Trading Up (8 page)

and asked, “Have you ever been pregnant?”

What a question! Janey thought, and took a moment to answer. “Well,” she said jokingly, “I’ve
told
people I was pregnant . . .”

“But really, Janey . . .”

“Not that I
know
about . . .”

“Well, I’ve been trying to get pregnant for the last year, and I haven’t,” Patty said.

And at this very moment, Mimi Kilroy arrived.

Janey had been anticipating her entrance for what now seemed like hours, but instead of behaving in the usual manner, which would have been to look up and greet Mimi with a wave, she forced herself to appear as if she were completely absorbed in her conversation with Patty. “But Patty,” she said. “You know that doesn’t matter. Everyone knows that it’s normal for it to take a year . . . Have you seen a doctor?” But her thoughts were completely directed toward Mimi.

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Driving home from Mimi’s house on Friday night, Janey had had an epiphany: She’d never had many female friends, but she suddenly saw the value of having a female friend like Mimi—and she realized that Mimi’s friendship might be more useful than most of the relationships she’d forged with powerful men. People never questioned a friendship between two women, while they were always suspicious of a friendship between a man and a woman, especially if the man was rich and the woman was beautiful. On the other hand, Mimi was as powerful and as influential as most of the men she knew (indeed, most of these men even seemed to be afraid of her); if she could turn Mimi’s interest in her into an actual relationship, she had a feeling that she could go far. With Mimi’s approbation, every door would be open to her . . .

The only problem was that, at first, Janey wasn’t exactly sure how to go about winning Mimi’s friendship. It wasn’t simply that everyone wanted to be friends with Mimi, and that Mimi, like most popular New Yorkers, didn’t really need any new friends, but that Janey had never developed those easy skills that lead to instant friendships with other women. As a child, she’d been betrayed by a group of little girls who made fun of her and teased her mercilessly for having a crush on an older boy; as an adult, she’d done her share of getting even by stealing men out from under other women’s noses. As a result, her relationships with women were always uneasy: Janey didn’t trust them, and they (often rightly) didn’t trust her. But Janey’s instincts never betrayed her, and just the other night she had realized that seduction isn’t always about sex, and that she might pursue Mimi the same way she would pursue a man.

The first step in her plan was to throw herself in Mimi’s path, hence the shang-haiing of her sister, Patty, to lunch. It must appear as if it were mere coincidence that she and Patty were eating at Nick & Toni’s, but more importantly, as with a man, Janey knew she couldn’t appear too eager. She wanted Mimi to come to her and not the other way around, and, with this in mind, she’d insisted on a table in front, near the door. Unless Mimi were blind, it would be almost impossible for her not to spot Janey, and then the dictates of social behavior would take their natural course, and Mimi would be forced to at least say hello.

And so, appearing to concentrate on Patty while watching Mimi out of the corner of her eye, Janey arranged her face into its most sympathetic expression and asked, “What do you think you should do?”

Patty, who was completely oblivious to Mimi’s arrival and to Janey’s hidden agenda, said desperately, “I don’t
know
. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll turn into one of those crazy women who steal someone else’s baby . . .” And before Janey could respond, Mimi suddenly saw her and in a low, creamy voice, cooed, “Janey, darling. Is that you?”

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Janey turned around, feigning surprise. Mimi had come straight from her riding lesson, and was dressed in a crisp white short-sleeved shirt, white jodhpurs, and tightly fitted custom-made riding boots; an Hermès Birkin bag was slung over her shoulder, out of which peeked the tail end of a small, braided leather whip. In general, it was considered déclassé to trip around East Hampton in your riding togs, a recent affectation of visiting showbiz people and the nouveaux riches. But as Mimi was so obviously old school, and, as Janey noted with a touch of envy, probably the only woman in the world who could still look devastatingly slim in a pair of white riding pants, she could get away with it.

“Mimi,” Janey said, rising gracefully from her chair and holding out her hand.

If Mimi kissed her, that would be a good sign, but as Mimi was older and more established, it was up to her to initiate this gesture. And indeed, after taking Janey’s hand, she leaned forward to allow Janey to brush each cheek with her lips in the customary manner.

“This is such a coincidence,” Janey said. “I just called your house to thank you for the party.”

“It was a good one, wasn’t it?” Mimi said. She must be at least forty, Janey thought, but she still had that boyish quality to her face that was
so
appealing.

“Rupert was absolutely crazy about you, and George told me three times how beautiful he thought you were . . . I finally told him that maybe he should divorce me and marry you. And Selden seemed
very
interested. You two seemed to be having quite an intense talk at dinner.”

This wasn’t, Janey thought, entirely accurate, as “disagreement” was probably a more appropriate word, but this was hardly the time to reveal her true feelings about Selden Rose. “I thought he was
so
interesting,” Janey said with conviction, and Mimi looked pleased. “Did you?” she asked, but as Janey really didn’t, she turned to her sister and said, “Do you know Patty? My sister?” Mimi held out her hand. “I certainly know your husband. Everyone’s always talking about how talented he is—they say he’s going to be the next Mick Jagger . . .” He’s not anything like Mick Jagger! Patty wanted to shout, but instead found herself saying, “Thank you,” primly. It was certainly ironic that Mimi was pretending to know Digger, and to like him, as he most definitely didn’t like her. But in the next moment, and in typical New York fashion, her sister and Mimi seemed to have forgotten all about her, because Mimi turned to Janey, and in a faux-scolding kind of voice, like Janey had actually done something wrong, said, “Janey, you didn’t tell me you were out here during the week.”

“Oh, I
am,
” Janey said. “For the whole summer.”

“Well then, we
have
to get together,” Mimi said. “It’s so dull out here during the week. George is out only on weekends, but his sons are here, and I think it’s rot-18947_ch01.qxd 4/14/03 11:22 PM Page 43

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ten for kids to be left with a nanny all the time . . . And Mauve is out here too. You know Mauve, don’t you?”

“Oh yes,” Janey said, nodding. This wasn’t technically true, as Janey had been introduced to Mauve only once or twice, but in this situation “know” meant nothing more than the fact that she and Mauve were aware of each other’s existence.

“Poor Mauve,” Mimi said in a stage whisper, shaking her head in a manner that made Janey suspect everyone had been saying “poor Mauve” for years. “Marrying Comstock Dibble. I keep telling her that she doesn’t have to do it, but she won’t listen. She says she’s in love with him—and what nobody understands is that they really are two peas in a pod. Mauve’s got a terrible temper . . . they can’t even decide when to get married.”

Patty looked from Mimi to Janey with growing disgust. She wasn’t so much of a rube that she didn’t know that Mimi and Mauve were supposedly best friends, so why was Mimi talking about her friend like that? But naturally, Janey was completely ignoring this fact—she had that intense, catlike expression on her face that could make you think you were the most interesting person in the world—and in the next moment, she said breathlessly, “Maybe it won’t happen.”

“Oh, it will,” Mimi said. “And then it will be a disaster . . . In any case, you must promise to call me tomorrow . . . I love Mauve, but I don’t need to have lunch with her every day . . . By the way, do you ride?” Janey hesitated for just a moment before she said yes.

“That’s excellent,” Mimi said. “We’ll go for a hack and talk about Selden . . .

I’m really very excited about this. I just may have found Selden a wife!” And Janey, caught up in the glory of the moment, emitted her trademark tinkling peal of laughter.

Moments later, after the horsey-faced Mauve Binchely had arrived (she had a sour expression on her face, which Patty guessed might have been permanent), and Mimi and Mauve had gone off to their table, Janey finally sat back down. She looked like she’d just won a gold medal, and Patty wondered what it was about Mimi that made her so interesting to Janey.

As she picked up her fork (their salads had arrived while she and Mimi were talking), all Janey could think about was how that little scene with Mimi had come off much better than she’d hoped—unbelievably so, in fact—and how even though you could never tell when people like Mimi Kilroy were being genuine, she’d certainly been insistent about meeting up. And what a coup that was: It was one thing to be invited to a party of a hundred people, but a completely different thing to be asked to spend time with Mimi alone. Indeed, she was so consumed with her own triumph, that when she looked up and caught Patty’s eye, she was actually expecting her to share in her moment of glory.

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But the expression on Patty’s face quickly brought her back to earth. Patty’s look seemed to be implying that somehow Janey had betrayed her, and Janey was reminded once again that even though Patty was married to a rock star, she actually wasn’t very worldly. Last year, Patty had enjoyed a small flurry of media attention when she’d married Digger, but she hadn’t really enjoyed it, and had withdrawn as soon as she could, claiming that she thought the whole thing was “fake.” And for a second, Janey saw herself and Mimi as Patty might have—as two glamorous, silly, superficial women flinging compliments at each other that they didn’t really mean—and realized Patty was half right. But ultimately, Patty’s perception was too simple: Patty was too immature to understand the value of hyperbole, and how it might smooth the waters for more interesting sights below.

“Now Patty,” she began, but Patty cut her off.

“How could you do that?” she asked.

“Do what?” Janey asked, all innocence.

“In the first place, you’ve never even been on a horse . . .”

“Oh that,” Janey said dismissively. “All we’re going to do is walk . . . I mean, really, Patty. How hard can it be to sit on a horse?” Janey’s eyes had narrowed to the point where her irises appeared to be cold blue stones, and Patty knew that Janey hated nothing more than to have her motives questioned.

“But you lied,” Patty whispered.

“Really, Patty.” Janey put down her fork in resignation. “You have to stop taking everything so . . .
literally
. Why shouldn’t I go riding with Mimi Kilroy? Am I really so awful that I shouldn’t have a new friend?” Patty’s mouth turned down and her shoulders drooped in defeat. Once again, it seemed, Janey had somehow gotten to the emotional heart of the situation, and even though Patty knew that something wasn’t right, she couldn’t argue with Janey’s logic—after all, who was she to tell her sister who she should or shouldn’t be friends with? But still, why did that friend have to be Mimi Kilroy? Why couldn’t it be a normal person?

“Come on, Patty,” Janey said firmly. “Mimi is nice. And besides, you’re probably just upset about that comment she made about Digger. How is she supposed to know that you can’t get . . . ?”

“Janey!”

And Janey, remembering the admiration in Mimi’s voice when she mentioned Digger, was reminded once again of how potentially fruitful Patty and Digger’s alliance was, and what a shame it would be if something happened to destroy it.

“Now Patty,” she said, reaching across the table to squeeze Patty’s hand. “You have to be calm about this. I’m sure there’s a simple answer. Have you ever considered the fact that maybe Digger smokes too much pot?”

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A look of realization and relief passed across Patty’s face and Janey smiled in acknowledgment, pleased that she’d been able to help Patty.

And in the back corner of Nick & Toni’s, Mauve Binchely’s eyes kept wandering back to Janey. And Mauve thought,
Janey Wilcox is beautiful, one has to grant her
that,
but she comforted herself with the fact that it was a cheap kind of beauty.

“Really, Mimi,” Mauve said. “How can you even speak to her? She’s so common, and she has that reputation. They say she’s slept with everyone. Including Peter Cannon.”

“Who?” Mimi demanded. And following Mauve’s eyes, she exclaimed, “Janey Wilcox?” And then she laughed. “You know I don’t care about reputations, Mauve.

If I did, the first person
I
wouldn’t speak to would be Comstock Dibble!”

. . .

New Yorkers sliced everything into tiny categories, and then, like diamond sorters, examined and graded each particle. And this was most true of the Hamptons.

The thirty-mile span from the towns of Southampton to East Hampton is considered most desirable; within that category the area “south of the highway” is superior to “north of the highway,” the highway being the two-lane road known as Route 27. From there, a hundred nuances could be employed to determine what makes one acre more favorable than another, from proximity to the ocean to the professions of one’s neighbors. Janey was acutely aware of these tiny distinctions, but there was one area in which she’d always disagreed with the general consensus: Secretly, she preferred the area north of the highway to that to the south. She loved the vast expanses of farmland and the familiar winding back roads, which she’d discovered the first time she’d come out to the Hamptons ten years ago. Driving these roads had always been her escape, the difference being that in the past, which really wasn’t more than a year ago, she’d had to drive them in a car borrowed from whichever man she was sleeping with at the time. And now, downshifting to third gear and taking the sharp turn by a farm stand at a good forty miles an hour, she took great relish in the fact that she was finally in her own car.