“I’m guessing finance,” Ron says.
The Fancy house is impressive. It takes up what looks like two standard-sized lots and has two driveways. That’s a lot even for Overland Park.
I look down at what I’m wearing. I have abandoned the mom uniform for tonight and gone with a black sleeveless silk top, black skirt, and some ridiculous black heels that Laura made me buy when we were Black Friday shopping. I thought all black would help me blend in, but now I’m wondering if I should have worn my wedding dress. It’s the fanciest thing I own.
“I’ve always wanted to see the inside of this house,” Ron muses as we park on the street.
“You’ve seen it before?” I’m surprised.
“Cindy’s parents live a block away. I used to take a lot of walks in the neighborhood to escape the insanity. I remember when they were just building this place.”
“Who owned it back then?” I ask.
“Some AT&T bigwig.” Ron shrugs.
“Oh, God,” I sigh. “We should have brought a nicer bottle of wine.”
* * *
By the time we get up to the door, we have gained two more couples—Kim and Carol Alexander and the hunky dad with his loaded wife from curriculum night, Jean-Luc and Mary Jo Baton. I have no proof yet that he married her to get his green card, but I hope to by the end of the evening.
We all nod and smile hello; Kim rings the doorbell, which chimes out “We Three Kings.”
A twenty-something man opens the door wearing a crisp white shirt with a black bow tie and black pants.
“Merry Christmas. Welcome. May I take your coats?” he asks without a trace of a smile.
We walk into a foyer that is almost as big as my living room. The ceilings have to be sixteen feet high. There are tasteful Christmas decorations decking the halls. You know the kind: white lights and tree boughs. No blow-up Santa for the Fancys. I feel like I’ve walked onto the set of a very classy holiday movie. Or a Pottery Barn photo shoot.
We unload our outer things on the unsmiling doorman and I look for a place to put the wine I have brought. I see a table laden with colorfully wrapped wine bottles, so I add ours to the pack with a sigh.
As we walk from the foyer into the living room, another guy in a bow tie offers us champagne and says, “Be sure to stop by the library to see the jewelry.”
Ron grabs two glasses and hands me one.
“What jewelry?” he asks me.
“No idea,” I say, and swallow my drink in one gulp.
“Slow down, slugger. It’s a long night,” Ron warns me with a smile.
“Champagne has no effect on me,” I assure him. “I could drink twenty of these.”
“I know for a fact that’s not true.” Ron hands me his champagne. “But I’m going to enable you just this once, because I know you don’t really want to be here.”
We walk into a gorgeously spread-out living room with a roaring fireplace at one end and lots of comfortable seating. In the middle of the room is a large wooden table overflowing with cheeses and breads and olives and vegetables, all placed around a beautiful wreath. Again, very catalogue-like.
The living room is crowded with people I know and some I don’t, milling around taking in the general splendor of their surroundings. Yet another bow tie walks up to us with a large platter of shrimp.
“Shrimp? Have you visited the jewelry in the library?” He smiles and walks away.
“They must have some jewelry collection,” Ron notes. “I’ll bet they have security in there, too. Want to take a look?”
I nod, still chewing my shrimp.
As we wander toward what might or might not be the library, I scan the room for Peetsa and Buddy. Suddenly, I lock eyes with Dr. Evil. She looks incredibly skinny in a tight black dress with long sleeves and a high neck. Hanging from her ears are gorgeous drop earrings made of black pearls and diamonds. She is walking over to us with her husband, the dashing David, who looks every inch the master of the house in a burgundy velvet jacket and black pants.
“Jen. How great that you came. Thank you so much for organizing this party.”
Is she kidding?
“Kim, this is my husband, Ron. Ron, Kim and David are our hosts.”
The men shake hands and then David leans in to kiss me on the cheek. I’m not expecting it so it turns into an awkward kiss on the mouth.
“Oh, hi, um … We were just admiring your beautiful home.”
“Amazing what a million dollars will get you out here in the sticks, isn’t it?” She smiles with everything but her eyes.
David looks like Max does when being forced to say thank you. “Have you seen the jewelry yet?”
“No. We keep hearing about it, but we haven’t made our way to the library yet.” David nods and walks away. His attention has been drawn just over my shoulder. So has Dr. Evil’s.
I turn to see what is so interesting and am just in time to take in the impressive sight of Miss Ward showing off her curves in a slinky red dress.
Wow. This is by far the hottest outfit I have ever seen her wear. The dress is knee length and tight, with triangle sections cut out around her waist and a V going down the back. Cindy Crawford in her heyday wouldn’t have been able to pull this off. Her blond hair is long and loose around her shoulders.
“Jen, did you invite Peggy?” Dr. Evil asks me.
“No. I just sent the email to the class. Maybe one of the moms told her about it.”
“Or one of the dads.” Ron grins widely in Miss Ward’s general direction.
Dr. Evil turns a polite death glare on him.
“Did you do it, Ron?”
Ron looks at me, and I can tell he’s a little scared. His mouth says no, but only a weird squeak comes out. I feel bad for him, but I’m also secretly glad he is getting the full Fancy. I know he thinks I’m just exaggerating half the time, and of course I am, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t some truth in there. Just because they think you’re crazy, it doesn’t mean you’re nuts. Put that on my gravestone.
I grab Ron’s hand and steer him away from our hostess.
“Why would she care if Miss Ward is here?” Ron whispers.
“No idea.” I finish another glass of champagne and look for the refill bow tie.
We mill through the living room for the next hour or so, talking to parents as we go. Asami Chang is all smiles for a change. Maybe she’s enjoying the champagne, too. Ravital Brown runs up to me with her husband in tow.
“Jen, I want my husband to meet you. Rob, this is the woman who writes the crazy emails.”
Rob shakes my hand.
“Wow, you really had my wife confused that first day. I had to talk her out of calling the principal.” He smiles.
“But now I get it!” Ravital says triumphantly. “I know it’s all a joke.”
“Well, not all of it, I hope!” I laugh along with them.
I introduce them to Ron and they immediately start a conversation about their respective jobs. I tune them out and look around.
It’s an impressive turnout. The Westmans are here, and I can’t help but wonder if Jackie brought cups. I see the Elders, the Wolffes, and the Kaplans as I scan the room. I am curious whether Sasha Lewicki is here, but then, I wouldn’t know even if she were standing right in front of me, since I have never seen her.
Everyone really cleans up nicely, especially Suchafox, whom I spy across the room. He has traded in his jeans for a black suit and tie. I’m surprised when I see him making his way over to me and giving me the old once-over. I feel myself blushing from head to toe.
“You look so pretty,” he says, and kisses my cheek. Immediately I feel like I’m cheating on Ron. I don’t want him to think anything is going on, but why would he? David Fancy kissed me on the lips, and my husband didn’t even blink. My silly crush is giving me a guilty conscience.
“Hey, there. Where’s Ali?” I ask, as though she’s the one I really want to see.
He shrugs. “I guess she didn’t come.”
I grab my sixth glass of champagne from a roving bow tie and finally ask Don the question that has been burning in my mind since curriculum night.
“Are you guys not together?”
“Here you are!” Ron comes to stand beside me, with what can only be described as the worst timing ever.
“Hey there. I’m Ron Dixon.” He sticks his hand out to shake Don’s.
“Don Burgess. Nice to meet you.” Killer smile.
“Oh, right, the high school crush!” Ron says, and my mind flashes to all the ways I’m going to murder him later. What would possess him to say that out loud?
“Really?” Don raises his eyebrows at me. “I had no idea.”
“One of many.” I assure him. I’m guessing I’m as red as Miss Ward’s dress by now.
“Did you tell him about the P.E. laundry room?” Don jokes.
“What do you think?” I ask; then we both crack up. Not that anything hilarious happened in there, but I guess the champagne is kicking in.
“What happened in the P.E. laundry room?” Ron isn’t laughing.
“Long story, sweetie. I’ll tell you later.”
“So, is your wife here?” Ron asks.
“We’re not married, but no, Lulu’s mom isn’t here.”
Ron nods. “I’ve been there. Divorce sucks.”
“We were never married,” Don offers up.
“Oh, sorry, man. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“No worries. It’s all good.”
Wow. Thanks to my husband, I know more than I ever would have had the guts to find out on my own. Ron makes a great wingman.
While we’re chatting, I start to notice people walking around with small gold shopping bags. Ooh! I love me a gift bag. I’m guessing whatever is in there is more expensive than the wine we brought. I see Peetsa with one.
“What’d you get?” I ask, with only a bit of a slur.
“A necklace.” She sighs. “I think I’ll give it to my mother. Did you buy something?”
“Buy something?” I ask.
“Some jewelry. They’re selling it in the library.”
“Who is ‘they’?” I ask, making a beeline for the next room. Peetsa and Ron trail after me.
As I walk into the library, I can’t believe my eyes. There are two large tables of jewelry—earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings all nicely displayed. JJ Aikens is behind the tables with another woman I don’t know, and they are working diligently to keep the sales going.
I try to put the pieces together using my inebriated brain. Kim Fancy pushes me to have a parents’ cocktail party. She is eager to host it, but doesn’t want to send out the invites. I send out the invites, which makes it look like I asked her to host it. We all get here, and she’s pushing jewelry? I did not see this coming.
I walk up and stand beside Shirleen Cobb, who’s trying on earrings.
“Those look pretty,” I offer.
“Well, they should be for the price. Good lord.” She takes them off and looks me up and down. “I thought this was a Christmas party, not a shakedown.”
As she stomps away, I see JJ out of the corner of my eye.
“Hey, JJ. Where did all this stuff come from?”
“Oh, hi, Jen. Didn’t think you were coming. This stuff is jewelry designed by Kim’s friend Delia from Manhattan.”
Someone hands me another glass of champagne. It’s Ron.
“Say something nice,” he whispers in my ear. I ignore him.
“How much are these earrings?” I hold up the pair Shirleen was so disgusted by. They are gold disk clip-ons.
“Those are two hundred and seventy-five dollars.”
“Are they real gold?”
“Gold plated.” She smiles. “Aren’t they gorgeous? You would look great in those.” She looks at Ron. “Are you Jen’s husband? You should totally get her those for Christmas.”
“Umm” is all Ron can think of to say.
“Really. You should. And you can even say you got them in Manhattan, because technically that’s where they’re from.” JJ is working hard for what I’m sure is some sort of commission.
Just then we hear a loud crash from the other room. I hand JJ the earrings, and Ron and I hurry toward the noise. We are greeted by the sight of Nancy Fancy in her pajamas sitting on the floor with the Christmas wreath centerpiece and some cheese and bread around her. Kim Fancy glides over from the other side of the room.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I just wanted a piece of cheese.”
Kim looks up at her guests with an embarrassed smile.
“Sorry, everyone. It seems Nancy still needs to learn how to ask for a snack.”
There is some light laughter and then, out of nowhere, Miss Ward comes sprinting across the room like a streak of red paint.
“Oh, my goodness, sweetie, are you okay?” She kneels down beside the very embarrassed little girl.
“I’m okay,” Nancy says in a tiny voice.
“Well, let me check you all over.” Miss Ward starts to tickle Nancy, who starts to giggle.
“Thanks, Miss Ward,” she says, and then gives her a hug.
“Awww,” sings the Greek chorus of parents standing around.
Kim steps in, gives Miss Ward a strained smile, and helps Nancy get up. She whispers something in the little girl’s ear that makes her nod and scoot out of the room.
“And that’s our show for tonight,” Kim says with a smile that once again doesn’t reach her eyes.
I turn to Ron, who’s staring at Miss Ward with a frown.
“What?”
“I might be crazy, but wasn’t the V in the back of her dress?”
I look at Miss Ward, who is just getting herself off the floor and showing some impressive cleavage.
“Why, I believe you are correct, Mr. Observant.”
Peetsa and Buddy join us as people get back to their conversations.
“Wasn’t the V down the back of her dress earlier?” Buddy asks Ron.
“I said the same thing.” Ron laughs, and they high-five.
“Really, guys?” I roll my eyes. “Buddy, close your eyes. What color are my pants?”
“Uh, black?” He blushes.
“I’m wearing a skirt.”
“You have to admit it’s kind of weird,” Peetsa says. “Why would she turn her dress around?”
“Why does she do anything?” I’m frustrated and a little off balance from the champagne.
“Maybe someone took it off for her,” Buddy mumbles to Ron and they high-five again. I take this as a sign that it’s time to go home. I really want to take my pantyhose off.
“I’m going to pee and then we should get out of here before I say something I’m going to regret.”
I’m not on the sturdiest of legs as I walk toward the foyer powder room, which I had noticed on the way in. I open the door and find Don Burgess zipping up his pants.
“Whoops, sorry.” As I turn to back out, I trip on my heels and fall sideways toward Don. He grabs me with both arms.
“Wow, you’re really falling for me,” he jokes.
He stands me back upright, but doesn’t let go. Either he doesn’t think I can stand up on my own or he’s enjoying this mini embrace as much as I am. For a moment we stand face to face and that urge to kiss him rears its ugly head again. But this time I feel the pull from him as well. The energy between us is heady—or maybe that’s the Polo. Oh, my God, is this really going to happen?
“Everything okay?” Ron is standing looking at what I can imagine is a very compromising situation.
“You bet,” Don answers quickly. “Jen tripped and I was just helping her steady herself.”
He gives my arms a squeeze and lets me go. Ron walks right between us and takes my arm.
“Thanks, man, I’ve got her.”
Don gives us a thumbs-up and walks back toward the foyer.
“Are you okay?” Ron’s raised eyebrow tells me he’s not pleased.
>
“I still have to pee,” I admit. At the same time I take off my heels and hand them to him.
“Here, hold these so I don’t fall again.”
He takes the shoes, points me in the direction of the bathroom, and closes the door. I hike up my skirt, sit down, and take the whiz of a lifetime.
“Holy shit holy shit holy shit,” I whisper to myself. Did that really just happen? I start to giggle. Suddenly I’m seventeen all over again and thrilled that Suchafox just spoke to me. This is too much for my inebriated brain to process. I flush, turn to the sink, and splash cold water on my face. One look in the mirror tells me that my waterproof mascara is actually not. I have two lovely black tears streaking down my cheeks.
“Crap.” I grab one of the fancy towels and do my best to clean up my face. I really need to go home.
Heading out to the foyer, I see Ron, Peetsa, Buddy, and Don chatting with their coats on. Ron is holding mine plus my shoes.
“Feel better?” he asks, helping me into my coat.
I don’t say anything, but I smile and put my arm through his. We say our good nights and I manage to escape without making eye contact with Don.
* * *
I’m trying to find the words to describe how I feel. It’s like someone has stuffed a wool sock in my mouth and pulled a rubber glove over my head. Ugh. Champagne hangovers are the worst. Why do I always forget that?
As I attempt to get up the courage to roll out of bed and relieve my bladder, the door bursts open and Ron and Max come charging in.
“Good afternoon, Mommy!” Ron sings at the top of his lungs.
Max jumps up to give me a crushing hug.
“Mom, you slept for so long! It’s already lunchtime.”
My stomach starts to turn at the thought of food. Ron hands me a giant cup of coffee.
“I put a little hair of the dog in there for you.” He smiles and sits on the bed.
The thought of putting more alcohol into my system makes me want to throw up, but I give him a grateful smile.
“You put dog hair in Mom’s coffee? Where did you get it from? Wait, are we getting a dog?” Max screams the last part, and my head nearly splits in two. Oh, my God, is this going to be a long day.
“No dog, sorry, champ. Let’s let Mom get dressed and we can go pick up lunch, okay?” Ron starts to pull him off the bed.
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