“God, I hope not. Her kids are so awful, am I right?” The five ladies all nod in agreement as Melissa sits down next to me. I feel bad for poor Stephie being talked about behind her back, but I’m grateful they’re no longer talking about me. “It took Theresa two cleaning companies to get the grape juice out of her white rug. I lied to her and told her you couldn’t see it, but you totally can.”
“I mean, who brings grape juice to someone else’s house? It’s chock full of sugar, and hello? It’s purple and stains!” Hannah shakes her head in wonderment. Note to self, never ever get Enzo hooked on grape juice. These women are kind of scaring me.
“Anyway…” Melissa continues, “her twins were asked not to come back to St. Marks.”
The lady to my left gasps again. “No!”
“Yes. And apparently her husband Brian is furious with her and called her a horrible mother who poisoned his boys.”
“Wow, Brian sounds a bit unfair. I mean it takes both parents…” I look up not realizing I said that out loud as the room grows silent.
“She’s one to talk. She doesn’t even have a husband,” the lady down the couch whispers loudly, but I can clearly hear her.
Melissa looks at me strangely and says, “Anyway, Brian said she better get those boys back into St. Marks or—”
“Yoo-hoo! You guys home?”
“Ssh! Ssh! Hey Stephie, we’re back here!” Melissa shouts over her shoulder and rolls her eyes to the group.
Enzo totters over to another little girl around his age. She turns to him and pushes him down. He starts to cry so I crawl over to him. “Oh hey, it’s okay buddy. She didn’t mean to.” I try to soothe him even though I clearly saw her push him without provocation, but I’m not about to call out this kid in front of these women.
“Is that Jessie crying?” One of the moms looks over in my direction but doesn’t get up to help.
“Ah, no, she’s fine. It’s just Enzo.”
“Jessie is a boy!”
The women murmur their disapproval as I silently pray to God to please swallow me up by the thick luxurious cream-colored carpet. I look over at the kid in question. I mean seriously, how the hell am I supposed to know? He’s wearing pink and has long hair. Thankfully Stephie enters at this moment distracting the gossipers.
“Hey girls! How’s it going?” She squeezes herself on the couch squishing the yoga pants mom over.
“Cute purse, Stephie.”
“Oh, don’t you love it? Got it at Marshalls! Can you believe it? Who knew they had Marc Jacobs at Marshalls! I take it with me everywhere, such a steal!”
“Probably a knockoff,” someone at the end of the couch near me mumbles.
“Where are the twins?” Melissa asks as she hands Stephie a coffee.
She slams it down on the coffee table. “Oh, the boys! I almost forgot!” She leaps up and darts out of the room.
“No, she didn’t.”
“No freakin’ way.”
“Seriously guys, we need to ban her from the group.”
I look around at the ladies shaking their heads as two five-year-old terrors come running into the house.
“Shoes! Take off your shoes!” Melissa shrieks at the two boys. One sits down and takes his shoe off flinging it toward the couch. He nearly misses one of the moms’ heads by an inch. He throws the other shoe at one of the kids, not missing her. The other twin completely ignores Melissa as he dives straight for the fruit platter.
“No! You’ll mash it into the carpet!” Hannah yells as she swoops in and picks up the tray. Melissa gratefully grabs it from her and takes it into the kitchen. Enzo watches the whirlwind of twin boys as they wreak havoc on the playroom. I’m beginning to see why the ladies aren’t too fond of Stephie and her twins. Completely oblivious, Stephie giggles as she parks herself between two moms on the couch.
“So, did you ladies hear about Julie?”
“No, what?”
“She got a tummy tuck.”
“She did not!”
“Yes, she asked me not to tell, so keep it a secret. Her husband got it for her for their anniversary, but I’m telling you, that is going to last a month before she’s back to her regular weight. That girl can’t turn down a French fry to save her own child.”
Stephie, you’re one to talk. I pop a grape into my mouth as my eyes nervously dart around the room. Thankfully no one is paying me any attention, which means I did not say that out loud. A toy goes whizzing past my head, thrown by one of the twins…or Jessie who has gotten in on the action. At this point I just want to protect Enzo. I grab him and army-crawl back toward the coffee table shoving a pacifier in his mouth to keep him from fussing.
“Oh, who are you? Are you a newbie?” Stephie perks up as she spies me.
“Uh, yes, hi, I’m Andie.” I do a lame little hand wave.
“Nice to meet you, Andie. Aren’t you pretty. Do you work?”
“Stephie, don’t be rude,” yoga pants lady whispers harshly.
“What? I’m just chitchatting.”
One of her twin boys comes up to Enzo and pats him on the head and hands him something. I smile distractedly as I return my attention back to Stephie.
“Actually, I’m a photographer. I’m just starting out my business here in Nashville. I photograph weddings, fami—”
“Oh my god, I’ve got to tell you guys about our photographer the other day!” Stephie rudely interrupts. “So sweet Bentley was being a little rascal and sticking his tongue out every time the photographer tried to take a pic. It was the cutest! Anyway, Teddy kept running out of the shot and we were all dying laughing because he wouldn’t sit still. But she managed to photoshop him back in, so it looked perfect. And she even did the ‘aliens coming to take us’ illusion in the background. You know, like the dinosaurs everyone is doing these days, but we did aliens. It was so perfect! Highly recommend her. I’ll text you all her number.” She winks at me as she settles her ample ass back into the cushion.
Jesus Christ, did she even take a breath during that five-minute monologue? I’m no longer feeling sorry for poor Stephie. In fact, I’m kind of hating her in this very moment since she completely took the wind out of my sails. One of the reasons I joined this group was to try and get my photography business off the ground here in Nashville, but in one fell swoop she completely drove that dream-bus right off the cliff. Not like I want to hang out with any of these ladies ever again, but I came here today hoping for some kind of connection…a possible friend, a play buddy for Enzo, and most importantly, some photography jobs.
The ladies chatter about different photographers they’ve used, because of course everyone raves about their photographer. A woman on the couch to my left gasps. I look up to see her pointing to the area of the rug to my left.
“Who did that?”
I look down at the cream carpet in horror. Someone has drawn a picture of a dog peeing on a fire hydrant with red marker.
“Oh my gosh, look!” The same woman points to me. I look down at Enzo and almost throw up in horror. He’s gumming on a capped red permanent marker. That must have been what Stephie’s little asshole handed him. I was so caught up in Stephie’s question I didn’t even notice. I quickly take the slobbery marker out of his mouth and chuck it under the coffee table.