers. His face is cast in shadow as the sun passes behind a cloud and I can’t help but feel a twinge. If only things could be this way - this simple, perfect - all the time. 

“Why?” I ask. The telephone rings in his bedroom, and he lifts my feet off his lap, to which I pout, and goes to answer it. I tap my feet on the couch in a bored kind of way while I wait for his return, itching for him to sit back down next to me. I don’t know how Clare does it. How does she stand to sit and wait for Henry?

Am I the time traveler’s girlfriend, of this pair, or is he the time traveler’s boyfriend? I find that I really want to know. At the second that I am preparing to dig myself out of the couch and retrieve Zack, he reappears and comes toward me smiling. 

“Do you want to go away for the weekend?” he asks before I can say a word. 

I lift my head from the book, trying to make sense of the words. 

“I have a family home in the Hampton's. Do you want to take a trip? We could bring Matt.” he adds. “It was the keeper on the phone. She looks after the house and makes any repairs that are needed, especially during the winter. In exchange, she lives there nine out of twelve months of the year. She’s leaving tomorrow, and this is as perfect time as any to take a break from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan.”

I love that he thinks to include Matt. I’ve been so preoccupied lately, with the baby on the way and Zack, I’ve hardly been present. Matt likes Zack. This could be a good opportunity for them to bond, and I wouldn’t mind getting away, even for just a few days. 

“Yeah. I’d love that.” I say. Excitement bubbles in my chest, prompting me to bounce on my toes a bit. Zack laughs as I struggle to calm myself, as he should, because it is a truly funny sight, if you’re ever lucky enough to witness one. I’ve never been to the Hampton’s as long as I’ve been in Manhattan. 

“Really?” Zack asks. 

“Yes! I can’t wait!”

“Okay. We’ll leave Friday?” He seems as if it was too easy to convince me, when all he had to say was “Come with me.” and I would’ve followed. 

I nod vigorously. At this he sends me a dazzling smile, and I pat his vacated spot, longing for his lap to return. I love when we can sit this way. He does and we resume reading in silence for the rest of the afternoon, my question of who is who, forgotten.