Barbarians at the PTA

by Stephanie Newman

  I leaned into my chair, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. Lee started pouring coffee from a polished silver service.

  “We must be going. Please excuse us.” Jim stood up and nodded for me to follow.

  Before I could speak, he’d moved around the table, putting a hand on my back and steering me toward the hallway leading to the front door.

  Lee sprinted behind. “Lovely to have you,” she said as a butler handed us our coats. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, Victoria.”

  “Everything was delicious, Lee. It’s always a pleasure.” Jim said, bending down for a hug.

  Seventeen

  Into the Dark

  As the valet shut the car door and the interior lights went dark, I noticed Jim’s knuckles. They were white from gripping the wheel.

  We rode in silence. I knew my failure to confide about Colin had really hurt him. The tension and guilt were tearing me up inside.

  We were now in his building, standing on opposite ends of the otherwise empty elevator car. “I should have told you. I was waiting for the right time. I’m really sorry.”

  Jim was quiet until we got into the apartment. After turning on the lights and tossing his coat onto a nearby chair, he stood in the foyer and crossed his arms.

  I was about to tell him about my former fiancé’s cheating, but he cut me off. “A wedding last spring? That’s kind of a big omission, isn’t it, Victoria?”

  I nodded. “I don’t know what Lee told you but—”

  “The issue is what you didn’t tell me.” I hadn’t seen this before, Jim’s angry side.

  “Lee warned me about you. I just didn’t want to listen.” He shifted his posture and glared. I felt as though I’d been slapped; the conversation had devolved so quickly. All I could think was that Lee was at it again, making life impossible for me, as she had for Rachel. As tears of frustration pooled in the corners of my eyes, I struggled to maintain my composure. It felt important for me to hold it together so I looked credible.

  “Jim, listen. Please!” I breathed in. “Lee doesn’t know anything about me. Please let me explain.”

  His posture was stiff. “I heard you accused Lee of laughing at Rachel, picking on her.”

  I wiped my tears. She’d spun things in the worst possible way. “She’s going out of her way to make Rachel’s life miserable, and she’s dangerous. I’m just trying to protect my child.”

  Jim was shaking his head and closing his eyes, fighting for control. “What do you mean ‘dangerous,’ Victoria?”

  “She’s been trying to hurt Rachel. I know it.”

  “Hurt her how; what do you know? You’re losing me.”

  “She’s out to get us.”

  Jim furrowed his brow. “That’s a big accusation. It sounds . . . it’s not like you. Where is this even coming from?”

  “I can’t tell you. But I know she’s out for blood.”

  “How do you know this?” I couldn’t repeat what Maureen said. “There’s a chat room,” I said. My words sounded odd, even to my ears.

  Jim looked skeptical. “Lee revealed a plot in a chat room?”

  “It was anonymous, but I know it was her.”

  He was staring at me, a strange look in his eyes. “Let’s sit down,” he said in a careful tone that made me defensive. “Are you okay?”

  We were now on the sofa an arm’s distance apart. I crossed my arms and leaned back onto the cushions. “I’m a psychologist. Don’t you think I’d know if I weren’t?”

  He rubbed his temples and shook his head. “Listen, I’m worried. This sounds . . . unusual, Victoria. You can’t just accuse people of going after you based on postings in anonymous chat rooms.”

  “She grilled Rachel and kicked her out of a carpool, then baited me on a school trip, and along with her kid, planned events that excluded mine. Those are the things I can tell you.”

  Jim’s face darkened. “What is it you aren’t sharing?”

  I thought of Maureen’s story about Lee, the accusation that she’d gone after an enemy and been accused of driving a kid to suicidal thoughts and dangerous behaviors. My voice was a whisper. I was close to tears. “I’m sorry. I can’t say.”

  Jim shook his head. Now I was angry too; he was judging me, making no attempt to see things from my point of view.

  “Rachel and I haven’t had the easiest time of it. A woman live-tweeted during my wedding ceremony late last spring. She posted a sex video on YouTube, starring her and my ex, and all sorts of other stuff on various social platforms just in time to steamroll the vows. My friend, Julie, pulled me aside during the Justice’s remarks and showed me, and I called the whole thing off. You can ask her.”

  Jim’s eyes were sympathetic. “I had no idea. That’s a terrible story . . . on many levels.” He reached for my hand. Neither one of us said anything for a few moments.

  “About the wedding and cheating, that’s really low. You deserve better. But what does it have to do with Lee? She’s no angel. And I can see her asking Rachel questions and letting Collette exclude other girls. But why these suspicions, the idea that Lee’s planning to harm you?”

  I wished I could tell him what Maureen had said, but patient confidentiality was sacred. “I can’t prove it yet, but it’s all true. She’s behind Rachel’s social difficulties and I have reason to believe she’ll go after me.”

  Jim shook his head.

  “Can’t you see that she intentionally caused trouble tonight by dropping a bomb, creating tension between us? Plus—and I can’t reveal specifics—she takes revenge on people. I’m worried that something really bad could happen!”

  Jim put up a hand, slowing me down. “I know you’re the psychologist, but you sound, I don’t know the exact word, ‘fixated’ or something. Instead of accusing Lee, why don’t you look at yourself for a minute? You didn’t tell me about the wedding thing, or the fact that the guy showed up recently at Rachel’s game, and you keep your guard up, with me too. You haven’t been fully honest.”

  There it was. He was taking Lee’s side, overlooking how I’d told him personal things about my family and Rachel’s struggles.

  “So I’m just suspicious and guarded? It’s all me? How come it doesn’t matter that she’s gone after my kid and made comments to provoke me? You still don’t have enough faith in me to trust that the reasons for my fears might be valid?”

  There was an unpleasant charge in the air as we regarded each other from opposite sides of the sofa.

  “Putting your theory about Lee to the side for a minute, I want to have faith and take you at your word, and guess I could have asked directly about your romantic past. But imagine how I felt, hearing her ask in front of everyone about the man that attended Rachel’s game, and even worse, saying that you two were engaged last spring!” He gave me a wounded look. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

  “No!” He showed up uninvited to the game, and I made it clear—as I had several times in the past—that I had no interest in further contact.”

  Seeing the sadness in Jim’s eyes, I was disgusted by Lee’s modus operandi, stirring the pot to advance her own power and revenge agenda, even if it meant hurting her friends in the process. “Jim, this woman is like a powerful cyclone, destroying innocents in her path. I can’t believe she’d treat you like this. And I’m sorry I hurt you by waiting too long to mention the scene at the altar.” I reached for his hand. “I should have told you.” He didn’t budge.

  I was flooded once again with the all too familiar fear that another loss was imminent. My panic rose and I kept talking, sounding angry and a bit cagier than I would have liked, “But it isn’t fair to lay this all on me, you know.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well you’ve been guarded too,” I said through tears.

  “I told you all that stuff about my ex, Victoria, even though it was embarrassing. But you haven’t even said who Rachel’s dad was. And now I find out there’s this other person you were se
rious about. You haven’t been forthcoming, and that makes me uncomfortable.”

  I tried again to explain. “I’m sorry you feel that way. There’s no big mystery. I tried to open up to you. I don’t usually talk about my parents or give details about Rachel’s social problems. As for her father, it’s not a secret. I used a sperm donor.”

  Jim flinched a little. “I didn’t know.” He adjusted his position on the sofa. “I want to trust you.”

  I felt my body stiffen. “You keep saying that. What do you mean?”

  “Even if you have shared some things with me, whenever the subject of Lee comes up you sound overly suspicious, and that’s concerning.”

  It was unfair that she came off as the sympathetic one, while I was the bad guy.

  I was frustrated and drained from the stress of having to rein in feelings, even after Lee had stabbed me in the back, and felt my composure slipping and voice rising. “She’s evil, okay? She whispered threats in my ear by the museum dioramas, and went door-to-door with party invitations, but told everyone she didn’t have our address, and got Rachel alone so she could grill her about her biological father. Who does that?”

  Jim was staring like I was a toddler who’d dropped her ice cream and began convulsing with sobs. He raised his palms and pushed them slightly toward me, in a motion that said: go slow, calm down. His eyes were sad, but distant. His look told me he pitied me for seeing the world through a warped lens.

  “Victoria, you sound . . .” he chose his words carefully, “like you’ve lost perspective.”

  So, that’s how it was?

  He patted my hand. I hated the way he was sitting a foot away from me, offering stiff comfort, like I was an elderly aunt. My heart wrenched with sadness and fear. With no romance or intimacy in his touch, this was the beginning of the end.

  “Stop patting me. I know what I know.”

  “Have you spoken with Julie? You’ve been under stress between Rachel and the move. Is there someone you could call?”

  Now he wanted to pawn me off on a friend. Well, Lee was the problem, not me. My mental health was intact, even if Jim couldn’t see that.

  I chose my words carefully, “Don’t worry. I’m fine.” I stood up and he followed. “I’m going to go now,” I said.

  Jim was silent, willing to let me leave, and that hurt. “I didn’t choose this, you know,” I told him. “I’ve always been alone, and managed to run my practice and raise my child. Given the nature of my job, there are sometimes things I’m privy to.” I could see him calculating. “My theory isn’t frivolous or imagined, no matter how it appears to you.”

  He appeared to be thinking about how to respond. As I watched him, thinking it through and sighing, I saw again that despite the times we’d shared, the romance and friendship, there’d been a shift. Something had changed when my suspicions about Lee were mentioned—he’d chosen the DeVrys over me.

  I got up and stepped into the foyer of his apartment. Standing there, sensing that we had no future, my anxiety and anger rose, until I was almost suffocating. Though it had been hard for me to get close, I’d opened up and hadn’t pushed when he’d played things close to the vest. Yet, despite several apologies and clarifications, Jim still didn’t believe me.

  I felt like running off, but it was difficult to walk away. “I have tried opening up to you, so it would be so nice if you could just—”

  “Just what? I know you have a child and you put her first, and I understand that. You’re a good mother. But there are also two of us here.” He stopped talking again and stiffened.

  “And?” I said.

  “And no matter how hard I try, you’re still holding back and mistrustful. That’s part of the problem.”

  There it was again. Despite all the things I’d said, he still saw my caution and fear of Lee as suspiciousness. “I guess it’s good we’re finding all this out now.” I stepped toward the door.

  “Victoria . . . .”

  “What? I don’t get this at all! I tried to talk to you, but you haven’t acknowledged that maybe you’re part of the difficulty here, siding with Lee, taking her version of events as the gospel. It’s like you’re under her spell or something.”

  Jim’s expression hardened. “As I said, I told you about my ex. And right now we’re talking about you—this thing with Lee, your suspicions about her targeting Rachel. She’s a grown woman with a busy, fulfilling life. Why would she bother picking a fight with a fifth grader? It doesn’t make sense. Not to mention the fact that she and Jack are my bosses, in essence. So, sorry to have to say this, but I think we should take a break.”

  I’d known that was coming, but the words still hit hard, like a punch to the gut. I fought off the tears that had started to flow.

  “I really didn’t expect this.” I was really angry now. “I went out on a limb introducing you to Rachel. You have no idea what a big step that was, how difficult. And yet you discount it because you believe I’m making things up about Lee!!” I shook my head. “Maybe you should look in the mirror once in a while. It’s not just me that’s created distance, you know. Goodbye.” I left the apartment and sprinted down the hall.

  I walked at a brisk clip, fighting off tears, until I made it back to the car. And then the floodgates opened. “Don’t think about this now,” I told myself. “You tried to explain and he couldn’t hear it, accusing you of being overly suspicious. You’ve got no time for this guy and his sanctimonious attitude—and no room for pressure. Just drive.”

  And drive I did.

  As I steered, Jim’s words echoed in my brain: “I think we should take a break . . . .”

  There was a lot of traffic and the drive took longer than usual. I cried the entire time, sobbing so hard I could barely see the road. I finally pulled into a gas station and called Julie.

  “All relationships have their ups and downs. I love you, Vic. But I think you should call him and ask if you could talk again, try to work things out.” Julie’s advice was good. I’d think about it, even if she didn’t know the pressure I was under. She had it all: stability, perspective, and a glass of Chardonnay in hand.

  “Even if you’re right, maybe the breakup is for the best,” I said. “What kind of future do we have, Jules? What if he wants children? I’m probably too old. And if that happens, a half-sibling might upend Rachel’s life. There are too many unknowns. What if Rachel doesn’t want him around or he freaks out and runs away from the relationship?”

  Julie signed loudly. “The only one who is freaking out is you.”

  A half an hour later, I was home. After I’d pulled into the driveway, I texted a heart emoji to Rachel and wished her good night, before going inside, having a giant glass of wine, and falling into bed.

  Looking back, I could have handled things better, been less insistent about Lee. But that night, as I hugged my pillow, prostrate with grief, all I could think of was that my fear had been borne out: relying on other people was too risky a proposition, Jim included. So I pulled the covers over my head and did the usual when it came to loss. I shoved my feelings into that particular compartment of my brain, locked the door, and threw away the key.

  Eighteen

  The Arms Race

  Gutted after the breakup, and unable to shake Rachel’s social difficulties, I gave myself a couple of days to hang around the house, even letting Alva do drop-off. When my bathrobe began to take on aspects of my shape as though made from memory foam, I knew it was time to change my approach.

  Licking my wounds, I went back and forth, considering the same dead-end options, from selling our place and moving somewhere else to homeschooling. But none of them were viable. Besides, it was possible it wasn’t any better anywhere else. I’d have to make this community work.

  I noticed an email in my inbox, sent by Lee in her role as PTA president, and felt an immediate surge of embarrassment. She’d broken Jim and I up after I’d made a fool of myself by accusing her of targeting Rachel. At least I knew Jim wouldn’t repeat
any of that; otherwise I’d never be able to show my face in public again.

  The email made mention of several upcoming school events: a karaoke night, fifth grade Colonial Fair, Spring Fling, and school-wide assembly on internet dangers. I noticed that Lee was in charge of not one, but all of the events on the PTA calendar. All roads led to her.

  Even though I was riddled with sadness and anxiety, being called “fixated” and overly suspicious was a mischaracterization. No matter what Jim thought, Lee had hurt my daughter and was responsible for the break Jim had requested. Now more than ever I needed to figure out my next move.

  Mayfair fell into a long cold spell, one day blurring into the next. I was sitting in my kitchen about to leave for work when Sharon pinged, reminding me I’d agreed to go with her to the upcoming PTA-sponsored karaoke night.

  Having barely survived the past few weeks, I was in no mood for more of the school scene. “Not singing!” I wrote in response.

  “Ha ha. You promised and I bought tickets. Pick me up at 7:00 so we can go together.” She signed off and I went into the dining room to get the bag with my paperwork and planner. Rachel’s group assignment was left behind on the table, an in-school science project she’d worked on with Collette and Maya. She was supposed to turn it in to their teacher. The thing was due today.

  There was the “let her fail” school of parenting. If I stepped up and rescued her every time, she’d never be able to keep all her academic and extracurricular balls in the air. But after what she’d endured over the past couple of months, from Lexi and Collette ousting Francesca to being excluded from parties, I knew that all it took was one glance from a blond, bangle-wearing little diva, or a well-placed PTA mom, and you were out.

  I’d bring the report to school, and we’d work on organization at some future point. For now, it was all about the social stuff.

  I drove over and parked in the school lot. A door at the back, the section near the music room and gym, was propped open. Cutting through would be easier than walking all the way to the front. I peeked in—the place was a mess: cartons everywhere and chairs stacked six feet into the air. I almost banged heads with the aide who was stationed inside, standing guard, for safety reasons.