Cutting Teeth: A Novel

by Julia Fierro

  Nicole drew in her breath sharply, as if something hurt. Then she made a choking sound. But she didn’t have any food in her mouth.

  The mommies had told Tenzin that she must always be on the lookout for the children’s choking, and Leigh had paid for Tenzin to take a CPR class, where she had pushed with all her weight on the chest of a small child made of plastic.

  “Nicole,” Tenzin said as she hurried over, “are you okay?”

  She took Nicole’s hands into her own, which, despite the sweat that rolled down the woman’s cheeks, were chilled. She pulled Nicole to the sofa and helped her sit down. She fanned Nicole’s pale face with a magazine from the coffee table.

  “Are you sick?” Tenzin asked.

  Nicole looked as if she was about to throw up. Like the time Tenzin had spun Chase too fast on his therapy swing, and he had vomited all over the playroom carpet.

  Josh appeared beside Nicole.

  “Nic,” he said, and Tenzin heard a new sternness in his voice. As if he were talking to an overtired little girl.

  Nicole’s hands were clenched together in a tight ball.

  “Did you take something?” Josh asked her, loud enough for the others to hear.

  Tenzin thought of the many white-capped bottles in Nicole’s bathroom cabinet, bottles of medication with X and Z in their names. She didn’t know many words in English that had an X or a Z and so she had memorized the words that had been typed across the bottle labels. Xanax. Zoloft. Diazepam. Clonazepam.

  Nicole did not answer.

  Michael cleared his throat from where he sat at the kitchen table. “That book, The Road, was pretty awesome,” he said. “What a rush.”

  “A rush?” Leigh said, and Tenzin watched as her good employer straightened her back. Like a shy child working hard to assert herself.

  Leigh continued, staring toward Michael, “It’s about the end of humanity,” she said. “There are cannibals in it”—she paused, her voice falling to a whisper as her eyes hurried toward the stairs—“eating little children.”

  Michael laughed, and Tenzin watched a piece of food fly from his mouth and land on the pure white tablecloth.

  “So,” Michael said, scanning the room, “who here would do away with their own kid, in a doomed world full of cannibals?”

  “Well,” Leigh said, “I wouldn’t have let them suffer. Or die some horrible death. Yes,” Leigh said, and Tenzin could see that the woman was holding her chin higher. “I would have put them out of their misery.”

  “Not me,” said Susanna. “I’d probably die trying to protect them.”

  Allie coughed very quietly, but Tenzin heard. Like Allie was trying to keep something inside.

  Nicole made a mewling noise from her seat on the sofa. The way one of the children sounded during a movie’s scary part—like when Ursula, the sea witch in The Little Mermaid, stretched her octopus-legs across the iPad screen.

  Josh squatted in front of his wife. “What is it, Nic?”

  The room was silent, but Tenzin could hear the whisper of Tiffany’s bare feet slipping over the wood floor as she swayed from side to side.

  Nicole spoke. “It’s almost time.”

  Tenzin saw Allie creep behind Susanna and start up the stairs.

  “Uh-oh,” Tiffany called loudly, so that everyone’s eyes followed hers. “Alert! Someone’s trying to escape. Alert!”

  “Al? Where are you going?” Susanna asked, and Tenzin heard fear in the pregnant woman’s voice.

  “I’m just going to check on the boys,” Allie called over her shoulder as she took the stairs two steps at a time.

  “Wait!” Susanna said. “Let me come with you.” She tried to heave up from her chair, and Tenzin saw her big belly shudder.

  “Here, let me help,” said Tiffany, moving over to Susanna and gripping her arm. “You shouldn’t walk up the stairs by yourself in your condition.” She said it sweetly, but Tenzin knew she was being bad again.

  Susanna shook off Tiffany’s hand. “I’m fine.”

  “Oh, but you’re not fine, honey,” said Tiffany, her voice sweet as sugar. “Having to live in the dirty nasty city and all. I can see how hard it is on you.”

  Tiffany’s lips were puffed out—like in the pretend-sad faces the children wore when they wanted Tenzin or their mommies to pay attention to them. But instead of comforting Tiffany with a gentle pat or hug, Susanna’s round face bloomed red, and with great effort, she pushed herself up out of the chair and toddled toward Tiffany so quickly that Tiffany had to step back.

  “You,” Susanna said. “We should never have let you into our playgroup.” She whirled around, her arms out at her sides, and Tenzin stepped forward, fearing the heavily pregnant woman would fall, but Susanna regained her balance and pointed at Rip. Susanna seemed to be possessed. By something bigger than herself, like a sort of god, Tenzin thought. She had never seen this mommy angry before.

  “But you, Rip!” Susanna cried. “Mr. Mom. You were the one that made us take her. I told you.”

  The baby. Tenzin imagined the anger, flame-hot, inside Susanna’s body. It will hurt the baby, she thought, then saw that Michael had left the table and was now towering over Susanna.

  “Don’t talk to my fiancée like that.”

  Susanna looked up at him, her hands on her hips, her belly pushed forward so far that Tenzin thought the baby might bump Michael.

  “Your fiancée?” Susanna asked, with a fancy accent and Tenzin saw the animal fierceness in the pregnant woman’s eyes. Like a mother protecting her young. “Ha! You should’ve seen your so-called fiancée at the bar a few weeks ago. If it hadn’t been for me…”

  Then Leigh was between Susanna and Michael, her arms outstretched, interrupting Susanna with, “Okay now. Maybe it’s time for everyone to eat.”

  But Tiffany was pointing at Leigh, her voice rising like a siren above their heads.

  “I don’t need you, Miss Debutante.” Tiffany spoke strangely, like when Chase had a lollipop in his mouth and his words had to climb around the candy to get out. “I don’t need you to defend me.”

  Leigh turned to Tiffany, and Tenzin saw that her good employer Leigh’s face was as still and pale as Tiffany’s was stirred and feverish.

  “My dress looks nice on you, Tiff,” Leigh said, and then to Susanna—but still loud enough that they all heard, Tenzin noticed. “I got it at a sample sale. Paid nothing for it. But the fabric felt so cheap. I never wore it out. Just around the house.”

  Tiffany sighed long—ending in a phlegmy laugh that made Tenzin wonder if Tiffany wasn’t getting a cold. Or maybe it was those stinky cigarettes she smoked.

  “We need to go to the car,” Nicole said, staring blankly at Josh. “The bags. They’re in the trunk.”

  Finally, Tenzin thought with great relief. Something she could do, a task she could complete to help these troubled mommies and daddies.

  “I go get the bags!” she announced.

  As Tenzin passed Nicole on the couch, Nicole reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “Please,” Nicole said. “Stay with me, Tenzin.” She looked up at Josh. “You go, honey. Please.”

  Josh’s voice was shaking. “Where are your pills, Nicole? You tell me. Right now.”

  “It’s hopeless,” Nicole said meekly. “They’re not working. They’re not enough.”

  “Oh, those little peach-colored pills?” Tiffany said. “Yummy yummy Xanax. It’s really the best. Don’t you think, Nic? ’Cause it’s like you feel totally calm. But you don’t feel like you’re drugged. Man, they really hit it out of the ballpark with that one, those pharmaceutical geniuses.” She giggled and sat down on the arm of the couch beside Nicole.

  “Hey, Nic. I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Tiffany said, then she leaned close and whispered to Nicole so Tenzin could barely hear, “You never did jump off that seawall, did you?”

  Leigh walked to the sofa and laid a cool hand on Tenzin’s wrist. “It’s okay, Tenzin,” she whispered. “You can go ba
ck upstairs.”

  Tenzin nodded, relieved. Her place was with the children. With the innocent. Praise peace.

  She patted Nicole’s hands and rose from the sofa.

  “I think Tenzin should stay,” Tiffany said. “She is our guest of honor, after all. And she’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need to be told what to do. Right, Tenzie?”

  “Then treat her with honor,” Leigh said. “You can start by calling her the name her mother gave her. Her name is Tenzin.”

  The way Leigh said her name made Tenzin blush. Yes, it was terrible that the two women were working so hard to hurt each other, their words like sword blades. But it was she they were fighting over with an emotion that bordered on love, and this made her not exactly happy, but not unhappy either. She would be lying if she did not admit to a bit of pleasure.

  “I treat her with honor,” Tiffany said, and Tenzin saw that, for the first time that night, Tiffany was not smiling.

  “You don’t own her,” Leigh said.

  Tiffany laughed. “Sorry that your kid is challenging, Miss Leigh Lambert Marshall the third. But there are other people in the world besides you.”

  “Stop it, Tiffany,” Leigh ordered. “Stop this right now. Before it’s too late.”

  Tenzin wished she could stand between them, like she had stood between the children so many times, her arms spread, a wall between two stormy children. She could share with them the wise words of the Dalai Lama:

  Every being, even those who are hostile to us, has the same right as we do to be happy and not to suffer. So let’s take care of others wholeheartedly, of both our friends and our enemies.

  Leigh turned to walk away. And that was when Tiffany gripped Leigh’s thin arm, and Tenzin almost cried out, begging Tiffany not to hurt her beloved Leigh. Tiffany twisted Leigh around. Leigh’s hair was a gold fan in the candlelight.

  The women’s faces were inches apart.

  “If it wasn’t for me,” Tiffany said, pointing a finger in Leigh’s face, “you’d have no friends. I welcomed you into the group.”

  Leigh looked around the room—for help, or maybe consent, Tenzin thought—then took a deep breath, and was about to speak, to say what Tenzin knew was something terrible, and Tenzin wanted to run to Leigh and demand that she stop, that she take a breath, that she smell the flowers, blow out the candles, just as they urged Chase to do when he was inconsolable.

  But Tenzin knew that Leigh had to make Leigh’s choices.

  “If it wasn’t for me,” Leigh said, her voice bolder and brighter than Tenzin had ever heard it, “you would’ve gotten kicked out of the group ages ago.”

  “Me? Me?” Tiffany laughed, her head thrown back, mouth open. As if she were waiting for raindrops to fall from the ceiling.

  Tenzin could see Tiffany struggling to contain herself. She wasn’t a bad person, Tenzin wanted to explain to the roomful of hurt mommies and daddies. Just a broken one. She knew Tiffany wanted to stop herself from saying and doing ugly things.

  “Your kid is the problem,” Tiffany said. “There is something seriously wrong with him. Everyone knows that, and it’s time you accepted it.”

  The room drew in a sharp collective breath.

  Tenzin knew there was one rule at playgroup that could never be broken—the mommies and daddies never ever said ugly things about the children.

  The room was so quiet that Tenzin could hear the hum of her own heart. Her hand crawled into her pocket to rub her wooden prayer beads.

  Silence is sometimes the best answer, the great wise Dalai Lama once said.

  Tiffany wagged a finger at Leigh’s nose.

  “I know the truth,” Tiffany sang. “I know your big bad secret. Why didn’t you just ask Daddy for the money? I mean, is there anything you’ve ever wanted that you didn’t get, Leigh?”

  Tenzin knew what Tiffany was speaking of. She had known for months about the money Leigh had taken. Ever since she had accompanied Leigh to a school meeting—so Leigh could show Charlotte to the other mommies there. Tenzin had seen the sweat beading on Leigh’s forehead, had watched her pull one and then another hair from her head when she thought no one was looking.

  Now Tenzin knew that Tiffany was stripping Leigh naked in front of all the mommies and daddies, then lashing her with a whip, and for a moment, maybe for the first time, Tenzin did judge. She judged Tiffany as bad.

  Leigh leaned closer to Tiffany, then closer still, until it seemed that Leigh’s chin was resting on Tiffany’s shoulder, and Leigh’s lips were moving, and Tenzin saw the change come to Tiffany’s face. As if Leigh had whispered a magic spell and entranced Tiffany, just like in the children’s once upon a time stories. Leigh had told Tiffany a scary story.

  Then Leigh was in Tenzin’s arms, pushing her face into Tenzin’s chest.

  Leigh’s sobs vibrated through her as Tenzin smoothed big circles into her mommy’s back. She closed her eyes and pretended it was her daughter. Samten. She kissed Samten’s soft hair. She spoke in Tibetan, telling her that all would be okay, that the storm had almost passed.

  Tiffany stepped up onto the couch. Gripped the back of it for a minute, to steady herself, then straightened up, so that she stood high above everyone in the room, the skirt of her green dress fluttering.

  “What a fun feast this has been!” she called out. She shook her long curls and wiggled her hips, as if dancing to imaginary music.

  Tenzin cupped a hand over Leigh’s ear. The woman’s shudders quieted.

  Meanwhile, Nicole had begun to pace around the room, mumbling, “We should wake the children now and get them ready.”

  Josh trailed her. He reminded Tenzin of a child lost in the supermarket, not sure who to ask for help.

  Daddy Rip walked to the sofa and offered Tiffany his hand.

  “Come on, Tiff,” he said with his gentle smile that Tenzin loved as much as the children did. “Come on down. Before you get a boo-boo.”

  Tenzin saw him give Tiffany a quick wink.

  “Oh, you,” Tiffany said, her hands on her hips.

  Then, as if they were in music class, Tiffany sang, “Michael told me about you-ooo. About what you asked him in the canoe-ooo. You naughty little boy, Rippy-poo.”

  Rip closed his eyes, and Tenzin thought he might put his face in his hands and weep.

  With his eyes still closed, he said, “It was a gross misunderstanding.”

  “It sure was gross, all right!” Tiffany laughed. “Does Grace know? No? I didn’t think so. She’s never around, is she? Let’s get her down here.”

  Tiffany cupped her ring-covered fingers around her mouth and yelled toward the stairs, “Oh, Grace!”

  Rip reached up and seized Tiffany’s bare arm, pulling her off the sofa. She landed like a cat on its paws.

  Michael’s voice rolled across the room like thunder. “Hey!”

  Leigh was still slumped in Tenzin’s arms, quietly weeping.

  Nicole said, “Josh, I need you to go to the car and get the bags now.”

  Rip released Tiffany’s arm and stormed across the room to the front door, throwing it open so that the screech of the cicadas filled the room.

  Then he was gone.

  For a beat, the room was silent. Tenzin rubbed Leigh’s back. The mommy finally wasn’t shaking so much.

  Then Allie bounded down the stairs.

  “Dash!” she yelled, piercing the lull, “Dash isn’t there! He’s not in the bed!”

  Susanna appeared behind Allie, plodding down each step with effort, clutching her belly. Her face, Tenzin saw, was bloodless.

  Tenzin heard the patter of footsteps, and a thin voice call from above. “Mama? What’s happening?”

  Levi. Standing in his PJs at the top of the stairs. With Wyatt and Harper.

  Tenzin gently detached herself from Leigh. Now she could really help.

  “Hello, sleepy babies!” she called, hurrying up the stairs.

  the world turned upside down

  Allie

  Allie yelled,
spewing disorganized orders, “Check the deck! The rocks! Check the basement!” Was there a basement?

  Why were they still standing there in the living room, staring at her? Why weren’t they moving? They had to find Dash before he fell into the rocks, under the rocks, before the sea took him, and he floated away. Alone. They’d already put him through swimming lessons, hadn’t they? She couldn’t remember. She almost turned to Susanna to ask.

  They were staring at her. Josh, his hands resting protectively on Nicole’s shoulders. Leigh, red-eyed on the couch. Michael, his hand latched to his beer bottle.

  No one moved.

  “Go!” Allie said, “Go find Dash. Please!”

  And like a hammer hitting glass, they splintered, Nicole running toward the kitchen, calling out, “I’ll see if he’s in the basement.” Michael, his voice thunderous, “I got the deck and the rocks.” Josh, taking the stairs in long strides, “I’ll check upstairs.”

  Susanna had dropped into a chair and was crying, a sound that made Allie think of an animal. A keening.

  Tenzin helped the children downstairs, and they crowded around Susanna, their arms goose-bumped, their eyes unblinking.

  “Mommy,” Levi said to Allie, on the edge of tears, “where’s Dash?”

  “Do you know where he is, sweetie?” Allie knelt in front of him and cupped his cold elbows in her palms. “If you do, tell us right away. So we can get him and bring him here where’s he’s safe.”

  Levi began to cry.

  “Levi! Listen to me!”

  Then she looked at Susanna, whose eyes were open but unseeing and remembered that afternoon on the beach right before Susanna threw up, Susanna demanding Allie comfort the boys.

  “Everything will be okay,” Allie said, wiping at Levi’s cheeks with her thumbs. “Stay here with Mama. I’ll go get Dash.”

  She remembered the windows upstairs. Did they have screens? Definitely not bars. Oh fuck, what if she left the windows open?

  As she took the stairs two at a time, she heard Tenzin say, “Come, Levi, put your hand on Mama’s belly. Feel your new baby kick.”

  Allie tripped and righted herself at the top of the stairs, remembering that friend of Susanna’s whose three-year-old had fallen through a window screen to his death and how Susanna had cried in the bathtub for hours after she’d heard the news. His head on rocks. A splash of blood. Still alive when they made it to the hospital. But not for long. They had planted trees in the park in his memory. Fucking trees for a beautiful boy.