Such a Fun Age(46)

Alix had even dreamed Kelley into her future. She hadn’t exactly finished her first book but maybe she’d write another, and this time, it’d be a book for young girls. A forty-six-year-old (hopefully pudgy or balding) Kelley would stand behind his daughter in line at the Barnes & Noble on 86th Street (they’d drive all the way from Allentown and stay in a hotel by the train in Astoria). Alix would open her book and sign the title page for the inspired tween. She’d look up at Kelley, smile, and say, “Did you know that I knew your dad?”

But here he was, nowhere near chunky or bald, explicitly reminding her of the night that ruined her high school career. And not only was he here, Kelley Copeland was dating Emira? Her Emira? The fact that he knew Emira at all seemed unbelievable. Could he tell when she was mad? Was he allowed to touch her hair? What did Zara think of all of this, did she approve? And then Alix touched her forehead, coming to what she knew was an adolescent realization, but nevertheless she thought, Ohmygod. Kelley and Emira have sex. Simultaneously. With each other.

With two-and-a-half-year-old Cleo in her arms, Tamra opened the laundry room door. Rachel came in behind her and the room seemed to meet its capacity. Tamra whispered, “What the . . .” as Cleo pointed upward and said, “Light, Memmy. Hot, hot.”

Tamra said, “That’s right. Don’t touch.”

Jodi rubbed Alix’s back in slow, circular clips. “Okay, Tam? Here’s the situation.”

When Tamra was caught up, she nodded and said, “Okay. Alix? Hey.” Alix stood up, her face flushed and her head throbbing. “It was high school, a very long time ago. This is going to be okay.”

“I know it was a long time ago!” Alix wasn’t anywhere near ready to be okay about Kelley Copeland. She placed her hands over Cleo’s ears and said, “Would you be calm if your ex was currently fucking Shelby?”

Tamra reflected on this and said, “Okay, I get it.”

Cleo covered both of her eyes and asked the room, “Where’s Cleo?”

“How did this happen?” Alix said to no one.

“Babe, you are so red right now,” Rachel said. “You gotta cool it.”

Jodi’s maternal instincts couldn’t ignore Cleo. She tickled her side and said, “We see you, lovey.” A child started crying downstairs and Jodi looked to Tamra. “Is that my kid or yours? I feel like it’s mine.”

“Okay, this looks bad. We gotta get outta here,” Tamra said. “Listen. Just be cool. Pretend that you went to high school with him, and that is it.” Tamra would have kept going, but her face turned. She looked at Cleo and said, “Did you just poop?” She lifted the child to smell her behind and then reported back, “No, we’re good.”

This gesture devastated Alix and she couldn’t help but think, Oh my God, my friends are such MOMS. Alix found it remarkable how she could be both in love and embarrassed at so many things at once. There was the age and status of her friends (Rachel, divorced twice at thirty-five. Jodi, the mommiest mom ever, also thirty-five. And Tamra, though impressive in every other way, was quickly pushing forty). And then there were other numbers that suddenly seemed mortifying. The height of Alix’s husband (the same as her, 5’10”), her own post-baby body (141 pounds), and most of all, the fact she’d lain in bed the night before and been so pleased as she counted in her head how many African American guests would be present at her Thanksgiving table. This number had totaled to five.

Rachel shook her head. “I wanna kill him.”

Jodi said, “I think there was a This American Life where this happened.”

Tamra nodded. “I know which one you’re talking about.”

Jodi asked, “Are you going to tell Peter?”

Peter wouldn’t know what to do with this information in the context of the evening. Alix needed him to be his charming self and keep Kelley occupied with gracious hospitality. She said, “Not tonight.”

Rachel waited a second before asking, “Are you going to tell Emira?”

This sent Alix back inside herself. She looked to Tamra and said, “Tam, what do you think?”

“You’re not telling anyone anything tonight, okay?” Tamra decided this for Alix and for the rest of the group. “She and Kelley are probably having the same conversation we’re having right now anyway. But listen, I’ll take care of Emira. Peter and Walter are already taking care of Kelley. You went to high school with him and that’s it. What a coincidence. How funny. That’s all.”

“Okay . . . just a coincidence.” Alix reached her hand into the neck of her sweater and tried to create space between her sweating armpits and her top.

“What a shame though, right?” Rachel took another sip of wine. “Their kids would be gorgeous.”





Fourteen


When Mrs. Chamberlain had opened the front door, Emira had to stifle her laughter. Mrs. Chamberlain’s face had landed at a similar bewilderment as it had the first time they met. Five months ago, Emira watched Mrs. Chamberlain swing her door open to reveal a person she’d created in her head, and surprise!, it was someone much darker. Mrs. Chamberlain was so graciously confused at the sight of Emira that she even apologized for herself (“Sorry, hi. You’re so pretty! Come on in”), and her reaction to Kelley on Thanksgiving was much akin to this. But as Emira waited for her to apologize for herself, Kelley called her Alex. Emira’s knowing giggles turned into nervous laughter and Mrs. Chamberlain’s face curved down. Before she could get an answer, Emira was pulled into a Thankful Wonderland and ambushed by three other moms. The women shoved a glass of red wine into her hands as they asked where she was from and where she went to school and if she was caught up on a sitcom called Black-ish. When Emira said she hadn’t seen it, Tamra touched her arm with a solid hold and said, “Oh Emira, you have to see it. It’s a very important show.”