Eliza Starts a Rumor(17)
Marjorie had a different agenda. “Where’s your corkscrew?”
Eliza smiled and handed it to her. It was a party after all.
After Eliza took a sip, Marjorie tested her to see if she’d heard the news.
“So, when’s the last time you spoke to Mandy?”
“I don’t remember. You?”
“I guess you don’t know then?”
“Know what?”
“Come upstairs,” Marjorie ordered. Eliza followed her as Marjorie went right to Eliza’s desk. Marjorie had gone to high school with Eliza and her across-the-street neighbor, and best friend, Amanda, or Mandy as they had always called her. They all knew their way around her house as if it were their own. The three of them were once very close, though as was often the case with odd numbers, one person felt left out—that person was usually Marjorie. Except on Halloween. On Halloween they would always trick-or-treat as a threesome: the sun, the moon, and the stars; Snap, Crackle, and Pop; Marsha, Jan, and Cindy. One year Eliza’s mother suggested they be the Three Musketeers. They put their own spin on it and dressed as three Three Musketeers chocolate bars. It infuriated her mother—which Eliza knew it would. Birdie didn’t care for candy, actual or costumed replicas, and would try to bribe Eliza every year to skip trick-or-treating. It never worked. Eliza would stockpile that candy under her bed, giving her sweet sustenance until at least Christmas.
“Google Amanda’s husband,” Marjorie instructed Eliza. Marjorie was a bit of a gossip—it was probably the reason Eliza never even hinted to her that she was having trouble leaving the house. She still loved Mandy like a sister, and though she would be the first to admit she’d been jealous of her at times, she always wanted the best for her.
Eliza typed in “Carson Cole,” and the page filled up with the morning’s news. It all seemed to stem from accusations against Mandy’s husband, Carson, in an article in the Los Angeles Times:
CARSON COLE’S CASTING COUCH
Hollywood has been rocked once again by sexual assault allegations, this time against film mogul Carson Cole. The accusations allege that Cole pressured women to perform sexual favors in return for roles in his films. So far, seven women have come forward with similar stories. A representative for Cole denied all charges, saying that these incidents were consensual.
The article went on to detail the accusations, reporting that they had allegedly taken place over the past decade. As far as Eliza could see, there was only a small mention of Amanda and her two daughters—just that he was married to the former actress and the ages of their children.
Marjorie shook her head. “I feel bad. You know we may not live exciting lives like hers, but at least we don’t have to worry about our husbands being unfaithful. We don’t, right?” She laughed a little.
“I don’t think either of us has anything to worry about. But I guess you never know.”
As Eliza stood to go back down to her company, she noticed Ashley Smith exercising on her stationary bike. Migraine my ass, she thought, before pulling out her phone to message Mandy.
She only needed two words:
Come home.
* * *
—
That night, in bed, Eliza tossed and turned, reliving the day with all of its ups and downs. She would have thought that her discussion with Luke in the kitchen or the awful thing that was going on with Mandy would have been at the forefront of her restlessness, but it wasn’t. She’d been obsessing about the lying woman next door. It was so much easier to think about nonsense.
When the Smiths had moved in, Eliza dragged herself out of the house to drop off a welcome note and her signature gift, a Hudson Valley Candle, from a beautiful little store in Cold Spring that makes them. She’d stockpiled a bunch for hostess gifts and whatnot, giving the new neighbors her last precious candle. They never even bothered to thank her; it was another point in the ongoing tally of why Mrs. Smith sucks, mitigating any remorse regarding her salacious post.
Her phone pinged, and she grabbed it, thrilled for the distraction. It was Mandy, responding to her text. It read, See you tomorrow!, followed by an emoji of her head exploding. Poor Mandy. More emotions cluttered Eliza’s brain.
Curiosity and the need to be distracted got the better of her. She gave up on sleep and snuck quietly out of the bedroom to her hallway office. She knew it was pathetic, but the bulletin board had remained unchecked since that morning and she figured it would clear her head so she could return to bed in peace.
She pulled up Valley Girls first and read the latest explosive post:
“Like” if you put your underwear back on immediately following sex!
Eliza had never thought much about it, but she couldn’t get her panties back on soon enough after she and Luke had sex. She would search for them in the covers in the dark like a madwoman until the deed was complete and they were safely in place, closing up shop. Apparently, according to this poll, she was in the minority. If she believed the comments, she may have “internalized labia loathing.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She flipped to the bulletin board. The cheating post had sadly lost its steam. She couldn’t take it. She needed to do more.
The party and its planning was behind her; her kids would return to school tomorrow and she would be left lying in bed watching the changing patterns of light on her ceiling as the sun peeked in through her bedroom blinds. Screw that cheating unappreciative Ashley Smith and her fake migraine. She deserved to be sacrificed for the cause. She typed with a vengeance: