Nanny Returns by McLaughlin Emma & Kraus Nicola

Author:McLaughlin, Emma & Kraus, Nicola [McLaughlin, Emma & Kraus, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781416585671
Publisher: Atria
Published: 2010-08-10T07:00:00+00:00

15

Later that morning I find myself riding up in the Xes’ elevator, my head pounding in exhaustion, still wearing what I pulled on to walk Grace. In concession to the standards of their zip code, I raise my arm overhead and sniff my sweatshirt to check if the spackling of deodorant is working. After waiting until six a.m. for Steve to bring a ladder tall and sturdy enough to support the descent of a two-hundred-pound man and a sixty-pound dog, and then restraining myself from beating him with it, I woke on my air mattress on the living room floor at seven and had to pee in a bucket.

At least we didn’t have to resort to the fire department, who would have condemned our sorry asses right onto the street. Us being me and Grace. Ryan was, I believe, enjoying the turndown service at the Lilongwe Hilton. Yes, while he was sleeping soundly in a down surround, daybreak found me achieving some level of nineteenth-century hygiene with a bowl, a kitchen towel, and a half-empty bottle of Joy.

By eight Mrs. X had called to request my assistance and here I am, tired, punchy, and deliciously underdressed. Yup, this is me. Giving a shit. About impressing. You. Saz answers the door in ironed jeans, an IZOD shirt, and ballet flats. “Nan, good morning.”

“Hey, Saz.”

“Nan!” Mrs. X calls from the dining room. “In here!” I follow to where Mrs. X sits in an oversized terry-lined silk bathrobe, surrounded by takeout bags from Payard, her unturbaned hair twisted up with a clip. “Nan, thank you so much for coming. It was actually Saz’s idea. I’m just in no state today to help them pack. Last night took too much out of me.”

“Happy to help,” I lie, without bothering to add the usual exclamation point. “How are they?”

“Well, Grayer can’t wait to get out of here, I’m sure, after that little display—honestly, I’m going to be on the phone all day cleaning this up—I just hope my voice holds out.”

“Honey, don’t overtax yourself.” Saz reseats herself beside Mrs. X. “Despite your husband’s best attempts to drop the blame at your feet, everyone knows Grayer wouldn’t have …” Her eyes go to the drapes as she searches for the words. “Acted out like that if his father wasn’t leaving you in the lurch. Croissant?” She offers me the bag.

“Thanks.” I wriggle out a brioche because it won’t make crumbs and I’m not sitting down. “It seemed like everyone really enjoyed themselves last night.”

“It was a disaster.” Saz snorts, pressing her fingertips to the flakes on her plate. “We barely covered our expenses. I’m supposed to be at Bunny’s right now for a postmortem, but I can’t face it.” She smiles at Mrs. X.

“Well, I’m going to head in and help them pack.”

“Grayer spoke with someone on Carter’s staff and they’re expected by noon.”

“Great, I’ll get them downstairs.”

“Oh …” She looks fretful.

“Yes?” I ask warily, having engaged with this look many times before.

“Well, if you could just see them there.

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