by Karen Quinn
“As you sit here today, about to move on to the next level of your education, I want you to consider what you are doing today toward creating a winning future for yourself and your family. It is not too early for you to begin to think about where your talents and passions lie. It is not too early for you to begin training to become the best you can be, whatever your dream. I urge you not to be complacent just because there’s no one depending on you and your success. You, the privileged daughters of Colby, must create for yourselves that hunger that was so real for me. And when you do, there is nothing you cannot accomplish. Thank you.”
The girls applauded. Soon the whole room was giving LaShaun another standing ovation. What a relief! Christy thought. She was a success. “Thank you, LaShaun, for that very inspirational commencement address. And now, ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to take a five-minute stretch break. When we come back, we’ll hear from our PTA president, Mrs. Brownie Rich, and then our lower-school head, Miss Trudy Becker, will present the diplomas.”
Everyone stood up and stretched. Brownie and her minions left to go to the bathroom. Michael started to approach Christy, who was chugging down a bottle of Evian. Before he reached her, she mouthed “bathroom” and pointed to the ladies’ room. The break was short. They could visit after.
Christy made it to the restroom just as Brownie’s two minions were leaving. Brownie was stepping out of the stall.
“Oh, Brownie, I’m glad I caught you,” she started. “What did you think about…”
“YOU!”
“Me?”
“YOU! You ruined our fifth-grade graduation. RUINED it!”
“I did? Gee, I thought it was going well,” Christy said.
“Are you crazy? How could you bring that…that ghetto girl here? How dare she criticize our little girls because their parents can afford to give them everything they want? Who does she think she is?”
“Well, to begin with, she’s one of the most accomplished athletes on earth. Everything she got, she earned herself. I thought her message was perfect. Anyway, you knew I was bringing her in to speak. You approved it.”
“Yes, but I never approved that speech. How could you not get me the text ahead of time? What were you thinking? That girl is…is…common. She talked about drugs! and…and gangs, and drive-by shootings! Our daughters are too young and innocent to have their minds polluted by such trash. No amount of therapy will ever heal this trauma.”
“Trauma? What are you talking about? Our girls need to learn about the real world. That was her point. LaShaun Mason succeeded in spite of and because of her circumstances. She was warning our daughters not to let their privileges lull them into complacency.”
“There are hundreds of athletes you could have brought in to speak. But nooooo, you had to bring us a lowlife from some slum!”
“But she has so much to teach our daughters…”
“You are naïve, aren’t you? This isn’t about our daughters. It’s about our donors. And I guarantee that you offended every one of them. You made me look bad to the donors, Christy. That’s unforgivable. It’s clear to me that you aren’t cut from Colby cloth. You’ll never go anywhere with the PTA. Your career with us is over!”
Christy started giggling. She couldn’t help it.
“Don’t you laugh at me, Christy Hayes.”
She laughed harder. She laughed so hard that she cried. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “It’s just that, wow, I can’t believe I actually cared so much about making it in the Colby PTA. When did I lose my way?”
“What are you talking about? Lose your way? There’s nothing more important than leading a community of parents in support of your children’s school.”
“Lead? You don’t lead, Brownie. You terrorize. What you do has nothing to do with supporting your children’s school. It’s all about manipulating the other parents to make you feel important. Your PTA should be called the Pain, Torture, and Agony Association. No one can say what they think. Working mothers are excluded. Everyone’s afraid they’ll screw up and you’ll blackball them. Well, guess what, sister-girlfriend? For me, the reign of terror is over. I quit. You can stick the PTA up your gold-plated ass. And now, I’m going to go watch my little girl graduate.”
Christy walked out of the bathroom. Brownie followed her. “You can’t quit,” she yelled. “I’m firing you.”
“You do that, Brownie. See if I care.” Christy opened the door to the ballroom. The room was so quiet, you could hear a goat fart. All mouths were agape as everyone watched Brownie and Christy walk in. No one moved. Then Michael rose to his feet. He started clapping. Andrea joined him. Fran Rich stood up and applauded. Brownie’s minions were whistling and yelling “Whoo-hoo!” Soon the whole room was cheering. Christy blinked in disbelief. Then she realized that their mikes were on. Her argument with Brownie had been broadcast over the PA system. LaShaun Mason was standing up and cheering. Christy started laughing and applauding, too.
Brownie finally tuned in to what had happened. She looked around anxiously. Then she marched up to the podium and held her hands up to stop the noise.
“People, peeeee-ple!” she shouted. “Let’s have some quiet, please. Today’s focus should be on our daughters and nothing else.”
The crowd began to boo. Mothers started hurling insults at Brownie. “You’re through, Brownie.” “Go home, Brown Nose.” “You’re common, Brown Cow.”
The headmistress, Mrs. Greer, appeared onstage. “Why don’t you sit down, Bronwen? It’s time to present the diplomas.”
“Yes, but as head of the PTA, it’s my duty to shake every girl’s hand.”
“Give it a rest, Brown Nose,” she said, shooing her off the stage.
Brownie walked away, shell-shocked. She pushed Princess Anastasia off the chair and took the only empty seat in the ballroom, right next to Little-Maria. As Brownie sat in the cheap seats watching Stephanie get her diploma, the baby goat that had been so unceremoniously shooed aside pooped on Brownie’s favorite khaki slingback shoes.
Damn, Christy thought, watching Brownie run out of the room kicking goat shit off her shoes, I guess Princess Anastasia isn’t housebroken after all.
I Come Bearing Gifts
Michael took everyone to lunch after graduation. Little-Maria insisted on bringing the goat, but the Four Seasons insisted right back that they had a “no farm animal in the dining room” policy. Since Michael was such a good customer, they assigned someone to guard Princess Anastasia in the alley so he wouldn’t be stolen. Christy didn’t think there was much danger of that.
“I’d like to propose a toast to Renata,” Michael said, after drinks had been served. “Congratulations on your promotion to middle school. We’re all very proud of you.” Glasses were clinked all around in Renata’s honor.
Christy’s stomach dropped. She prayed this wasn’t the end of Renata’s education. How could her family not see that staying here would be better for her?
Renata blushed. “I just wish Grandma and Mrs. De Mille were here.”
“Oh, they’re looking down on you right now,” Nectar said. “‘Vex not his ghost: O, let her pass!’ That’s Shakespeare. Don’t you feel their spirits?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Renata said, looking around, unconvinced.
Christy stood up and raised her glass. “And I want to propose a toast to Ali, who is now back in her father’s life. I’m thrilled for both of you.”
“Yay!” Renata said. “Now we can all live together like one big happy family.” Renata looked at Michael hopefully. Michael eyed Renata’s family suspiciously. Old-Maria stared longingly at Renata. Christy wondered what she saw when she looked at her—Renata or an extra farmhand. There was an uncomfortable silence that Michael finally broke.
“Here, Renata,” he said, handing her a small black velvet box that could only hold a ring. “This is for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, popping it open. Her eyes lit up when she saw what was inside.
“Wow, I love it.”
“If you love it so much, why don’t you marry it?” Ali said.
“Ali, stop being a smart aleck,” Michael said.
“Let me see what you got,” Christy said, peeking into Renata’s box. There was a small gold ring, with a yellow diamond surrounded by five white diamonds. “It looks like a sunflower.”
“What about me, Daddy? Didja get me one, too?” Ali asked.
“Did you graduate today?” Michael asked.
“No.”
“There’s your answer.”
Ali made a pouty face.
Christy was impressed. It was the first time she’d heard Michael say no to his daughter.
“Thank you, Michael,” Renata said, giving him a hug. More progress, Christy thought, his being sweet to the kid. Renata walked around the table, showing the ring to Nectar, Jorge, Old-Maria, and Young-Mother-Maria. She even stuck it in front of Little-Maria, who couldn’t have cared less. Ali asked if she could borrow it. Renata said no. Ali called her “period face.” Michael told Ali not to call her sister a period face on her graduation day. Her sister, Christy thought. Now, there’s a first.
André, the waiter, came by and told everyone about the specials. They ordered. Old-Maria and Young-Mother-Maria whispered and pointed at a celebrity they recognized sitting at the corner table right behind them.
“Christy,” Michael said quietly, “I have something for you, too.”
“Oh?”
He pulled a velvet box out of his pocket and set it in front of her. Another gift from Sonny’s, their favorite jewelry store in Denver.
She opened it and was blinded by a fifteen-carat pink diamond. “Wow, that’s quite a ring. It’s huge. But why? Why are you giving me this?”
“I feel terrible about what happened,” Michael said. “I’m sorry, and I’m hoping you’ll forgive me someday.”
Christy wasn’t sure what to do. Michael had presented her with the classic guilty-rich-husband oversized rock. Should she keep it? she wondered. If she and Michael did manage to get back together, it would be a nice ring to wear. And if they didn’t, it could pay the rent for quite some time. She put it on her right ring finger and admired the way it sparkled.
“Wow! Did you just get that?” Renata asked. “It’s way bigger than mine.”
“Wanna trade?” Christy teased.
“Yeah!” Renata said, and started to take her ring off.
“Just kidding,” Christy said.
Old-Maria, Young-Mother-Maria, and Jorge all ogled the ring, then spoke rapidly to one another in Spanish the way they did when they didn’t want Christy to know what they were saying. The only two words she recognized were “Kobe Bryant.”
“Thank you, Michael. I don’t know what to say,” Christy said.
“Just say—”
At that moment, several waiters appeared with their food, keeping Michael from finishing his thought.
“That was so funny, what happened at your graduation,” Ali said.
“Which part?” Michael asked. “The argument Christy and Brownie had in the bathroom? When the headmistress wouldn’t let Brownie hand out diplomas? Or when the goat pooped on Brownie’s shoe?”
“The goat-shit part,” Ali said. “That was awesome.”
“Child, don’t say ‘shit.’” Nectar whispered. “You were raised better than that.”
“No, I wasn’t, and anyway, you just said it.”
Nectar gave her a scary look.
“Sorry,” Ali muttered.
“No, no, you know what I think the best part was?” Renata said, grinning. “The best part was after the graduation, when all the girls in my class told me what a cool mom I had. I think they like me now.”
Christy gave Renata a broad smile.
“I liked the argument part. You were brilliant, Christy,” Michael said. “I’m so proud of you for standing up to that PTA Nazi.”
Christy blushed. She wondered why Michael was being so nice to her. Did he want to get back together? Was he finished with Galit? Was he willing to help her fight for Renata? Would he be a father to her child? If they got back together, could she ever trust him again? Should she act friendly or aloof? This was all new territory for Christy. For a fleeting moment, she missed having her old best friend Katherine to give her advice.
DEAR DIARY,
TODAY WAS THE BIGGEST, MOST MAJOR, INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT DAY OF MY LIFE. FIRST, MICHAEL GAVE ME A PRICELESS SIX CARROT SUNFLOWER DIAMOND RING. SECOND, THE GIRLS IN MY CLASS LIKE ME NOW BECAUSE CHRISTY TOLD OFF MRS. RICH THE BICH (EXCUSE MY FRENCH). THIRD AND MOST HUGE OF ALL, I GRADUATED FROM FIFTH GRADE WHICH MEANS I’M A WOMAN NOW. IF ONLY GRANDMA COULD HAVE BEEN THERE. SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN SO PROUD. OF COURSE, IF GRANDMA WERE HERE, I NEVER WOULD HAVE GRADUATED FROM COLBY. THAT IS SO DEEP IT GIVES ME A HEADACHE.
I HAVE STARTLING ATHLETIC NEWS TO REPORT! LAST WEEK WE HAD THE PRESIDENTIAL FITNESS TEST AT SCHOOL. I DIDN’T DO GOOD ON THE SIT-UPS BUT I HAD THE BEST TIME IN MY CLASS ON THE MILE RUN—5 MINUTES AND 51 SECONDS! CHRISTY SAYS I HAVE NATURAL TALENT AND SHE WANTS TO KEEP TRAINING ME. I’VE DECIDED TO BE AN OLYMPIC CHAMPION WHEN I GROW UP. THE ONLY FLY IN THE UNDERPANTS IS THAT MY BLOOD FAMILY WANTS TO TAKE ME BACK TO MEXICO TO BE A GOAT HERDER. THIS IS NOT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FARM WHAT GRANDMA WOULD HAVE DESIRED. AND WHAT ABOUT MY OLYMPIC ASPERATIONS? AM I TO FLUSH THEM AWAY FOREVER IN THE TOILET OF BROKEN DREAMS? I MUST TRY TO STAY CALM AND THINK. THERE HAS TO BE A WAY TO STOP THIS RUNAWAY TRAIN.
YOUR NERVOUS FRIEND,
R. E. HAYES
Fatal Attraction
To: [email protected]
Fr: [email protected]
Where were you yesterday? I called several times. Your assistant refused to tell me where to find you. Obviously she didn’t give you the message or you would have called me back. I’ve written a piece you’ll want to see. If you come over tonight, I’ll give you a peek at the article and maybe something else. Galit
To: [email protected]
Fr: [email protected]
Galit, hard to refuse such an invitation. Sorry about my assistant. She can be so protective. Michael
Making Up Is Hard to Do
Christy dashed over to the Harvard Club, which was a few blocks from the John Barrett Salon. Why put this off any longer?
She walked into the lobby and dialed his room number on the house phone. A woman answered. Her stomach sank. “Who is this?” Christy asked.
“Who is this?”
“This is Christy, Michael’s wife. Is he there?”
“You must have the wrong room. There’s no Michael here.”
“But he was there last week.”
“Well, he’s not here now,” she said, hanging up without so much as “good-bye.”
Christy walked to the front desk. “Excuse me, but is Michael Drummond still registered?”
The man behind typed something into his computer. “He checked out three days ago.”
“Did he leave a forwarding address?”
“Afraid not.”
“Thanks anyway,” she said. Christy walked outside and tried Michael’s cell, but there was no answer. She called Mary Ann, his assistant.
“Christy, give me a minute to call him. I need to make sure I can tell you where he is,” she said, clearly uncomfortable.
“What are you talking about? Of course you can. I’m his wife.”
“Look, Christy. He told me not to give anyone his new address without asking him. I could get fired.”
“Well, if you don’t tell me where he is, you can bet your ass that you will get fired.” Christy was seething.
“Christy, just hold tight,” Mary Ann said. “Let me call him. If he says I can tell you, I will.”
This wasn’t going well. Michael’s disappearing act and his assistant’s overprotectiveness was pissing Christy off. I should go home, she thought. Then her cell phone rang. It was Michael.
“Where are you?” Christy asked.
“I’m at the Pierre. I moved.
Sorry, I should have called as soon as I left the club. It happened suddenly.”
“Why all the secrecy? Are you hiding from your creditors?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Okay, fine, whatever,” Christy said. “I was hoping we could talk. Can you meet me?”
“Of course. I can be at Harry Cipriani’s in five minutes.”
Ten minutes later, Christy walked into Cipriani’s. Michael was already at the bar drinking a beer. He’d ordered a martini for Christy.
“Hi, there,” he said, standing up and pulling out a barstool. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” Christy knew she looked good. Her hair had just been styled. Her athlete’s figure was back. And she’d turned the corner in more important ways.
“Listen,” she said, as he said “Beegee” at the same time.
“You first,” they both said.
“No, you,” they both said. They smiled at each other.
“Fine. I’ll go first,” Christy said, taking a big sip of her drink. “Michael, I’m obviously not the woman you married anymore. You married a trophy wife. I’m anything but that now. I gained weight. I stopped dressing up for you. I didn’t pay attention to you the way I used to. I was so busy with that ridiculous PTA that I gave up traveling with you. I’m sorry. Maybe I had a hand in driving you to Galit. I don’t know. But I’m here to say that I’d like us to see if we can work things out.”
Michael took Christy’s hand. “Beegee, I want that, too. I never cared if you were a CEO. I mean, if it was important to you, I wanted you to have it. What I mean is…oh, hell. I just want back the girl I married. And I take full responsibility for what happened with Galit. She’s been after me for some time. I thought I could resist her and still get the book done. I was wrong. I was weak.”
Maybe we can put our marriage back together again, she thought. Christy pulled out her cell phone and handed it to Michael. “Call Galit. Tell her it’s over. Tell her you aren’t going to cooperate on the book anymore and you won’t see her again.”