“Carson. I thought, considering the paparazzi swarming outside of our house, it was smart to take the kids to my dad’s for a bit. I’m sure you agree it’s what’s best for them.”
It was very early in LA, and between that and the fact that she wasn’t screaming at him, she found him to be quite docile. He almost sounded beaten. She knew better than to think it would last.
“What about school?” he asked.
She thought on her feet. “I’ll sign them up in Hudson Valley for a few weeks.”
“You can do that?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“OK, just until this blows over.”
The fact that he thought this was something to blow over enraged Amanda. But she kept her eye on the prize, strategically adding, “Can you email me a note for the school? Something like, I give permission for my children Sadie and Pippa Cole to enroll in the Hudson Valley school system?”
“Of course, I’ll do it when we hang up.”
“Perfect, thank you,” she said, ending the call before things could go south.
Kidnapping, my ass, she’d thought. It may have been the most civil conversation they ever had. The front door swung open. The girls were home.
It was Pippa who entered the kitchen first, doing her very best to suppress a smile. She lost the battle: a huge grin covered her face.
“There are auditions for the Shakespeare troupe after school tomorrow. They’re putting on Measure for Measure. Will we be here long enough?”
Amanda could not believe what she was hearing. Since birth, it was quite obvious that Pippa was a natural actress. They would marvel about how she could turn it on and off in an instant. She was the poster child for Drama Queen in a way that was instinctive, yet totally in her control. But anytime Amanda suggested she take an acting class or audition for something at school, Pippa had shut her down. Amanda was never sure if it was just typical daughter-mother defiance or a child not wanting to be in the family business, but Pippa would never even consider it. Amanda knew she should just answer the question, but that motherly need to know won out.
“Sure, we can be. But, I’m curious, why the change of heart about acting?” She wanted to grab the words back as soon as they left her lips, a reaction she was experiencing more and more now that Pippa was a teenager.
“I don’t know. It seemed so different from at home.” She looked at her grandpa to explain. “Back home everyone wants to be an actress. And even at school, if I tried out for something, I would be trying out as the big producer Carson Cole’s daughter. Here I’ll just be the new girl.”
She looked back at her mom. “It’s cool.” She placed a piece of paper on the table. “Here’s the permission slip and parent volunteer stuff. You can volunteer if you want. I don’t mind.”
Wow, Amanda thought, on so many levels.
Pippa grabbed a few cookies from the table, freshly baked by Eliza.
“I’m gonna go read the script.”
“Do you want me to come up and run lines with you for the audition?” Amanda asked, hopefully.
“Please, no,” Pippa replied with her usual disgust.
And she’s back, Amanda thought.
Her easy child, Sadie, piped in with a mouth full of cookie. “Mommy, did you make these? They are so delicious, thank you.”
Amanda just smiled, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to give up the admiration in her daughter’s eyes.
“You want some milk?”
“Yes, please.”
They sat together at the same kitchen table where Amanda had sat at Sadie’s age, telling tales of her day to her own mother and, later, to her father. He had tried his best to get home early enough to be both a mom and a dad to Amanda. She remembered the pain that she felt when her parents first separated. She looked for it in Sadie. So far, she only saw a spirited resilience.
“Can I go watch TV?” she blurted, little pieces of cookie spraying from her mouth. They both laughed.
“Of course. Go on, honey.” Sadie hugged her before she ran off, two more cookies in hand. Amanda picked up the volunteer form and glanced at it.
“I’m going to Eliza’s!” she shouted out to her dad, as she had a zillion times before.
* * *
—
Across the street, Eliza was sitting at her desk, trolling her site and eating her “breakfast.” Activity on the bulletin board had been growing in leaps and bounds since Eliza’s fictional post had stirred things up. In comparison, the Valley Girls posts seemed disingenuous. Eliza spent a lot of her not-so-precious time lately comparing the two, and although she knew she wasn’t completely objective, she enjoyed scrolling through her own site much more. Valley Girls seemed to be made up of lots of new mothers asking rookie questions of other new mothers. The greatest example being:
My son just fell and is bleeding profusely. What should I do?
Their responses were even more comedic, as if they believed that nearly every problem could be cured by squirting a little breast milk on it or rubbing on some coconut oil. And some of the anonymous posts felt more like posturing than sincerely engaging with the community:
My husband wants to try breastfeeding. Should I let him?
In contrast, the anonymous posts on the Hudson Valley Ladies’ Bulletin Board, which proved to be the key to catapulting the conversation out of the Dark Ages, were smart and often made her laugh out loud.
Does anyone else feel like they have sexual chemistry with Bart, the guy behind the deli counter at the Stop & Shop?
General consensus: Yes!
Favorite comment: “I love when he says, ‘I have your pound of meat right here.’”
Do I have to go with my husband for my bitchy mother-in-law’s birthday visit every year? He always says “This could be her last!”
General consensus: Mixed.
Favorite comment: “It depends. Are you her health proxy?”
Even some of the regular posts seemed more brazen:
Looking for ways to spice up my sex life. Any suggestions?
Favorite comment: “C-O-C-O-N-U-T.”
Followed by an ambiguous: If you know, you know.
According to the whopping 163 comments that followed, no one knew. Finally, the commenter returned to explain that she moves her hips in the direction of the letters during sex and it drives her husband crazy.
There were also posts that reminded her of the reason she started the bulletin board to begin with—to harness the collective power of the women in her community. Last month they organized a meal train for the family of a woman recovering from heart surgery. And today a post about a missing dog named Truffles Goldstein was getting a lot of attention.
Eliza was knee-deep in the dog post when Amanda interrupted her. She had barged into Eliza’s house, knocking with one hand while letting herself in with her spare key with the other. She yelled from the foyer, “Eliza! Where are you? Are you alone?”
“I’m upstairs with my lover—a breakfast burrito.”
Amanda took the stairs two at a time. Being in her childhood home, and Eliza’s, was infusing her with a long-lost and deeply satisfying sense of nostalgia. Quite a miracle really, since she was in the middle of the biggest crisis of her adult life. She found her friend at the computer, her mouth full of tortilla, eggs, and avocado.
“Eliza, it’s four o’clock.”
“Well, I just got out of bed.”
“That’s not good—even though your FOGO is as much of a comfort to me as that burrito is to you.”
Eliza laughed. “Why, because I’m always here when you need me?”
“Exactly. The cookies were a big hit, by the way. They won’t be happy coming home to store-bought anymore.”
“Well, not to worry. I send batches up to school for the twins and their friends weekly. I am happy to add in more for your girl
s.”
Amanda held up the volunteer form for Pippa’s play.
“Good. Should I sign up for snack volunteer?”
“That would be me volunteering, no? Find something that you enjoy. This may be the perfect distraction for you.”
Eliza grabbed the sheet and skimmed it. Amanda already had and was cautiously excited about the last bolded request.
“Look here.” She pointed to it for Eliza to read.
“You know it’s Pippa who will be in the play, not you, right?”
“Yes, I’m very happy for her. Read the last part.”
She complied, reading it out loud for effect: “As many of you know, my usual AD is out on maternity leave. We are looking for a parent with theater experience for the assistant director position. Any takers?”
Amanda did her best soft-shoe, followed by jazz hands. “Ta-da!”
Eliza laughed. “It sounds perfect, Mandy. Now let’s just hope Pippa gets a part.”
That was not a worry for Amanda. She responded confidently, “Pippa will get the lead!”
CHAPTER 21
Alison & Jackie
That night, Alison enjoyed bathing Zachary and getting him to bed more than usual. As much fun as she had had in the city with Olivia, she had missed her baby boy. She wondered if she would get used to missing him when she went back to the office. All of these feelings were surprising to her. She remembered snapping at a senior partner at her firm when he asked how she would balance it all after her baby was born.
She’d said, “Did you ask Ken Straub how he would balance it all when he had a kid?” knowing full well that he hadn’t. She loved not answering a question by deeming it unworthy, when in truth she didn’t know the answer. She still hadn’t a clue.
She watched Zach blissfully asleep in his crib for a few minutes and then went downstairs to the kitchen. The appetizers she and Olivia had shared at Grand Central left her at that hard-to-satisfy junction between needing a snack and a meal. She decided to count it as dinner and went right to dessert. She hunkered down on the couch with a pint of Halo Top Peanut Butter Cup ice cream, a spoon, and her laptop. Before long she was immersed in the Hudson Valley Ladies’ Bulletin Board, caught up in the story of the missing shepherd/retriever, Truffles Goldstein.
The photo of Truffles’s sweet face swaddled in the arms of an equally sweet-faced little boy was enough to gain any and all sympathies. At least that’s what Alison imagined. The comments were mixed.
Most people said helpful things, like:
Alert the local shelters, in case someone brings him there.
If you message me Lost Dog signs, I’m happy to print them and put them up!
Me too!
Me three!
Along with some nasty comments, like:
It breaks my heart when people leave their dogs tied up outside a store.
How important is a fancy cup of coffee?
Some people shouldn’t own a dog.
Alison messaged Jackie:
Did you read what happened outside of the Café Karma Sutra? Not very Zen! At least they have moved on from Tampongate and are now bashing this poor dog owner!
Jackie was sitting on his couch watching The Bachelor with Jana. He had actually taken the advice to do so from a very helpful conversation on the bulletin board on ways to connect with your teenager. It turned out to be quite the resource for a parent trying to be both a mom and a dad. Jana was into it.
When he saw the message from Alison, he was torn. On the ride home from the station, he had decided that his best bet was to only talk to her as Jack from the train. Eventually he could tell her the truth—no harm, no foul. When the commercial break came, and Jana pulled out her phone (the bulletin board advice included instructions about not complaining if your daughter pulled out the phone during commercials), Jackie did the same. Watching all of this dating on TV motivated him. He texted Alison:
Great meeting you today. Are you free for dinner one night this week?
The show came back on, and he put down his phone, pretending to be all in. To be clear, he was at least halfway in. He found the show oddly compelling. A particularly dramatic scene involving two of the participants and a hot tub was playing out, but he was having a hard time concentrating. By the time the deciding rose ceremony was over and there was still no response from Alison, he was feeling an awful lot like the poor girls being sent home on the show. He admonished himself for writing such a forward first text, broke down, and slipped back into his Tootsie role (pun intended). I will just respond to this one last conversation, he promised himself.
Hi, I didn’t read the bulletin board today, but I will check it out. Sounds scandalous! Speaking of . . . how did it go today with your friend?
Great for me and good for my friend, too. She now has a plan of action, and I think having a plan is helpful for her state of mind.
Bugging out that she wasn’t responding to his text, he pressed on:
What was so great for you?
It was fun to be in the city again and to see my college friend. And . . . I met a cute guy on the train.
Thank the lord!, he thought. He loved this instant messaging thing. There he was grinning like a fool while typing like he was cool AF. He joked:
I thought you had sworn off dating.
He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. He promised he would stop after this.
I know I said that, but you know, a girl has needs.
Damn. Abort. Abort. He had no idea how to respond. He didn’t have to because . . .
Aaaah! I just looked at my phone, he already texted me. He wants to have dinner. I’m not usually this easily smitten. I think this baby thing has made me soft.
It can have that effect. I’ll let you go.
He can wait, what should I say? Should I go for dinner or ask to meet him for coffee? I can suggest we meet at Karma Sutra.
I’m going straight to hell, Jackie thought. Yet it didn’t stop him from getting what he wanted.
Go for dinner. You can have a glass of wine; get to know each other.
OK, very true. I’m answering now.
Jackie’s phone dinged.
Sure, that would be great. I’ll get a sitter. Do you want to try for Thursday night?
Jackie answered the text:
Perfect! I will make a reservation in town.
She came back to Jackie. He anxiously watched the dots on the screen indicating she was typing.
I have a date! Thursday night. I’m actually excited! Maybe the rejection by Zachary’s dad affected me more than I knew, but I feel great that someone is interested in me. I may even shave!
Jackie laughed and tried to fall back into Tootsie character by repeating a line he heard from one of the women on The Bachelor:
I always keep my legs shaved and my passport up to date. Even though I haven’t been out of the country in years!
That’s funny, but I wasn’t talking about my legs!
It was then that he realized he had played it too far. He tossed his phone onto the couch and went upstairs to kiss Jana goodnight. While he was thinking of the best next moves for Jack and Jackie, Alison was distracted by another text that stopped her dead in her tracks.
The name “Marc Sugarman” appeared on her phone along with the words:
We need to talk.
CHAPTER 22
Olivia & Alison & Eliza & Amanda
Olivia set out for Alison’s Tuesday morning as planned under the guise of two moms out for an exercise walk with their babies. She felt tortured since arriving home the night before but was careful not to show it. She apologized to Spencer again for her suspicions and said she felt much more like herself after spending a fun day in the city with her new friend. He apologized again in return for his counter accusations, saying they were both under a lot of pressure and should forget about the whole thing. She wished
that were the case but smiled and agreed as if it were.
She’d planned on initiating sex with him that night, to further prove her stance, but couldn’t go through with it. It had now been months since they had been together that way, so he didn’t notice or care. She had heard of other new fathers practically begging their wives for sex as early as two weeks after childbirth. At the time she thought, How lucky am I to have such a selfless husband? Now it was all coming into question.
She had followed Andie’s advice to a T, but in her heart, she still wanted to ask Spencer for explanations. She wanted him to make her feel better, even if his words were lies. She wished she could tell him what she had done that day, how she was sure he was cheating. Then he could respond by telling her he adored her and would never even look at another woman. She could just believe him and that would be that. But that was not who she was.
As she walked to Alison’s, the morning mist hung heavy in the trees. It eerily matched her psyche, heavy with burden, her empty stomach so filled with fear that it blocked her breath. She again felt as if she were walking to her execution. She wished she hadn’t brought Lily with her and wasn’t sure if she could even care for her in her shaky arms, but Alison had insisted. She felt Eliza Hunt would not be able to resist telling the truth to a woman with an infant. What woman could?
Alison was waiting for her, ready to walk, but changed her mind when she saw her. There was a fine line between a sympathetic witness and a pathetic one.
Eliza Starts a Rumor Page 12