“I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind trying deliberately hot on for size.”
“Didn’t you already do that once?” Maude batted her eyelashes.
Sarah made a face. “Anyway, Amanda, you’ll see what I mean about the caterers.”
Amanda smiled awkwardly.
“Wait, Maude, youdidinvite Amanda, didn’t you?”
“Oh, no.” Maude dropped her head into her hands. “I really have been so consumed worrying about Sophia. I used last year’s guest list! I’m so sorry, Amanda. Of course you’re invited. I’ll send you the invite tonight.”
“And you reallymustcome,” Sarah added. “I mean, you really, reallyhaveto. Nothing compared to what will be my fabulous cooking at Kerry’s birthday dinner, of course, or the fab holiday parties we have. But Maude’s is apartyparty.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively. “Aspecialparty. So special everyone will happily delay leaving the city for the Fourth this year to attend.”
“Do you think?” Maude asked. “I was hoping the holiday might control the numbers.”
“No, Maude, no one will miss it. It’sthatspecial.”
“What kind of special party?” Amanda asked, but only because it was obvious Sarah wanted her to.
“We do a whole summer-camp theme. A little over the top, for sure—party favors, games, themed food,” Maude said. “We’ve been throwing these Sleepaway Soirees every year since Sophia started going away to camp, which was, what, seven years ago now? Hard to believe it’s been that long. She was so young, eight, that first summer. But she was desperate to be independent …” Maude’s voice drifted, lost again, it seemed, in worry over her daughter.
“Okay, Maude,” Sarah quipped, glancing Amanda’s way. “But I’d say, under thecircumstances, party favors are like the least interesting thing about your party.”
“Under what circumstances?” Amanda asked obediently. “I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“Oh, can I tell her, please?” Sarah asked Maude. “Because you know I am dying to.”
“Go ahead,” Maude said, rolling her eyes. “But know that whatever Sarah says is purely for shock value, Amanda. It may or may not have any bearing on the truth.”
Sarah pulled herself tall, laid her palms flat on the table, and settled her body as if she were about to deliver a great proclamation. Her eyes remained closed.
“Maude’s party is … wait for it … asexparty.” Sarah’s eyes snapped open gleefully.
“Come on!” Maude shouted, but she was laughing. “That’s a ridiculous way to describe it!”
“If by ridiculous”—Sarah was laughing, too—“you mean completely and precisely accurate, then sure: it’s ridiculous.”
“That isnotaccurate,” Maude protested, but it was halfhearted.
“I’m sorry. Do people have sex with individuals who are not their spouses every year at your party?” Sarah demanded. “Or do they not?”
Maude made a face. “But that’s not thepointof the party,” she said. “That’s what you’re making it sound like. A sex party is where everyone arrives and puts on a mask and strips naked or something.”
“Hmm,” Sarah said with a sly smile. “Now that you mention it, maybe that would be even better.”
Even Amanda was laughing now. They all were. Flushed and giggling, loud enough that the pudgy waiter looked up from the copy ofMy Strugglethat he was reading at the bar and shot a nasty look in their direction.
“Okay, fine,” Sarah said, her voice breathy with laughter. “Maybe ‘sex party’ is a teeny bit much, but I like the way it sounds. Besides, there is more than a grain of truth to it.”
Maude looked down. “Okay, the truth is this: Sebe and I open the upstairs of our home during our annual Sleepaway Soiree for consenting adults to make use of as they see fit. Do people on occasion have sex with people who are not their spouses, while their children are hundreds of miles away at camp? Perhaps they do.”
“Please, youknowthey do, even if they all deny it afterward. And you have to explainwhyyou decided to offer this public service. You need to give context.” Sarah motioned to Amanda. “Tell Amanda. She’s a safe space, Maude. Trust me.”
“I don’tneedto do anything, Sarah,” Maude said sharply, and for a moment she seemed actually annoyed. But just as swiftly her face softened. “Sarah likes to talk about my sex life because hers is uptight.”
Sarah held up her hands. “Guilty as charged. That is definitely why,” Sarah said. “Although technically,I’mnot the uptight one. Kerry is.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Amanda said. “Really.”
