uniformed woman appears before us. "This isAlex. Sorry, we had a bit of
troubletearingourselves
away from the blue goop." I notice some of it still clinging to her nylon jacket. "Alex, say hello to
Grayer,"shesaysin athickWestIndianaccent.
Afterproperintroductionswepushour chargesover toFifthAvenue. Like little oldmen inwheelchairs, theyrelaxbackintheirseats,lookaboutandoccasionallyconverse. "MyPowerRangerhas a subatomic machinegunandcancutyourPower Ranger's headoff."
Murnel and I are comparatively quiet. Despite the fact that we share the same job title, in her eyes I probably have more in common with Grayer, as there are at least fifteen years and a long subway ride fromtheBronxbetweenus.
"Howlongyoubeentakingcareof him?" Shenods downinthedirectionof Grayer's stroller.
"Amonth.Howaboutyou?"
"Oh, nearly three years now. My daughter looks after Alex's cousin, Benson, up on Seventy-second.
You knowBenson?"sheinquires.
"I don't thinkso.Isheis intheir class?"
"Benson's a girl." We bothlaugh."Andshegoestoschoolacross thepark.Howoldareyou?"
"Just turnedtwenty-one inAugust."I smile.
"Ooh, you're my son's age. I should introduce you. He's real smart, just opened his own diner out by
LaGuardia.You got aboyfriend?"
"Nope, haven't met one lately who isn't more trouble than he's worth," I say. She nods in agreement.
"Thatmust notbeaneasythingtodo. pen a restaurant,I mean."
"Well, he's a real hard worker. Gets it from his mother," she says proudly, bending over to pick up the
drainedjuiceboxAlexhas tossedintothestreet. "Mygrandson's hardworking,too,andhe's only seven.
He's doingrealwell inhisclasses."
"That's great."
THE NANNY DIARIES
"My neighbor always says he's so good about doing his homework. he stays with him in the
afternoonstillmydaughtercangethome fromBenson,roundnine,usually."
"Nanny!I wantmorejuice!"
"Please,"I say, reachingintothestrollerbag.
"Please,"Grayermumbles asI passhim asecondjuicebox.
"Thankyou,"I correcthimandMurnelandI exchangesmiles.
I'm thelast of our crew towalkthroughAlex's front door. Thereis very little in this neighborhoodthatI
haven't seen, but I'm completely unpreparedfor the large strip of duct tape runningdown the middle of
thefronthall.
According to New York State law, if one spouse moves out the other can claim abandonment and will most likely get the apartment. Some of these places go for fifteen to twenty million, forcing years of bitter cohabitation while each spouse tries to wear down the other by, for example, bringing in their half-nakedexerciseinstructor/lover tolive.
"Okay, now you boys can play anywhere on that side," she says, gesturing to the left side of the
apartment.
"Nanny, why is there a stripe? I fix Grayer with a quick Look of Death as I unbuckle his stroller and
thenwait untilAlex isbehindme toraisemyfingertomylipsandpointtothetape.
"Alex's mommy anddaddyareplaying a game,"I whisper. "We'll talkaboutitathome."
"Mydad's notsharing,"Alexannounces.
"Now who wants grilled cheese?Alex, go show Grayer your new photongun,"Murnel says as theboys
run off. Sheturns towardthekitchen. "Makeyourself athome," shesays, rollingher eyes atthetape.
I wanderintotheliving room,whichis fauxLouisXIV meetsJackieCollins,with anice,wide stripeof
electrical tapedownthemiddletogiveit thatcertainjenesaisquoi. I sitdownonwhatI hope
is the Switzerland area of the couch and instantly recognize the work of Antonio. He's the assistant to
one of the most popular decorators and will, for a minor consideration, pop by frequently to "plump"
yourpillows. Heis,inessence, a professionalpillow plumper.
I trytoheavethetwenty-pound copyofTuscanHomes,thecurrentcoffeetablebookof choice,intomy
lap without bruising myself.After a few minutes of flipping through pictures of villas, I become aware
of a littlenoserestingonthearmof thecouch."Hey,"I quietlyacknowledgethenose.
"Hey," he replies, coming around the couch to slump face-first onto the cushion next to me, his