If You Lived Here, You'd Be Home Now (19 page)

“Not as talented, either.”

“I hope this is the last steady job she gets,” Melanie said with a viciousness I’d never seen from her before. “I hope her
house goes into foreclosure.”

“I hope she gets an STD and it goes into her brain and she dies,” I said.

She touched my arm. “You’re a good sister.”

“I know.”

We didn’t actually need security clearance to drive down Marley’s street, but we did get stopped at the gate, where a
guard asked to see Melanie’s driver’s license. Funny how nervous that kind of thing can make you—both of us were tense and
silent as we drove up the long driveway to a huge flat parking pad where a few other familiar cars were already parked. The
house wasn’t as enormous as I expected, but the landscaping was stunning.

“This is so exciting!” Mel said, clutching my arm as we walked up to the front door.

“Really?” I said. “Just because she’s a celebrity? So is Sherri, you know, and she’s a jerk.”

“I don’t care. I’m still excited about being in Marley Addison’s house.”

“Yeah, me too.”

A beautiful young woman with perfect hair wearing linen pants and a silk tank top answered the door and for a moment I actually
thought it was Marley herself—she had the same fair coloring and long layered haircut and even similar features—but then she
held out her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Cori, Marley’s assistant. Come on in!” I wondered if Marley had hired her because they
looked so much alike, or whether it was some kind of creepy stalker thing where Cori was transforming herself over time into
looking more and more like her boss and would one day kill her and take her place and no one would even notice except for
Marley’s kid, who would tell people “That’s not really my mother!” and no one would believe him.

Or maybe it was just a coincidence.

Cori led us down a huge hallway lined with paintings. “Marley’s been stuck in a meeting all morning and still isn’t back.
She said you should all go ahead and enjoy the snacks and get started and she’ll get here as soon as she possibly can.”

Gee, what a shocker. The A-list movie star hadn’t cleared her schedule for the Event Hospitality Committee after all.

Tanya and Carol Lynn and Maria were already in the living room.

“Wow,” Melanie said as we entered. And wow it was. All of the houses that we’d had meetings in had been nicely decorated.
But this room was
perfect
: someone with an impeccable eye for color and design had put together that bright pink ottoman and dark green chair because
they shouldn’t have gone together but they did, in some profound and soul-delighting way. The whole room was like that. In
a million years, I couldn’t have mixed the fabrics, colors, and styles the way they were mixed, and knowing that I would never
have the guts or knowledge to decorate like that made me feel strangely sad, like a door was shut to me that would never open
no matter how long or hard I knocked at it. This was how famous and powerful people lived, the ones who were richer than 99.9
percent of the world, and normal folk like us, who were merely richer than 99.6 percent of the world, could only envy them.

Maria was hovering over a sideboard covered with platters of food and dominated by a large silver coffee urn. “I can’t get
over this spread.”

“I’m so glad you like it!” Cori said. “Marley left the choice up to me and I just love Clementine’s pastries, so that’s what
I got. Is there anything else I can get you ladies?”

“We’re great, thank you,” Tanya said. She was already seated and, as usual, peering at her BlackBerry screen like it held
the secrets of the universe. “We really appreciate this.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Cori said. “Go ahead and start your meeting—Marley will be here soon. And don’t hesitate to give a shout
if you need anything. I won’t be far.” She gave a little wave and left the room.

“Oh, my god!” The exclamation came from Maria, who
had just turned around, plate in hand, and was staring at me. “You cut your hair! I thought it was just pulled back at first.
But you chopped it all off!”

Now everyone was looking at me.

“Oh, my god, that takes courage,” said Carol Lynn from the sofa where she’d been scrolling through some application on her
iPhone. “I mean, it’s
adorable
, but…” She gulped theatrically.

“You should wear more makeup now,” Maria said, squinting at me thoughtfully. “Outline your eyes, make them really stand out.
That would totally work with this. And you’re still young enough to use color on your eyelids.”

“She looks great,” Tanya said with an air of summation, clearly more interested in the conversation’s ending than in the haircut.
“Let’s start the meeting.”

Melanie settled in the other armchair. I stayed on my feet to study the food options. There were a lot of them.

“So how was the fifth-grade campout?” Maria asked Tanya as she sat down on the sofa next to Carol Lynn.

“Wonderful.”

“Really? I heard two boys threw up.” Carol Lynn was wearing running shorts. You could literally see her thigh muscles contract
every time she crossed her legs or uncrossed them—there was no fat to obscure them. “I also heard that a girl had some kind
of middle-of-the-night freak-out and was screaming in her tent so loudly she woke up all the other kids.”

“It was just a bad dream,” Tanya said.

Carol Lynn’s eyes widened. “So it’s all true?”

“There are always a few hitches,” Tanya said stiffly. “Overall, it was a lovely weekend.”

“God, I’m glad I wasn’t there,” Maria murmured audibly to Carol Lynn, who laughed.

Tanya cleared her throat and shuffled some papers. “Okay, so… The good news is that I think we’ve figured out the napkin situation,
thank you, Carol Lynn. Now for the biggie. Food. How’d you two do?” She looked at Melanie, well aware which of us was the
responsible adult.

Melanie had printed up the menus that all three caterers had e-mailed us and made copies for everyone, which she now quickly
passed out. “These are on recycled paper,” she said.

“Good girl,” said Tanya approvingly. She studied the pages, flicking each one aside after she had read it. For a few moments,
the only sound in the room was the rustling of the pages—and the noises
I
made as I poured myself some coffee and heaped my plate with scones, fresh fruit, and jams. I didn’t need to look at the
estimates; Melanie had already made me look at them too many times as she agonized over which one we should recommend to the
rest of the committee.

“Only one of them was willing to make the lamb chops for our budget,” she explained now to the others once they had finished
reading. “But the rest of the meal suffered for that. The others offered more variety but no lamb chops. So I’m a little torn.”

“Let’s go with this one.” Tanya waved a page. “Crackerjack Catering. But tell them to substitute something else for the soup.
I hate when they serve soup in those spoons and call it finger food. Soup is not a finger food.”

“Hear, hear!” Maria said. “It’s time someone stood up against that insanity.” Tanya narrowed her eyes, and Maria said quickly,
“I’m serious. I hate that too.” Tanya returned her attention to Mel, and Maria gave me an amused
got out of that one
look behind her back. I grinned at her.

“I actually kind of liked the third menu best,” Melanie said to Tanya. “From Spicy Girl Catering. I thought she was
offering us more for the money and the food seemed a little more interesting and sophisticated.”

Tanya shook her head. “We need to go with Crackerjack. They know the school and everyone was happy with what they did last
year.”

“But this could be even better,” I said.

She shot me a look. “
And
the guy who owns it has a nephew at the upper school. His sister is president of the Parent Association and called me last
week to make sure we were using him again.”

“Why were we checking all those other caterers, then?”

“I didn’t want it to look like nepotism. We had to be fair and open-minded about this.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “In that case, both Mel and I think that Spicy Girl offers more for the money.” I didn’t
really care, but I was mad she’d wasted our time. Well, Melanie’s time.

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Tanya said flatly.

Marley never showed. Cori apologized for that as she escorted us all to the front door an hour or so later. “Marley just called
to say she feels awful that she got held up and hopes you all understand. And she said to please let us know how we can help
out with the event.” She smiled brightly as she ushered us out the door.

As we strolled toward our cars, sluggish in the midday sunshine, Maria said to me, “I’m so glad Noah came to Austin’s party.
And you know who absolutely fell in love with your son?”

“Who?”

“Debbie Golden.”

“Who?” I repeated, just as blankly.

“Joshua’s mom.”

“Oh, her! She was really nice.”

“She’s
great,
” Maria said. “And Joshua and Noah are two peas in a pod. I’m surprised they haven’t connected before now. But Debbie said
Joshua’s been talking about Noah ever since the party. You have to get them together.”

“Well, now that I know their last name I can actually look them up in the directory,” I said. “Thanks.”

“And how terrific was Coach Andrew?”

“He was pretty awesome.” I felt funny as I said it. Like I had some personal stake in how “terrific” Coach Andrew was. Which
I didn’t. Did I?

“Bye.” Maria gave me and Melanie each a peck on the cheek and then walked briskly toward her car, agile despite four-inch
high heels that would have slowed
me
down. She got into a large black Mercedes and drove off.

“Wait a second,” I said. “Her license plate—I’ve seen her car before.”

“Yeah, at all the other meetings,” Mel said.

“No, I mean—” It hit me. “She’s the one who cut me off in car pool a couple of months ago! I was so annoyed—she broke all
the rules and then blocked me in.”

“A lot of people have black Mercedes.”

“No, it was definitely her. The car had that license plate—and now that I think about it, I can picture her driving. I just
didn’t know her back then, but I remember the blond hair and all.” I shook my head. “It was the most piggish thing I’ve ever
seen.”

“But you like her now,” Mel said.

“I guess. It’s weird. I hate so many things about her but I like
her
.”

“You judge people too quickly. If you hadn’t grown up with
me, you’d probably hate me because I’m so wishy-washy and boring. You’d think I was pathetic and write me off.”

“That’s not true. I couldn’t help but like you. No one can.”

She shook her head. “You’re loyal to everyone who’s close to you, Rickie, and suspicious of everyone you don’t know. I promise
you, if you had never met me—”

“My life would be a tragic waste.” I cut her off in such a mock-dramatic voice that she laughed and thankfully dropped the
subject.

The next Sunday, when I opened the front door in answer to his knock, Andrew took a startled step back. “Holy cow,” he said.

“That’s a stupid swear,” I said.

“When did you cut your hair?”

“Last week.” I touched it self-consciously. “I know it’s extreme.” He studied me so intently that I had to look away. “Well?”
I said when I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“It suits you,” he said and came in the house.

I wondered what he’d say to Gracie—she of the long, blond flowing tresses—if she showed up one day with it all cut off. Probably
not “It suits you.”

Nicole and Cameron were joining the coaching session. Mel had dropped them off earlier and gone on to take a yoga class in
Brentwood.

Whenever I looked out the window, the three kids seemed to be having a great time playing with the coach.

At the end of the hour, Noah ran into the kitchen ahead of the others, shouting, “I totally creamed Cameron in the last game!”

“You shouldn’t gloat,” Nicole said as she and Cameron followed him in. She was wearing a neat ponytail and a yellow sweatsuit
that fit her low in the hips and showed off her little-girl belly bulge—which I loved. “That’s bad sportsmanship.”

“Sorry.” He whispered to me loudly, “But I totally did!”

“Who wants a cookie?” I asked diplomatically. I put out the plate of cookies I’d made while they were playing and poured some
milk for them and then went out back where Andrew was tossing the last of his equipment into his net bag. “How’d it go?”

“Terrific. They’re such great kids.”

“Did Noah really beat Cameron at something? Because that would be a first.”

The coach grinned. “There may have been a tiny bit of creative scorekeeping.”

“You cheated?”

“Not exactly… It’s just that Cameron is so much more athletic than Noah but he’s younger and that’s hard on Noah. He was beating
him at everything.” He gave me a sly look. “So I may have engineered things a bit on the last game to make sure Noah would
end on a high note.”

“You seemed so honest.”

“It’s all an act.” He slung the bag over his shoulder, and we walked back into the house.

Mom was in the kitchen. She was removing the plate of cookies from the table, over the kids’ protests. “It’s too close to
lunchtime,” she said. “You can have more after you’ve eaten a healthful lunch.”

Cameron appealed to me. “I only had
one
so far, Rickie. Everyone else had two.”

“You can have another one.” I took the plate from my mother and let Cameron pick out a cookie. Mom made an annoyed sound,
which I ignored. I offered the plate to Andrew.

He dropped the bag of balls on the ground so he could take a cookie. “It’s okay that Noah’s eating one of these, right?”

“I’d like to get annoyed at you for asking me that,” I said,
“but, sadly, you’re kind of justified. This time, it’s safe.” He took a bite and then I added, “Of course they’re deadly for
anyone who
doesn’t
have celiac disease.”

He put his hand to his throat and pretended to choke. Then he stopped pretending and took another bite. “It’s good,” he said.