Part 17 (1/2)
I click back.
”h.e.l.lo,miss?Thanksforholding.Therearenodelays.All flightsarerunningonschedule.”
”Thankyou,”I say, hangingup.s.h.i.+t. s.h.i.+t. s.h.i.+t.
1 walk slowly through the living room and go stand outside the library, where Mrs. X and Grayer are seatedonthenavyleathercouch,studying theweatherintheMidwest.
”So staytuned,becauseafter thebreakwe'll betalkingtoCindy in Little Springs about what it's doing on her back porch,” a perky voice says from the television. I feel queasy.
”Nanny?” Sheroundsthedoor frame,nearlyknockingintome. ”It justoccurredtome. all Justineand getthenumberof his hotel.Theweather's fine. aybehis meetingranlate.”
”Urn,actually Mr. Xjustcalledontheotherline,while I wasonholdwiththeairline, andthat's whathe said.Hismeetingranlate. Sohesaidhe'll calltomorrownightand,uh?
Sheraisesherpalmuptosilenceme. ”Whydidn't youcome getme?”
”He,um,hesaidhehadtogo?
”I see.”Shepressesher lipstogether. ”Andwhatelse didhesay?”
I can feel small beads of perspiration rolling down my sides. ”He said, um, he was just going to spend thenightthere.”I castmyeyes downtoavoidhergaze.
Shetakes a stepcloser. ”Nanny,I wantyou.To tellme. Exactly.Whathesaid.”
Pleasedon't makeme dothis.
”Well?” Shewaitsforananswer.
”Hesaidhewa.s.snowedinandhe'll call youtomorrow,”I sayquietly.
Sheshudders.
I glance up. She looks as if I've just slapped her and I return my eyes to the floor. She walks back into the library, picks up the remote and turns off the television, silencing and darkening the room. She remains immobile, silhouetted against the lights of Park Avenue, her red silk gown s.h.i.+mmering in the somberblueroom, herhandstill grippingtheremote.
Grayer's wide eyes stare up at me in the darkness from where he sits, hands carefully crossed in his lap. ”Come on, Grayer. Let's get readyforbed.”I extendmyhandandhewriggles offthecouchandfollows me withoutprotest.
Heisuncharacteristicallyquietwhile webrushteethandputonpajamas. 1 readhim Mais^ GoestoBed about alittle mousewith asimple mission.
”'Maisybrushedher teeth.'Did Grayerbrushhis teeth?”
”Yes.”
”'Maisywashedherfaceandhands.'Did Grayerwash his face andhands?”
”Yes.” Andsoonuntilhe's yawning andhiseyes areopening andclosing.
I stand to kiss him on the forehead and realize his hand is clenching my sweater. I gently uncurl his fingers. ”Goodnight, Grover.”
I walk tentatively out into the cold, gray light of the marble foyer. ”Mrs. X?” 1 call out. ”I'm leaving.
Okay?” Noanswer.
I walk down the long, dark hall to her bedroom, through the numerous hot pools of light illuminating thepaintings. Thedoor is open. ”Mrs. X?” I enter her bedroomand can hearthesoundof m.u.f.fledcrying coming from behind the closed dressing-room door. ”Um, Mrs. X? Grayer's asleep. Do you need anything?” Quiet.
”I'm just gonna go, okay?” I stand right up against the door and can hear her weeping quietly on the other side. The image of her curled up on the floor in her beautiful gown makesme put myhands to my chest.
”Nanny?” avoice,strainingtosoundcheerful,calls out. ”Is thatyou?”
”Yes.” I pickupour emptywinegla.s.ses fromthebedsidetable, carefultokeepthemfromclinking.
”Okay,yougoonahead.Seeyoutomorrow.”
”Um, there's still somepizzaleft. Doyouwantme towarmitupforyou?”
”No,that's okay. Goodnight.”
”Are yousure? 'Causeit's notrouble.”
”No,that's reallyfine. Seeyoutomorrow.”
161.
”Okay, good night.” I walk back down the long beige hall to the kitchen, place the gla.s.ses in the sink, and put out a fruit plate, just in case. I decide to wait till I get downstairs to cancel their expired reservation.
I go back into the hall, grab my coat and boots, and pull my paper heart out from Grayer's stroller pocket. It sprinklestheblack-and-white tile with a lightdusting of red glitter. I kneeland press myhand over thesparkles,quicklyliftingthemupandbrus.h.i.+ngthemintomybackpack.
Herlowsobsgive wayto adeep,animal-like keeningasI gentlyclosethedoorbehindme.
They all felt that there was no sense in their living together, and that any group of people, who had met together by chance at an inn would have had more in common than they, the members of the Oblonsky family and their servants. The wife did not leave her own rooms and the husband stayed away from home all day. Thechildrenstrayed all over thehouse,notknowingwhattodowiththemselves.
. NNAKARENINA.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
eRegrettoInformYou OnMondayatnoonI wait inthe schoolcourtyard, having watchedMrs. b.u.t.ters pateachof her heavily bundledstudentsontheheadandsendthemofftowaiting nannies,andstill noGrayer.
”Mrs. b.u.t.ters?” I ask.
”Yes?”
”Was Grayer inschooltoday?”
”No.”Shegrins atme.
”Okay,thanks,”I say.
”Sure.”