•••
It’s 1:27 p.m. on Thursday and our admissions check-in is coming to a close. True to Nan form, she throws me a curveball.
NAN (SWEETENING HER TONE AS I’M ABOUT TO EXIT OUR ADMISSIONS CONVERSATION):Oh, one more thing, Josie, I’m thinking of throwing a fiftieth anniversary party for your aunt Viv in late February or early March-ish. She is the longest standing employee Fairchild School has ever had since founding Head ofSchool Balthazar Fairchild, so I think we should celebrate her tenure. I want it to be a party like Fairchild never experienced under Dr. Pearson. Of course, I will need Viv to do the food, but everything else Elsamyassistant can take care of.
ME (BEING THE AUNT VIV EXPERT IN THE ROOM AND KNOWING SHE WILL HATE THIS IDEA):Well, Nan, that’s a very kind offer, but Aunt Viv is not one for a big fuss. I’m not sure a massive party is how she’ll want to celebrate being at Fairchild for fifty years. What about dedicating the cafeteria to her with a lovely plaque and maybe a gift certificate to her favorite Cajun restaurant?
NAN (WANTING TO PROVE ONCE AGAIN SHE KNOWS BETTER THAN ME, EVEN ON THE SUBJECT OF AUNT VIV):Nonsense. Of course Viv will love a party. I will deliver a speech that honors her well.
ME (TESTING THE LIMITS OF MY PATIENCE):I know you would, but given her recent heart attack and need to take it easy, I’m not sure making food for hundreds of people for her own party is a great idea. I want her to have a good couple of months to recover without added stress.
NAN (DISMISSING MY RESPONSE WITH A WAVE):It will just be heavy apps, which we both know Viv can whip up with her eyes closed.
ME (GRASPING AT STRAWS):That’s true, but you always talk about how important it is for faculty and staff to take care of their health so they can perform to the best of their ability at school.
NAN (IGNORING ME):We will invite alumni families, faculty, and staff from the past fifty years as well as the current community. And perhaps my four top choice families for the incoming year. I’m thinking black tie—you know, do it up right, make it extravagant—there hasn’t been a formal party in the grand entry of the school since Dr. Pearson left. Yes, yes, the more I think about it the more the community will love a good excuse to getdressed up. I think you will be surprised by how much Viv will enjoy herself and appreciate the gesture. Trust me, Josie, I’m certain I know best on this one.
ME (KNOWING AUNT VIV WILL SHOOT THE MESSENGER WHEN SHE FINDS OUT ABOUT THE PARTY. I PUT THE TARGET ON NAN’S BACK):Well, it’s such a generous offer, and since it’s your great idea, I think you should be the one to tell Aunt Viv. She’ll love to hear the news directly from you, and don’t leave out a single exciting detail. Particularly the part about it being black tie.
NAN (QUITE PROUD OF HERSELF):You’re right, she should hear it from me, her head of school. It will mean so much more coming from me. I’ll send her an e-mail.
ME (NOW ENJOYING THE ONCOMING DISASTER A LITTLE TOO MUCH):Nan, I think Aunt Viv will want to hear news this exciting in person.
NAN (SHAKING HER HEAD IN CONTEMPLATION, A BIT TENTATIVE NOW):Okay, I’ll head over to the cafeteria right now. Ummm, Josie...
ME (OFFICIALLY DONE WITH THE CONVERSATION AND IT’S 1:30 ON THE DOT):Yes.
NAN (SLIGHTLY SHEEPISH, BUT TRYING NOT TO SHOW IT SO HER DOMINANCE ISN’T DIMINISHED):Where’s the kitchen office?
TWELVE
The picture windows of my office are bordered with colored Victorian lead glass. Intricate cutouts frame the thick swirling fog outside, which blocks any distractions that might normally keep me from focusing on my work. Oh goody a text.
TY
Aunt Viv promised me her special apple crumble coffee cake at our parent interview with you next week. BTW I know you call me Golden Boy.
9:52 A.M.
I knew I shouldn’t have let Aunt Viv go to her post–heart attack checkup on her own. I thought she was going to see her primary care doctor, but apparently the rendezvous was with Dr. Golden. She came home flushed like a teen in lust and began scurrying around the kitchen singing the praises of her Golden doctor and explaining that a man that charming could only be from the South. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the application says he’s from Omaha.
JOSIE
I didn’t realize she was your aunt, too. And the coffee cake, I’m thinking that’s a recruiting tactic and in this admissions office we play by the rules. I can’t speak to Aunt Viv’s unethical behavior.
10:02 A.M.
TY
I saved her life, thus the moniker of affection for Aunt Viv. What have you done other than share a bit of DNA?
10:05 A.M.
JOSIE
I ruined her prime adult years by showing up on her doorstep at age 4 needing a mother. Then I showed up again on her doorstep during her golden years needing help raising my daughter. You get to call someone your aunt when you single-handedly ruin her life not once, but twice.
10:11 A.M.
