“Hi,” I said to her. “Can I come through?”
“I think that would be okay. As long as you go up front and sign in at the office.”
I nodded. “What’s going on?”
“They’re replacing the old gym floor. Don’t slip. There are piles everywhere. A couple of moms are down the hall, packing up some of the sports equipment so the guys can send it to storage.” Her walkie-talkie beeped. “U-haul is here. Excuse me.” She went outside, pulling the door shut behind her.
I’d started to make my way down the hall, when I spotted two women several yards ahead, sitting with their backs to me, loading boxes. One was partially hidden by cartons. I recognized her as a mom who favored sunglasses and tennis whites, and seemed to be at the sidelines of every one of Rachel’s games. I didn’t remember her name, but recalled she always looked glamorous, even in the stands on Saturday mornings. I stepped quickly, eager to get the report to the office.
The taller woman pushed her glasses back on her head as she kneeled down to tape the carton she was packing. She was slender and sinewy. Obviously she had a lot of time and money, and made an effort to exercise often. Bodies like hers signaled resources. Now the other woman was speaking, asking to borrow the tape. I heard a drawl and caught a glimpse of blond hair, and my heart skipped: it was Lee. She was the last person I wanted to see.
I tiptoed back to the door and noticed the sign: EMERGENCY ONLY. ALARM WILL SOUND. I’d walk by them swiftly and depart with a quick wave.
I headed back down the same hallway again, toward the area where they were working, and inched toward the women. Their conversation made me freeze on the spot.
Lee was speaking: “Those social climbers moved in and just started bothering our family. That mother, I think she’s a lawyah in the city or something. Her hair is all over the place, a big ol’ mess. And she wears these boring shapeless suits, and tops them off with matching accessories—ridiculous; it’s not 1990 anymore.”
She was talking about my patient, Amy.
“From the time she moved in, she just wouldn’t let it go, asking mah friend Maureen for plans, inserting herself. And her daughter, well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Her kid went after Collette’s best friends, Lexi and Hannah.”
Social engineering was Lee’s specialty. I could predict where this was going. Lee went on: “Those awful people will stop at nothing. Collette had been looking forward all week to a sleepover with Hannah, but that awful Lucy just stole it right out from under her.”
“What did you do?” A voice asked.
“Well, it just so happened that the next weekend was Jack’s fiftieth, and he wanted to go to our place in Florida, lounge on the boat. We thought, why not invite Hannah’s parents, Maureen and Bob? It was adorable; the girls posting their every move on Instachat: bikinis, palm tree, hugging in the pool. I guess Lucy’s sleepover with Hannah just got canceled.”
Lee’s friend laughed.
“And then that awful Lucy’s mother invited Hannah to go with her wallflower of a kid to Radio City to see the Rockettes and go ice-skating.
“Was Collette upset?” the disembodied voice wanted to know.
“Absolutely crushed. So I told her she could have a wonderful sleepover party. We spent all day the following Saturday getting decorations and picking a theme. That lawyah was calling and emailing everyone for playdates. She looked so desperate. So finally I sent her an email. I said, ‘Look here: Hannah and Lexi are mah daughter’s friends.’”
“Good for you.”
I stood silently, digesting it all, when Lee started in on me. “Oh and you know who turned out to be the biggest phony of all? The psychologist. I tried to be nice, seeing as she has no husband and she’s kind of mousey and all.”
Mousey? I wasn’t a Ford model, but mousey I was not.
She went on, “I actually felt sorry for her, having to work fulltime to support her daughter, alone in that big old house, until she started draping herself on our friend Jim like a cheap suit.”
Bitch!
“From the minute they moved in, she was just awful. She tried to discipline my child in the hallway, telling her not to bother some girl. And get this—ah tried to be nice at dinner and warn her about the social scene in town, and she lectured me about all people having value. It was hard to take. She thought she was too good for mah friends, she and her PhD.”
I was strangely relieved to hear that Lee had it in for me, and I hadn’t misread the situation.
She was still speaking. “And as far as that house, well, she took me around. The place was a disaster: leaks and patches, everything in a state of disrepair. Ah wouldn’t let a feral cat live there. I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling, with her ‘elegant mansion on a hill,’ but she’s a nobody, living like that. Not my kind of person. Let’s just leave it at that.”
I heard Lee shifting in her chair, sharpening her fangs: “Oh, and I warned all the other women about her house—so unsafe—told them not to let their little darlin’s go over there. They should avoid these people at all costs.”
My chest muscles seized.
“What about the kid?” her friend asked.
“Oh. Collette took pity on her, and tried to do a makeover, but there was no helping that child. Like ah said, the two of them were just awful. Ah had to get rid of them.”
I couldn’t hear the other woman’s response because my heart was pounding so loudly in my ears. Just as I’d thought, she’d blackballed us, like we were pledges in her college sorority.
It was time to get even. My only question was how.
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this much anger. I wanted out of there . . . and bad. Suddenly the back door opened again. The aide had returned. I raced out and around front to the office, handing the secretary the report.
Lee’s version of events confirmed exactly what I’d suspected about Rachel’s abrupt shift in fortune. That horrible woman had used the fifth grade girls as pawns, galvanizing their moms to join in her secret revenge scheme. Even if she hated me, I couldn’t believe she’d bully my child—and other moms would follow so blindly.
Now I knew for sure what kind of people I’d been up against. This was how Sisyphus must have felt, pushing that boulder up hill, only to have it roll farther back down each and every time.
I vowed to make Lee suffer like Rachel and I had. And then I thought of the photos. I was definitely using them. I’d have to figure out when.
I called Julie, placing the cell phone on speaker, deciding not to mention my revenge scheme. “Hey. It’s me, in the car. Can you talk? I won’t bore you with the latest developments here in Stepford.”
“What happened now?”
“I’ll cut to the chase. Lee, the ringleader, thought I insulted her daughter when I told the kid to ‘be nice’ to another girl. Plus, she didn’t like a comment I made about ‘finding something interesting in everyone.’ She thought it was psychobabble, and because of her dislike for me, went around, campaigning, urging others not to spend time with us. That’s why Rachel was shut out.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. “Get out of here. Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s been a long time coming, and now I’m really done with letting them push me around and watching them hurt Rachel.” Julie cheered me on as I changed gears. “Now I have a question for you about Jim.”
Julie waited as I chose my words. “I seem to embody some pop culture phenomenon, the type of thing Dr. Oz would have a show about: professional women who fear abandonment.” Under my joke was a well of sadness. I felt the tears start to fall. “Seriously, what’s wrong with me?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Your parents’ death caused a deep wound. You’re still reeling and terrified of getting close, and the possibility of another loss terrifies you, so you pushed him away.”
As I was thinking, she spoke again. “Have you heard from him?”
“Not since we broke up.”
&nb
sp; “You could call him, apologize.”
“Maybe. He might not want to hear from me.” I decided to bring the conversation around to Julie. “What’s going on there?”
She described the latest melee between her daughters, and we laughed for a few seconds before hanging up. I knew Julie’s take on the Jim situation was correct. I had been too caught up in suspicions about Lee, and now it was probably too late to fix it. I could call him, but didn’t have the energy. I needed all my resources to deal with Lee.
Nineteen
One For the Team
The mom chat room was busy with lots of talk about the upcoming holidays, getting kids through the winter, and dealing with cabin fever. I read different threads, but nothing caught my eye, and no Cheerleader, aka Lee. Maybe I could get something going, entice her.
It was even easier than it looked. Minutes later I’d made an anonymous account and started a thread: “Party Lists: how many is too many?” That was right up Lee’s alley. I’d been chatting with a woman from the Midwest about her fourth grader’s ice-skating party. A few people chimed in, voting for a large gathering where no one was excluded, especially in elementary school, and I decided to sign off.
If not today, next time. Being blackballed had reinvigorated me, and I was now all in, and swinging. I hated Lee. If there was a way to take her out while modeling decency and kindness for Rachel in other areas of my life, I was going to find it. I had the photos in my arsenal and would continue to gather intel until I figured out exactly what to do to get even with Lee for bullying Rachel and coming between me and Jim.
Which reminded me, I’d been putting off talking to Rachel about that. It was time. First, I’d have to sort out my feelings. And there were so many.
I hadn’t fully grieved when my parents had died. After the car accident, Aunt Pearl and I had checked out a library book about orphans. I’d devoured it, and watched “Annie” a thousand times, becoming terrified about how alone I really was. At the time, I’d said goodbye and focused on moving forward. But burying feelings made it hard for me to get close to others and brought a whole new set of problems.
Compartmentalizing clearly hadn’t worked when I was a teen, and it did not provide all the answers with the man I’d loved—that I now knew for sure. For the first time in my adult life, I’d make it a priority to process my grief.
I made myself remember everything about Jim from his blue eyes, strong jaw, and the way his arms engulfed me when we had sex, to all the laughter. There were tears sliding down my cheeks as I sobbed. I’d lost him for good.
Other losses ached in unison: our last apartment, the dining alcove where I’d nursed my daughter, memories of her with her BFFs, Zoe and Savannah, playing softball and hanging out at the science club. And Aunt Pearl. I missed her every day. She’d clapped and cheered at my college graduation, presenting me with an envelope from the bursar’s office, a receipt signifying my tuition had been paid. She’d adored Rachel, insisting our girl would be the first woman elected president.
The hurt was there when I thought of my parents too. It was just a duller, broader version. I’d never gotten to find out about their childhoods, hear how they fell in love, or ask for advice.
People always seemed to go to their mothers in times of need. I’d learned to lean on my friends. Birthdays were particularly hard; I forced myself to ignore the sad and empty feelings. But no more. I allowed my mind to process the losses even further. My parents would never hear Rachel giggle, or know I’d gotten a PhD. The tears fell until my head hurt and I couldn’t think anymore.
Rachel finally texted. She was almost home from the library. Maya’s mom was dropping them off.
I went downstairs and opened the door. “Hey, honey. How are you?”
“Good.” She put her backpack down in the hallway and turned around to look at me.
“Lots of homework?” I asked.
“Some. We also hung out.”
“I still want to have Maya and her mom over. Is that okay?”
“Maybe. I’ll see.” She raced up to her room. At least she seemed happier.
Later in the day, I was in the living room plodding through my billing, anything to distract myself. I wasn’t used to the heaviness that had settled in my chest, the shadows playing in the corners of my mind. Rachel came into the room. “Mom?” She waited until she had my full attention. “Everyone plays soccer, fall and spring. I’m done with softball and I’m switching this coming season.”
After being in my head for so many hours, it wasn’t easy shifting gears from my parade of losses to my child’s real-world concerns. Rachel was folding her arms and stuck her chin out. “Can you please find out what the other girls are doing to get ready for the soccer season?”
I sighed. “It’s probably better if you ask them, Rach.”
She shook her head. “They might not tell me.”
Then why would you want to be with people like that? Preteens were mystifying. Though I did understand that she didn’t want to be the only one who hadn’t adequately trained. “I’ll do my best to find out, but you should try to ask around.”
“No! I want you to do it for me.”
As she dug her heels in, I found myself thinking again of Jim, how I’d taken a stand and blown it, and still hadn’t told Rachel. She’d asked if he was coming over again and I’d said something innocuous like “not sure,” and changed the subject.
I made a mental note to reach out about preseason soccer and be sure to discuss the Jim breakup with Rachel.
The following afternoon I was at pick-up and overheard a couple of fifth grade moms discussing a carpool. “Hey,” one said, looking cornered, as she brushed past. “You were on that email, right? See you at soccer.”
When Rachel appeared, we started walking to the car and I told her there were probably clinics we didn’t know about. She texted Maya, and they decided to check with Collette.
We were now belted in and driving. “So, hon.” she didn’t look up from her phone. “Well, I’ll just say it. Although there were a lot of nice things about Jim and he’s a decent guy, it didn’t work out between us.” I exhaled and quickly brushed a tear from my eye.
She looked off to the side, thinking about how to respond. “I’m sorry because I know you liked him and he seemed nice. What happened? Was he like Colin?”
I shook my head, worried my worst fears were realized, and that she’d gotten used to having him around and would now be scarred. “He was nice. But we had a disagreement and couldn’t settle it,” I told her.
I wiped my eyes as my daughter responded, “Remember how you told me to be friends with Maya, even when I wasn’t sure? Well, maybe you should take your own advice and work it out. People deserve a second chance.”
I felt a surge of pride. Rachel was compassionate and valued people—not like some of the kids I’d seen around. “I’ll think about it,” I said as we drove up the hill to the house. At this point, I doubted whether Jim would even take my calls.
A couple of days later, she showed me an entry on her phone’s notepad app. She and Maya had approached Lee during pick-up and asked about soccer. Lee had spelled the practice turf’s name and dictated the time and day slowly, waiting until each girl had typed in and saved all the info. She’d made them read it back just to be sure. The note said everyone was practicing on Tuesday evenings at seven o’clock.
“Mom, are you listening?” I hadn’t been. Hearing Lee’s name brought me right back to the dinner party, the night she’d caused my fatal argument with Jim. “Sorry, honey, what were you saying?” Rachel gave me an annoyed look. “Please pay attention. Lee gave us the info. Can I go tonight?”
“Sure.”
Had I not been so preoccupied I might have thought twice; after all, it was Lee we were dealing with.
We arrived at the turf a few minutes early. Rachel scanned her phone. “Maya just texted. Her mom left late; they’re almost here.” As we waited, Rachel strapped on her shin guards and sipped
water. Suddenly the facility door opened and I started to get a funny feeling. Several moments later there they were: all the girls in the class exiting the facility. Running two-by-two toward the parking lot, they were all in matching shorts and cleats.
Lee had intentionally told Rachel and Maya the wrong time, ensuring they’d miss the practice.
I told Rachel to wait in the car and then got out and walked in the direction the girls had gone, until I found Lee’s giant black SUV. She was in the passenger’s seat, reading something on her phone. I motioned for her to open her window.
“This was really low, Lee, even for you.”
“Ah have no idea what you’re talking about.” She was smirking.
My stomach clenched as I tried to stay calm. “Rachel and Maya. Spelling out the name of the turf, dictating slowly and checking twice; only you gave them the wrong time. They missed the practice and probably pissed off the coach. You made sure of that.”
My palms were sweating and my heart was hammering in my chest. I could barely contain my anger.
“Mah stars. You give me way too much credit, Victoria. And since you and Rachel are here, ah don’t understand whah you’re so worked up. All’s well that end’s well, isn’t that right?” She was smirking again.
I imagined slapping her and leaving finger marks on her perfectly rouged cheeks. “Stay the hell away from my daughter, Lee,” I said, a little more loudly than I would have liked, before turning on my heel and walking back to the car.
“What happened after that?” Julie asked. We were having coffee near my office at a city Starbucks a few weeks after it had all fallen apart with Jim. She and her family were in the city for Christmas, visiting relatives in New Jersey.
“I took Rachel and Maya out for a smoothie.”
I rubbed my temples while pausing for breath. The holidays were lonely this year, depressing without Aunt Pearl and Jim. I decided to tell Julie how I’d made things festive by handing Rachel a box the size of a kayak and watching as she unwrapped it to reveal a smaller box, repeating this exercise several more times, until coming upon a small jewelry case. She smiled when I described the scene: Rachel jumping up and down after discovering the pair of gold heart earrings, centered in a tiny velvet nest. “Pierced?! Thank you,” she’d screamed. “You know, Jules, it was a bright spot in an otherwise joyless month, make that year.”
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