“We are going to find a solution to a problem,” Karen said, in a singsong kind of voice. Karen had always irritated Anna more than the others, maybe because she had no distinct personality. Mimi’s stooge. Then, out of nowhere, she started actually singing: “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?” fromThe Sound of Music.
“Karen, please shut the fuck up,” Mimi, who was clearly over it, said.
Karen’s face turned into a frown. Anna could see she had just been trying to lighten the mood. None of the women seemed to know what to do. Mary stood paralyzed at the top of the stairs. Di stood inthe center of the room, but she was also not moving. And Ellen stood looking out the window at the driveway, her back to Anna. Only Mimi had the fortitude to look straight into Anna’s eyes.
“Now what?” Anna asked. Her arms ached from their awkward position.
“How much do you know about me?” Mimi asked. She had walked over toward Anna again. This time, she stopped directly in front of her, and squatted, looking right into her eyes.
“I know that this is what you want,” Anna said. “To be Queen.”
Mimi ignored this. “You don’t know as much about me as you think. I grew up in a shithole town in Maryland.” She offered up a little laugh. “I don’t want to beQueen.I just don’t want to be . . . what I was when I was there. I consider myself fully reformed.”
“From what? Poverty?”If I can keep her talking,Anna thought,maybe I can figure out an end to this story that isn’t tragic.
“Yes, actually. You hit the nail on the head. I didn’t want my financial situation to define me. And now it doesn’t,” Mimi said, standing up and brushing herself off. She patted Anna’s head in an act of faux kindness. “I had nothing. And now I have plenty. Given the two circumstances, I prefer the latter.”
Anna’s throat was sore and dry, but she knew she had Mimi engaged. Better to keep talking.
“It’s sort of extreme, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Extreme is food banks. Extreme is searching the couch cushions for gas money. We all have our own definition of extreme,” Mimi said.
It was hard to argue with a psychopath who also made a genuinely good point about socioeconomic disparity, Anna thought.
“Can I ask you anything I want?” Anna said.
“At this point, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
“Whatisthe PTO?” Anna asked.
“I inherited it from someone before me. I won’t bother withnames, because I don’t think they’re important. But the PTO is a group of parents—let’s face it, mothers—who pay a premium price for certain . . . guarantees.”
“You inherited it from Laura Cox.” Anna said. It was a declaration, not a question. Anna had learned a lot from Mouse’s emails, but not everything. Was it worthwhile to show her antagonist how much she knew, or to hold back? Would they let her go either way? Anna considered this. She was sitting in the equivalent of Dexter’s death den, minus the plastic sheathing, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, no matter what she said. At the very least, she wanted to hear the parts of the story she hadn’t yet heard.
“A regular Sherlock Holmes,” Mimi said, smiling.
“And the point of this is to help with, what, college admission?” Anna asked.
“Oh, that’s just one of the perks!” Mimi said. “We have connections at colleges. Our members include alumnae at the Ivies, of course. We can’t promise acceptance, but we have a pretty good track record. But there are other benefits. Classes with the best teachers at Hamilton-Wenham. Improved grades for students who, shall we say,are not thriving.We have thebestadministrators on board, let me tell you, and they can change grades in the blink of an eye. Prime positions on sports teams. Court clerkships. Internships at the country’s best magazines. Jobs at hedge funds after college. There are, of course, some other added benefits that don’t necessarily have anything to do with our children. Waived speeding tickets. No jury duty. An easier time with the building department. That sort of thing. And don’t think for a second that we stop there. We’re a regular fucking Federalist Society. Once you’re in, you’re under our wing for life.”
“And this is all for a hundred dollars a year, or whatever that premium membership costs?”
Mimi began to laugh. “That’s the advertised fee, Anna. There’s also an unadvertised fee—one hundred thousand dollars a year, and all your hopes and dreams come with it. But we’re closed for 2023, I’m afraid. So sorry. And anyway, you wouldn’t qualify.”
Anna stared, wide-eyed. Even with Mouse’s lengthy description, Anna had failed to get to the heart of the true cost of the PTO’s secrets—that Hamilton was pulsing with its own underground, a river of money, a river of darkness. Anna had never even thought twice about the architecture of bribery, that you could pay into a system that just bumped you up in the world, that the PTO was just a front for elevating kids—and their parents—into more decades of wealth and privilege. She thought about Harper Mar and the fact that the Top Student award had been given to the same girl, every single year. She thought about Henry, Di’s son, and about how his interests had suddenly mutated. He was into soccer now, Di had said. He was going to be goalie. He was going to be captain. He had been moved from First Grade A to First Grade B, and none of this had ever registered with Anna, except now it did; now it made sense.
“Not that I have a hundred thousand dollars, but I am wondering what otherwise disqualifies me,” Anna said.
“Ah, yes,” Mimi said. “Well, we’re extremely selective about our members. For instance, they have to be part of oursorority.”
“So the Chi Omega thing? That was real?”
“Sisters for life,” Mimi said. She made a symbol with her hands, crossing her index fingers and bringing her thumbs toward one another so that they nearly resembled a heart, the universal sign for Chi Omega. Had Di been in the sorority? Anna couldn’t remember. She remembered her friend pledging, but what the group had been, well, that was lost to the dust of time. But now she watched the other women as they each formed the symbol.Chi Omega.
“Is this some sick thing where a bunch of sorority sisters pledge in blood to uphold the virtues of their oath or something? Is thathow it worked with Antonin Scalia and the Federalist Society? Are you going to tell me they’re all members of Chi Omega, too?”
“Good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor, Anna,” Di said. It was the first words her friend had spoken. “The fact that we are all Chi Omega is just a way of vetting trustworthy candidates. It’s not some kind of blood truce. You watch too much TV.”
