“Brooke, you coming? I’ll walk you to your office,” Aimee offered.
“No, I’m going to sit for a minute,” Brooke said. She was moved by the image of Lux’s rage and wanted a quiet minute to figure a sketch that might someday become a painting. She did not want to lose the way the red hair had flown back and Lux’s mouth became wet and hard with anger. Margot was perfectly polite in a businessfriend way as she said a quick good-bye at the door.
“Should we set another meeting?” Aimee asked. “Same time next Tuesday?”
“Mm, send me an email,” Brooke murmured into her sketchbook.
“Call me when I’m sitting at my calendar,” Margot said as she disappeared down the hall, high heels clicking against the fine marble flooring.
Aimee got up and wandered down the hallway. She wondered if they would come back next week. Margot seemed personally offended by the whole event. Brooke would always be her friend. They’d been naked together too many times for that to ever end, but Aimee was sorry to lose Margot. She assumed their relationship would diminish into one of those business friendships that have no real loyalty or even affection. They would smile at each other and make some jokes to pass the day at the office, but that’s all.
Aimee walked back to her office, feeling like she had allowed her pain to ruin a really good thing.
10. Children
MARGOT GRABBED HER MESSAGES and returned to her office, feeling sorry that The Tuesday Erotica Club was falling apart so spectacularly. This is why women can’t be friends, she said to herself as she sat down at her desk. We get catty. We get mean. We pull hair, literally and figuratively. We have no boundaries. This is why I never had women friends. They’re scary. I don’t need them. In her big stack of messages, she saw that there was one from her little brother, Amos. How strange, Margot thought.
“Mosy?” she said when he answered his phone. She could hear the tractor in the background and figured he was right in the middle of harvesting something or other. “Everything ok?”
“Nope,” he said in the monotone he used to indicate joy, sorrow, and all points in between. “I got some trouble and it’s heading your way.”
Amos, like all of Margot’s younger brothers, was startlingly handsome until he spoke. It wasn’t just the monotone. His obsession with the health of his cows and crops and the second coming of Jesus all managed to dull the blue of his eyes and the cut of his washboard stomach. Still, he was a good man and as long as he stayed outside her apartment, Margot loved him very much.
“Ohmygod! Is Pop ok?” Margot asked as panic rose. “He’s fine. It’s me,” Amos intoned.
“Oh, Mosy! What happened? Are you ill? You can’t be ill. You’re never ill.”
“Oh Allie, I’m about to die!”
When her brother said “Oh Allie,” he was referring to Margot herself. Her brothers had never accepted her name change and “Allie” had a way of transporting her back home, very quickly. Those same syllables also made her hit the brakes on the ride, not wanting to get sucked back into all the things she had already escaped from. Her brother’s monotone declaration of impending doom made her wish she had not returned his urgent phone call.
“You can’t believe what happened. Adele left me,” he said.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Margot said, picturing the bright and pretty little sexpot Amos had married fleeing the confines of her brother’s farm. “And right in the middle of summer too.”
“And she took the kids.”
“Oh dear.”
“And she got on a train.”
“Poor Mosy.”
“And she’s headed to New York,” her brother said and let that last fact hang in the air until Margot got the full effect of her sister-in-law’s sudden travel plans.
“FUCK!” Margot said.
“Miss Allie Potty Mouth! I do NOT want you talking that way around my kids.”
“Kids!”
“Right.”
“She’s coming with the kids?”
More was said, much of it potty mouth on the part of Margot. And yet, the fact that her sister-in-law was, even as they argued, bulleting her way straight to New York City with her young children in tow could not be denied.
“When will she get here?”
“Four hours.”
“FUCK!” Margot said again as she hung up the phone. There was a weekend sale at Henri Bendel’s and a by-invitation-only sample sale at one of the design colleges. She’d worked hard to wrangle that invite to the college. And she had a ticket for the ballet. She flew out of her office and interrupted her assistant.
“I know when you started here I promised there would be no personal business, but I find I have an emergency personal favor that’s easy to execute, and I would so appreciate it if you would do it for me,” Margot said to her assistant.
“Whatever you need, Margot,” her assistant said as he looked up from the novel he was reading. For a minute, Margot wondered if she could impose on this nice young man, an actor, to entertain her family this weekend. She wondered if she would be more willing to impose on him if he was a woman and she was a man. Could she at least ask him to go collect her kin from the train station, as they were coming in unexpected and in the middle of her business day?
“Could you,” Margot began, paused and then continued with, “see if you can get me four more of these ballet tickets. The four new ones should be together, but they don’t have to be anywhere near this one I already have.”
“Sure. No problem.”
“And I guess I’m gone for the rest of the day. Errands and then the train station, but don’t hesitate to call me on my cell for any reason whatsoever. Ok?”
“You got it,” he said and, sliding a bookmark into his novel, started to work on her tickets.
Margot raced to the grocery store to fill her empty refrigerator with the kinds of foods she thought her sister-in-law and the kids might like, such as mayonnaise and cheese that came in individually wrapped slices. Then she grabbed a taxi to the station and got there before their train pulled in. She stood on the platform and tried to remember the names of her nephews, three interchangeable faces with an identical river of green and yellow boogers rolling between nose and upper lip. Her sister-inlaw, Adele, had been a beautiful, lusty virgin on her wedding day. Then within the first four years of her marriage, she gave birth to three children. She must be huge by now, Margot thought, with breasts like watermelons. Margot kept her eyes peeled for a woman the size of a house, towing three small snot machines.
“Aunt Allie?” asked the little boy standing right in front of her.
“Oh!” Margot gasped at the angelic face that was a perfect replica of her brother at his most beautiful. She looked around for Adele, but all she saw was little boys. For a moment Margot panicked that Adele had sent the boys alone.
“She goes by Margot now,” said the tallest of the boys in a high, tired woman’s voice. Margot looked twice before she had to admit that the dull, skinny thing in the blue jeans standing behind the three healthy, glowing boys was her once bodacious sister-in-law, Adele. It looked to Margot like Adele’s life force had been sucked into her children.
“How are you, Margot?” Adele began wearily. “I’m so sorry to impose on you like this. I just got up too early this morning and started looking through a magazine while I was cooking breakfast and the next thing you know I was, I was, was, was.”
Adele couldn’t say it, but clearly the next thing she was, was on her way to the station with her children. Given that Margot was probably the only person Adele knew on the other end of any train line, Margot became her destination.
“Come on. Let’s get a cab. You tell me all about it back at the apartment.”
In the taxi back to the apartment, all three boys kept their noses pressed against the windows, looking in awe at the city and occasionally glancing at their Aunt Margot, as if they could not believe someone they knew lived here. Clean and snot-free, they were quite charming.
> “They’re so well-behaved,” Margot marveled as her three nephews hunkered down in front of her big TV set.
“Well, the television is on. And they’re shell-shocked from the trip,” Adele said. “It’s a little scary for them.” “And for you?”
Adele’s silence seemed like a good point for Margot to jump in.
“So, Adele, why are you here?”
That morning, Adele woke up early. She set out a fine breakfast of coffee, milk, toast, bacon, and eggs for all of her responsibilities. While they ate, she began leafing through a woman’s magazine that made it seem, to her at least, like every other woman on the planet was living in search of the perfect orgasm. In comparison, Adele suddenly believed her life was cow poop molded into a constant cycle of laundry, cooking, and cleaning. In Adele’s world, a woman fell exhausted into bed every night, sometimes in her clothes, sometimes without even scraping the debris of three small boys and a blithe husband off her blouse. In some other place in the world, women were rating their orgasms on a scale of one to ten and suffering to wear high-heeled sandals studded with rhinestones. And so that morning, instead of driving carpool, Adele decided to escape her life, taking with her only the few things she absolutely needed to live. Those few things were named Harry, Eric, and Amos Jr.
“I dunno, Margot,” Adele said dully. “I’m usually fine as long as I stay away from women’s magazines. You know, the glossy ones where everyone’s getting more than you ever will. Amos says they’re an agent of the devil and today I’m thinking he might be right.”
“Oh dear,” Margot said as she opened a bag of cookies and placed them on a plate. Adele reached out to take one, but before her hand reached the plate three small boys swarmed the kitchen and gobbled up all the cookies. They were hunkered down back in front of the TV before Margot could blink.
“They’re growing boys,” said Adele, the shrinking woman.
Margot suddenly began to think in magazine ads. The sidebar that would best apply to Adele might read: What To Do When Your Clitoris Has Fallen Off.
“I hope you’ll let me and the boys take you out to lunch,” Adele said sweetly, “and then we’ll be on our way back home.”
Margot thought of her weekend plans, the lovely sales and shops she could visit if she agreed with Adele’s plan and set her on her way right now.
“Actually, I was planning on shopping,” Margot began, “at the toy store this very afternoon. And I can’t imagine what I would buy without some children there to point out the good things.”
Adele looked relieved. And exhausted. And small and sexless.
“I’m thinking lunch and a nap for you, while me and my nephews take a walk.”
“Oh, I don’t think you can handle three on your own,” Adele said wearily, “especially not in a toy store.”
“Of course I can,” said Margot with a glance to the three angels on the couch. “Let’s get you set up for a little rest and rejuvenation while the boys and I tear up the town.”
Margot had used the phrase “tear up the town” as a metaphor. Standing with three small boys in the middle of a large toy store, she felt it literally. Adele was right. She needed reinforcements. She couldn’t call one of her many business colleagues. This would be an inappropriate imposition. She needed to call a friend, and since Margot only had two to choose from, which number to dial wasn’t a hard decision.
“Aimee,” Margot wailed into her little cell phone, hoping the crumbs and smear of chocolate that now covered the mouthpiece would not interfere with reception. She explained the situation, promised it would be good practice for Aimee’s own future and then tried not to beg when she added, “can you come help me now?”
“Of course I will,” Aimee said, really glad that Margot had called her. She put her phone down, forgot her own troubles, and dialed Brooke’s extension.
“Margot’s in deep doo-doo with three boys in Times Square,” she told Brooke, using a tone she hoped sounded fun-filled and not at all urgent. “She needs our help.”
“Margot’s in a bar in Times Square?” Brooke asked. “No. Toy store.”
“What the heck’s she doing in a toy store?” “Let’s go find out.”
“Mmmmmmmm, ok,” Brooke said, game for any adventure that had three boys in it. Aimee waited to explain to Brooke the true nature of Margot’s crisis until they were already on the subway and Brooke was, in some way, already committed to going.
“What the heck,” Brooke said, and then with a warm squeeze of Aimee’s hand added, “let’s go save Margot.”
The little one was weeping over a hand-held electronic toy that cost more than a medium-sized television set. It wasn’t so much the cost of one, for Margot, but their insistence that if the little one got it, the other two had to have it too. Margot was going to just give in and drop $700 more than she had intended to spend that day when the older boy let it slip that Daddy didn’t approve and would not be pleased if they came home with even one of this particular toy.
When Aimee and Brooke arrived, they saw the three boys crowded around Margot, each explaining their separate, urgent needs. They stopped a few feet away and watched the disaster unfold.
“But! But! It’s so cool!” the little boy squealed again. “I’m sure Daddy will like it once he sees it!”
“I really gotta pee!” the middle boy said for the fourth or possibly tenth time.
“What do you mean you don’t have any breakfast bars in your purse?” the eldest inquired, loudly and clearly insulted by the thought.
“I don’t think we should separate,” Margot said. “If one of us has to pee we all need to head over to the ladies’ room.”
“I’m NOT going into the ladies’ room,” the eldest boy informed her.
“Well, you guys can’t be in the store alone, and they’ll arrest me if I go into the men’s room, so I think we’re going into the ladies’ room all together,” Margot told him.
“I’d rather sit in the barnyard and eat shit than go into a ladies’ room,” the boy screamed at her.
“Potty mouth! Potty mouth,” the other two boys started shouting and pointing at their eldest brother like Donald Sutherland in the final scene of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
“So, this is motherhood,” Aimee said to Brooke.
“Don’t be frightened, honey,” Brooke said. “This is like sneaking into a horror movie at the grisliest scene.”
“I’m up for the challenge. Let’s rescue Margot before she loses a body part.”
Smiling broadly, Aimee and Brooke strolled over to Margot and her darling demons.
“Hey there, why don’t you let me take you to the bathroom,” Aimee said, kneeling down and using her most gentle voice.
“Stranger! Stranger!” the little one screamed as he clung to Margot’s leg, nearly tripping her.
“No, no, Eric, this is my friend Aimee. She can take you to the bathroom. It’s ok,” Margot promised.
“I don’t want to go to the bathroom with her,” the middle boy said. “I want to go to the bathroom with HER!”
Margot and Aimee turned to where the boy was pointing. Brooke, surprised, smiled brightly.
“Ok, who needs to pee?” Brooke offered.
All three boys raised their hands.
“I thought you wouldn’t go into a ladies’ room,” Margot asked the eldest of her nephews.
“Well, not with you, Aunt Allie,” he said, smiling at Brooke.
“Who is Aunt Allie?” Aimee asked.
“Me. I’ll explain later,” Margot sighed.
“Well then,” Brooke said as if it were the most exciting destination in the city, “let’s go to the bathroom!”
They traveled as a large, cumbersome crowd across the toy store. Even though the destination had been agreed upon, and even though they sought it with some urgency, it still took twenty minutes to cross the floor to the ladies’ room. On the way, they picked up and put down three teddy bears, a stack of Yu-Gi-Oh! cards, (“incomprehensible,�
� Margot declared), a bag of balls that lit up when they bounced, and one lone clothes hanger that the middle boy used to pretend he was Captain Hook, until he accidentally hooked it into the mouth of his elder brother.
“Break it up! Break it up!” Aimee called as they began a fistfight in front of the ladies’ room. She had lost the silvery sweetness of her first greeting and was now talking in the sort of voice that might belong to a harried teacher, a hockey coach, or maybe an arresting officer. She was pleasantly surprised when the boys responded quickly and respectfully to her growled command. They stopped trying to kill each other and waited silently for their next orders. Cool, Aimee thought.
“Now, who has to pee?” Margot asked.
No one answered.
“Didn’t you have to pee, Eric?” Margot asked the middle nephew.
“I’m Eric,” said the youngest.
“I’m so sorry,” Margot said. “Harry, you said you have to pee.”
“Yeah, I did, but I don’t have to anymore.”
“Did you wet your pants?” Margot asked her voice filled with deep dread.
“I am NOT a baby,” Harry said, offended to his core.
“Then you still have to pee,” Margot informed him. “Pee doesn’t just disappear.”
“No, I don’t have to go anymore.”
“Yes, you do,” Margot explained. “The urine is still in your body. You have to get it out.”
“Maybe later,” he said.
“Later you will be in a panic and we won’t be anywhere near a bathroom. After all the work we put into getting across the store and over to the bathroom, I think you’re going to pee now,” Margot informed him, but he stubbornly dug his heels in and would not enter the bathroom. Margot looked up at her friends, pleading for aid.
“If you don’t pee,” Aimee told Harry, “no toy.”
Harry quickly entered the ladies’ room, followed by his two brothers.
The other women already in the bathroom were unaffected by the arrival of three little boys and their female escorts. This was a toy store, after all, full of bleary-eyed parents trying desperately not to lose the bodies and souls of their media-saturated children. Margot crossed to the sink. It came up to her knees. She bent down and washed her hands, surprised by how dirty they were. Still, she felt that a crisis had been averted.
Tuesday Erotica Club Page 9
