“I love you, have fun!” Alix trotted down the stairs.
At the front door, Alix sealed herself into the front vestibule, one hand around Catherine’s bootied foot and the other on the strap of her purse. As always, in the charger was Emira’s blinking phone.
KENAN&KEL: Good luck at your Halloween ballet recital/pageant/performance. I know how much you and (what’s the kid’s name?) have trained for this moment. Leave it all on the stage. Break a leg. Merde.
When Alix reached for the front door, something sparkled from Emira’s purse, hung on the vestibule wall. Inside the front flap was a black headband with glittery cat ears. The price tag was still attached and read $6.99.
* * *
—
Peter texted to make sure this date with Laney was still happening. Alix had rescheduled twice so far, and this night was to prove that she had honestly just been very busy, that she supported her husband and his career, and that sure, Laney wasn’t that bad. Alix purchased flowers, Halloween coloring books, sparkling water, bread, nuts, and cheeses. While Catherine slept in the bassinet she kept next to her bed, Alix rearranged the girls’ room and set up her iPad in front of a row of sleeping bags and pillows. Alix considered calling Emira while she was at the park with Briar, speaking to her while Catherine napped, or peeking her head in as Emira gave Briar a very early bath. But the idea of possibly turning the second floor of her home into an even more awkward place seemed more terrifying than trying to fix the situation.
And at 6 p.m., when Laney, Suzanne, and Ramona arrived (Laney with her four-year-old, Bella, and Suzanne with her yoga mat), Alix was reassured that she had done the right thing. If she could go back, she’d still go to lengths to replace the fish, rather than telling Briar the truth. After canceling on Laney so many times, Alix felt the need to give her an extra pleasant evening, without the presence of a grieving, hyperinquisitive toddler.
When Briar was two, after learning that she’d bruised her vagina while riding a tricycle, Briar explained her diagnosis to every individual present at the playground, a sales associate at J.Crew, and three students in a mommy-and-me art class. Briar did the same thing when she learned the words earwax, handicapped, pink eye, and Chinese. On top of her daughter’s unfiltered gregariousness was the general preciousness of Bella Thacker. Bella’s cheeks were naturally blushed and her brown hair—there was an anomalous amount of it—hung down sweetly and curled at her shoulders (whenever Alix saw Bella and her thick mane, she couldn’t help but think of the Orthodox women in New York who shopped in groups at Bloomingdale’s and carried black strollers onto the subway). As Alix bent to thank Bella for coming over, Bella bowed her head and said, “Yes, ma’am.” She wore a striped set of pajamas with a pressed collar at the neck.
Emira and Briar came down the stairs, hand in hand, as Suzanne told Alix how lovely her home was. Laney nodded and said, “Isn’t it perfect?”
Bella said loudly, “Hi, Briar.” She stepped forward to give Briar a theatrical embrace.
“Briar has been looking forward to this all day,” Alix said. “Bri, do you want to show Bella your room?”
In purple leggings and a white T-shirt with a New York City taxi on the front (Emira couldn’t have put her in cuter jammies?), Briar stepped back from Bella and revealed her two front teeth in confusion. She looked up at Alix with a face that said, Do I know this person? then looked back at Emira with, Do I really have to do this?
“They haven’t been upstairs yet, Bri,” Emira said. “You gotta show ’em around.”
Bella was the first to hit the stairs and Briar followed. Laney, Ramona, and Suzanne said hello to Emira (Laney added how it was nice to see her again) as they followed the children up to the kitchen. Alix put her hand on the railing and called, “I’ll be up in just a minute.”
Emira placed her phone in her jacket pocket. There had been no text messages on it when Alix returned. Just a song called “Shawty Is Da Shit.” Emira took her bag off the wall, removed her white LetHer Speak polo, and hung it where her bag had been.
“I can take that.” Alix reached for it. “I’m washing everything this weekend. But Emira . . .” she said, “I feel bad about you and Bri missing ballet today.”
There was a chance that this wasn’t the thing bothering Emira at all. She had a life and family and friends of her own. But Alix told herself that she would never regret covering her bases with Emira. She’d never be sorry for apologizing.
Emira shook her head and made a face that implied she’d almost forgotten. “Oh, it’s cool. You were right. She didn’t remember.”
Alix reached up to her head and adjusted her blond bun. “Just to be clear . . . I want you and Briar to do fun things together. And I definitely know how tedious children’s things can be, so if you ever want to mix things up, just let me know. If there’s a movie or a carnival or whatever it is . . . say the word and I’ll leave money for you guys to change it up.”
Emira placed her fingertips against the wall and held her balance as she stepped into her shoes. “Okay. That sounds good.”
Upstairs, after a pop of champagne, Suzanne said, “Oof! I hate doing that.” Laney was telling her daughter, “I don’t know, sweetheart, we’ll have to ask Mrs. Chamberlain when she comes back up,” and Briar was explaining to Ramona that her fish had chicken pox on its tail. Alix glanced toward the purses and jackets left on the hooks, the ones belonging to her guests. Behind a camel-colored Coach purse was a velour black jacket. In cursive white and pink letters on the back was written, Plank Now, Wine Later. There was something about this sentiment, and the pink rhinestone letters it came in, that made Alix realize that Bella Thacker and Emira were the only people to call her Mrs. Chamberlain, despite the permission she’d given them to do otherwise.
“Are you doing anything fun tonight?” she asked Emira.
“Just like”—Emira released her hair from the inside of her leather jacket—“hanging out at my friend Shaunie’s.”
For a moment, Alix felt betrayed by Emira’s cell phone. These were the first plans Emira had in the last month that Alix hadn’t known about before she pretended that she didn’t. She watched Emira’s black, chipped nails feel for the doorknob.
“I’m sure Zara’s included.”
“Yep. She is.”
“Tell her I said hi.”
“Okay, I will.” Emira stood still. The two women stared at each other in the tiny atrium, until Emira pointed at the envelope in Alix’s back pocket. “Is that for me?”
“Oh God, yes. I’m sorry.” Alix reached for it as she shook her head. “Been a long week.”
Emira accepted the envelope and stuffed it deep into her bag. “That’s cool. Okay. See you.”