by Josie Brown
Even in heels, she kept pace with him all the way to the St. Regis.
She must have needed that drink as badly as he did.
11:41 p.m.
He was surprised by how easy he found it to divulge his own bizarre machinations regarding the Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club.
He told her how he’d met Jade at a strip club, and it was lust at first sight; how, when Jade had told him she was pregnant, his heart had sunk, but he knew he’d stand by his kid, no matter what; how, when Oliver was only five months old, Jade had put her so-called career ahead of their son’s health, and their baby’s raging fever had landed Oliver in the hospital; and how, because of the club’s rules forbidding dads’ participation other than at their adult parties, he’d bitten the bullet and had invited Jade back into his life.
That’s what happens when you let a pretty woman buy you a triple Johnny Walker Blue, he reasoned.
“She loves Ollie,” Ally insisted. “It shows in everything she does for him.”
Brady grimaced at the nickname. “It’s Oliver. Yeah, yeah, I know she calls him that all the time. Someday I’ll break her of the habit. And yes, I know she loves him. But…well, I never loved her.”
Ally grinned as she patted his arm. “Love is like sand, isn’t it? Shifting with time, but always there in some form. We never know what the future holds, do we?”
More of you, I hope. Right then and there, he could have kissed her.
Instead, he picked up the tab and walked her to her car.
“Mum’s the word,” he promised.
Monday, 8 October
“Ladies! Ladies! Gather ’round, please.” Bettina’s lilting declaration was more of a command than a pleasantry.
The mothers from the various groups within the club quit chattering and did as they were told.
“As we all know, Halloween is just around the corner, which means the PHM&T’s annual Halloween party is as well.”
The squeals and claps were to be expected, despite the fact that the members had been prepping for the event for weeks.
Unlike the probationary Onesies, who, until now, hadn’t realized how big a deal it was.
“The rules are strict.” The emphasis on that last word came with a laser-like gaze at the newbie Onesies, so they could gauge the importance the event would have on their survival in the club. “First, all costumes are handmade, by each child’s mother. Be original, people! The mundane is abhorred, whereas the eclectic is celebrated! Second, all children must participate in the parade in order to be eligible for our wonderful prizes, which were chosen by one of our probationary Onesies, Jade Pierce…” Bettina’s hand swept out toward Jade in a gesture of gracious inclusion, “…along with moi. So, yes, you will love them.”
Again, not a mere statement, but a command.
The applause that accompanied her departure proved this.
Jillian slumped down on the bench. Between single parenting and almost two weeks of waiting tables, she was downright exhausted. Now she had to make the girls’ costumes by hand, too? What she knew about sewing wasn’t much more than how to thread a needle to sew on a button. Maybe she could put the girls in large white paper bags lined with a row of black buttons down the center, and they could come as snowmen.
Noting the look on her face, Ally gave her a gentle hug. “Oh, come on, it won’t be that difficult to whip something up.”
“Speak for yourself,” Lorna murmured. Her face mirrored Jillian’s worry. In anticipation of the event, she’d already spent a fortune on a miniature Sherlock Holmes outfit she’d found in a costume catalog. Knowing Bettina the way she did, she presumed the word “eclectic” meant the costumes had to be something no one else would have thought of—in other words, no ghosts, witches, Hulks or Iron Man costumes.
“I’ve got an idea.” Ally turned to face them all. “Why not work on them together? There’s no rule that says we can’t. In fact, we can do it at my house. I’m into crafts, so if you have an idea of what you’d like to make, let me know. I’ll see what kind of cloth and felt and feathers and buttons I’ve got in my stash. Everyone can come by after the meet-up next Monday.”
“I’m in!” Lorna and Jillian said at the same time, then laughed together.
“Me, too,” Jade said. For once, she felt close to the others—and not just because Brady would be pleased with her.
“I’ll pass,” Chakra declared with a sniff. “I’m sure whatever you’ve been holding in your basement is synthetic, not to mention covered in mold spores.”
Ally shook her head to keep from lashing out. Her fabric stash came from the pristine design studio at Foot Fetish, not that the other women needed to know that.
“I’ve already ordered some bolts of organic cotton from India,” Chakra said. “And I’ll be making my own glue. That way it’s non-toxic. And edible, in fact.”
“Ah! So that explains it…” Ally muttered under her breath.
The others turned away to keep from laughing out loud. Thank goodness the slight went right over Chakra’s head.
Or maybe not.
“Gotta run!” Chakra growled. “Sally and I are diagramming the children’s harvest of the PHM&T’s communal garden. She can’t do anything without me.”
“We’ve noticed,” Kelly said in mock innocence.
“Well, missy, there is something else that’s been noticed—by the applications committee: your late attendance to meet-ups.”
Seeing, Chakra’s smirk, Kelly turned white.
As Chakra sauntered over to Sally’s bench, Kelly muttered, “Well, she’s certainly making herself indispensible to the committee. I guess that’s one way to play the game.”
The same thought had crossed everyone’s mind at that exact moment: How far do I have to go to win a slot?
Kelly leaned over to Lorna and whispered, “What will you make for Dante’s costume?”
Lorna shook her head. “To tell you the truth, I’ve got no idea.”
“Me neither! But I’ve got one great idea, why don’t we dress the boys alike? It would be so cute!”
Lorna didn’t know how to tell Kelly that this was the last thing she’d want to do, but then she thought better of it. Other than gushing over Jade, Bettina hadn’t been playing favorites.
Still, there was a reason Kelly was sitting there on the bench with the rest of them, so there must be a good reason why Bettina saw it fitting to have her old high school BFF around, despite her chronic tardiness.
Okay sure, why not dress the boys alike? Lorna wondered. It’ll be a good bonding experience for both Dante and for me. Besides, it’s like they say: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I’m guessing Kelly is the former with Bettina as opposed to the latter. One thing is for sure: if it turns out I’m wrong, she can’t make Bettina hate me more than she already does.
Monday, 15 October
“Sorry to bother you, Ally.” The dread in Jen’s voice released a trickle of sweat down Ally’s back. “But Ellis is wondering if you’ll be joining us for the strategy session that was scheduled for eleven o’clock today.”
Confused, Ally stared down at her new cell phone. Maybe the reception was bad. “What? But it’s Monday. My contract explicitly states that all meetings requiring my attendance will be held on either Tuesdays or Thursdays! He knows that.”
Jen had called right as Ally was cleaning the remains of Zoe’s breakfast from her high chair tray. She sighed as she perused the wall next to the chair, where Zoe had just smeared oatmeal in an attempt at mural art.
“DOCK!” the little girl stated proudly, despite the stain’s six legs and two heads.
Ally forced her mouth into a smile. “Jen, put Ellis on the phone—now.”
At least the on-hold music was somewhat apropos: Billy Joel, growling My Life.
“Ally! Top of the morning to you!” Ellis’s fake attempt at cheeriness almost made Ally gag.
“Cut it out, Ellis. It will be anything but that if you dare break the
contract and schedule meetings requiring my attendance on days which aren’t covered by it.”
“There are some decisions that need immediate attention! You know, Ally, not all of us have the luxury of being on the ‘mommy track.’”
“Well, then maybe ‘all of us’ need to get a better attorney. Mine is wonderful. In fact, if he got wind of what you’ve just tried here, he’d be on the phone to Bracknell’s chairman to remind them of the penalty for breaking the contract.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Ally imagined he was weighing the odds of winning at this psycho attempt at corporate cocksmanship against those of losing his job for costing Bracknell International a pretty penny.
“Tomorrow then? See if you can squeeze it into your schedule.” She had her answer.
Before she could hear the click that told her he’d hung up on her, she threw her new cell phone onto the couch.
Zoe ran to retrieve it. Excited that she’d beat her mother to it, she tossed it into the sink—
Where it plopped into the soapy dishwater.
Ally buried her head in her hands. Maybe living without a cell phone wasn’t such a bad idea.
At least until Zoe was four or so.
Wow, her aim is incredible! I wonder how old she has to be for softball league?
12:22 p.m.
Ally had outdone herself for what the Probationary Onesies were now calling “the costume workshop.” Along with bolts in all shades and fabrics and textures, there were scissors, glue guns, glitter, plus tiny plastic jars of water paints, feathers, buttons, Styrofoam balls, and cardboard.
She’d also gone out of her way to get solid-colored one-piece footed pajamas in a rainbow selection of toddler sizes 12 to 24 months.
Lorna gave a long, low whistle. “I feel as if I’ve walked into Martha Stewart’s workshop. This is incredible!” She picked up a footsie. “Smart thinking! These will cut our work in half.”
Jillian nodded. “That’s fine by me, since I’ve got to make two of them.”
“Your daughters are adorable. Like two peas in a pod.” Jade stroked Amelia’s cheek while she slept. Thank goodness the workshop was taking place during all the toddlers’ naptime. Jade froze then picked up two solid green footsies. “That’s it! Why not make them peas in a pod?”
“Oh my God! What a great idea! I can paint these Stryrofoam balls light green, and run them right beside the zipper, then layer felt onto their footsies, to make the pod. They’ll have green felt hats, too, and voila!” Jillian grabbed a paintbrush and went to work.
In a few minutes, everyone was busy at work. Jade was putting stripes on a white footsie, the first step toward a little baseball outfit sporting the number 55—San Francisco Giants pitcher, Tim Lincecum.
Kelly and Lorna had decided on Robin Hood outfits.
When the doorbell rang, Ally was gluing peacock feathers on a turquoise footsie for Zoe’s bird costume. She was surprised to see Brady standing on the other side of the door.
“Where’s the party?” he asked.
“In here, to the left. Follow me.”
He’d follow her to the ends of the earth if she’d let him.
In the meantime, he would admire her from afar.
For now anyway.
Although the other women waved at him, they were too wrapped up in their projects to notice Jade’s joy as she threw herself into his arms.
Everyone but Ally, that is.
Jade’s kiss was aimed at Brady’s lips, but he jerked his head away, and the kiss landed on his chin instead.
She shrugged it off, but he could tell she was hurt.
Ally must have known, too, because she turned away too quickly, spilling the bottled water on the table beside her elbow.
“Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered as she swabbed the spill with a dishcloth.
That’s when Brady realized Ally would never do anything to hurt her new friend, Jade.
They were all in this together. Jade included.
He too wanted to let loose with a litany of curses, but he couldn’t.
Just like he couldn’t take Ally in his arms.
Or kiss her. Or tell her how she was everything he’d been looking for in a woman. Up until now, he’d let his dick or his brogrammer ego lead him to flashy, stacked women who were wowed by his money, his smarts, and his reputation for making them miserable.
Ally didn’t want him to make her miserable. She just wanted to be his friend.
But that wasn’t an option.
One way or another, he’d convince her of that.
But first he’d have to make Jade understand she was here for Oliver and not for him.
That wasn’t going to be easy. But it was the only option she’d have, if she wanted to stay in Oliver’s life.
Monday, 22 October
If you were to ask Sally, Chakra was a dream come true. Not only did she hoe, rake, compost, plant, fertilize, and water on command, but in Sally’s timid mind, she’d also taken on the hardest job of all: Shaming the other moms into taking their designated shifts.
Granted, throwing that tomato at the Threesie mother who refused to weed the garden in brand new trousers was going a bit too far, but Chakra’s sullen apology had been accepted (along with Sally’s promise to babysit the woman’s toddler on two separate occasions, and buy her a new pair of pants).
So Sally was heartbroken when, loading the gardening tools into the trunk of Chakra’s Nissan Leaf electric car, she discovered the clear plastic sales bag containing little Quest’s Halloween costume—and the purchase receipt.
She was still deciding whether it was worth covering for Chakra when Mallory walked up behind her. “Wow, this is a pretty big trunk for an electric car.”
Sally almost jumped out of her skin before slamming the trunk lid.
Mallory whipped her hand away just in time. “Jesus, Sally! You broke my nail! What was that white thing in there anyway?”
“Nothing. Just…an old rug.”
She was lying. It was a fleece lamb costume from some organic costume company based in Berkeley.
If Quest wore it to the parade, and Mallory recognized it and realized Sally had covered up the infraction, Sally would be just as dead to the club as Chakra.
This year, Halloween was turning out to be scary for all the wrong reasons.
Wednesday, 24 October
It was Lorna’s idea that the Onesies attend an It’s Yoga mom-and-baby class in the Presidio as that morning’s meet-up activity. As she watched the other mothers breathing and stretching with their toddlers to the directions murmured by the studio’s instructor, she too breathed deeply. This event was exactly what she needed to solidify her place in the club.
Bettina had sent Mallory as her eyes and ears. Unfortunately, the way Mallory tapped her foot and clucked her tongue during the whole session was anything but relaxing. Not only that, Lorna didn’t like the way Mallory was scrutinizing Dante. The scorn in Mallory’s eyes as Dante groaned whenever Lorna tried to follow the instructor’s gentle directive to stretch his leg, or lift his arm, was obvious. Whereas the other children laughed and cooed at being stretched and played with, Dante preferred that Lorna leave him be. To her dismay, her touch was shrugged off.
If Mallory weren’t watching, she would have teared up. Instead, she smiled and laughed; all the while pretending Dante’s actions were normal.
But she knew better.
It was a hollow victory when, afterward, all the other mothers gave Lorna a round of applause at the instructor’s behest. The worst part was seeing the concern on the instructor’s face as Dante covered his ears with his hands and started humming.
As the other women and their children flowed out of the room, the instructor laid her hand on Lorna’s arm to hold her back. “Your son—Dante, isn’t it?—such a sweet, handsome boy. I know his disorder must be challenging. Please feel free to bring him to one of our ‘Yoga for the Special Child’ classes—”
Lorna stared a
t the woman. “What? I don’t get it.”
The instructor’s eyes deepened with the realization of Lorna’s cluelessness. “Oh! I thought Dante’s doctor may have referred you to our studio.”
“No! I heard a few moms rave about your program, and I thought it would be nice for our moms and tots group. I think everyone was fine with it.”
Everyone but Dante.
Lorna could tell the woman was thinking the very same thing.
At that moment, Lorna realized that Mallory was still in the studio, looking at the schedule posted on the wall. Had she overheard the conversation?
If so, that would ruin Dante’s acceptance into the PHM&T Club, where everything was perfect. His rejection into the club would be just the start of all the sad, bad things that could happen to him. It could ruin his life.
She could never let that happen. Ever.
Clutching Dante to her chest, she walked out the door without another word to the woman.
I have to find out if something is wrong with him, she thought as she strapped Dante into his car seat. No matter what it is, we’ll deal with it…
That woman mentioned a doctor who would know.
She waited until all the other mother’s cars had cleared the parking lot—Mallory’s included—before heading back inside, Dante in tow.
The instructor was making notes at the front desk. Her grin disappeared when she realized Lorna was back, and that she wasn’t smiling.
“What did you mean when you said you had classes for ‘special children’?” Lorna asked.
“We’ve developed a therapeutic yoga program for children with all kinds of developmental or learning disabilities: Autism, Cerebral Palsy, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, and Down's Syndrome. Yoga has been proven to increase the body awareness of such children.” The woman reached for a brochure and held it out to Lorna who hesitated to take it.
Could she be the right? Lorna thought. No, never…