by Kiley Reid
From inside the partially cracked sliding glass door, Alix heard the familiar raspy voice of her only child saying, “Mama?”
Jodi sang, “Uh-ohh.”
Alix stood. “Someone could tell I was having too much fun,” she said.
Nine
On Friday morning, October 30, Spoons Chamberlain passed away peacefully at home, surrounded by his family, who had no idea. Alix discovered the floating body at 11:34 a.m. and softly whispered, “Shit.” Briar was finishing a lunch of chicken and pears, and Catherine bounced in a Jumperoo in the corner. Alix placed a plant in front of the bowl and reached for her phone.
Briar’s fish just died, she texted. Can I ask Emira to pick up another one?
JODI: Yes.
TAMRA: Yes.
RACHEL: One time Arnetta picked up a Plan B for me.
“You all done?” Alix asked Briar, who nodded with her mouth still full, and Alix set her on the floor.
“Mama?” Briar ambled over to Catherine. She swiped her sister’s blond hair across her forehead, and Catherine beamed. “How does feathers get wet?”
“Umm, in the rain?” Alix said. “Or when birds take a bath? Let’s be gentle with baby sis.”
“But how—because . . . the feathers is . . . how the feathers get wet and fly away?”
“Bri, look.” Alix picked up a pink ball from a bin of toys and tossed it down the hall. Briar gasped, overjoyed, and dutifully pumped her arms as she went running after it.
So it’s not weird if I call her and ask her to grab it on her way over?
JODI: You are so funny, Alix. Not at all. She’s on the clock.
TAMRA: Exactly. One time I had Shelby pretend to be me so I wouldn’t have to talk to a salesman.
Alix texted: Was she mad about it?
Not at all, Tamra replied. She was very excited to do a British accent.
One time, Rachel texted, I had Arnetta tell this creep that I died.
Emira answered on the first ring. When Alix whispered that Briar’s fish had died, Emira laughed and said, “Spoons?”
“I’m so sorry to ask, but can you pick one up before you come here today? I can text you a picture of it in case you forgot.”
After a moment, Emira said, “A picture of a dead fish?”
“That’s not weird, is it?” Alix bent to retrieve the pink and squishy ball Briar had returned to her. “There it goes!” she whispered to Briar, and she tossed it toward the girls’ bedroom. “If it’s a pet store I’m sure they’ve seen a lot worse.”
“So . . . today is the Halloween party at Briar’s ballet class? And if I go to the pet store I’ll be too late to take her.”
Alix placed a hand to her forehead and once again said, “Shit.”
“I mean, you could take her. I could just meet you guys there and we can switch.”
“I would but I can’t,” Alix said. “I have Laney Thacker coming over here at six and I need to grab some things.”
“Who?”
“Peter’s co-anchor.”
“The one you don’t really like?”
Had Alix said that? She’d said it to Rachel, Jodi, and Tamra many times (Jodi had replied that Thacker was not a real name, and in response to the Internet photo Alix had sent of Laney, Tamra had said, No way, and Rachel had said, That woman is not real. But had Alix revealed how she felt about Peter’s co-anchor to Emira? Well, yes. In so many words. The day that Alix finished the thank-you cards to Briar’s birthday party attendees, she’d licked the last envelope and said, “That was painful.”
Emira had said, “I hate writing thank-you notes.”
“I’m usually good at it, but most of those gifts were insane.” Alix slipped the letters into her purse. “And I can’t say, ‘Thank you, Laney, for the toddler glitter and lipstick set, and insinuating to my daughter that her looks matter more than her mind.’”
Emira had laughed politely.
Slighting Laney had been the by-product, not the intention, of pointing out to Emira that these were not the items Alix wanted around her daughter. Emira was partially raising Briar. These gifts were a perfect moment to emphasize how Peter and Alix wanted Briar to think for herself, rather than think of herself. But adding Laney to the equation had been a mistake that wasn’t apparent until now, with Spoons’s dead body floating in the bowl. Laney Thacker discernibly wanted a friendship with Alix, and unlike Rachel, Jodi, and Tamra, Emira had witnessed this genuine longing in person. Laney checked in with Alix’s face before she laughed or responded in group conversation. She’d sent a housewarming gift during Alix’s first week in Philadelphia, including two pairs of what—she wrote in a gorgeous card—she hoped would become Alix’s “good scissors.” Gossiping about Laney was no longer dirty and fun. It felt like smacking a kitten in the face.
“Sorry, what?” Alix stalled. “Oh, Laney’s fine. But does that sound okay?”
“Okay, so . . .” Emira said, “I’ll go and pick up a fish, and then I’ll come over, and Briar will miss the Halloween party at ballet?”
“Yes,” Alix decided. She began to think out loud. “I’d rather that than have her asking questions about it all night long. And you know what? She doesn’t have her costume on and she won’t remember at all. She’s going trick-or-treating tomorrow so she’ll have more than enough Halloween.”
Alix wasn’t certain, but above the street noises on Emira’s end of the line, she thought she heard Emira laugh, but not as if she’d heard a joke. “Of course I’ll pay you for the fish,” Alix said.
“Oh, no. It was like, forty cents. It’s cool. I’ll see you . . . whenever I get there.”
“Okay, great. Thank you.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And you’ll get to leave at six today!”
“Oh, okay.”
“But of course we’ll pay you like it’s seven.”
“K.”
“Okay, great. Thanks, Emira.” Alix cringed and hung up the phone.
A text message from Laney was waiting on her phone. Is it okay if Ramona and Suzanne swing by with me tonight? They have girls too and they’re completely lovely. Feel free to tell me no if you just want one-on-one time!
Alix rubbed the back of her neck and thought, Jesus fucking Christ. With both hands she texted, The more the merrier!
Emira arrived at twelve thirty. When Alix met her downstairs, she didn’t mean to, but she did a goofy Did you get it? face that she immediately regretted. With zero secrecy and without a word, Emira handed her a plastic bag with a goldfish swimming inside. Alix didn’t know where Emira first purchased the fish, but she assumed it was one of those places with an overcrowded tank; hundreds of bulging bodies swimming frantically inside. Maybe they hadn’t let her be choosy, because this fish both was smaller than the original Spoons and had black dots on its tail, but Alix still said, “Great,” and exhaled, “Thank you.” She wrapped it into the side of her sweater and headed upstairs to make the switch.
Whenever Alix was afraid that Emira was mad at her, she came back to the same line of thought: Oh God, did she finally see what Peter said on the news? No, she couldn’t have. She’s always like this, right? Emira came upstairs as Alix finished washing her hands. She said nothing when Catherine saw her and squealed, and she only smiled when Briar pointed and announced to the room, “Mira likes pants.” Alix dried her hands and gently cracked her big toe on the tile floor. Was Emira really that mad over the fish? Had this been an embarrassing task? If anything, wasn’t Alix giving Emira a little break? Alix had been to Briar’s ballet class before. It was boring and tedious and the other mothers were hypersupportive in an uncomfortable way, seeing great promise in their three-year-olds as future ballerinas whereas Briar’s doctor had recommended enrollment merely for balance and listening skills. Only a week had passed since Emira stayed late to have a drink with Alix, but their silent and secret agreeme
nt—that they’d had a nice time talking together, that they didn’t always have to discuss the children, that they could possibly be friends—had lapsed back into a formal toleration. Emira sat on the floor next to Briar and adjusted the collar on the LetHer Speak polo.
Alix retrieved Catherine and strapped her into the Babybjörn. With a few clicks on the computer in the kitchen, the one Briar watched fish and pandas on, she found a Halloween-themed dog parade in a park nearby and wrote down the address and time for Emira. “I think this will be a fun thing for you guys. If it isn’t, it’s obviously your call. Have fun, Bri. You might see some doggies today.”
Briar looked up from inspecting Emira’s earring. “Doggies in my house?”
“No, honey. At the park. I love you.”
“Is there doggies in the house?”
“No, Bri.”
“Did their mamas get lost?”
“I love you, have fun!” Alix trotted down the stairs.
At the front door, Alix sealed herself into the front vestibule, one hand around Catherine’s bootied foot and the other on the strap of her purse. As always, in the charger was Emira’s blinking phone.
KENAN&KEL: Good luck at your Halloween ballet recital/pageant/performance. I know how much you and (what’s the kid’s name?) have trained for this moment. Leave it all on the stage. Break a leg. Merde.
When Alix reached for the front door, something sparkled from Emira’s purse, hung on the vestibule wall. Inside the front flap was a black headband with glittery cat ears. The price tag was still attached and read $6.99.
* * *
—
Peter texted to make sure this date with Laney was still happening. Alix had rescheduled twice so far, and this night was to prove that she had honestly just been very busy, that she supported her husband and his career, and that sure, Laney wasn’t that bad. Alix purchased flowers, Halloween coloring books, sparkling water, bread, nuts, and cheeses. While Catherine slept in the bassinet she kept next to her bed, Alix rearranged the girls’ room and set up her iPad in front of a row of sleeping bags and pillows. Alix considered calling Emira while she was at the park with Briar, speaking to her while Catherine napped, or peeking her head in as Emira gave Briar a very early bath. But the idea of possibly turning the second floor of her home into an even more awkward place seemed more terrifying than trying to fix the situation.
And at 6 p.m., when Laney, Suzanne, and Ramona arrived (Laney with her four-year-old, Bella, and Suzanne with her yoga mat), Alix was reassured that she had done the right thing. If she could go back, she’d still go to lengths to replace the fish, rather than telling Briar the truth. After canceling on Laney so many times, Alix felt the need to give her an extra pleasant evening, without the presence of a grieving, hyperinquisitive toddler.
When Briar was two, after learning that she’d bruised her vagina while riding a tricycle, Briar explained her diagnosis to every individual present at the playground, a sales associate at J.Crew, and three students in a mommy-and-me art class. Briar did the same thing when she learned the words earwax, handicapped, pink eye, and Chinese. On top of her daughter’s unfiltered gregariousness was the general preciousness of Bella Thacker. Bella’s cheeks were naturally blushed and her brown hair—there was an anomalous amount of it—hung down sweetly and curled at her shoulders (whenever Alix saw Bella and her thick mane, she couldn’t help but think of the Orthodox women in New York who shopped in groups at Bloomingdale’s and carried black strollers onto the subway). As Alix bent to thank Bella for coming over, Bella bowed her head and said, “Yes, ma’am.” She wore a striped set of pajamas with a pressed collar at the neck.
Emira and Briar came down the stairs, hand in hand, as Suzanne told Alix how lovely her home was. Laney nodded and said, “Isn’t it perfect?”
Bella said loudly, “Hi, Briar.” She stepped forward to give Briar a theatrical embrace.
“Briar has been looking forward to this all day,” Alix said. “Bri, do you want to show Bella your room?”
In purple leggings and a white T-shirt with a New York City taxi on the front (Emira couldn’t have put her in cuter jammies?), Briar stepped back from Bella and revealed her two front teeth in confusion. She looked up at Alix with a face that said, Do I know this person? then looked back at Emira with, Do I really have to do this?
“They haven’t been upstairs yet, Bri,” Emira said. “You gotta show ’em around.”
Bella was the first to hit the stairs and Briar followed. Laney, Ramona, and Suzanne said hello to Emira (Laney added how it was nice to see her again) as they followed the children up to the kitchen. Alix put her hand on the railing and called, “I’ll be up in just a minute.”
Emira placed her phone in her jacket pocket. There had been no text messages on it when Alix returned. Just a song called “Shawty Is Da Shit.” Emira took her bag off the wall, removed her white LetHer Speak polo, and hung it where her bag had been.
“I can take that.” Alix reached for it. “I’m washing everything this weekend. But Emira . . .” she said, “I feel bad about you and Bri missing ballet today.”
There was a chance that this wasn’t the thing bothering Emira at all. She had a life and family and friends of her own. But Alix told herself that she would never regret covering her bases with Emira. She’d never be sorry for apologizing.
Emira shook her head and made a face that implied she’d almost forgotten. “Oh, it’s cool. You were right. She didn’t remember.”
Alix reached up to her head and adjusted her blond bun. “Just to be clear . . . I want you and Briar to do fun things together. And I definitely know how tedious children’s things can be, so if you ever want to mix things up, just let me know. If there’s a movie or a carnival or whatever it is . . . say the word and I’ll leave money for you guys to change it up.”
Emira placed her fingertips against the wall and held her balance as she stepped into her shoes. “Okay. That sounds good.”
Upstairs, after a pop of champagne, Suzanne said, “Oof! I hate doing that.” Laney was telling her daughter, “I don’t know, sweetheart, we’ll have to ask Mrs. Chamberlain when she comes back up,” and Briar was explaining to Ramona that her fish had chicken pox on its tail. Alix glanced toward the purses and jackets left on the hooks, the ones belonging to her guests. Behind a camel-colored Coach purse was a velour black jacket. In cursive white and pink letters on the back was written, Plank Now, Wine Later. There was something about this sentiment, and the pink rhinestone letters it came in, that made Alix realize that Bella Thacker and Emira were the only people to call her Mrs. Chamberlain, despite the permission she’d given them to do otherwise.
“Are you doing anything fun tonight?” she asked Emira.
“Just like”—Emira released her hair from the inside of her leather jacket—“hanging out at my friend Shaunie’s.”
For a moment, Alix felt betrayed by Emira’s cell phone. These were the first plans Emira had in the last month that Alix hadn’t known about before she pretended that she didn’t. She watched Emira’s black, chipped nails feel for the doorknob.
“I’m sure Zara’s included.”
“Yep. She is.”
“Tell her I said hi.”
“Okay, I will.” Emira stood still. The two women stared at each other in the tiny atrium, until Emira pointed at the envelope in Alix’s back pocket. “Is that for me?”
“Oh God, yes. I’m sorry.” Alix reached for it as she shook her head. “Been a long week.”
Emira accepted the envelope and stuffed it deep into her bag. “That’s cool. Okay. See you.”
As she stepped onto the stoop stairs, Emira waved four fingers. Alix couldn’t bring herself to shut the door behind her. Upstairs, someone said, “It’s wine o’clock!” and someone else said, “Ladies’ night!” Alix looked at the back of Emira’s head, her fingers securing her earbuds in place, and sh
e thought to herself, Mira, please don’t leave me.
Ten
Between Emira’s fourth and fifth knock, Shaunie’s apartment door flung open and Emira jumped back. With her hands in fists at her collarbones, Shaunie hopped in place and screamed, “I got it I got it I got it!”
Shaunie’s hair bounced and coiled around her face and across her open mouth. From the couch, Zara raised both of her hands and cheered, “Shau-nie, Shau-nie . . .” In a gray sweatshirt that read BU on the front, Josefa looked up from the grilled cheese she was making and said, “Heeyyy.”
Emira stepped inside. “Hold up . . . you got what?”
“You are looking at . . .” Shaunie stepped into the living room as Emira set her purse on the kitchen counter. “The newest associate marketing specialist at Sony Philadelphia.”
Emira blinked. “No waayy.”
“Mira, I get my own office.” Shaunie gripped onto the back of her neck, seemingly keeping her body from floating off the floor. She was still in work clothes—a gray pencil skirt and a baby blue button-down—the kind of clothing that Emira had once thought she’d definitely wear in adulthood. “It’s 52K a year,” Shaunie said, “and I get my own fucking office. Well, I share it with this other girl, but still!”
“Oh shit.” Emira tried to make her face go into something that hopefully resembled joy. “That’s amazing.” Shaunie didn’t notice her struggle. She was beginning to dance against the side of the couch.
“Go, Shaunie. It’s your birthday.” In dark blue scrubs, Zara started singing about Shaunie’s new achievements. Shaunie dipped with her hands on her knees, and echoed each new triumph with, “Ayyeee.”
“She got a new job.”
“Ayyeee.”
“She got an office.”
“Ayyeee.”
“401(k).”
“Ayyeee.”