Nancy’s Theory of Style, page 13
“Indeed, Madame,” he said and they watched the colorful insect before it flew away on the breeze.
Nancy said, “I love this city.”
“I enjoy it more each time I visit.”
“I thought you lived here permanently. With Prescott.”
“Our paths take us apart for months at a time, but I am here for the foreseeable future.”
She exhaled in relief. “So you successfully live apart and then come together again? Perhaps that’s the key to a healthy relationship. I never thought it would be so hard to live with a man. My parents think I should compromise more with Todd.”
“When one is co-habiting, compromise is necessary, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers.”
“I like it when you call me that. It’s like Mrs. Thatcher, a voice of authority.”
“Or Mrs. Peel,” Derek said.
“Who’s that?”
“A character in an old programme called ‘The Avengers.’ She wore a skin-tight black leather, uhm what is the word for it, a one-piece outfit?”
Nancy smiled. “I know that catsuit! John Bates designed it. He also created the miniskirt, even though most people think it was Mary Quant, and bare midriffs, see-through panels, and PVC dresses. He was a visionary.”
“Did you study fashion, Madame?”
“I wanted to, but my father refused to pay for fashion design school. He wanted someone to follow in his footsteps, and I was his last hope. My oldest sister, Blaire, is married and doing art history post-doc work in Germany, and Ellie is a vet in Boston. I studied economics.”
“You could have survived on Pot Noodles like many students.”
“I thought about it, but I realized that I have a talent for appreciating design, but not for creating it. My cousin, Sissy, has real talent and she’s starting her own design line,” Nancy said. “My talent is knowing when something is beautiful and true. It calls to me. I recognized it when I saw you.”
“You enjoy offering extravagant compliments, Madame. No man could be worthy of such praise.”
“I’m serious. It was different with my husband, because he’s not fabulous,” she admitted. “But everything else was so right about us. We were so popular together.” She looked out toward the water, remembering sailing parties, first nights at the symphony, ski weeks at his family’s lodge, tailgaters, weekends surrounded by friends.
“How did you come to plan parties, Madame?”
“I was a financial analyst, but I was miserable being in a hideous office every day. I swear, the ‘corporate art’ used to taunt me. I used my wedding as an excuse to quit and found out that I loved planning events,” she said, thinking of how happy she was to walk out of that office tower for the last time.
Derek seemed to be actually listening, so she said, “Something magical happens when the ambiance is right and people are celebrating. It’s momentary and elusive, but it’s still important. I want to think that helping create that shared joy is important.”
She smiled and said, “Then I got stuck in the House of Horrors and here I am. The short and dull history of Nancy Edith Carrington Chambers. We’d better go or I’ll be late for my meeting about the warehouse.”
She and Derek collected Eugenia, who was throwing a ball to a slobbery Labrador, and walked back to the apartment. Nancy set the girl on the sofa to watch a cartoon about a smart-aleck cow and said to Derek, “I know you will manage beautifully while I’m gone.”
“You are more confident than I, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers,” he said with a look toward Eugenia.
“She seems to like you. Why shouldn’t she? You’re irresistible,” Nancy said with a smile. “My opinion on these things is inflatable.”
“Does Madame mean infallible?”
“No, inflatable, likely to swell.”
“Things that swell are inclined to explode,” he said. His mouth edged up a bit at the corner and she had a mad desire to kiss him.
She bit her lip and then said, “I’ll rely upon you to make sure nothing does explode.” She really needed to go out with a heterosexual man because this was the dirtiest conversation she’d had in years.
Chapter 11: Accentuate the Positive
Nancy’s meeting with the leasing agent went well. They negotiated until they found a rental rate and conditions that suited them both, but he was firm about a high insurance limit.
“I always get special events coverage in excess of any possible damage,” Nancy assured him. “Not that you need to worry. I stringently control all aspects of my parties.”
She drove back to the Chateau hoping that Birdie had reappeared. Nancy wanted to celebrate with Derek --- celebrate the job, the warehouse, surviving a day with a child.
She found him sitting with a sketchpad beside Eugenia, embellishing her drawings, and saying, “If he’s a boy, why is he a cow? He should be a bull.”
“He gots an under and cows got unders. Dinosaurs don’t got unders.”
She felt sorry that Derek had had to endure this blather. “Thanks for watching her. Birdie didn’t come by or call?”
He shook his head and stood. “No, but Mr. GP called to say he was able to lease the sets and costumes under the projected sum, and he’ll send you the logistics tomorrow. Was your meeting satisfactory?”
“Yes! Now that it’s settled we can move onto the invitations, caterers, staging, la la la. Did you find a pirate ship?”
“I did. The information is on your desk. I’ll be off then. I shall see you tomorrow, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers, Miss Eugenia.”
Nancy didn’t want him to leave her alone with Eugenia, but she couldn’t think of any reason to make him stay. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye.”
“Bye, Derek” Eugenia said.
“Cheers then,” he said, leaving Nancy alone with the strange small person.
It was just after five and the evening stretched out before her. “Eugenia, what time do you go to bed?”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Eugenia, you need to learn to answer the question you are asked. Does your mother make you go to bed after dinner?”
Eugenia considered the question. “Grammy says girls shouldn’t go to grown-up night parties.”
“Your grandmother is right. What do you do in the evenings?”
“Mama and her bedfriends go out.”
Nancy sighed and tried again: “What do you do?”
“I like to stay with Rochelle.”
“Who is Rochelle?”
“She brings the towels.”
“Your mother leaves you with a hotel maid?”
“Rochelle can blow smoke in circles and has a tattoo of a unicorn and rainbow on her tummy.”
Nancy shuddered. “Stay here and watch television and I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Nancy went to the kitchen to call her Aunt Frilly. She dialed repeatedly and her aunt picked up on the sixth call.
“Oh, Nancy, what a nice surprise to hear from you.”
“Hi, Aunt Frilly, I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”
“I wouldn’t do such a thing. You’re my favorite niece.”
“Your granddaughter is still here. If someone doesn’t come get her, I might have to leave her at the animal shelter down the street.”
“What a dreadful thing to say, Nanny!”
“It’s not as dreadful as ‘Birdie, you can dump your daughter off at Nancy’s.’”
“Nanny, when you got married and Sissy wanted that apartment, I told her not to put up a fuss because I knew you’d have to get away from Todd now and then.”
“Would you please repeat that because my ears couldn’t have possibly heard what I thought they heard?”
“We love Todd, but he’s a big frat boy, and you need your girl time. Think of the fun you’ll have playing with Eugenia until Birdie comes back!”
Nancy closed her eyes and calmed herself. A lady did not scream at her nicest aunt. “Do you know where Birdie is?”
“She mentioned Corfu, but she was arguing with that awful bearded man, and I don’t think she’ll make it to the airport without ending that relationship. Foreign men are much more attractive on foreign soils than at home. I’ll call you the minute I hear from her.”
Nancy panicked. “I’ll bring Eugenia to you, Aunt Frilly!”
“I’m sorry, Nanny,” Aunt Frilly said in a more serious tone. “Your Uncle Robert gave one of his edicts about Birdie. I’ll get him to change his mind soon, but in the meantime please watch Eugenia.”
“I have things to do. I have a business to run.”
“Can’t you do this one thing for me? Please? If you do, I’ll take you to Fashion Week.”
“Which one?”
“How about New York with Sissy! We’ll go to the showrooms and the museums.”
Nancy loved joining Aunt Frilly and Sissy on their fashion pilgrimages. “If I do this, you’ve got to tell me the millisecond you hear anything about Birdie, or if Uncle Robert changes his mind.”
“I will, darling! Birdie’s probably somewhere close. You know how she loves the West Coast.”
So Nancy was stuck with babysitting Eugenia for the foreseeable future. She needed to hand-wash her delicates so she threw Eugenia in the tub with them and used a little bubble bath to clean everything. Eugenia seemed happy splashing in the water and provided enough agitation to clean Nancy’s garments.
As she was shampooing Eugenia’s hair, Nancy asked, “Who cut your hair?”
“I cutted it.”
“Never cut your own hair, even if you’ve had a glass of wine and think it would be fun, okay?”
“Okay. Your hair is pretty, like corn. We ate corn at the farm.”
Nancy assumed that she meant corn silk, not corn. “It’s not pretty by accident. It takes professional styling and constant upkeep. However, I have suffered from heartbreaking haircuts in the past, so I sympathize.”
After the bath, Nancy gave Eugenia a bowl of cereal. She watched the child spooning Raisin Bran and decided to have a bowl herself.
Eugenia then wanted Nancy to read to her. Nancy read The Cat in the Hat to Eugenia and said, “The Cat is quite the style icon. The extravagant hat and bow tie, the dramatic wide stripes – not everyone could get away with that.”
“Cats don’t have unders.”
“Astute and yet inane observation, Eugenia.”
“You’re funny!”
Nancy smiled. “Don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. Let’s look at better picture books.”
She and Eugenia flipped through Marnie Fogg’s Boutique: a ‘60s Cultural Phenomenon, because Nancy was still thinking about the mini-dress. “The designers started creating clothes for real girls, like girls in shops and girls had moved to the big city and were trapped in dreary offices and girls dreaming about being in love when the world and their futures seemed so exciting, so full of possibilities.”
Eugenia yawned, Nancy realized how late it was. She didn’t want to leave the girl on the sofa every night.
“Where will you sleep?” she said to herself.
“I like the liddle room.”
“Little. What little room?”
“The one with the preddy clothes.”
“Pretty. You must learn to enunciate. My closet? You want to sleep in my closet?”
Eugenia yawned again.
“Please cover your mouth when you yawn. You can’t touch anything. My closet is precisely ordered and I want it to stay that way.”
Nancy folded a comforter and placed it and a pillow under the rack with her blouses and sweaters. “Do you want me to leave the light on?”
Eugenia nodded and crawled onto her make-shift bed.
Nancy covered her with a quilt and said, “Good night, Eugenia.”
“Night, Auntie Nanny.”
Nancy had a glass of Sancerre and cleaned the apartment. Then she applied online for insurance for the fundraiser. She knew the standard conditions and exclusions – of course, no one at her party would intentionally cause bodily harm or damage – so she felt comfortable submitting the policy application.
Froth business concluded, Nancy needed to attend to personal matters. She didn’t want Bailey to lose interest, but knew she had to play her hand carefully with him. She called him, and left a message saying, “Hello, Bailey. Nancy here. My schedule should be clear for Saturday. Looking forward to seeing you then.”
Nancy peered into her closet to check on Eugenia. She noticed that the girl had the same heart-shaped face that made her mother look as if she’d stepped out of a Fitzgerald story. And, like Fitzgerald’s women, Birdie was careless with others.
Nancy left the closet door open and went to bed. Another day without Todd was over and Nancy had been all right. More than all right, when she thought about being in the park today.
Nancy had heard so many people complaining about raising children that she’d expected the worst. However, Eugenia asked for little besides cereal and could be occupied by drawing pictures and watching cartoons. She also liked to hear Nancy’s fascinating lectures on style.
Todd used to just say, “Huh, huh, huh,” as if he was listening when Nancy had some dazzling point to make about upholstery or wall treatments. He’d never even asked her why she liked planning parties.
As the days passed, Derek relaxed in Eugenia’s company. He showed her how to draw simple shapes and seemed to enjoy their daily outings to lunch and to the park.
He carried a sketch pad in his black leather satchel and sometimes he’d pull it out and draw. One day he surprised Eugenia with a child-size soccer ball, which he called a football, and showed the girl and her aunt how to dribble it on the empty tennis court.
Nancy stopped waiting at the Chateau for her cousin, and they ventured out more often. She bought Eugenia two t-shirts with a pirate motif and had her hair trimmed at a salon that specialized in kids cuts.
Derek and Nancy congratulated themselves on their skill in caring for a child.
“What is the big deal?” Nancy said to Derek as they looked through photo books at a boutique on Fillmore.
Eugenia had found a pair of men’s boots and was on the floor trying to put them on over her own shoes while pale, androgynous clerks walked over and around her.
Nancy opened another book and said, “People act as if caring for children is difficult, when it’s not much more trouble than watering a plant.” She didn’t have any plants in her apartment, but if she did, she was sure they’d be glorious.
“People make things more complicated than they are,” Derek said. “Perhaps it makes them feel as if they are accomplishing something difficult.”
“As usual, you are right,” Nancy said as they moved to the sales counter. “Which of these sunglasses do you like best?” Nancy was pulling sunglasses off a display case.
“Try on this pair. I think the shape complements your face.”
Nancy tried them on, sucked in her cheeks, and posed for Derek. “I like them. Well, you know, I always say, dress plainly and accessorize wildly. Write that down.”
Derek pulled out his notepad and jotted it down.
Nancy bought the sunglasses and a deliciously hefty photography book by Patrick McMullan. While the sales clerk brushed the lint off her velvet sunglasses case, she handed the book to Derek.
“This is a present for you!”
“Oh, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers, you shouldn’t.”
“It’s nothing – and he’s a marvelous photographer. His talent is in capturing the dream of an era, how people want to be perceived.”
He opened the book and flipped through it. “This year’s model, and there will always be a new model.”
She leaned into him to look at the photographs. “It’s all so fleeting. That’s why quality is important. Quality endures.”
As they went out of the store, Nancy had a feeling that she was missing something. But she remembered the clerk handing her the receipt and her credit card. She and Derek were about to cross the street, when they both said, “Eugenia!”
They hurried back into the store, splitting up to circle the aisles. Nancy’s heart raced and she called, “Eugenia! Eugenia!”
The girl was sitting under a rack of flirty spring dresses. “Hi, Auntie Nanny!”
“Eugenia! What are you doing there? It’s very, very naughty of you to wander away from us.”
“It’s my house,” said the child. “See, with clothes and shoes like the liddle room where I sleep.”
Derek had come to her side. “The little room?”
“She’s been sleeping in my closet,” Nancy explained.
A prissy young mother pushing a huge pram overheard. She gave Nancy a look that would sour the milk that she’d be breast-feeding her slobbery baby soon.
“She wants to sleep in the closet,” Nancy said loudly. “I have an amazing and beautiful closet!” Nancy took Eugenia by the hand and said, “Honestly! Some people.”
But Nancy felt a vague discomfort afterward, almost as if she’d done something as wrong as having visible panty lines. When Eugenia wanted stay longer at the park, Nancy didn’t tell her as she usually did that it was a work day, and when a nasty little dog snapped at the girl, Nancy said sternly to the owner, “All dogs are required by law to be on leash on this terrace! Either follow regulations, or stay out of the park.”
That night, while Eugenia was busy watching “The Little Mermaid,” Nancy called Sloane to make sure that she would be available to work at the Barbary Coast fundraiser.
“Last Saturday in May, right?” Sloane said. “When my mother was alive, she was on the board and now I’ll finally be able to go. How many bodies do you need?”
Nancy had forgotten that Sloane’s mother passed away young. Perhaps that was why Sloane was so fanatical about mothering. “We need people to cover the check-in table, special guests, swag, talent, crew and caterers. I think we need at least eight besides us,” Nancy said. “So, Sloane, how are your children?”
While Sloane talked about her boys in excruciating detail, Nancy organized the contents of her refrigerator. There were some new additions: yogurt, fruit, cheese, juice, cooked chicken breasts, and whole grain salads. The cupboards held graham crackers, dried fruit, and boxes of organic macaroni and cheese.
