the alternate arrangement

A young couple is deep in earnest conference over the delicate politics of extracting themselves from a nanny-share, apparently in favor of a Mandarin-speaker. It’s complicated but, “One thing’s for sure,” the father says, “the absolute worst-case scenario is that Nicole tells Richard she perceives that Mary deliberately misled Bill and Nancy about Suzanne.” “Right,” his wife says. “So right.”

“Given that,” he continues, “how are you feeling? Are you feeling pro-au pair right now or anti au-pair?”

“I’m feeling like … ” She rubs one temple. “I’m feeling like, if Logan’s in preschool even until, like 11 a.m. … and we wouldn’t have to get him dressed? I mean, we’d of course make breakfast. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He readjusts his messenger bag. He’s in a decent suit but still sporting Chrome. “Like, yesterday, for example. I got back from my run and they were both still in pajamas, and Asher is just, like, throwing Cheerios, and Logan’s on the floor? And then when I came back it was just, like, the exact same thing? I mean, a different iteration but the same thing?”

“I know,” she says, “but—”

I can’t tune them out and I can’t find my headphones. Nothing can save me from listening to this conversation for three more stops, at least.

But I can save myself from ever having it. I catch my reflection smiling in the window.