THE NANNY DIARIES
Much later that night I ride down in the elevator half-asleep, entertaining the fantasy of walking along the Seine humming "La Vie en Rose." It's twenty past twelve on the twenty-second.
Only twenty-third more hours to go until a month off and money in my pocket.
" 'Night James," I say to the doorman, just as he opens the door for H. H., rosy cheeked and carrying a Food Emporium bag.
"Hey, there. Just got off work?" he asks, smiling.
"Yup." Please don't let me have steamed chard between my teeth.
"That was some fine wassailing. You train him?"
"Impressed?" I ask carefully with my upper lip curled down. Enough patter, when's the date?
"Listen," he says, loosening his scarf, "are you doing anything right now, 'cause I just have to run upstairs. My mom's in a Christmas baking frenzy and we ran out of vanilla."
Oh. Now?
Okay, now works for me
"Yeah, great." As the numbers go from one to eleven and back again I quickly run to the beveled mirror and groom like a mad-woman.
I hope I'm not boring. I hope he's not boring. I try to remember if I shaved this morning.
Ugh, I'll be so bummed if he's boring. And let's try not sleeping with him. Tonight. I'm applying a furtive swipe of lip gloss as the elevator approaches "L."
"Hey, have you eaten yet?" he asks as James opens the door for us.
" 'Night James," I call over my shoulder. "It depends on what you mean by eating. If you consider a fistful of Goldfish and a few dry tortellini a meal then I'm stuffed."
"What are you up for?"
"Well." I think for a moment. "The only places with open kitchens right now are coffee shops and pizza. Take your pick."
"Pizza sounds good. Is that okay?"
"Anything not in this building sounds fabulous."
°°°°
"Here, sit on my jacket," he says as he closes the empty pizza box.
The Metropolitan Museum steps are cold and it's starting to seep up through my jeans.
"Thanks." I tuck his blue fleece under me and look down Fifth Avenue at the twinkling holiday lights of the Stanhope Hotel. H. H. pulls the container of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food out of a brown paper bag.
"So what's it like working on the ninth floor?"
"Exhausting and weird." I look back at him. "That apartment has all holiday warmth of meat locker and Grayer has a line Styrofoam snowman hanging in his closet, because she won't let him put it anywhere else."
"Yeah, she's always struck me a little high-strung."
"You have no idea, and with the holidays it's like working for a drill sergeant with ADD---"
YOU ARE READING
The nanny Diaries
HumorNan has a tricky relationship with her employer, Mrs. A non- existent relationship with Mr X. But she loves their little boy to pieces. In between looking after four-year-old Grayer and running a thousand errands for Mrs X, his rich, upr...
