my Filofax and chart out the deadlines for my next two papers. A taxi comes to a screeching halt on the corner and I look up at the pandemonium of honking cars around it. Across the median a blond woman stands frozen under the shade of an awning. The cars move againandshe's gone.
I crane my head, trying to locate the woman, to be sure if it was Caitlin. But the other side of Park Avenueisnowempty,savefor a maintenanceman polishing a brass hydrant.
"Not you!" Grayer draaaaags himself all the way across the courtyard, as if he were marching toward certaindeath.
"Hey,Grayer. Howwasschool?"
"Yucky."
"Yucky?Whatwasyuckyaboutit?" 1 unpinthehomework, pass offthejuice.
"Nothing."
"Nothingwasyucky?" Buckleinstroller,unwrappears.
"I don't wanttotalktoyou."
I kneel in front of the stroller and look him squarely in the eyes. "Look, Grayer, I know you don't like me verymuch."
"I HATEYOU!" I am light. I am clarity. I am wearing a big,pinkdress.
"And that's okay, you haven't known me very long. But I like you a lot." He starts to kick his leg out at me. "I knowyoumissCaitlin." Hefreezesatthesoundof her nameandI catchhis foot
THE NANNY DIARIES
firmly in my hand. "It's okay to miss Caitlin. Missing her shows that you love her. But being mean to
me hurts myfeelings and I knowCaitlin would never want you to hurt anyone's feelings. So, as long as
we're together,let's havefun."Hiseyes arelikesaucers.
As we headout of the courtyard the rainthat's been threatening all morning finally breaks and I have to
pushGrayer backup to721ParkAvenueasif I'm intheStroller Olympics.
"Weeeeeeee!" he cries and I make race-car noises and steer sharply around puddles all the way home. By the time we get into the lobby we're both soaked and I pray Mrs. X isn't home to see how I've exposedher childtopneumonia.
"I sure am wet.Areyouwet,Grayer?"
"I suream. I sure am wet."He's smiling, buthis teetharestartingtochatter.
"We're gonna get you rightupstairs and into a hot bath. Ever had lunchinthe bath, Grayer?" I steer him
intotheelevator.
"Wait! Holdit!" a malevoice shoutsfromaroundthecorner.
I slamthestrollerintomyankletryingtoangleitawayfromthe door. "Ow,sh. ot!"
"Hey, thanks," he says. I look up from my ankle. The rain has plastered his brown, chin-length hair and
frayedblueT-shirt tohis six-foot frame. Oh,my.
Astheelevator closes hecrouchesdowntospeakdirectly tothestroller. "Hey,Grayer!Whassup?"
"She's wet."Grayer pointsbehindhim.
"Hi,wet girl.AreyouGrayer's girlfriend?" Hesmiles atme,tuckinghis damphairbehindhis ear.
"He's notsureif he's readytomakethatkindof commitment," I say.
"Well, Grayer,don't lether getaway."If youtriedtocatchme,I promise I wouldrunvery slowly.
We arrive attheninthfloorwaytoosoon. "Have a greatafternoon,guys," hesaysaswe getout.
"You, too!" I cry asthedoorslidesclosed.Whoareyou?
"Grayer,whois he?" Stroller unclasped,wetshirtoff.
"Helives upstairs. Hegoestobigboy's school."Shoesoff,pantsoff,grablunchbag.
"Oh,yeah?Whichone?" Follow nakedtushtobathroom, turnontap.
He thinks for a moment. "Where the boatsgo.With the lighthouse."Okaaay.Two syllables, soundslike
...
"Harbor?" I query.
"Yeah, he goes to Harbard." Hello, I can totally do Boston, especially with the shuttle. We could
alternateweekends... Jesus!EARTHTONANNY,COME IN,NANNY.'
"Okay, Grayer, let's get you in the tub." I heave him over the edge, letting go of my Harvard Hottie for
themoment. ."Grayer,doyouhave anickname?"
"What's anickname?"
"Aname thatpeoplecallyouthatisn't Grayer."
"Myname isGrayer X. That's myname."
"Well, let's think of one." 1 pop him in the tub and pass him his organic peanut butter and quince jelly
sandwich.He wiggleshis toes in thewater ashe munchesthesandwichandI cantell it feelsfabulously unorthodoxtohim. I lookaroundthebathroomandmyeyes landonhis blueSesameStreet toothbrush. "WhataboutGraver?" I ask.
Hemullsitover,his headcockedtooneside,his SeriousThinkingFaceon,thennods. "We'll tryit."
Serenity King, Pepper Pace, Aliyah Burke, Erosa Knowles, Latrivia Nelson, Tianna Laveen, Bridget Midway, Yvette Hines