Chapter 27, Nobody’s Perfect

Chapter 27

As it turned out, my Louboutins weren t quite as comfortable as I d hoped. That s how they d ended up under the table in the living room area of our suite while I edited our video into the early hours of the morning.

Dulled by my earlier champagne, I wasn t doing my best editing work, either. I knew that. I also knew I owed it to Busy Mom Cosmetics to make a super-fun video that showed all three of us having a wonderful time. More importantly, I wanted to capture every smile and every silly moment because I loved these women and wanted something beautiful to remember the night by for myself.

As I watched the video of Abi and Rachel-and, yes, me-laughing, I came to an important realization: it was so easy to live life on autopilot and not see the people who truly loved you and supported you.

At three in the morning I crept back to the bed I was sharing with Rachel. Abi had arranged all the pillows around her like a fort, so there was no sleeping with her.

I d barely been asleep for three hours when I woke up to an angry, muffled voice.

But I declined! And I didn t say any dirty words. I don t know who s complaining, but this is ridiculous . . . Yes, I do love my job, but . . . No, ma am . . . Yes, I can . . . I was under the impression that I could use my personal days as I saw fit . . . No, ma am, I would not like to retire early . . . No, I would not like to resign . . .

Resign?

I shot out of bed and flew into the seating area, where I saw Rachel pacing. Once Rachel saw me, she waved me away.

Gillian, you need to talk to my NEA representative. Also, I ll be hanging up right now. I will be there on Monday.

As calm and forceful as Rachel s words were, she shook as she disconnected that call and started another one.

I only caught snatches of this conversation. They included an apology for bothering someone on a Saturday morning, a recap of the karaoke video, our makeover adventures, and the call she d just received. Occasionally, she would say mm-hmm or absolutely.

It didn t sound like a fun conversation.

Once the call was over, she flopped onto the nearest sofa, leaned forward, and furiously scratched the back of her head.

Uh-oh.

Uh, Rachel?

I d shared a bed with Rachel. I balled my hands into fists to keep from scratching my own head. This was not the time to bring up lice.

I mean, it couldn t be the lice, could it?

Please don t let it be the lice.

Vivian, your videos. I swear.

What about my videos? Which ones?

Some parent saw the karaoke one and the one you posted last night and made an ethics complaint to my principal, who apparently couldn t even wait until Monday morning to chew me out.

I swallowed hard. Rachel, I m sorry. I thought-

Come on, Vivian, you mean it didn t occur to you to perhaps not feature me drinking straight from the champagne bottle and then adding a slide that said, Find someone who loves you the way Rachel loves champagne ?

I swallowed hard. It had seemed funny at the time while I was trying to resurrect the karaoke video without using sound. In retrospect, perhaps using that particular shot and adding Rachel s actual name hadn t been such a good idea. Never in a million years would I think that someone could complain about what you did on your own time.

Well, now you know. There s a vague morality clause in my contract. It references anything that might make my students think less of me or other words to that effect.

That s ridiculous!

Ridiculous but true. The good news is that my NEA representative has told me that the whole thing is not legal in the least. She thinks this principal is trying to get me fired due to pressure over my salary.

Rachel had her doctorate, something I frequently forgot about because she rarely mentioned it. No doubt the county s payroll people would prefer a younger teacher with less education and experience, even if Rachel s class greatly benefited from her skill and dedication.

I was trying to show us having a good time, I said. I did make sure not to show anyone drunk. I cut out any curse words. Your dress was modest. Heck, none of us wore anything scandalous. It has to be jealousy, Rach.

Maybe just don t include me in your Mom Scout adventures anymore, Rachel said, again scratching with vigor.

I witnessed the precise moment when the light bulb went off over her head, and she realized what she was doing and why.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

I swear I did a good job. It has to be something else.

Obviously, you missed a few.

Well, let me see. Please?

Rachel glared at me but eventually gave in with a sigh and a nod. I dragged a chair to the window and gestured for her to have a seat. She plopped down with enough force for the chair to crack.

Not much light came through the window, but it was enough for me to be reasonably sure it wasn t lice.

Rach, it looks inflamed along your scalp, like . . . an allergy?

Swear to me you don t see any of those damned bugs, Vivian. Swear. To. Me.

I don t, I said as I finger-combed her hair. I see some patches of dry skin, and your scalp looks really angry-especially along your part, and-

That damn touch-up dye, Rachel muttered. She went for her purse and fished through it with shaking hands. Finally, she turned the purse upside down and scattered its contents on the little table that held our fancy fresh flowers. With shaking fingers, she brought out a pillbox and removed a pink pill.

What are you doing?

Getting Benadryl, if you must know.

Oh. You think something they put in your hair caused the itch?

If that hair dye had PPD, then I know it caused the itch. And I asked them if their products had PPD! I swear I asked them.

Before I could respond to Rachel s conundrum, Abi emerged in a wide-eyed panic. I gotta go back.

But, Abi, you were doing so well!

I clamped my mouth shut, but Rachel was already looking to Abi and then back to me. Abi gave Rachel an it s-okay-she-knows look, and I tamped down my jealousy to the point I feared heartburn. What s wrong?

Barney s missing.

Surely Zeke and the boys can find him. He doesn t move that fast, I said.

Abi skewered me with a look.

Wrong thing to say, Vivian. You seem to be making a habit of that as of late.

One of the boys let him out by accident, and that idiot dog chased some animal to who knows where. At least he s been chipped, should Animal Control pick him up. I m worried that he s so cute someone will want to keep him.

Unlikely.

But I knew better than to say aloud that no one wanted to keep a gassy, loud beagle-basset mix. And what did I know? I had an ill-tempered one-eyed cat.

I m changing my flight to this afternoon so I can help look for him, Abi said, disappearing back into the bedroom before I could argue.

So you re both going to leave me here alone?

Abi looked at Rachel with puzzlement and then relief. No doubt she was happy to have someone to travel with her.

I have to go settle things at work, Rachel said once she d explained the phone call to Abi. I need to be back in the classroom on Monday, and my NEA rep wants to meet me for coffee tomorrow afternoon to prepare a strategy. Especially now that Gillian s breathing down my neck.

But we were going to go out and see the city today! And tomorrow!

Well, I have to find Barney, Abi said, her eyes pleading with mine. If her gaze were translated to words it would be something along the lines of, It s been real. It s been fun. It s been real fun, but I have got to get back to my house because my skin is crawling from having been away from home too long and, to top it all off, my dog is missing. I told you bad things happened when I leave my house.

Okay, I said, swallowing my disappointment. I d wanted so much for the three of us to have the perfect trip, but it seemed as though everything I said or did made things worse.

We were supposed to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art that afternoon, but I had to send my regrets to Deborah instead. She seemed to think that we were all hungover.

I offered to go with Abi and Rachel to the airport, but they declined, and it did seem silly to ride in a taxi all the way to LaGuardia and back just to say goodbye outside security. Instead, I wandered downstairs. Our hotel was off Times Square, so I figured I might as well explore.

Mistake.

Times Square was a crush of human beings, many of whom wanted something from me: a picture, a donation, for me to take a flyer. All the signs glowed and flashed, and the whole effect was too much. I retreated to my hotel and ordered room service, not even caring that the glass of wine I ordered cost as much as my hamburger.

Once I put the phone down, I realized my heart was pounding.

You re being ridiculous, Vivian.

Or was I?

I couldn t remember the last time I d gone on a trip by myself. Everything had been okay as long as Abi and Rachel were with me. I d felt the safety of being in numbers. But now?

Now I was spectacularly alone, and I was going to have to figure out how to manage on my own because my husband had decided to take up with my friend s sister.

Assuming Rachel was still my friend.

Vivian, don t be silly. She s upset, but she knows it was a mistake.

I paced the suite; its ornate decor now felt overbearing without anyone else to ooh and aah with me. Unlike an ordinary hotel room, it also had so many places where people could hide. I walked around the room, checking each closet and making sure no one was under the bed or hiding behind the shower curtain.

Great, now you re thinking like Abi.

A doorbell rang, and I jumped out of my skin before I realized that it was my doorbell, probably signifying that my supper had arrived. Sure enough, a quick look through the peephole showed a hotel worker with a tray on wheels, the kind with a silver dome on top and . . . candles?

I opened the door, and he rolled the tray in.

Ma am, we went ahead and upgraded you to a carafe of wine.

Oh, thanks, I said.

We blinked at each other for a few seconds before I remembered I had to sign the ticket and add a tip. That accomplished, he left. I locked the door behind him.

As I ate a cheeseburger and drank a red wine Rachel would ve shaken her head at, I tried to remember the last time I d gone somewhere by myself.

I couldn t.

I couldn t think of a place I d gone by myself since marrying Mitch. Obviously, I got groceries and went to Target and took Dylan to doctor s appointments and baseball practices, but where had I last gone just for me? At times I d slept alone in our house because Mitch had been gone on a trip. But in twenty-five years, I couldn t think of a single hotel room I d slept in by myself.

How had that happened?

You lost yourself to his needs and Dylan s, that s how.

Well, I said to the empty room. Tonight, you re going to earn your Independent Woman Badge, and I vow that you will not go this long without taking a trip for yourself ever again.

An easy vow to make since I was off to California in a week.

A plane trip by myself?

Well, you were going to ask Rachel, but she doesn t want to have anything to do with your videos right now.

I could invite Abi-

No, I couldn t. I had a feeling she wasn t going anywhere for a good long while.

Mom?

No, Vivian. You need to do this yourself.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I jumped out of my skin again.

I might not be off to a great start, but I would do this.

Dylan.

Hey, Buddy Bear, what s up?

If he heard anything different in my voice, he didn t let on, because he barreled ahead with, Mom. Guess what?

What?

You have over a hundred thousand subscribers!

It took me a minute to realize he was talking about YouTube. Yay? A hundred thousand of anything sounds good.

I could almost hear him roll his eyes. Mom. You get a Silver Creator Award, and you can talk about it on one of your shows. It s a pretty big deal.

Oh. Well, that s cool.

Silence stretched between us.

Mom, what s wrong?

Oh, it s just that Abi and Rachel left before we could finish our trip. I was trying to do something nice for them, and it all went to hell. Now I m here in this hotel room by myself, and I feel lonely.

Abandonment issues. I get it.

I had to laugh at his know-it-all tone. Abandonment what? Look, Dr. Freud, I don t know which I m more concerned about: the fact you diagnosed my abandonment issues or the fact you understand.

Come on, Mom. You don t like to do much of anything alone. I m no expert, but I think it s because Grandpa left when you were little. I mean, that s why you took in the cat when I started high school. You didn t like being alone all day.

I opened my mouth to argue, but I didn t have a defense. Hadn t I just been psyching myself up to do more things alone?

Okay, fine. So what do I need to do? Find a chaise to recline on and someone to tell about my childhood?

He laughed, and the joy of it filled me with warmth. Then he paused a little too long for my liking.

Everything going okay with you and your classes?

I, uh, made another C on a paper in my English class.

Dylan Harvey, have you been to office hours to ask your teacher about it?

His silence spoke volumes.

Look, if you ask what you re doing wrong and try to correct it, your professor should help you. If not, make a nuisance of yourself in a perfectly polite way, of course-and that might be enough to get your grades where they need to be.

I hadn t thought about it like that, he said.

Are you going to class every day?

More telling silence.

Every. Day, I said. And wear that cute repentant expression you used to try on me when you would get into some scrape or another.

Mom!

What? It s a cute expression. Like a puppy dog. No professor will be able to resist it.

Fine. But that s enough about me. I ll go to office hours if you ll get out and enjoy New York.

Oh, no. Did not want. I d already taken off my pants and bolted the door. How about if I get out and enjoy New York tomorrow?

Fine. And Mom?

Yes?