The Nanman

The Nanman - Chapter 4

4.

Morning hurt. After all the energy he had expended biking and drinking, Dez expected a solid night's sleep, but what he got was hours of the ceiling, his peripheral vision haunted by tacky ornaments that reminded him of sleeping in his grandparents' guestroom. His memory of the night ended after the living room clock struck two.

A voice spoke to him from his bedside. Eventually, a hand shook him, and he cracked an eye to see Cecile leaning over him with an amused smile on her face. She smelled of a flower, sweet and faintly alluring. He noticed her hair was wet, and she was wearing a bath robe, but her make-up had already been artfully applied.

“Wake up, Dez. The children need breakfast, Natty needs a snack, and I need to introduce you.” Her voice sounded a little nervous at those last words. She hastily glanced down the bed and then back at his face. “I think you need to get an alarm clock today.”

He opened his other eye to watch her exit. In the night, he had twisted out of his blankets and sent them to the floor. His only covers, a thread-bare pair of boxers, stood at attention.

“Shit!” He rolled from the bed to his feet. He slid his pants on and headed for the bathroom. He was relieved to see the kids were not yet awake. He heard Cecile in the bathroom above him humming merrily. He was glad she was amused. He cursed not having his toothbrush and for a diabolical moment contemplated using one of the children's. That would just be wrong. He worked some toothpaste around with his finger trying to break the stale alcohol taste in his mouth. He looked at the sleep deprived thirty-something in the mirror with some apprehension. A universal parental weariness accentuated with intricate lines and dark bags still clung to him, tempered by the youthful spirit in his eyes and the obvious smile lines on his face.

“Today is going to be rough,” the face whispered to him, “but you are going to make it through, because you are an amazing guy and a serious muther--”

“Ah!” A voice squeaked and little pounding feet ran across the living room. “Natty! Natty! There's someone in our bathroom.” The kids' room door slammed shut, and there were muffled sounds of the door being blocked.

Dez sighed. He stopped in his room to get his shirt and then knocked on the kids' door. “Hello in there! Don't shoot. I'm only the new Nanny. My name is Dez.”

“Dez isn't a name,” shot back a snotty voice.

“It’s a type of name; it's a nickname for Desmond.”

“Where is our mother?” the voice demanded.

“She is upstairs changing for work.”

“We are not coming out until we speak to her.”

“Okay, but I'm going into the kitchen to make some breakfast. I promise not to attack.”

Silence.

“If you kids weren't barred behind that door and wanted breakfast, what would you eat?” Dez heard whispering. “You first Gregory, what are you having?”

“He always has toast. Wait, how do you know his name?”

“It could be because I'm the new nanny.”

“You're a boy, you can't be a nanny,” said Gregory.

“That's right, I'm a boy; no one is going to tell me I can't be a nanny.”

“That's weird,” said Natty.

“And this is my life,” Dez whispered to himself. “So, what are you having Natty?”

She hesitated. “I like Sugar Frosted Mini-Wheats.”

“Yeah, who doesn't, but are they good for you?”