Such a Fun Age(34)

“I would but I can’t,” Alix said. “I have Laney Thacker coming over here at six and I need to grab some things.”

“Who?”

“Peter’s co-anchor.”

“The one you don’t really like?”

Had Alix said that? She’d said it to Rachel, Jodi, and Tamra many times (Jodi had replied that Thacker was not a real name, and in response to the Internet photo Alix had sent of Laney, Tamra had said, No way, and Rachel had said, That woman is not real. But had Alix revealed how she felt about Peter’s co-anchor to Emira? Well, yes. In so many words. The day that Alix finished the thank-you cards to Briar’s birthday party attendees, she’d licked the last envelope and said, “That was painful.”

Emira had said, “I hate writing thank-you notes.”

“I’m usually good at it, but most of those gifts were insane.” Alix slipped the letters into her purse. “And I can’t say, ‘Thank you, Laney, for the toddler glitter and lipstick set, and insinuating to my daughter that her looks matter more than her mind.’”

Emira had laughed politely.

Slighting Laney had been the by-product, not the intention, of pointing out to Emira that these were not the items Alix wanted around her daughter. Emira was partially raising Briar. These gifts were a perfect moment to emphasize how Peter and Alix wanted Briar to think for herself, rather than think of herself. But adding Laney to the equation had been a mistake that wasn’t apparent until now, with Spoons’s dead body floating in the bowl. Laney Thacker discernibly wanted a friendship with Alix, and unlike Rachel, Jodi, and Tamra, Emira had witnessed this genuine longing in person. Laney checked in with Alix’s face before she laughed or responded in group conversation. She’d sent a housewarming gift during Alix’s first week in Philadelphia, including two pairs of what—she wrote in a gorgeous card—she hoped would become Alix’s “good scissors.” Gossiping about Laney was no longer dirty and fun. It felt like smacking a kitten in the face.

“Sorry, what?” Alix stalled. “Oh, Laney’s fine. But does that sound okay?”

“Okay, so . . .” Emira said, “I’ll go and pick up a fish, and then I’ll come over, and Briar will miss the Halloween party at ballet?”

“Yes,” Alix decided. She began to think out loud. “I’d rather that than have her asking questions about it all night long. And you know what? She doesn’t have her costume on and she won’t remember at all. She’s going trick-or-treating tomorrow so she’ll have more than enough Halloween.”

Alix wasn’t certain, but above the street noises on Emira’s end of the line, she thought she heard Emira laugh, but not as if she’d heard a joke. “Of course I’ll pay you for the fish,” Alix said.

“Oh, no. It was like, forty cents. It’s cool. I’ll see you . . . whenever I get there.”

“Okay, great. Thank you.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And you’ll get to leave at six today!”

“Oh, okay.”

“But of course we’ll pay you like it’s seven.”

“K.”

“Okay, great. Thanks, Emira.” Alix cringed and hung up the phone.

A text message from Laney was waiting on her phone. Is it okay if Ramona and Suzanne swing by with me tonight? They have girls too and they’re completely lovely. Feel free to tell me no if you just want one-on-one time!

Alix rubbed the back of her neck and thought, Jesus fucking Christ. With both hands she texted, The more the merrier!

Emira arrived at twelve thirty. When Alix met her downstairs, she didn’t mean to, but she did a goofy Did you get it? face that she immediately regretted. With zero secrecy and without a word, Emira handed her a plastic bag with a goldfish swimming inside. Alix didn’t know where Emira first purchased the fish, but she assumed it was one of those places with an overcrowded tank; hundreds of bulging bodies swimming frantically inside. Maybe they hadn’t let her be choosy, because this fish both was smaller than the original Spoons and had black dots on its tail, but Alix still said, “Great,” and exhaled, “Thank you.” She wrapped it into the side of her sweater and headed upstairs to make the switch.

Whenever Alix was afraid that Emira was mad at her, she came back to the same line of thought: Oh God, did she finally see what Peter said on the news? No, she couldn’t have. She’s always like this, right? Emira came upstairs as Alix finished washing her hands. She said nothing when Catherine saw her and squealed, and she only smiled when Briar pointed and announced to the room, “Mira likes pants.” Alix dried her hands and gently cracked her big toe on the tile floor. Was Emira really that mad over the fish? Had this been an embarrassing task? If anything, wasn’t Alix giving Emira a little break? Alix had been to Briar’s ballet class before. It was boring and tedious and the other mothers were hypersupportive in an uncomfortable way, seeing great promise in their three-year-olds as future ballerinas whereas Briar’s doctor had recommended enrollment merely for balance and listening skills. Only a week had passed since Emira stayed late to have a drink with Alix, but their silent and secret agreement—that they’d had a nice time talking together, that they didn’t always have to discuss the children, that they could possibly be friends—had lapsed back into a formal toleration. Emira sat on the floor next to Briar and adjusted the collar on the LetHer Speak polo.