Other People's Houses(19)

“No,” he said honestly, “Jason just came in and I have to go. Can you call me later? Let’s talk about it before we talk to Ava, OK? She is allowed to have control over her own schedule, you know.” As was often the case, there was a warning note in his voice. When Frances had an issue with Ava, Michael often took Ava’s side, protective of his child, which always irritated Frances. They were both on Ava’s side, after all. But Michael wouldn’t hear a word of criticism of his precious firstborn, or, indeed, any of the kids. He was their huntsman, and Frances was apparently the old lady with the apple. It pissed her off, and she felt her temper rising a little.

“Sure. I’m sure whatever you’re doing is more important than the kids.” Now, why was she baiting him? He was at work, after all.

There was a pause. Michael had known her for twenty years, and proved it by replying, “Don’t get stressed out about this, Frank. It’s probably nothing, and we’ll get to the bottom of it without World War Three, OK?” He covered the phone and spoke to the guy in his office, then returned to her. “Go eat something, OK, you sound hungry. I’ll talk to you soon.”

They hung up, and Frances felt the usual combination of mollified and itchy for an argument. Sometimes one of them would pick a fight and the other one would be up for it, but more often one of them would get pissy and the other one would aikido that shit immediately. She guessed that was the benefit of marriage, that you could tell what was real and what was just low blood sugar. So fucking irritating.



* * *



? ? ?

Heading aimlessly home, pondering what to do about Ava, and how to approach it—unavoidable now that they had run into each other—the phone rang.

“Hey!”

“Hey!” It was her friend, Lili. Frances smiled, happy to hear the voice of someone who was completely on her side. Someone with whom she could bitch unfairly about her husband. Honestly, he could find a cure for cancer and Lili would agree that he really should have washed out all those petri dishes.

“Where are you?” Lili always sounded relaxed, regardless of what was going on. She was just one of those people who seemed to take things in her stride. Maybe she was a wreck inside, but on the outside she was the very definition of chill.

“Driving home.”

“I’m in your neighborhood. Do you want to have coffee? I have about an hour to kill, and I couldn’t think of anyone better to kill it with.”

Frances took a right. “You mean no one else answered their phone?”

“No,” Lili said. “You were the first. You had the advantage of proximity. I would have had to call Anne Porter next, so I’m glad you picked up. I like her, but she always makes me feel underdressed. Usual place?”

“Yeah, see you in ten.”

Well, there you go. One minute it all seemed bleak and vexing, and the next you were going to have coffee. Thank God for friends. And caffeine.



* * *



? ? ?

The usual place was one of those Belgian chain cafés that always made Frances feel chic and European. She walked to the back room and immediately spotted Lili. Her friend was very pretty, not that she seemed to notice. She waved enthusiastically, and Frances half ran over to give her a hug.

“Dude, I was so glad to hear your voice!” Frances settled down and ordered a latte and a chocolate croissant.

“Oh yeah? Why?” Lili grinned. “Not that I don’t want you to be happy to hear from me, but what’s up?”

The croissant arrived and Frances took a bite. “Nothing, of course. How are the kids?”

Lili had two daughters, the eldest of whom was in the same fourth grade class as Milo. “Well, Annabel is fine, although I’m starting to see a little Mean Girl action from the other kids. Clare is as chirpy as usual, although I can see her becoming more . . . I don’t know . . . normal.”

Frances shook her head. “I think you’re misreading. That kid is never going to be normal.” Lili’s younger daughter was a riot. “Who’s being mean to Annabel?”

Lili shrugged. “They seem to take turns. It’s all about little groups and who’s your friend and who isn’t.” She shuddered. “It’s hideous.” She took a sip of coffee. “But, anyway, tell me about your whatever it is.”

Frances looked around the room. There were at least two familiar faces there, which wasn’t surprising. She came in maybe three times a week, and often saw the same people. They weren’t at the point of knowing each other’s names, but should they be caught in a zombie apocalypse or something they would naturally clump together. They nodded at each other, they would even nod at each other outside of the café context; it was only a matter of time before one of them would step forward, stick out a hand, and introduce themselves. Maybe it would even be Frances.

“Hey, Earth calling.” Lili’s tone was wry. “You’re drifting off. Are you drinking? Is that it? Are you hammered right now?”

Frances laughed. “No, but I have noticed my mind wanders a lot. Does yours?”

Lili nodded. “All the time. The other day it went to the zoo without me.”

Frances made a face at her. “I’m a little worried about Ava. Her grades are dropping and I just found out she quit a load of extracurriculars without telling me.” She shrugged. “I’m used to being consulted, but maybe I’ve been laid off without even realizing it.”