Where'd You Go, Bernadette

by Maria Semple

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  For Poppy Meyer

  The first annoying thing is when I ask Dad what he thinks happened to Mom, he always says, “What’s most important is for you to understand it’s not your fault.” You’ll notice that wasn’t even the question. When I press him, he says the second annoying thing, “The truth is complicated. There’s no way one person can ever know everything about another person.”

  Mom disappears into thin air two days before Christmas without telling me? Of course it’s complicated. Just because it’s complicated, just because you think you can’t ever know everything about another person, it doesn’t mean you can’t try.

  It doesn’t mean I can’t try.

  PART ONE

  Mom Versus the Gnats

  MONDAY, NOVEMBER 15

  Galer Street School is a place where compassion, academics, and global connectitude join together to create civic-minded citizens of a sustainable and diverse planet.

  Student: Bee Branch

  Grade: Eight

  Teacher: Levy

  KEY

  S Surpasses Excellence

  A Achieves Excellence

  W Working towards Excellence

  Geometry S

  Biology S

  World Religion S

  Music S

  Creative Writing S

  Ceramics S

  Language Arts S

  Expressive Movement S

  COMMENTS: Bee is a pure delight. Her love of learning is infectious, as are her kindness and humor. Bee is unafraid to ask questions. Her goal is always deep understanding of a given topic, not merely getting a good grade. The other students look to Bee for help in their studies, and she is always quick to respond with a smile. Bee exhibits extraordinary concentration when working alone; when working in a group, she is a quiet and confident leader. Of special note is what an accomplished flutist Bee continues to be. The year is only a third over, but already I am mourning the day Bee graduates from Galer Street and heads out into the world. I understand she is applying to boarding schools back east. I envy the teachers who get to meet Bee for the first time, and to discover for themselves what a lovely young woman she is.

  *

  That night at dinner, I sat through Mom and Dad’s “We’re-so-proud-of-you”s and “She’s-a-smart-one”s until there was a lull.

  “You know what it means,” I said. “The big thing it means.”

  Mom and Dad frowned question marks at each other.

  “You don’t remember?” I said. “You told me when I started Galer Street that if I got perfect grades the whole way through, I could have anything I wanted for a graduation present.”

  “I do remember,” Mom said. “It was to ward off further talk of a pony.”

  “That’s what I wanted when I was little,” I said. “But now I want something different. Aren’t you curious what it is?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dad said. “Are we?”

  “A family trip to Antarctica!” I pulled out the brochure I’d been sitting on. It was from an adventure travel company that does cruises to exotic places. I opened it to the Antarctica page and passed it across the table. “If we go, it has to be over Christmas.”

  “This Christmas?” Mom said. “Like in a month?” She got up and started stuffing empty take-out containers into the bags they’d been delivered in.

  Dad was already deep into the brochure. “It’s their summer,” he said. “It’s the only time you can go.”

  “Because ponies are cute.” Mom tied the handles in a knot.

  “What do you say?” Dad looked up at Mom.

  “Isn’t this a bad time for you because of work?” she asked him.

  “We’re studying Antarctica,” I said. “I’ve read all the explorers’ journals, and I’m doing my presentation on Shackleton.” I started wiggling in my chair. “I can’t believe it. Neither of you are saying no.”

  “I was waiting for you,” Dad said to Mom. “You hate to travel.”

  “I was waiting for you,” Mom said back. “You have to work.”

  “Oh my God. That’s a yes!” I jumped out of my chair. “That’s a yes!” My joy was so infectious that Ice Cream woke up and started barking and doing victory laps around the kitchen table.

  “Is that a yes?” Dad asked Mom over the crackling of plastic take-out containers being crammed into the trash.

  “That’s a yes,” she said.

  *

  TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 16

  From: Bernadette Fox

  To: Manjula Kapoor

  Manjula,

  Something unexpected has come up and I’d love it if you could work extra hours. From my end, this trial period has been a lifesaver. I hope it’s working for you, too. If so, please let me know ASAP because I need you to work your Hindu magic on a huge project.

  OK: I’ll stop being coy.

  You know I have a daughter, Bee. (She’s the one you order the medicine for and wage valiant battle with the insurance company over.) Apparently, my husband and I told her she could have anything she wanted if she graduated middle school with straight A’s. The straight A’s have arrived—or should I say straight S’s, because Galer Street is one of those liberal, grades-erode-self-esteem-type schools (let’s hope you don’t have them in India)—and so what does Bee want? To take a family trip to Antarctica!

  Of the million reasons I don’t want to go to Antarctica, the main one is that it will require me to leave the house. You might have figured out by now that’s something I don’t much like to do. But I can’t argue with Bee. She’s a good kid. She has more character than Elgie and I and the next ten guys combined. Plus she’s applying to boarding school for next fall, which she’ll of course get into because of said A’s. Whoops, S’s! So it would be in pretty bad taste to deny Buzzy this.

  The only way to get to Antarctica is by cruise ship. Even the smallest one has 150 passengers, which translates into me being trapped with 149 other people who will uniquely annoy the hell out of me with their rudeness, waste, idiotic questions, incessant yammering, creepy food requests, boring small talk, etc. Or worse, they might turn their curiosity toward me, and expect pleasantry in return. I’m getting a panic attack just thinking about it. A little social anxiety never hurt anyone, am I right?

  If I give you the info, could you pretty please take over the paperwork, visas, plane tickets, everything involved with getting we three from Seattle to the White Continent? Is this something you have time for?

  Say yes,

  Bernadette

  Oh! You already have credit card numbers to pay for airfare, trip, and accoutrements. But in terms of your salary, I’d like you to take it directly out of my personal account. When Elgie saw the Visa charge for your work last month—even though it wasn’t much money—he wasn’t thrilled that I’d hired a virtual assistant from India. I told him I wouldn’t be using you anymore. So, if we could, Manjula, let’s keep our romance an illicit one.

  *

  From: Manjula Kapoor

  To: Bernadette Fox

  Dear Ms. Fox,

  It would be my pleasure to assist you with your family travel plans to Antarctica. Attached please find the contract for moving forward on a full-time basis. Whe
re indicated, please include your bank routing number. I look forward to our continued collaboration.

  Warm regards,

  Manjula

  *

  Invoice from Delhi Virtual Assistants International

  Invoice Number: BFB39382

  Associate: Manjula Kapoor

  40 hours a week at $0.75 USD/hr.

  TOTAL:

  $30.00 USD

  Invoice Due in Full upon Receipt

  WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 17

  Letter from Ollie Ordway (“Ollie-O”)

  CONFIDENTIAL:

  TO GALER STREET SCHOOL PARENT ASSOCIATION

  Dear Parents,

  It was terrific to meet you last week. I’m thrilled to have been brought in to consult for the wonderful Galer Street School. Head of School Goodyear promised a motivated Parent Association, and you didn’t disappoint.

  Let’s talk turkey: in three years you’re losing your lease on your current location. Our goal is to launch a capital campaign so you will be able to purchase a larger, more suitable campus. For those of you who couldn’t attend the meeting, here’s the drill-down:

  I conducted an off-site consisting of 25 parents in the Seattle area with an income of $200K+ and whose children are entering kindergarten. The headline is that Galer Street is considered a second-tier school, a fallback option for those who don’t get accepted to their first-choice school.

  Our objective is to move the needle on Galer Street and kick it up into the First-Choice Cluster (FCC) for Seattle’s elite. How do we achieve this? What is the secret sauce?

  Your mission statement says Galer Street is based on global “connectitude.” (You people don’t just think outside the box, you think outside the dictionary!) You received some impressive big-media coverage for the cows you bought for the Guatemalans and the solar cookstoves you sent to the African villagers. While raising small sums of money for people you’ve never met is commendable, you need to start raising large sums of money for your own children’s private school. To do this, you must emancipate yourselves from what I am calling Subaru Parent mentality and start thinking more like Mercedes Parents. How do Mercedes Parents think? My research indicates the following:

  1. The choice of private schools is both fear-based and aspirational. Mercedes Parents are afraid their children won’t get “the best education possible,” which has nothing to do with actual education and everything to do with the number of other Mercedes Parents at a school.

  2. When applying to kindergarten, Mercedes Parents have their eyes on the prize. And that prize is Lakeside School, alma mater of Bill Gates, Paul Allen, et al. Lakeside is considered the feeder school to the Ivy League. Let me rock it straight: the first stop on this crazy train is Kindergarten Junction, and nobody gets off until it pulls into Harvard Station.

  Head of School Goodyear took me on a tour of your current campus at the industrial park. Apparently, Subaru Parents have no problem sending their children to a school adjacent to a wholesale seafood distributor. Let me assure you, Mercedes Parents do.

  All roads lead to raising the money to buy a new campus. The best way to achieve it is to pack the incoming kindergarten class with Mercedes Parents.

  Grab your crampons because we have an uphill climb. But fear not: I do underdog. Based on your budget, I have devised a two-pronged action plan.

  The first action item is a redesign of the Galer Street logo. Much as I love clip-art handprints, let’s try to find an image that better articulates success. A coat of arms divided into four, with images of the Space Needle, a calculator, a lake (as in Lakeside), and something else, maybe some kind of ball? I’m just throwing out some ideas here, nothing’s set in stone.

  The second action item is to hold a Prospective Parent Brunch (PPB), which we aim to fill with Seattle’s elite, or, as I have grown fond of saying, Mercedes Parents. Galer Street parent Audrey Griffin has generously offered to host this gathering at her lovely home. (Best to keep away from the fishery.)

  Attached please find a spreadsheet listing Seattle Mercedes Parents. It is imperative that you go over this list and tell me who you can deliver to the PPB. We’re looking for the watershed get we can then squawk as leverage toward securing other Mercedes Parents. When they all see one another, it will alleviate their fears about Galer Street being a second-tier school and the applications will roll in.

  Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I’m working on the invite. Get me those names ASAP. We need to take this brunch at the Griffins’ house live before Christmas. Saturday, December 11, is my target date. This puppy has all the ingredients of an epic kilt lifter.

  Cheers,

  Ollie-O

  *

  Note from Audrey Griffin to a blackberry abatement specialist

  Tom,

  I was out in my garden, cutting back the perennials and planting some winter color in preparation for a school brunch we’re hosting on December 11. I went to turn the compost and got attacked by blackberry vines.

  I’m shocked to see that they have returned, not only in the compost pile, but in my raised vegetable beds, greenhouse, and even my worm bin. You can imagine my frustration, especially since you charged me a small fortune to remove them three weeks ago. (Maybe $235 isn’t a lot for you, but it’s a lot for us.)

  Your flyer said you guarantee your work. So, please, could you come back and remove all the blackberries by the 11th, this time for good?

  Blessings, and help yourself to some chard,

  Audrey

  *

  Note from Tom, the blackberry abatement specialist

  Audrey,

  I did remove the blackberries on your property. The source of the vines you’re talking about is your neighbor’s house at the top of the hill. Their blackberries are the ones coming under your fence and into your garden.

  To stop them, we could dig a trench at your property line and pour a concrete barrier, but it would need to be five feet deep, and that would be costly. You could also keep on top of them with weed killer, which I’m not sure you want to do because of the worms and the vegetables.

  What really has to happen is the neighbor at the top of the hill has to eradicate their vines. I’ve never seen so many blackberries growing wild in the city of Seattle, especially on Queen Anne Hill, with your home prices. I saw a house on Vashon Island where the whole foundation was cracked by blackberry vines.

  Since the neighbor’s bushes are on a steep hillside, they’re going to need a special machine. The best one is the CXJ Hillside Side-Arm Thrasher. I don’t have one of those myself.

  Another option, and a better one in my opinion, is large pigs. You can rent a couple, and in a week’s time, they’ll pull out those blackberries by the roots and then some. Plus, they’re dang cute.

  Do you want me to talk to the neighbor? I can go knock on the door. But it looks like nobody lives there.

  Let me know.

  Tom

  *

  From: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal

  To: Audrey Griffin

  Audrey,

  I told you I’m starting to take the shuttle bus in to work, right? Well, guess who I rode in with this morning? Bernadette’s husband, Elgin Branch. (I know why I have to save money by taking the Microsoft Connector. But Elgin Branch?) I wasn’t certain it was him at first, that’s how little we all see of him at school.

  So you’re going to love this. There was only one seat available, and it was next to Elgin Branch, an inside one between him and the window.

  “Excuse me,” I said.

  He was furiously typing on his laptop. Without looking up, he moved his knees to the side. I know he’s a Level 80 corporate VP, and I’m just an admin. But most gentlemen would stand up to let a woman through. I squeezed past him and sat down.

  “Looks like we’re going to finally be getting some sunshine,” I said.

  “That would be great.”

  “I’m really looking forward to World Celebration Day,” I said. He looked a little frightened
, like he had no idea who I was. “I’m Lincoln’s mom. From Galer Street.”

  “Of course!” he said. “I’d love to chat, but I’ve got to get this email out.” He grabbed some headphones from around his neck, put them over his ears, and returned to his laptop. And get this—his headphones weren’t even plugged in! They were those sound-canceling ones! The whole ride to Redmond he never spoke to me again.

  Now, Audrey, for the past five years we always figured Bernadette was the ghastly one. Turns out her husband is as rude and antisocial as she is! I was so miffed that when I got to work, I Googled Bernadette Fox. (Something I can’t believe I’ve waited until now to do, considering our unhealthy obsession with her!) Everyone knows Elgin Branch is team leader of Samantha 2 at Microsoft. But when I looked her up, nothing appeared. The only Bernadette Fox is some architect in California. I checked all combinations of her name—Bernadette Branch, Bernadette Fox-Branch. But our Bernadette, Bee’s mom, doesn’t exist as far as the Internet is concerned. Which, these days, is quite an accomplishment in itself.

  On another topic, don’t you love Ollie-O? I was crushed when Microsoft ten-percented him last year. But if that hadn’t happened, we’d never have been able hire him to rebrand our little school.

  Here at Microsoft, SteveB just called a town hall for the Monday after Thanksgiving. The rumor mill is going crazy. My PM asked me to book a meeting room for the hours just prior, and I’m hard-pressed to find one. That can mean only one thing: another round of layoffs. (Happy holidays!) Our team leader heard some scuttlebutt that our project was getting canceled, so he found the biggest email thread he could, wrote “Microsoft is a dinosaur whose stock is going to zero,” then hit Reply All. Never a good thing. Now I’m worried they’re going to punish the whole org and that I won’t land well. Or I might not land at all! What if that meeting room I booked was for my own firing?