Rebecca could bet that they weren’t the first people to have a heart-to-heart in the housewares section of Marshalls. And something told her they wouldn’t be the last.
68.
Alexa
In the early evening Alexa pondered her situation from the safety of her bedroom, with the door locked. The bad men couldn’t possibly find herhere,she reasoned. But perhaps they could. She moved to the back of her closet, and nestled among the expensive Silk Stockings clothes.Orhere,she thought. She fell briefly asleep in the closet—a first, and hopefully a last; she crumpled one of her dresses. When she woke up she was confused and disoriented and slightly sweaty. She went to Morgan’s room and looked out her window because it faced High Street. There were cars going by, but no black SUVs, and there was nothing unusual in the driveway. Coast: clear.
She ate some carrots and pretzels with hummus—the Griffins’ food options had not improved much over the summer, so she didn’t want to arrive hungry—and was readying herself to leave when her mother and Morgan came in the front door. Clearly Morgan had not showered or bathed since her overnight in Maudslay; she had dirt on her face and she was wearing a bandanna around her head. She looked like aSurvivorcontestant who had gotten knocked out in an early round. Alexa’s mother was carrying a brown paper Marshalls bag, and Morgan was face-deep into a bag of the sour gummy worms from the checkout line. Morgan must have caught their mother in a weak moment.
“Oh, shoot,” said Rebecca, looking at Alexa’s car keys, her bag. “Are you on your way out somewhere? I was hoping you could stay with Morgan while I go to Brooke’s party. I completely forgot to ask you. I’m not going to stay late. I don’t really feel like doing the whole party thing tonight.” She grimaced.
“I’m babysitting,” said Alexa. “For Katie? So Sherri can go to the party?”
“Sherri’s going to the party?” Rebecca’s face registered surprise.
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“No reason,” said Rebecca, glancing at Morgan. Her face softened and she said, “I’m really glad she’s going. I realized at the last minute that I have nothing to wear. So I ran out quickly.” She waved the bag in front of Alexa. Alexa was dismayed. Her mother was wearing Marshalls couture to Brooke’s party? The only thing worse than a Marshalls trip for a special occasion was arushedMarshalls trip for a special occasion. Alexa had seen her mother in a hurry at Marshalls before, when the time crunch compromised her better judgment. She wondered if any of her Silk Stockings dresses would fit her mom. Probably not. Her mom had those hips.
“Morgan can come with me,” Alexa said. “I’m sure Sherri won’t mind.” It would mean less for her to do anyway; the girls would entertain each other, and then maybe Cam could come over. She thought again about the black SUV and her heart tripped its way back into her throat again.Stop it, Alexa. Nobody is after you.
Morgan brightened visibly and smiled, revealing a piece of a sour gummy worm plastered to her front tooth. “Yes!” she said. “I am in.”
Her mother peered at Alexa. “Are you okay?”
Internally, Alexa was still jittery, but she didn’t know it showed on the outside. “Sure,” she said. “Yeah. Why?”
“I don’t know. You seem—nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” said Alexa nervously. She tapped her flip-flop against the floor. “You ready now, Morgs, or did you need to shower or change or anything?”
Morgan shrugged and said, “Meh. What’s one more day?”
“That’s the spirit!” said Rebecca. She kissed Morgan on the crown of her dirty head and patted Alexa on the arm, which was a shame because Alexa could sort of use a hug too. “I’ve got to figure out something with my hair,” Rebecca said.
Alexa couldn’t help but agree.
69.
The Squad
Brooke’s party was a tradition, practically an institution, and we all looked forward to it. She heated the pool up to the high heavens, knowing that at some point one adult was going to jump into it, and then another, until the whole thing felt like a Southern California scene you’d see in the movies. Nobody wore silk to Brooke’s end-of-summer bash for exactly that reason. Nobody wore anything that needed to be dry cleaned, and people tried to remember to leave their good watches at home. But other than that: People. Dressed. Up.
Normally we would have a girls’ trip in the works for September or October, and we’d be talking about that at Brooke’s party. But the summer had been a funny one, and we hadn’t planned anything yet. Rebecca hadn’t said a word, and the rest of us were unsure if we could reasonably take the reins or not. We were in a holding pattern. Circling. There had been all of those changes with the group chat, and the splitting into factions. There had been the newcomer.
A brief rain shower had come on in the early afternoon, but the rain stopped in plenty of time, and the small staff of caterers was put to work placing super-absorbent towels all over the outside furniture. The sun came out in force around four. By the time we arrived at seven it was as if the rain had never happened.The mosquitos had considered coming out to snack on the party guests, but Brooke’s husband had invested in some sort of really expensive silent zapper, so the mosquitos changed their tune, and fast.
The party progressed quickly, the way Brooke’s parties always did. Something about the end of summer made people feel both celebratory and frantic at the same time. We noticed it every year, and every year we got a little more frantic. A new school year always made us realize how quickly our kids were growing up, or, in a more general sense, that time was passing and we weren’t getting any younger.
One of us had a mother suffering from dementia; another, a father with pancreatic cancer. One of us, although you’d never know it, it was all very hush-hush, had a stepchild in rehab. One of us had nothing saved for college, not a penny, and woke up at two thirty nearly every morning in a panic about it. We all felt the future, our futures, reaching out to grab us with terrible talons.
We assuaged that consternation at the bar. Brooke did some of the cooking for the party herself, but she always had caterers to help, and she always hired a bartender, which we believed was one of the reasons it was common for people to drink a lot, and quickly.
Some of the husbands were playing corn hole on the other side of the lawn. A couple of Brooke’s children were wandering through the party, although the hope was that they would be safely ensconced in the media room before any of the behavior got really bad, especially the youngest, Taylor, who was in the group of girls with our daughters. We all feel it is important to set a good example for the younger generation.
We wondered where Rebecca and her Mystery Guest were—neither had arrived.
The sun began to move lower, bringing with it the sense notjust that the day was coming to a close but that summer was as well. We could feel just the very slightest hint of chill in the air, and we remembered that in July the sun set a full hour later than it did now.
