Totlandia: Winter

by Josie Brown

  “Someday you’ll get used to it,” Ally murmured, as she took Zoe back toward the front of the store.

  Just then, she saw Jillian jogging by with the girls. She tapped the window. Jillian stopped, gulped down some deep breaths, and maneuvered Addison and Amelia’s carriage into the store.

  Only to come face-to-face with Victoria.

  Scott’s whore!

  “What are you doing here?” they both gasped simultaneously.

  Ally looked from one to the other.

  “I see you’re already spending my money on Scott’s bastard,” Jillian hissed.

  Victoria shook her head. “It’s not your money. Or his, for that matter. Unlike you, I work, remember?”

  “Don’t act so superior. I worked to get him through college and his MBA. And now I’m working because of his asinine claim that the girls aren’t his.”

  “Hey, you have only yourself to blame. You’re the one who came onto his brother.”

  “I did no such thing! He’s just trying to get out of paying child support.”

  “It’s your word against Jeff’s. In the meantime, if I were you, I’d save whatever tips you’re making at that waitressing gig.”

  The shopgirl had just come out of the back room with an array of sweaters when Jillian backhanded Victoria across the face.

  The arguing already had Zoe, Amelia, and Addison fascinated. The smack, though, had frightened them to tears.

  “Call the cops,” Victoria shouted angrily to the stunned sales clerk. “I’m pressing charges!”

  With all her might, Ally grabbed Jillian by the arm and pulled her out the door, along with the carriage that held her crying babies.

  ***

  They ran all the way to the Marina library before they stopped. Once they were inside the children’s section and had settled the girls in front of a slew of picture books and Legos, Ally whispered, “Okay, now will you please tell me what that was all about?”

  Jillian ducked behind a low bookcase so that the girls couldn’t see her sobbing. “I shouldn’t.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re friends, remember?”

  Jillian nodded shyly.

  Ally knew what she was thinking. “We’re not competitors. This is real life, not some silly club filled with ridiculous rules.”

  Jillian’s relief came out in a strangled sob. “Scott…left me…for her. She works in his office. And now she’s pregnant with his son.”

  “That son of a bitch!”

  “Shhhhh,” a librarian whispered, then she motioned toward the toddlers, who were laughing as their blocks came tumbling down.

  Ally waved, acknowledging the librarian. “He’s quite a piece of work,” she murmured.

  Jillian nodded. “To top it off, he’s claiming the girls aren’t his, but his brother’s.”

  “Oh my God!” Ally’s eyes opened wide. Her squeak was loud enough to draw another grimace from the librarian, whom she gave a thumbs-up. “But how could that be?”

  “It can’t. All we did was kiss. A DNA test will prove it. But in the meantime, he’s trying to starve us to death.”

  “Hey, if you need a meal, you’re always welcome at our place. Amelia and Addison are Zoe’s two closest friends.”

  Jillian patted her shoulder in thanks. “I may take you up on that. If I do, I’ll make it worth your while. I’m more than a decent cook.”

  “That’s good, because I can barely boil water!”

  Jillian suppressed a giggle. “I guess you and your husband must do a lot of takeout.”

  Ally’s grin faded. “I’m a single mom, too. And I work.”

  “Get out of here!”

  The librarian stood up. “Ladies, puh-leeeze!”

  They both nodded at her, then whispered in unison, “Sorry!”

  Ally waited until the woman sat back down, then added, “Zoe’s sperm donor has been my best friend since high school. In fact, Barry lives next door with his partner, Christian. I just never found the right guy to settle down with, and I was working so hard. But I just sold my company, and re-arranged my hours so that I go in on the days we don’t have our meet-ups.”

  Jillian sat silently for a moment. Finally, she whispered, “You know, you didn’t have to tell me all that.”

  “Why not?” Ally shrugged. “I trust you. If you’d found out my secret, you’d do the same for me—keep quiet.”

  “That’s what Lorna said.”

  “So Lorna knows that you work?”

  Jillian nodded. “She knows everything. She found out last week, by mistake— when she showed up at the restaurant where I work—with Bettina no less.”

  “No way! With Bettina?” Ally’s shock took her squeal into a crescendo.

  “Ladies, I think you’ve outstayed your welcome!”

  Ally and Jillian were still laughing as they wheeled the girls down Chestnut to The Grove for a cup of coffee.

  Chapter 8

  Friday, 16 November

  10:41 a.m.

  Barry’s call to Ally came in the middle of the PHM&T meet-up at a puppet show that had been arranged by one of the Legacy mothers. Although it was forbidden to answer your cell phone during a play date, Ally grabbed Zoe and snuck off to the ladies’ room.

  “Ally, sweets, how pissed will you be if Christian and I join Ramona and Fred in Hana for Thanksgiving?”

  “But you’re Zoe’s family! And Thanksgiving is a family tradition.”

  He sighed. “Before ‘we’ were a family, Hana had always been Christian’s tradition with his mother and father, and they were miffed that Christian and I cancelled on them last year, after Zoe was born.”

  “But—that means Zoe and I will starve! You know that!”

  “No problem. I’ll leave you my turkey recipe. And Christian’s stuffing.”

  “What about the sweet potato soufflé? Oh my God, you better write it down for me. That’s what I’m supposed to bring to the club’s after-Thanksgiving potluck. That…and you.”

  Barry’s groan was so loud that she had to hold the phone away from her ear. “You can tell them I’m sick, okay?”

  “Yeah. Sunstroke.”

  “Aw, puddin’, are you really that upset about us going? You know his parents won’t be around forever.”

  “I know. I’m being silly. And selfish. And I’m feeling lonely.”

  “You need a man. That would solve all your problems.”

  He was probably right. But the one man who was too obviously flirting with her was already taken, whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not. Brady Pierce may be cute, smart, and, in reality, single, but he already had one woman head over heels in love with him. And Jade was determined to win him back. Ally could tell by the way she lit up every time he was around.

  And Ally liked her too much to stand in her way.

  She could hear the clapping and squeals of the other mothers and toddlers. Apparently, the show was over.

  11:33 a.m.

  “I’d invite you over to my place for Thanksgiving, but my oven is on the fritz,” Jillian opined. “I can’t afford to get it fixed. Not yet, anyway.”

  After the puppet show, the Probationary Onesies had commandeered the bench closest to the sand box at Lafayette Park. It was unseasonably warm for mid-November, and the park was filled with club members and other mothers who all had the same idea.

  “Since you’re both flying solo for Thanksgiving, why don’t you come eat with us?”

  Jillian and Ally turned at the sound of Jade’s voice. Jillian shook her head in wonder. “‘Us?’ You mean, you and Brady?”

  “Of course, silly!” Jade said as she dropped Oliver beside Dante in the sandbox. “Who else would I mean? It would be a blast! We’ve got a great big kitchen and we barely ever use it. Brady won’t mind at all.”

  Ally turned quickly, so no one would notice the flush in her cheeks. She was just going to say something to put the kibosh on Jade’s offer when Jillian piped up. “Wow, that’s great—but only if you le
t us bring a dish or two. That way, all you’ll have to bother with is the turkey. Oh! And if you don’t mind, I’ll get there early so that I can toss my pies in the oven before you roast the turkey.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Jade shrugged. She’d never cooked a turkey. In fact, she didn’t cook at all. But seriously, how hard could it be to put a turkey in a pan and stick it in the oven? Besides, with a house full of people, Brady couldn’t make other plans that would take him and Oliver away from her.

  “I’ve got a great stuffing recipe,” Lorna said.

  Everyone looked over at her, surprised. Jade’s smile got wider. “So, you won’t be spending Thanksgiving with family, either?”

  Lorna shook her head. “Not this year. I’m ready for a change.”

  “Great! Par-TAY!” Jade pumped the air with her fist. “Even if Barry and Scott can’t be there, I know Brady can’t wait to meet Matt.”

  Ah yes, Matthew, Lorna thought. He’ll be upset to hear that Dante and I are skipping Thanksgiving with Eleanor, but I don’t care. He’ll just have to understand.

  She glanced around. Thank goodness Kelly was on the other side of the park and hadn’t heard the conversation. If she wasn’t clinging to Lorna, she was ingratiating herself to the Legacy Onesies.

  Obviously she’s covering her bets, thought Lorna. She’ll be relieved when she finds out I’m the one with the lousy odds.

  1:33 p.m.

  “You’re not serious, are you? About skipping out on Thanksgiving?” Matt stared at Lorna as if she’d grown horns on her head.

  She’d waited until Dante was napping to break the news to Matt. “Yes, I am. We always do the same thing—the house at Stinson Beach with your family. Why don’t we do something different, just this once? We see them all the time.”

  “How can you say that? We haven’t seen any of them since Dante’s fall! Didn’t you say that the doctor felt he was fine? So why are you still upset over this? I don’t get it.”

  “It has nothing to do with Dante’s fall. I’m at the point where I’ll blow a gasket if I’m stuck out at the beach with Bettina and Art and Lily for a four-day weekend.”

  Matt laughed. “Don’t you think Mother will feel the same way if we aren’t there for her? Seriously, Lorn, if you’re over Bettina, then quit competing with her. Like joining her stupid club.”

  She wrapped her arms around Matt’s waist. “Why? So she can say she chased me away? Forget about it. Besides, I’m making some very nice friends. You’ll enjoy them, too. You’ll see. On Thanksgiving.”

  He sighed. “Okay, but since you want out, you have to break the news to Mother.”

  “She’ll hate it coming from me!”

  “Too bad. And we both know that she’ll hate it no matter whom it comes from. She misses Dante.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell her. In fact, I’ll take Dante over to see her this afternoon.”

  3:36 p.m.

  “Do you hate me, Lorna?”

  Eleanor’s question contained no dread or malice, just curiosity. After Lorna had broken the news to her that they’d made other plans for Thanksgiving, Eleanor had plopped Dante in the electronic swing she kept for him in her kitchen so she could pour tea for Lorna and herself.

  What a difference a few hours made. Outside the kitchen window, the bay was anything but calm, as it was only that morning. Now, breathy November winds were whipping waves into rows of dark, stiff peaks and shoving the downy clouds across the sapphire sky.

  It was chillier still in the kitchen. Or, at least, if felt that way to Lorna.

  “Of course I don’t hate you.” Lorna stopped to consider what to say next. She knew she’d have to choose her words carefully. “I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing.”

  “Lorna, let’s put our cards on the table, shall we?” Eleanor dabbed her mouth gently with her linen napkin. “I didn’t make it a secret that I thought Matt was marrying beneath him. I cold-shouldered you every chance I got. My current civility allows me access to my grandson. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be allowed to see him.”

  “Wait! I never said you couldn’t see Dante.”

  Eleanor’s smile was sad. “I never said you did. Matt made it quite clear to me that I was acting in an odious manner, not only to his son’s mother but to the woman he loves more than anyone in the world.”

  “Matt…said that about me? To you?”

  “Yes. And he was right. I can be odious to those I feel aren’t up to snuff. As can Bettina. So they’re right when they say that the apple does not fall far from the tree.” Despite the fact that her cup was still full, she pushed it away. “In the meantime, I’ve changed my mind about you. You love Matt as much as he adores you. It’s obvious to anyone who sees you both together. And there’s no doubt about it, the two of you do make beautiful babies.” She gave her grandson a loving glance. “Matt is a handsome man, but he’ll never be half the businessman his father was. And George wasn’t half as smart about money as George the First. I guess future generations will see diminishing returns unless Dante is the exception to that rule. With Matt’s looks and your brains, I’m willing to bet on that. In all honesty, I couldn’t have said that if Matt had married any one of the well-placed airheads I had in mind for him.”

  Lorna opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. As gratifying as it was to hear that Eleanor had finally accepted her into the family, what could she say in return? Should she confirm Eleanor’s declaration about Matt being no more than a dreamer and a schemer? Or point out that her own behavior toward Lorna had granted tacit approval for Bettina’s cruelty toward her? Or should she break the news to Eleanor as to why she shouldn’t pin her hopes on Dante burnishing the family name to its once shiny gold patina?

  No, no, no. She couldn’t divulge Dante’s problem to Eleanor. It would crush her. Besides, Matt didn’t even know about it as of yet. Maybe if she acquiesced about Thanksgiving, Eleanor would know she was at least trying to let bygones be bygones.

  Almost as if reading Lorna’s mind, Eleanor said, “Don’t worry about joining the family at Stinson. Frankly, without Dante there, it will allow me more cuddle time with Lily. She so desperately needs it, what with the way Bettina drives her so hard. And what for?”

  To please you, Lorna thought.

  But honesty isn’t always appreciated in a truce, so again she thought it wise to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she picked up Dante and started the arduous task of wrestling him into his coat. She had been given a reprieve. She would wait until after the holidays to tell Matt and his family the truth about Dante.

  It may be the last happy holiday we have, she thought sadly.

  “Oh and, Lorna, before you leave, could you write down your recipe for that sage sausage stuffing? Mine is just as dry as Bettina’s. Not that I’d say that to her. Have you seen how sensitive she’s been lately? She is certainly wound a tick too tight.”

  Chapter 9

  Monday, 19 November

  Everyone in the club was thrilled that Jade had chosen the Monday prior to Thanksgiving for PHM&T’s trip to the pumpkin patch and corn maze. Lorna, Ally, Jillian and she squeezed themselves and their children into Jade’s large SUV, which led the caravan up to Petaluma, an hour north of the city, where the hills unraveled broad beige mounds under electric blue skies.

  For the most part, the toddlers and their parents trampled through the acre-long row of pumpkins in search of the perfect gourd to grace their doorways or Thanksgiving table. It was Bettina’s idea that the Fivesies line up first for their pony rides.

  The decision was met with a storm of protests from the Foursies and Threesies mothers. One Threesie mom had the audacity to look Bettina in the eye as she groused, “But that’s not fair! The pony rides are all my little Theodora has been talking about for the past week!” She pointed to the little girl, whose outfit—Jodhpur breeches, velvet show coat and cravat, and tiny helmet—easily reinforced her claim.

  Bettina sighed. “This isn’t The Price is Right. Th
e fact that she came in a costume does not automatically move her to the front of the line. So sorry, but seniority prevails.”

  So there was no mistaking her mandate, Bettina heaved Joanna’s five-year-old Chloe onto the pony and smacked the poor animal on its haunches to get it moving. Then she flexed her arm, as if it were sore. “This Thanksgiving, you may want to skip the pumpkin pie for Chloe, Joanna. ‘Pretty and plump’ might have been adorable at two, but at five, it’s downright criminal.”

  Chloe’s squeal of terror should have brought her mother to her side, but Joanna knew better than to leave Bettina when she was in the middle of a lecture. Instead, she prayed that a summer of equestrian camp (in fact, the same one Theodora attended) had given her daughter enough of a rider’s seat to hold on for dear life.

  ***

  Bettina’s admonishment had the desired effect. The groups dispersed to separate corners. The Threesies jumped on the hayride, while Foursies ran through the corn maze ahead of their mothers, whose shouts of caution were met with naughty giggles.

  By the time the Fivesies were done with their pony rides, it was snack time. Everyone was just tucking into the smorgasbord of grapes, strawberries, bananas, cheese cubes, crackers, tiny Roma tomatoes, baby carrots, and juice boxes that Jade had arranged on a gold and black plaid quilt when Bettina, who had been riding hard on the other mothers all day, looked up anxiously. “Where’s Lily?”

  Moms nearby grew silent and looked around. Lily was nowhere to be found.

  Kimberley went white. As the Foursies’ lead mom, it was her job to make sure everyone was accounted for on field trips.

  Especially Bettina’s child, whom Kimberley’s own daughter, Tallulah, swore was her Very Best Friend Forever and Ever and Ever.

  Kimberley grabbed Tallulah by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “Where is she? You two ran ahead when I called for you to stop! I know you heard me because I could hear you laughing!”