Beach Lane Collection

by Melissa de la Cruz

  Madison looked at the two au pairs. She really wanted butter, but Mara was giving her such an encouraging look, she didn’t know what she wanted. It was Mara who had fixed the hair on her Barbies the other day, combing them until they weren’t tangled up anymore. She didn’t want to disappoint her.

  “No,” she replied, almost like a question.

  “Good girl, Mad.” Mara nodded. “Why don’t you buy your own bag?” she asked Eliza in a conciliatory tone.

  “Forget it.” Eliza frowned. She had already spent all her money and didn’t have a penny to her name till the next pay period.

  The lights dimmed, and the strains of the Walt Disney theme built to a crescendo.

  * * *

  While the kids were occupied with the movie, Eliza told Mara what had happened with Jeremy and her friends. “I swear, I totally didn’t mean for that to happen! I was just so shocked, you know?” Eliza said, wanting to be consoled so badly. “He means more to me than any of them put together.”

  Mara nodded. That was a pretty wretched picture Eliza had painted, but Mara could see it was tearing Eliza up. “I’m sure he’ll understand. You’re only human.”

  In hushed tones she then told Eliza about the scene with Jim and Ryan, complete with a strip poker play-by-play.

  “Jeez, what a jerk. I don’t even know why you stayed with that white trash Jim for so long,” Eliza said.

  Mara was taken aback. That was pretty harsh. Granted, she wanted sympathy, but calling her boyfriend white trash was stepping over the line. Sure, Jim wasn’t some heir to a brand-name fortune and he didn’t drive a fancy car, and fine, he couldn’t pronounce Quogue if his life depended on it, but he wasn’t that bad. A little dim, maybe, a little overprotective, yes. And very bad tempered when he was provoked. But white trash? Combined with Eliza’s callous comments the other night about Jeremy not “fitting in” with “this world,” Mara felt extremely insulted.

  “You really are a piece of work,” Mara said, glaring at Eliza.

  “Huh?”

  “You know, I felt really bad about what happened with you and Jeremy, but now I think maybe you just got what you deserved.”

  “Wait a minute . . .”

  “Here’s a piece of advice, Liza: maybe you should think about what you’re saying before you open your mouth,” Mara hissed, grabbing her bags.

  “Why? What the hell?” Eliza asked, mystified. It wasn’t like she had the best night either. C’mon, all her friends thought she was white trash now.

  “Because you know what’s really low class?” Mara asked, her color high and her voice defiant. “A total SNOB like you!”

  And with that, Mara left all four sugar-crazed kids for Eliza to deal with on her own.

  * * *

  Mara returned to the estate in time to see Jacqui saunter through the front door.

  “Where have you been all morning?” Mara demanded.

  “I was signing up the kids for the regatta competition down in Shelter Island. I thought they might enjoy it, and it’s the last day,” Jacqui explained.

  Oh. She was actually doing something nice and responsible for the kids for a change. But instead of putting Mara in a good mood, it just made Mara feel worse for neglecting the kids every so often in order to make googly eyes at their older brother.

  “Well, you could have told us,” she snapped.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Jacqui asked, a little hurt that Mara hadn’t even thanked her for the idea.

  “Nothing. Nothing. Just—can you just leave me alone?” Mara said.

  “Gladly,” Jacqui said.

  everything is getting progressively worse

  FOR THE FIRST TIME THE ENTIRE SUMMER, BOTH ANNA and Kevin actually showed up for the weekly progress report in the screening room. Anna was in a good mood. Her co-chairwomanship of Super Saturday was almost locked. She had found a designer with a massive amount of overstock who wanted to sell it all in a prime booth, and it was just a matter of time before the committee anointed her with the title.

  Mara and Eliza stumbled in late (projectile poo from the baby while getting his diaper changed had delayed their arrival) and were surprised and not too pleased that Jacqui of all people was sitting there, conversing pleasantly with their bosses as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  They took their usual seats, perplexed at the turn of events.

  “So, anyway, as I was saying, I just want to know how Zoë is keeping up with her reading. Has she moved on to the new Art Spiegelman?”

  “Uh, I’m not quite sure, Anna,” Eliza said brightly. “In fact, you should ask Jacqui since she’s been reading to her all summer.”

  “Yes, she’s completely engrossed in a book, I think it’s called Where in the World Is Carmen SanDiego?” Mara interrupted.

  Jacqui kicked Mara under the table.

  Anna beamed. “And Cody?”

  “Oh, we’ve almost cured him of the whole running-around-naked thing. We’re really setting a fine example that clothes are very, very important to one’s social development,” Eliza said, glaring at Mara.

  Kevin yawned. He was still picturing Jacqui naked below the decks on his Catalina.

  “As for Madison, she’s learning the value of telling the truth. Especially to her friends,” Mara said, returning Eliza’s icy stare.

  “And William? Is he taking his meds?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” all three au pairs chorused. His doctor had put William on Adderall in addition to the Ritalin and the Metadate that he was already taking, so that was true enough. Not that it had done anything to change the kid’s personality. He was still a hyperactive little monster.

  “Marvelous!” Anna shone. “Oh, Kevin, aren’t these girls perfect? They’re nothing like those other ones you hired. I’m so glad.”

  The au pairs’ ears pricked up. They never did find out what happened to the “A Team,” as they had dubbed the first set of au pairs, and they were slightly worried they would be given the boot as well. Who knew what those girls did wrong? It wasn’t as if Mara, Eliza, and Jacqui were doing anything right. Except Anna and Kevin were so clueless or indifferent, it really didn’t matter.

  Kevin handed out the fat cash-filled envelopes. “Thanks, ladies. Keep up the good work.”

  He led Anna out of the den.

  “Oh, darling, I forgot to tell you,” Anna said as they walked away. “The landscaper—or the gardener—he quit today. You’re going to have to find someone else in town who can take care of the azaleas. Such a shame.”

  Eliza tried to catch Mara’s eye. But Mara turned away.

  As the girls pocketed their cash, each of them took mental bets on who wasn’t going to make it to their final payday.

  Mara: 5–1 it’s Eliza. The girl was a complete flake. Plus she didn’t have anything to stay for now that all her friends had abandoned her.

  Eliza: 3–1 on Mara. She liked the odds on the small-town girl feeling homesick and quitting life in the fast lane.

  Jacqui: 2–1 on herself. She wasn’t sure she could take this any longer. She certainly wasn’t having the summer of her life that the job ad had promised. So much for truth in advertising.

  that money is burning a hole in eliza’s stella bag

  THE NEXT DAY ELIZA FOUND HERSELF IN FRONT OF THE counter at Cartier. Even after everything that had happened, she felt like herself again inside its gilt doors. Now, this was living. She pondered the classics: interlocking trinity rings, sparkling diamond solitaires with the C emblem, the latest from the “nouvelle vague” collection of sturdy, minimalist gold cube rings that Hamptons housewives were collecting as casually as multistriped sailor shirts from LL. Bean.

  “That one,” she said, pointing to an eighteen-karat-gold Panthère watch set with diamonds.

  The salesgirl put the watch on Eliza’s tiny wrist. “It’s a beauty.”

  Eliza held it up to the light, admiring how it glinted and shone. “I’ll take it,” she said. “And no need to wrap it up;
I’ll just wear it out.”

  The watch cost significantly more than the amount in the envelope, but Eliza asked the girl to put the rest on her well-worn Visa.

  She deserved this watch! After everything she had to put up with. Maybe if she looked at it long enough, she would forget Jeremy’s disgusted expression, her friends’ scornful laughter, and the fact that she had to return to Buffalo at the end of the summer.

  Eliza left the store and spotted Mara across the street, headed to a branch of the North Fork bank. She ducked down before Mara could see her. She didn’t feel like showing Mara the watch or speaking to her just yet.

  someday mara will have saved enough to buy her own country

  MARA LEFT THE TELLER WINDOW. SHE HAD APPROXIMATELY $6,300 in the bank! She would have had $6,666 if she hadn’t spent so much money on a dress and flip-flops on that fateful shopping trip. Maybe she could still buy that Camry if Jim found it in his heart to forgive her. After all, it wasn’t as if she and Ryan had made out or anything, she thought, with more than a little sense of regret.

  She tucked her deposit ticket into her wallet and walked out the door. She saw Eliza across the street leaving Cartier with a small red shopping bag. Eliza was pretending not to see her. Just like on the first day when they had sat on opposite sides of the bench.

  Mara started toward the Pilates studio to pick up the little girls.

  jacqui just might win her own bet

  JACQUI STOOD AT THE TRAVEL AGENCY COUNTER, BITING her lip. She had just enough to take her back to São Paolo. It was so tempting. What was she doing staying in town? She could be back on a real beach in sixteen hours.

  She looked across the desk to the flight schedules on the computer screen. See, there was one leaving that evening from JFK.

  But maybe running away wasn’t the answer? It was such a waste of money. There were only a few weeks left. Her grandmother would be surprised to see her back so early. There would be too much explaining to do, and Jacqui didn’t think her avó would approve when she confessed that she had spent her summer in the States just to be with a boy. Her grandmother had only allowed her to come to America because Jacqui had told her she had been chosen to participate in an “educational experience.” How prophetic.

  After a month in the Hamptons, Jacqui had learned that thongs were not allowed on the beaches, that her breasts were not considered real, and that the best way to crash a party was to pretend you already belonged.

  “Should I make the reservation?” The clerk sat back down at her desk.

  “Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind,” Jacqui said.

  Besides, she had promised Zoë she would teach her to read that book she had brought from home, with all the pretty pictures.

  So she left the travel agency, her envelope of cash safely tucked inside her purse.

  super saturday is turning out to be not so super after all

  ON THE LAST SATURDAY OF AUGUST, THE ONLY GAME in town was a day-long shopping extravaganza to benefit ovarian cancer. Former luminaries who have cohosted the event include the late Princess Diana (who simply loved the discount de la Rentas), Donna Karan (who turned it into a themed carnival complete with rides), and, of course, the late and great founding chairwoman, Harper’s Bazaar’s Liz Tilberis. It’s a madhouse of billowing white tents, and designers from Calvin Klein, Jill Stuart, Kate Spade, Michael Kors and many more sell samples and overstock and leftovers for a fraction of the price.

  Anna, who had been passed up for hosting duties at the last minute in favor of a more well-financed socialite, nevertheless courageously soldiered on to sponsor the booth for Edgardo DeMenil, a new up-and-coming designer who had debuted last fall with a collection of studded leather ponchos. Unfortunately, the world was not ready for studded leather ponchos, and the designer was trying to unload all the merchandise at Super Saturday. Anna was trying to talk up the “couture” items with her friends, all of whom were understandably taking a pass.

  “Mara, can you take the kids to the petting zoo? They’re scaring away the clients!” Anna asked in a frantic tone.

  “Eliza, will you do it? You forgot to pack Cody’s stroller and now I have to hold him all afternoon,” Mara said accusingly, although the truth was that there was something calming about having the baby rest on her hip.

  Eliza, whose attention was distracted by all the incredible designer discounts, wandered over at the sound of her name. A pair of Yanuk jeans for $50! A Calvin Klein silk jersey dress for $120! If only she hadn’t bought that Cartier watch! She felt poor and irritable and was looking at six straight hours of misery. Nothing’s worse than coming to a sale with an empty pocketbook.

  “So what? I took him yesterday. He puked all over my Foley and Corrina top,” she said, annoyed. “Where’s Jacqui?”

  Nowhere, as usual.

  When Jacqui waltzed back, sipping a frosty drink, Mara lost it. “You’re never around when we need you!” she accused in a whispered, hostile tone.

  Anna and Kevin were mingling and kiss-kissing friends, randomly introducing a kid when he or she happened to be in the line of vision. Sugar was sitting looking pouty, sexy, and bored, as usual.

  “Shhh! They’ll hear you!” Eliza warned, hastily wiping Zoë’s chocolate-covered mouth.

  William decided it was great fun to hang on her hair, and he pulled her backward just as Taylor and Lindsay walked up, holding several bulging shopping bags.

  “William! Please let go! Let go!” Eliza pleaded, trying to wrench the little monkey away from her head.

  She looked up and saw Taylor and Lindsay by the Marc Jacobs booth, trying on pinstripe sundresses.

  “What do you think?” Taylor asked, smoothing down the front of her peplum skirt. She caught Eliza’s eye and turned away in embarrassment.

  “Oh, it’s Eliza. Hey,” Lindsay said, giving her a weak wave.

  The two scooted away as soon as they had swiped their charge cards.

  Eliza couldn’t decide what was worse—that her friends were ignoring her or that they obviously felt sorry for her.

  “Excuse me, miss? Can you get me a drink?” Charlie asked, a twisted smile on his face.

  “Can’t you see? She’s working right now.” Sugar laughed, getting up from her seat. “Hey, Bill, pull harder,” she told her little brother.

  “I got ya!” William crowed.

  “Fuck you,” Eliza said, looking directly at Charlie.

  “Excuse me?” Charlie asked.

  “Eliza, did I just hear you say the f word?” Anna asked primly. “You know we try to keep that kind of language away from the kids’ ears. Spoils their interactive development.”

  “Sorry, sorry. I . . .”

  “Here,” Anna said, expertly wringing William away and giving Eliza a doubtful look. “Now go play with the Kennedy-Cole kids. Over there, over there. Scoot!” she said to her stepson.

  “Thanks,” Eliza said weakly, feeling a little humiliated to have been rescued by Anna of all people.

  * * *

  Mara found a quiet place by the outdoor restaurant to try calling Jim again. He hadn’t picked up his phone since Saturday night. She didn’t want things between them to end this way, and she wanted to get her story straight with him. It made her furious to think about what kind of lies Jim was probably spreading about her back home. What if everyone thought she was a two-cent hooker when she got back? She was class secretary, after all. She had a rep to protect.

  She dialed his number again. Straight to the answering machine.

  “Jim, it’s me, Mara. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you have to. You have to give me a chance to explain. I’m really, really sorry about what happened. . . .”

  “Hey.”

  “Jim, you’re there.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Look—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “I’m sorry I blew up at you on Saturday. It wasn’t right and I’m sorry.”

  Mara was stunned.

  “I don’t know what
happened between you and that guy, and I don’t really want to know.”

  “Noth—”

  But Jim kept talking. “The thing is, I kinda knew you wanted the job to get away from here. And I guess I was mad at you for deserting me. But the thing is . . . well . . .” He sounded a little sheepish.

  “What?”

  “I think I’ve met someone else,” he admitted.

  Mara exhaled. Now that, she hadn’t seen coming. She had mixed feelings about his admission. On the one hand, she was in the clear. On the other, what the hell? She’d been so worried about his feelings all summer, but apparently he wasn’t really thinking of her at all.

  “Who?”

  “Stephanie Fortuna.”

  The head of the cheerleading squad. Mara had a vague memory of how the little curly-haired minx seemed to jump extra high whenever Jim got a tackle.

  “I’m . . . happy for you,” she said, almost actually meaning it.

  “Yeah, well. We had some good times, though, didn’t we?” Jim asked.

  “We did,” Mara said softly. She and Jim had been dating for almost two years. It was the end of an era. It was the most anticlimactic end to an era that she could ever imagine. It was like the last sequel to The Matrix.

  “Good luck with your job and everything. And I didn’t mean what I said . . . about the Camry. It’s yours if you still want it,” Jim added.

  “Thanks,” Mara said simply. “You take care.”

  “You too.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Mara hung up the phone without saying “I love you” like they had every time they got off the phone for the last two years. It was weird, especially because she was pretty sure she really didn’t love him anymore. She felt unanchored. Free. She wasn’t Jim’s girlfriend anymore. She was Just Mara, but she wasn’t quite sure what Just Mara wanted to do next.

  “Hey, Mar, can you lend me a twenty?” Eliza asked, coming over and holding up a cute black sweater. “Please?”

  Mara stared at her blankly. Was she serious? Eliza sure had some nerve. They weren’t even officially talking to each other just yet.