Other People's Houses(77)



Bill smiled, oblivious to any undercurrents in the room. He was in on the secret, of course, and was enjoying his job as first surprise guest. “That would be great.”

The doorbell rang again. Iris frowned at Sara, who was looking a little stressed. A vague suspicion started in her tummy, but it was just Charlie and the kids. Theo immediately disappeared upstairs, but Kate stayed with her dad. She was also carrying a present, and Charlie appeared to have brought a case of champagne.

“Hi,” he said, putting the cardboard box on the table. “I thought you guys might like this. I got it at work for something, can’t remember what . . .” He trailed off. “Hi, Michael! How’s it going?” He went over to chat and the doorbell rang again. When Sara left to answer it Iris turned quickly to Frances and lowered her voice.

“What’s happening?”

“How do you mean?” replied Frances, determined not to be the one who ruined the surprise.

“Frances, Sara and I are having a horrible fight because I want another baby and she wants to go to China and if you don’t tell me what’s going on I’m going to fucking hit the roof.” She took her cousin by the arm. “Spill it, Frank.”

Fair enough. Cousins first. Frances leaned in. “Sara is throwing you the world’s gentlest surprise party, and I don’t care what you two are fighting about, she’s been planning it for weeks and Wyatt is about to shit himself with anticipation, so put your argument on hold and make it work, OK?” She pulled back a bit and fixed her cousin with a firm look. “I realize it’s your party, and you can cry if you want to, but wait until afterward, OK?”

Iris looked at her and nodded.

“This block needs a good day,” added Frances. “And I pick today.”

Iris nodded again, and poured herself a glass of champagne.

This time the guests were Lili and her daughters, Annabel and Clare. Kate was excited to see Annabel, and the two of them ran off to play. Clare came over to Iris and smiled up at her.

“Hi, Iris! I’m Clare, do you remember me?”

Iris smiled. “Yes, Clare, I’ve known you since you were very small. How could I forget you?”

“Well,” said Clare, “you’re old. My mom calls me Annabel all the time, and she GREW ME IN HER STOMACH, so, you know.”

“A good point.” Iris drank some champagne. “Did you bring a present?”

“Yeah,” said the little girl. She paused. “But don’t tell Sara because I think it’s a surprise. It’s not a very good present, I don’t mind telling you, because Mom picked it. I wanted to get Sara a Game Programmer Barbie, but my mom got her a stupid jug or something.” Clare rolled her eyes. “And a piece of paper for a massage, which is just ridiculous.” This was a new word for Clare, and she was enjoying it. She said it again, with emphasis. “Ridiculous!”

“Adults!” agreed Iris, making a face.

“Right?” said Clare. She sighed a tiny little sigh, then added, “Still, I got the Game Programmer Barbie, so, you know, that was good . . . She has a headset for her cell phone and a laptop of her own. But you can’t take it off her hand I don’t think, which is weird. I mean, you’d need to put it down to pee, for sure.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, as if running the logistics of peeing while holding a laptop, but then shrugged and ran off. Iris caught Lili’s eye and shook her head and grinned as Lili mouthed Sorry and rolled her eyes.

Someone had clearly propped the front door open, because now a steady stream of friends with food and presents were arriving, and Sara’s Grand Plan was revealed in all its genius. Iris caught her eye across the kitchen and smiled tightly, raising the second glass of champagne that had miraculously appeared in her hand. Sara looked back at her for a moment, then looked away. She’d wanted so much for this day, and now she just wanted it to be over.

An hour later the party was in full swing. Two different sets of people had brought very small babies, who were being passed around like sleeping loaves of bread. Iris had one on her lap at that moment, but wasn’t sure whose it was. It appeared to be a girl, based on the pink bunny cap, but you could never tell with newborns. A small roar came from the front room as someone showed up with an even more exciting small thing, a three-month-old dachshund puppy, and Iris was starting to feel a little bit tipsy. She could see Frances’s cake on the table and resolved to go get herself a piece.

Sara came over and knelt by her chair. “Are you having fun?” As far as everyone else was concerned the hostess was having a fantastic time, but Iris could see her wife was very much a working actress.

Iris nodded, and was about to try to make peace when suddenly they heard raised voices from the other room. A glass shattered. Anne had arrived.



* * *



? ? ?

As Sara and Iris came into the front room, Charlie was hissing at his wife, “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“I was invited,” she replied, from where she knelt on the floor, picking up the pieces of the glass he’d dropped. “Iris is more my friend than she is yours.”

“I think you forfeited all connection to the neighborhood when you slept around, Anne,” said Charlie, who’d clearly had more than a few glasses of wine. Several people were trapped at the far side of the living room, where they had been chatting in a small group before Charlie and Anne had collided at the front door. They looked plaintively at Sara, hoping for an airlift.

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