The anger she’d felt in the coffee shop reignited. Those flat eyes. The bullying. She wondered about Nadia’s psychologist. Would Dr. Martín prescribe medication? Would Teddy get worse? As she contemplated these questions, Lakes District Books, a small shop embedded in a strip mall between a Subway and one of those trendy wood-fired pizza places, appeared on her left. Alice veered into the parking lot.
“What are we doing?” Teddy asked, impatient. “It’s too early for lunch. I wanted to get home.”
“As if I’d buy you lunch,” Alice muttered as she roughly undid her seat belt.
“What?”
“You don’t need to get home,” she said, louder. “You’ll just be sitting in your room anyway.”
And then, a rage she’d never felt toward either of her children set fire to her limbs. She hurtled herself from the car and slammed the door shut hard behind her, her breath ragged. She kicked the front tire twice, the rubber satisfyingly firm against her leopard-print flats. After a few seconds of flailing, her embarrassment set in, and she scanned the vicinity for witnesses to her temper tantrum. A woman a few cars down gaped, and Alice attempted a smile. She started toward the bookstore, adrenaline pulsing in her quads and forearms.
Evelyn Brown
Evelyn told Alice she couldn’t take over for her until one o’clock on Monday, which left her time to have her regular lunch with Julienne. Alice was in crisis, yes, but Evelyn had a life, too. Evelyn had made so many detours around Alice over the years. She’d put her daughter first in nearly every decision, from the fate of her marriage to the trajectory of her career.
Of course, Evelyn was proud of both her relationship with her daughter and her role as an active grandmother. “Put in your time, but maintain boundaries,” she’d written in an article about balanced grandparenting for Psychology Today when Teddy was younger. She’d also written about the dangers of “competitive grandparenting,” the tendency to outdo the kids’ other set, but it wasn’t even a competition with Patrick’s parents. They lived in Indiana and sent twenty-dollar bills for holidays and birthdays. Evelyn, on the other hand, knew the children well enough to choose their most favorite gifts almost every time, no generic gift cards necessary.
And Patrick and Alice readily acknowledged that the Sullivans’ life wouldn’t even work if Evelyn weren’t so involved, if she didn’t show up with dinner once a week. Alice was adequately grateful. But Evelyn felt that she herself was ready for a shift. She’d spent countless sessions coaching clients on boundaries. She knew it was past time to enact her own, especially with the addition of Julienne to her daily life.
So, as Evelyn finished her morning class and her office hours, she started thinking about the prosciutto, pine nuts, and charred bread that came with the chopped salad she always ordered at Punch, the wood-fired pizza place she and Julienne had chosen when they’d first started doing these lunches. Both the food and the company were lovely—a highlight of Evelyn’s week and a reprieve before she hit the Tuesday grind, when she typically picked Adrian up from the elementary school and supervised both kids for homework.
Evelyn’s connection with Julienne had been easy from the start. They had so much in common, including their taste in food. Also, they had the same sturdy body type, the same hazelish eyes. People looking at them would assume they were related. Evelyn sometimes glanced around Punch and imagined other patrons thinking just that, that Evelyn and Julienne were mother and daughter. That familiar feeling and eating bread with olive oil and mozzarella? Mondays were Evelyn’s dream.
After the tense phone call last week when Julienne had pressed to meet Alice, Evelyn had worried that Julienne would cancel lunch. But when she had texted that morning, Julienne had responded with her usual “Looking forward to it.”
Evelyn arrived early. She placed their orders—she knew Julienne’s by heart now—and took a seat facing the window. She smiled to herself as she watched Julienne’s Acura turn into the shopping complex. Evelyn felt her arms warm with anticipation. She brought her palms together and rubbed them. She’d never take these moments of connection for granted. Evelyn could see Julienne’s golden hair swing over one shoulder as she parked in the same row she always chose, regardless of whether there were other, closer spaces available.
Just as Julienne exited her car and positioned her metallic cross-body purse over her shoulder, Evelyn saw Alice’s Volvo pull into the lot, too. No, she thought immediately. She looked closer, certain she had to be mistaken about Alice being the driver. What would Alice be doing in the shopping center midday on a Monday? But then she saw Teddy sitting next to her in the front seat, slumping down, his eyes staring blankly from the passenger window toward Punch. Evelyn’s first impulse was to duck, but she controlled herself. He’s not looking at you. As she parked, Alice turned toward Teddy, her face twisted and angry. Was she yelling?
Meanwhile, Julienne had begun her walk to the restaurant, just two car lengths in front of Alice. Evelyn’s heart thudded harder than it did when she forced herself to take the HIIT Over 50 class at the Elm Creek Y. Not twenty feet behind Julienne, Alice had flung herself out of her car and slammed the door. Evelyn rose to her feet. Julienne looked back toward Alice, reacting to the noise. Alice kicked her car like a toddler might, and then, when she realized she had an audience, raised a hand to Julienne to indicate that everything was okay. Everything was not okay, Evelyn could see. Alice shook with rage.
Evelyn held her breath. Punch, she knew, was one of Teddy’s favorite takeout places. Was Alice on her way inside? Evelyn considered hiding in the bathroom, but she couldn’t, not with her order number on the table. And not when Julienne had just seen her and waved through the window.
Evelyn tried to smile as she sat back down. This wasn’t how she’d planned it, the introduction of her daughters. Of course, Alice didn’t even know about the existence of Julienne yet. And once she’d told her, Evelyn had hoped the two of them would have coffee on their own, get to know each other without Evelyn micromanaging things. Sisters, Evelyn kept saying to herself when she thought of the two of them. She felt at once desperate for them to meet and terrified that it wouldn’t go well.
Julienne pulled Punch’s door open and Evelyn waved at her while keeping an eye on Alice through the glass front of the restaurant. Just when she was sure Alice was headed inside, she turned to the left.
She’s going to the bookstore, Evelyn realized as she collapsed back into her chair.
“Are you okay?” Julienne arrived at the table, blocking Evelyn’s view.
“I’m okay.” Evelyn felt weak, weak and disappointed in herself. “I ordered the usual,” she said, recovering her composure. “I hope that’s okay.”
Julienne leaned down and hugged Evelyn. Her daughter’s scent—a citrusy clean—calmed her.
“Sure you’re okay?” Julienne asked. “You look a little shaken.” She pulled back to look at Evelyn’s face.
Evelyn imagined herself in her office chair, imagined the weight of her session notebook on her lap. What would she advise herself to do in this moment? Honor your truth, she thought. “I’m just thinking it’s finally time to introduce you to the family,” she said. “I’m going to tell A about you tonight.”
Alice Sullivan
Alice smoothed her shirt as she opened the door to the bookshop. She marched to the information desk and cleared her throat to cue the older clerk. “Where’s the parenting section?” She tried to channel confidence, but her voice wavered. She hadn’t been in Lakes District Books in years, she realized, and guiltily remembered Aidy’s reading emergency. She didn’t even know what authors were popular with second graders.
The clerk opened his mouth to speak before he looked up at her, but stopped as he registered her appearance. I must look awful, Alice realized. Her headache had oozed down into her jaw, which throbbed. She felt a million years old. After the Starbucks disaster, she’d pulled her hair back
into a messy ponytail that didn’t match the crispness of her sweater and necklace.
The clerk pointed toward the back of the store. “It’s the last shelf between adult fiction and children’s.” Alice moved in the direction he’d indicated. The parenting books, she found, were arranged by stage. The baby books in the upper left focused on sleep, establishing a schedule, and the concept of attachment that had so seduced Alice as a young mother: the idea that she should strap Teddy to her chest and never leave him, not even for a millisecond.
Her mother had eventually thrown away that particular tome. “This isn’t helping you,” she’d said simply one afternoon when Teddy was no more than six weeks old and Alice had left the bathroom door open while she’d peed. Teddy was still festooned to her front. She had refused to let her mom hold him for even the time it took to relieve herself.
“My book says attachment is the most important thing!” Alice had shouted over the flush. But when she’d made it back to the living room, her mother had already grabbed the parenting book, walked outside, and thrown it in the recycling bin. Maybe that’s the problem, Alice thought. She’d given up on attachment.
Books about parenting teens were shelved in the lower right of the bookstore section, far away from those about the hopeful beginning.
“Finding everything okay?” Alice realized the clerk had followed her.
“I need a book that explains my seventh grader. He’s gone crazy.”
The clerk—Dan, his name tag read—looked bemused. “Is this a new thing, like a developmental thing? Or are you worried about mental illness? Because for that, we’d need the psychology section. Or”—he smiled at her—“an actual medical doctor.”
“I already called one.” Alice felt her voice choke and realized she was on the verge of tears again. “My son started junior high this year. But maybe I’ve been missing the signs.” Like every parent of a serial killer, she thought.
Dan squatted in front of the shelf and ran his finger along the books’ spines. He pulled out a few, and Alice scanned their titles as he dropped them on the floor in a pile. The Key to Boys, one was called. Reason and Righteousness, read another, the “Rs” in a formal serif font. Listen to Me: Transformative Parent-Child Conversations landed on top. Dan straightened his legs to peruse a higher shelf and pulled one more. “And this one was my personal favorite.” He smiled down at the cover where a tween boy nestled in the crook of his mother’s arm, grinning up at her. “It’s an old one. My kids are in their thirties now,” he said. “Kind of a classic.” Peace at Home, Alice read as Dan scooped the volumes from the floor and handed them to her.
Alice pushed them back at him. A tear dropped to her cheek, and she wanted to hug Dan for ignoring it. “I’ll take them,” she said. “I need all the help I can get.”
Meredith Yoshida
Now that Meredith had seen Mikaela Heffernan’s short shorts and outstretched middle finger on @SadeeLux, she was less excited that the girls spent a good eight to ten hours a week together at synchronized skating practice. She’d always thought of Mikaela as a solid, salt-of-the-earth type. She got good grades—at least her mother said she did—and she and Sadie wore matching hairstyles on competition days. Once last spring, Meredith and Grace Heffernan, Mikaela’s mom, had each French-braided thin purple ribbons into the girls’ pigtails to coordinate with the Elkettes’ competition dresses. Meredith had watched several YouTube hair tutorials to get the pigtails just right. She and Sadie had each cried a little, getting those braids in, but the photos of the girls had been adorable, nothing like what Meredith had seen on @SadeeLux.
Grace smiled at Meredith as she jogged up the stands at the skating rink on Monday night. Meredith scooted over, clearing a section of her stadium blanket.
“Hey, thanks.” Grace sat, and Meredith felt her smile falter. She wondered if she should tell Grace about the crotch shot. Wasn’t there some kind of mom code for that? Meredith blinked the images away and decided she wouldn’t tell Grace. If the photos had shown Mikaela vaping or nude? Then, Meredith thought, she’d have to report. But a flipped bird and a visible belly button? That was a gray area for sure.
“Did you hear about this debacle at school last week?” Grace launched in, her voice low. “Teddy Sullivan and Tane Lagerhead? Mikaela can’t shut up about it. And frankly, I’m shocked. Male anatomy onstage in middle school? As if we didn’t have enough to worry about.”
Meredith cocked her head. Mikaela can’t shut up about it? Sadie, on the other hand, had barely said anything. Meredith had heard all the details from Alice.
“Yeah,” Meredith said, noncommittal. “Seems like a bit of a mess. And have you seen the spray paint on NextDoor? The tags at Elm Creek Park?”
Grace rolled her eyes. “The penises?” she whispered. “Or rocket ships.” She giggled. “Do you think that’s related? What does Alice say?” Grace bumped against Meredith’s shoulder, leaning in. Meredith scanned the stands. She identified a few of the other skating parents by their pom-pom hats and jackets, but the rows were mostly empty. No one sat within earshot of Meredith and Grace. Most people didn’t bother to watch practice. Even Meredith tended to multitask during it. But she liked to keep tabs on the Elkettes, too, to see which girls were placed in the center for routines and which ones missed the required sequences.
“About Teddy?” Meredith stalled. She couldn’t very well spill all of the details from the wine bar. There was definitely a friend code for that.
“Of course!” Grace bumped her again, prodding. “Come on! You talk to Alice, like, every day, right? Is she freaking out?”
“Right.” Was Alice freaking out? She seemed on the verge for sure.
“So? Mikaela says it’s something about these hashtags? Some argument that happened in PE? It can’t be true that Sadie is involved, can it? I told Mikaela that didn’t sound right.”
Meredith scooted away from Grace, just a fraction of an inch. “Sadie is definitely not involved,” she said. Being friends with Teddy hardly implicated her daughter. Meredith stared at the ice. The girls moved haltingly into a block formation as their Ed Sheeran competition song blared in the background. They weren’t ready, Meredith thought, for a podium finish at next weekend’s debut. As if in punctuation to this assessment, Sadie under-rotated her half-loop and fell just then, throwing off the spacing of her entire row.
“Ouch,” Grace winced. “She’ll get it next time. But Mikaela says Sadie’s hashtag-Team-Tane. Have you heard that? I was surprised, since she’s been friends with Teddy since they were basically babies. Is Sadie dating Tane? I mean, it’s only seventh grade.”
Meredith put her hand on the cold metal bleacher beside her and clanked her wedding ring against the edge. Dating Tane? The kid with the nail polish? There’s no way. Meredith squinted at the ice. Sadie had pushed herself up and quickstepped back into formation. “Sadie’s not dating anyone.” Meredith hoped her voice sounded light. “And she’s certainly not responsible for Teddy Sullivan’s bad behavior.”
Meredith could see that Sadie had set her jaw. She glued her eyes to her coach’s face as she bent her knees for her crossovers. Sadie would fight for every landing, every connection for the rest of the hour’s practice. It was a trait Meredith adored in her daughter—her absolute commitment to excellence, especially after a mistake.
“Teddy and Sadie have been growing apart,” Meredith said as Sadie planted her toe for a spin.
“Really?” Grace put a light hand on Meredith’s wrist, and Meredith repressed a flinch. Grace’s curiosity irked her. Maybe she’d go wait in the car as soon as she could break away. She could pretend to have a phone call.
“It’s natural as the kids get older,” Meredith said. It was true, wasn’t it? Friendships changed over time. In fact, her friendship with Alice had changed. They were both busy with work and with their families, and more and more it seemed like they had different parenting philosop
hies. Alice had told them at the wine bar the other night that she didn’t know how to punish Teddy for the assembly stunt. Meredith thought it was obvious—take away all electronics and institute mandatory counseling. That was what Meredith and Bill would do, anyway. They’d put their heads together and nip it in the bud. Not that Sadie would ever do anything as egregious as pantsing someone onstage at school. “I don’t really know what’s going on with Alice,” Meredith said honestly. “She seems a little lost, right? So you can see that in Teddy’s behavior.”
Meredith felt a twinge of guilt as she glanced at Grace, whose eyes were trained on the team. Alice would die if she knew Meredith blamed her for Teddy’s mistake. The skating coach paused the music and put the girls through several spins. “Count!” Meredith could hear her yell as Sadie’s ponytail wheeled straight out from her head with the rotation.
“Hey!” Meredith brightened as she remembered her new endeavor. “I’m facilitating a discussion group at school as part of the parenting education series. It’s called Raising Ethical Teens. Can I count on you to attend? I know you care about stuff like that.” She thought of Mikaela’s bare midriff and her mascara. Grace, Meredith thought, could probably use a little refresher.
“Sounds fabulous,” Grace said. “Let me know how I can help.”
Evelyn Brown
A duo of open pizza boxes engulfed Alice’s counter that night. Evelyn had invited herself for dinner, offering to pick up the pies. She felt only slightly guilty that this would make two pizza meals in a row, two in the very same day. She deserved it, given her commitment to finally telling Alice the truth. She held on to the thought about the pizza, resisting the therapy voice reminding her that edible rewards were rarely productive or motivating. Instead, she imagined the spicy sausage on her tongue and the perfect chewy-crust chaser. The food fantasy kept her mind off Alice’s likely reaction to the forthcoming news about Julienne.
Are We There Yet? Page 8