Nobody’s Perfect

Chapter 37

The next day I had one important thing to do, and then I paced around the house until it was time for Wine Down Wednesday. Should I go out early since I was restless, or should I wait and see if anyone else showed up? Or would they show up if I didn t?

I thought of the last time I d gone to the cul-de-sac alone, the Wednesday before I went to California. I didn t want to sit there and have no one show up again. I didn t know if my heart could take it.

You said you would be there.

In the end I took my rolling cooler by the handle and put my camp chair over my shoulder. It was definitely fall now. By this time we d usually decided to take a break from the cul-de-sac and celebrate in each other s houses instead until the sting of winter gave way to spring.

But tonight had to take place in the cul-de-sac. I had on my warmest outfit, and my cooler was full of warm foods tonight: a pan of party meatballs, warm rolls, little spinach quiches. I had paper plates and plastic forks, even napkins.

Seven o clock, and all was not well.

The sun had already set, but no one was in the cul-de-sac. I moved my chair to a spot underneath the streetlight.

At least all the bugs were dead.

I took a deep breath, my stomach rumbling because I hadn t eaten supper.

I don t know about this, a familiar voice muttered behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see Abi approaching. I was afraid to ask if she was undecided about me or if she was referring to something else.

But under her arm she carried a brand-new box of Cheez-Its.

Thanks for coming, I said, my voice coming out far softer than I would ve liked.

Oh, I wouldn t miss it, but it is too cold for this. Next week, we meet at my house.

Her words warmed my heart. With Abi, at least, there would be a next week.

How s Barney? I asked, handing over a chew toy I d bought for him.

She smiled warmly. He s going to be okay. It was touch-and-go there for a while, but he s up on his feet. The vet thinks his back leg is going to heal just fine.

Thank goodness, I said.

My front door closed at the same time Mom shouted an expletive followed by, You get your furry butt back over here! You re not going to worry your mother half to death again like you did last time.

The door whined open and slammed shut again.

I looked at Abi, and we shared an ain t-mothers-grand smile.

Room for one more? Mom asked when she finally made her way down the driveway.

Of course. I m guessing you caught the cat? I asked.

I got her.

Thank you.

Hold on! Don t start without me! cried Rachel from across the cul-de-sac.

I breathed deeply in relief. Until that moment, I hadn t known just how much I d been hoping Rachel wouldn t be mad at me forever. Here she was, trotting in our direction, chair balanced precariously, and what did she have?

Two bottles of wine? I asked.

She shrugged. Just in case.

Rachel, I m sorry, I said as I stood.

She put her things down, and we hugged it out. I swiped at some tears and took my seat again.

I brought something a little special. I opened my cooler. The savory smells of meatballs, yeasty bread, and quiche wafted out.

Vivian, this is a feast! Abi said.

I finally felt like cooking again, I said with a smile.

We re going to have to find a way to keep you in that cooking mood, Abi said, her eyes twinkling.

Is that quiche vegetarian? asked Rachel.

Of course!

Oh, you remembered. Vivian, thank you.

Meatballs for Abi and veggie quiches for you, I said before asking cautiously, Everything okay with your job?

Yes. Guess who s leaving the elementary school? Rachel took a bite of a mini quiche.

You?

Nope. My principal, the one who wanted to fire me over that video. Well, turns out she rubbed some people at the county office the wrong way.

I exhaled with relief. Oh, thank goodness. I was so afraid I d ruined things for you.

Rachel shrugged. She was gunning for me. I can see that now. But I don t want to be in any more videos.

Roger that.

What are you going to do now? asked Abi.

Well, I had a job interview earlier today.

Really?

You re looking at the newest Target sales associate!

She even gets to wear red, Mom said proudly.

Training starts on Monday. And from there, I ll either go back to school or I ll find another job.

And the Mom Scouts? asked Rachel.

Will continue, but maybe with a partner, I said. The video about getting my Tattoo Badge went so well that I ve decided to bring Mom on board.

Tattoo? Abi and Rachel asked at the same time.

I turned over my forearm to show a tiny butterfly tattoo slathered in Vaseline.

But wait . . . there s more, Mom said, holding out her arm to show a matching butterfly on her forearm. When we put our arms together, the two butterflies became one.

That s awesome! Rachel said at the same time Abi added, Look at you, Heidi!

I knew Mom and I were in a honeymoon of sorts, that all our arguments weren t completely behind us, but it felt as though we could work through anything now. And Mom and Connie were thinking about moving to Atlanta, so I was hopeful Mom and I could continue making videos together. As it turned out, she was a natural.

Rachel coaxed the cork out of the bottle with a pop that brought me back to the present. We each drew out our #MomScouts tumblers, and I wanted to cry for the joy of seeing them all there together.

Once the wine had been poured, we sipped, then paused in an appreciative moment of silence.

What s this? I asked.

Rachel smiled. It s a wine called the Sisters from the Jones Family Vineyards. It s . . . complex.

Just like life. Just like us.

It s delightful, that s what it is, said Abi.

I frowned. The only problem with this lid is that I can t smell the wine.

Aha! Rachel said. Now you re learning how to tell a good wine.

I would absolutely have to take Rachel with me back to wine country.

Oh. We could all go. We d do a Mom Scout special and highlight only the places we wanted to highlight!

As if on cue, a figure appeared over the hill.

Wait. That wasn t Dawn. That was . . . Harriet.

Her luxurious auburn hair, it should be noted, did move in the breeze.

Hello, ladies!

Hi, Harriet, I said. What brings you to the very end of the subdivision?

She surveyed our spread but didn t admonish us. Well, I was going for my evening walk, but I saw all of you and wanted to ask you to consider voting for me since they extended the HOA election another week.

What platform are you running on? asked Abi before she stabbed a party meatball with a tiny plastic sword.

Eliminating bullshit.

Such as? asked Rachel.

Many of the fines and requirements in this subdivision are excessive.

I can get behind that, I said as Rachel asked, Would you like some wine?

I believe I would, Harriet said with a smile.

We shared a look that said oh-hey-she-might-be-just-the-HOA-president-we-need, and Rachel fumbled for a plastic cup-she usually had one in case George forgot his.

Oh, and I like your YouTube channel, Vivian.

Thanks!

More productive than setting your husband s shit on fire, she added as she grabbed a quiche.

I didn t have the heart to tell her that thoughts of her had kept me from setting anything on fire.

Harriet took a sip. This is really good.

Rachel held up the wine and showed her varietals and appellations and such.

I made a plate of food for her.

Oh, no, I couldn t, she said.

Of course you can!

She enjoyed the food, even asked about the meatballs, which was an easy recipe she surely had to know already. Then she thanked us and walked away, leaving us all to wonder if the natural order of Heritage Park would be overturned. Would we end up with Harriet as president instead of Dawn?

Well, that was weird, Abi said once she d disappeared.

I know. I almost miss the sparring over statutes and regulations.

I hope Dawn is okay, Rachel said.

I frowned. Come to think of it, I did, too.

Well, Vivian, you can only take care of yourself-and that s a full-time job.

Hey, is it too late to join the party?

Just the sound of his voice made my heart do funny things. I turned, and sure enough, there was Parker Ford, dragging out his own chair to join us.

It s never too late for friends. Even as I said the words, I fervently hoped I spoke the truth. In fact, I have a little something for you, a souvenir from the past month or so.

I handed over the stainless steel tumbler. He saw the Mom Scouts part first. Then he turned it around and saw his name. His grin came slowly. Then his eyes met mine with a promise I wanted to believe.

Time would tell.

I had to look away. Now you re an honorary member of the Mom Scouts, whether you like it or not.

It s an honor, he said as he held out his tumbler for wine.

A dog barked across the cul-de-sac. Rucker came trotting forward, practically dragging George behind him.

Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid y all had gone on your winter hiatus, George said as he took in our merry band.

Nope. We got the group back together, Rachel said as she held out her bottle to pour. George extended his red Solo cup. All was-mostly-right with the world.

I think this practically perfect moment deserves a toast, I said.

Hear, hear, said Parker.

Rachel topped everyone off.

To friends, I said before turning to my mother as I lifted my glass. And to moms.

To wine and Cheez-Its, said Rachel, leaning forward with her glass.

And to women who build each other up instead of tearing each other down, Mom added.

Abi lifted her glass. To the Mom Scouts!

Because sometimes you really did deserve a glass of wine. Or a badge. Or a badge and a glass of wine.

And if you were really, really lucky, you knew some Mom Scouts who d have your back.