Nancy’s Theory of Style, page 10
Birdie shrugged an angular shoulder and put the cigarettes away. “You need some art on these walls. I’ll send you something. The light is excellent for a large piece above the mantle,” she said. “I saw your mother the other day. I think she’s having a nervous breakdown.”
“I had dinner with her recently and she was absolutely fine,” Nancy said. “I heard the news about your friend, Leo. I’m sorry.”
Birdie looked down at her cocktail and said, “He was a remarkable man. Such a loss.” She sighed and looked melancholy for a moment.
“How long are you here?”
“I haven’t decided. I met the most incredible Greek man in Nairobi, Yannis. We had a spectacular time traveling through Kenya. You must go as soon as you possibly can. Words cannot describe the twilight on Lamu Island. I had to wear a headscarf, of course, but Yannis said that I looked as mysterious as a sphinx.”
Nancy felt obligated to say something to the child holding the glass of water. “Did you see any elephants or giraffes?”
The girl regarded her solemnly and said, “I saw a cow.”
Birdie laughed, a delicious, captivating laugh, and said, “Oh, I didn’t take her with me! She stayed on a farm with friends near Woodstock. They’re all very organic this and slow movement that. They make their own clothes and gave her that charming little frock.”
Eugenia was swinging her stubby legs. Nancy tried not to react, hoping that the grimy red rubber boots wouldn’t mark the upholstery.
Birdie said, “So you left Todd. That type always cheats so don’t blame yourself. I knew he must be excruciating in bed.”
Nancy glanced at the child, but the girl was looking off into mid-space. “Birdie! He didn’t cheat and I left temporarily to, uhm, explore career possibilities.”
“Very loyal of you to pretend, but sad, too. I once considered seducing Todd to save you. I’d have to get paralyzed with drugs and drink to endure it, though, and you know how Sissy would twist that,” she said speaking of her younger sister.
“Birdie!”
“You need to find a Greek man. They are divinely passionate and know the art of making love to a woman,” Birdie said. Her green eyes narrowed dreamily. “Yannis likes to undress me so slowly that by the time---”
Nancy quickly said, “Birdie, are you going somewhere tonight? May I see your dress?”
Birdie stood and gracefully slipped off her fur coat. The dress was an exquisitely draped jersey in a dark taupe-gray that accentuated Birdie’s dramatic coloring. “Halston, would you believe it?” The dress had a high neckline, and Birdie pirouetted to show a sexy low back. Her beauty was both ancient and utterly modern.
“You always know how to wear clothes,” Nancy said. “Clothes never wear you.” She didn’t want to, but she had to ask about the scarlet satin t-strap heels.
“Louboutin,” Birdie said. “Although you once told me that only whores and children wear red shoes. I had to wrest Grammy’s fur from my mother’s death grip. It’s so cold here after Africa. She warned me to keep away from eco-terrorists, which is ridiculous since they’re so exciting, always willing to do something adventurous in the middle of the night.”
“I have a cape,” the child said.
Birdie looked at her daughter as if surprised to see her in the room. “Yes, sweetie, you can show Auntie Nanny your cape later.”
Auntie Nanny sounded awful and Nancy said, “I really wish—“
Birdie tossed back the rest of her drink and said, “I’m very proud of you for setting up a new life for yourself. I’ve always said that you have more sense than most of the family.”
“Is that a compliment to me, or an insult to the family?”
“Both. I’ve got to run. I’m meeting Yannis and he’s a beast if I’m late.”
“It was lovely to see you, Birdie. You, too, Eugenia. Maybe we could have lunch and go shopping.” She stared at the child and said. “Or we could go to Steinhart Aquarium…” Nancy hadn’t been to the gift shop there in years.
“Maybe. Yannis wants me to go to Corfu to meet his family, but you know how I feel about families.” Birdie stood, put on her coat, and walked to the front door. “Nanny, I’ve got a blazing headache coming on. Do you have any opiates?”
Nancy wasn’t going to aide and abet Birdie, who was already oblivious enough of her child. “I have Advil.”
“I guess that will have to do. Would you please crush four of them into a fine powder and dissolve them in a glass of water with ice and a twist of lemon.”
“Still or sparkling?
“Half and half. I know a clever man who bottles his own starkling…it works as both still and sparkling.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the one who says silly things, Birdie,” Nancy said. “It will take a minute.”
“I’ll wait. Don’t rush!”
Nancy went to the bathroom, got the Advil from the medicine cabinet, and took it to the kitchen. It took her a few minutes to pulverize the pills with the back of a spoon. Even after she stirred the crushed pills in the water for a long time, they didn’t dissolve completely. She twisted a sliver of lemon peel into the glass and she took the drink to the hallway.
Birdie was gone.
Well, that was typical Birdie. Nancy carried the glass back to the kitchen and poured the water into the sink. When she raised her head, she saw the reflection of something moving in the window before her.
She jumped and turned.
Ghostly little Eugenia was standing in the doorway.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
Chapter 9: Dress Plainly, Accessorize Extravagantly
“What are you doing here?” Nancy asked.
“Mama said stay. I’m hungry.”
“Where’s your mommy?”
“She went away.”
Nancy took the child’s puny hand and led her to the entry hall. She opened the door and looked out. No one was there. She returned to the living room and saw an exquisite caramel leather overnight bag and a pink Little Mermaid backpack by her writing table.
“Love your bags, but no,” Nancy said.
“No food?”
“No, you can’t stay. What’s your mother’s phone number?”
The child scrunched her face in thought.
“I’ll get you some milk.” Nancy went into the kitchen and poured milk into an alumni mug that Todd had left. The drink looked boring and unappealing. She added a few tablespoons of Italian almond syrup, frothed it up with her espresso machine’s foamer, and sprinkled the drink with Ghirardelli chocolate.
When she returned to the living room, the girl was sitting on the floor.
Nancy said, “You can’t drink it here. You’ll spill. Come sit at the table.” She led the girl to the 18th Century French mahogany table, a birthday present from her mother. Placing the mug on a coaster, Nancy said, “Be careful. I’m going to make a phone call.”
Nancy went to her bedroom, but left the door open so she could hear if Eugenia dropped the mug. She called her mother first. “Mom!”
“Hello, Nanny-goat. I heard your party went well.”
“Yes, and I would love to tell you all about it, but Birdie just showed up with her little girl.”
“At the party?”
“No, at my place today. She said she was going out to dinner and asked for a glass of water. When I came back, she’d left Eugenia here. Do you have Birdie’s phone number, or know where she’s staying?”
“No.” After a few seconds, Hester said, “I don’t see why you can’t take care of her until Birdie comes back from dinner.”
“She went ‘out to dinner’ with her new Greek lover and she left the girl and her luggage, including a to-die-for overnighter the color of melted toffee.
“You always need to carry so many things when you have children. I’m sure Birdie will be back soon.”
“We are talking about Birdie. Birdie who considers her profession to be an artist’s muse, which is just another way of saying—”
“Nanny! There is no reason to be vulgar. Just call your Aunt Frilly and ask for Birdie’s phone number. You have such issues with children, as though you’d never been one. It’s no wonder that your marriage…”
Nancy could hear her catch in her mother’s voice. “Mom, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
She quickly called her Aunt Phillipa, aka, Aunt Frilly, who lived in Santa Barbara. “Hello, Aunt Frilly.”
“Nanny, how nice to hear from you! Birdie was just asking about you, and I told her you were at the Chateau.”
“Actually, I’m calling about Birdie. Would you please give me her phone number?”
“As soon as I get it, I will. She said she needed a new phone because she dropped the last one in an ice bucket.”
“Why am I not surprised? I really, really need to talk to her now. Where is she staying?” Nancy heard her aunt sigh heavily.
“What has she done now?”
“She left Eugenia here and took off to dinner without saying anything! Do you think she’s coming back after dinner?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Aren’t you lucky to have a chance to spend time with your niece!”
“Technically, my cousin’s daughter is my second cousin.”
“That not a very nice attitude, Nanny. When I took you out with Sissy and people thought I was your mother, I was so proud. I never said that technically you weren’t my daughter, because the love was there.”
“It’s not…oh, all right, I’ll watch my niece for a few hours.”
“That’s very sweet of you! Yes, you keep her and I’m sure that Birdie will be back soon! You’re a good girl, Nanny, no matter what everyone says. Bye!”
“But, Aunt Frilly--” Nancy said to the dead line.
It was okay. She was Nancy Carrington-Chambers, a woman who could put together highly detailed plans to entertain the most demanding. Surely she could watch over a child for two hours.
Nancy went to the dining room and saw the empty mug beside the coaster. “Eugenia!” she called and went to the living room. The little girl had opened the leather case and was pulling out the contents.
“Eugenia, you forgot to use the coaster. What are you doing?”
“I want my cape.” The girl took out children’s picture books, a plastic dinosaur, one tiny plastic sandal, and clothes garishly emblazoned with cartoon characters.
“You don’t need a cape. We’re going for a quick dinner. Put those things away neatly while I clean up the disaster you left on my table.”
Nancy cleared off the mug, and then wiped and buffed the table with a soft cloth and lemon oil. She lowered her head so that her eyes were level with the table top to make sure that the luster was even. Satisfied, she got a lightweight black coat and went to check on the child.
Eugenia had done a tragically inadequate job of repacking the bag. She had placed a red terry cloth towel over her shoulders and a paper crown on her head. “Will you tie my cape?” she said clutching at the ribbons that had been safety-pinned to two corners of the towel.
“That is certainly some costume, Eugenia. You don’t need the cape. As Coco Chanel said, when you’re about to leave the house, remove one accessory. In your case, I would say, remove two, that crown and the cape. You can borrow one of my shawls. Any color you want!”
Nancy plucked the paper crown from the girl’s head and tried to remember where she’d packed away her collection of patinas, assuming that they would eventually come back into fashion. As she reached for the towel, she saw panic in the child’s eyes.
“No, no, I need my cape!” Eugenia whined. Her lower lip pouted out, and she turned her body away protectively.
Nancy wasn’t in the mood for a struggle, so she said, “Fine, wear your ‘cape.’” She bent over and tied the ribbons together. “What are you supposed to be? A clown?”
“Clowns are scary.”
“Wiser words were never spoken. There’s nothing more terrifying than deliberately bad hair and outlandish shoes.” Nancy stood and said, “Let’s go.”
When the girl just stood there, Nancy reluctantly reached for her hand. It was so small, warm and moist, like a little animal paw. Nancy imagined that it was probably teeming with bacteria. She led the child down the stairs and out of the building.
It was still early evening and urbanites were out with their offspring, children dressed and groomed as if they were going off to photo shoots that involved SUVs and Labradors. Nancy preferred children in magazines to the tantrum-throwing, nose-picking, noisome three-dimensional versions.
Nancy thought of the least popular restaurants in the neighborhood. “Eugenia, do you like noodles or muffins?”
“I like donuts.”
“Of course you do.” Nancy walked on, trying to look as if she was not actually connected to the child whose hand she was holding. She took Eugenia to the chain coffee shop that was reviled by all but the most rusticated tourists.
Only a few items remained on the crumb-laden aluminum trays in the display cases. Out of nowhere, Nancy felt a sense of responsibility. “You can have an apple turnover. It has fruit, and children need fruit.”
“I want that.” Eugenia stabbed her finger against the glass case toward a muffin studded with chocolate chips.
“Okay, but only because this is a special treat. Don’t think that I approve of this sort of food.”
“Yes?” asked the impatient clerk.
“Two chocolate chip muffins, one carton of milk, and what kinds of coffee do you have?”
“Café or decaf.”
“Café, please,” Nancy said, feeling the thrill of slumming.
The clerk put the muffins on beige Buffalo china saucers and poured coffee into a matching cup.
After Nancy paid, they sat at a wobbly Formica table and Nancy took two thin paper napkins from the metal dispenser. She opened the milk carton and put the straw in it for Eugenia.
“Isn’t this lovely!” she said. “Put your napkin on your lap, Eugenia. How old are you?”
The girl lifted one hand, smeared with chocolate, and made a claw-like gesture.
“Three?” Nancy guessed. She took a sip of coffee and immediately regretted it. She put a paper napkin to her mouth and surreptitiously spit the alleged coffee into it.
Eugenia said, “I’m almost five.”
Ah, the gesture was her attempt at the half. “Wipe your mouth, please. Where are you and your mother staying? At a hotel?”
“Mommy stays with Yannis. We stay at the airport.”
“You came from the airport, but you don’t stay there. Where do you sleep?”
The question puzzled the girl. “My grammy has a room for me with a big bed and pictures of fairies.”
Nancy smiled. “That’s where I sleep when I visit your grandmother. Those painting of ballerinas are by a painter named Edgar Degas. I used to want to be a ballerina. Then I wanted to be a fairy princess.”
“Like Tinker Bell?” The girl wiped at her mouth with her napkin, smearing chocolate over her face.
“Yes, like Tinker Bell and like Glinda, the good witch in ‘The Wizard of Oz.’”
“You look like Tinker Bell. I like living at Grammy’s, but Grammy was crying and Yannis called her a bad name, so mommy took me away and said I could stay with you.”
Nancy thought the word “stay” was ominously inexact. And why hadn’t Aunt Frilly told her about the argument?
The girl brightened and said, “Mommy said you have a pony.”
“I do! His name is Willoughby and he lives at my parents’ house.” Willoughby was a handsome and untrustworthy miniature horse that Nancy had gotten in high school. “I have a cart for him and we ride around a little track and I wear a wide-brimmed straw bonnet and hold a pretty whip of silk ribbons.”
“I saw a cow. Her name was Lulu and he had spots. Can I see your pony?”
“You can meet him the next time your mommy takes you to visit my mother and father. Willoughby lives in a little stable and has his own corral. He has a luxurious long black and white mane and tail.” Nancy had wanted to build a small stable and paddock for the pony at her house, but Todd said no. Just because Willoughby had bitten him once or twice.
Eugenia said, “I want a pony.”
“Really?” Nancy was about to offer her the horse when she realized how unlikely it was that Birdie would settle down anywhere long enough to raise an animal. “Maybe you’ll get one someday.” Nancy sorted through her berry-colored patchwork bag and took out a packet of verbena-scented towelettes. Reaching over she wiped the girl’s mouth and then her hands.
“That smells good,” said Eugenia as Nancy wiped her own hands.
“Yes, it does. Little girls and big girls should smell nice. Boys can be stinky and dirty.”
Eugenia’s laugh startled Nancy. It was a pretty little laugh, a child’s version of Birdie’s.
“We better get back in case your mother wonders where we are.”
“Mommy said to stay with you, Auntie Nanny.”
“Yes, I know. But we have to be ready when she comes back.”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Okay.” Nancy saw a sign for the restrooms. “It’s back there.”
“You have to come with me.”
“You are very high maintenance.” Nancy walked the girl to the back of the building and the unisex bathroom. She issued several ewhs as she used a paper towel to lower the seat and then placed two seat covers on the seat. “You should never sit directly on the seats,” she advised. “Full of gross cooties.”
Nancy looked away politely as the girl used the toilet. “Wash your hands with soap and hot water for as long as it takes you to count to thirty.”
“I can count to ten.”
“Count to ten three times, then,” Nancy said, but Eugenia could not grasp simple multiplication concepts.
Nancy held the girl’s hot little paw as they headed back toward Chateau Winkles. They were near a posh children’s boutique when Nancy spotted Junie Burns coming out with a floppy-haired boy wearing a blazer and slacks. Junie was carrying several shopping bags and chatting to the boy.
