I assume having personal bodyguards on campus is not an uncommon occurrence given the children who attend Fairchild Country Day. We like to treat our support staff like family (excellent modeling to teach Harrison the importance of being inclusive of all people), so it’s critical to us that our bodyguard enjoys the school he may beattending alongside Harrison. I ask that you treat Randy with the same respect and courtesy you give all applicant parents and students. Hopefully there will be another bodyguard or two attending the school, so Randy may make a friend and have someone to eat lunch with once Harrison is comfortably settled.
Looking forward to finally meeting you in person at 1:00. I will be rushing over after having lunch with Beatrice Pembrook at Pizzeria Delfina. Have I mentioned we are the best of friends? Depending on traffic down California, if I’m a tad late please excuse my tardiness, I appreciate you waiting and not starting without me.
Bless you (I just got out of the BEST Vinyasa yoga class. Feeling so centered:-)),
Meredith Lawton
Life being what it is, I expect the occasional last-minute e-mail from a frantic parent that they can’t make their coveted tour spot due to a bedridden illness, car trouble, or being pulled into a meeting that, if missed, would cost them their job. I get it, I do. But holding up my tour because of slow restaurant service, no way.
FROM:Josephine Bordelon—[email protected]
DATE:October 2, 2018
SUBJECT:RE: My +1
CC:
BCC:
TO:Meredith Lawton
A Fairchild school tour waits for no mother. The show must go on. If you can manage to be the first to send in your application and sign up for a school tour, color me crazy, but I suspect you can manage to make it to the tour on time. I’m sure your BFF Beatrice Pembrook will understand if you have to run out without finishing that last sip of prosecco. Consider it excellent training for the next thirteen years of your life driving Harrison and the bodyguard to school for 8:15 a.m. drop-off.
Fondly,
Josie Bordelon
DIRECTOR OF ADMISSIONS
FAIRCHILD COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL
I hear the first footsteps coming up the stairs and into Colson Hall for the tour.
DE-LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-TE.
There go my most sincere thoughts along with any time I had to spare to send off an appropriate, if not honest, response.
I pick up the phone to call Roan. “Wife’s five-two, French, kitten heels, jeans, white-and-blue-striped boatneck shirt, and a fitted blazer. Oh and Anna Wintour wannabe hair. Casual French chic. Husband works in biotech sumpin’ and sumpin’, collared shirt, blazer, no tie; fit, but angular face that looks pinched, like he’s sucking lemons.”
“No, the footsteps are too staccato. I call gay men who know alternative families are all the rage in private schools. One is carrying some extra dad weight. He’s the mom. My guess is the dad might be fairly good-looking and they’re going to seem like an odd match; so in our post-tour pillow talk we can deconstruct that relationship fora good couple of hours. And I say thank God, this school needs a little more of my flavor.”
“Trust me, the school can’t handle any more Roan.”
“Three, two, one, go.”
We both step out of our offices and into the conference room and Roan does a little happy dance behind the backs of the two dads. He nailed it. I do my best to conceal my disappointment. Roan and I playguess the firstfamilyat every school tour. Whoever wins (or comes closest) based on the sound of the footsteps coming up the stairs has to buy the other lunch before the next school tour. Year after year, Roan is the equivalent of a Vegas card counter at our game and by the end of the twelve-week tour season my bank account is running low and Roan’s ego is on a high. I know it’s juvenile, but when you’ve been doing admissions as long as I have you must do what you can to keep things interesting otherwise every year is Groundhog Day—same faces, same stories, same cycle. That said, I really thought I had come out of the gate strong this season with a Frenchie couple. Gay dads threw me for a loop.
“Welcome to Fairchild Country Day School. I’m Josie Bordelon, director of admissions. I’m so happy to have you on our first tour,” I say, recovering from my devastating season-opener loss.
Good to note, my lady parts are not dead. Gay or not, one of the dads has given new definition to “dad bod.” I almost wish the tour were over so I could call Lola. The other 75 percent of me hopes there are a lot of questions at the end of the tour, so I can stare longingly at Dad #1. Or is he Dad #2? I decide to label the hot one Dad #1.
“I’m Daniel,” says Dad #2.
Being the first tour of the year, I remind myself that when trying to build as diverse a class as possible two dads always trumps two lesbians or mixed-race families; it’s an accepted industry fact.
“Nice to meet you.” I extend my hand and give my well-practiced smile that saysyou might be the most important parent I have ever met. I’ve given that smile approximately 18,142 times. Approximately.
“We’re so happy to be here, we can’t even tell you. I mean we’ve been waiting for this for years and it’s better than I ever expected. I can’t believe the Palace Legion of Honor is practically in your backyard and the kids can go for hikes on the Land’s End trail all while learning in the peaceful environment of the Sea Cliff neighborhood.” Daniel blurts out the Fairchild topography with overt enthusiasm, a drop of spittle landing on my right boob. Daniel turns red, I pretend not to notice. I’m going to give him a break since he was smart enough to marry up.
