I stroll up to the school the next day to wait for Max to come out, and I see what I have been dreading—all the mothers from my class standing around in little klatches, talking and drinking Starbucks. Normally I would be one of them with my grande skim chai latte, but because of my class mom shame, I have been avoiding this scene since the new year started. For the past couple of days, I have had Ron leave the store to do pickup, but today I decide to face the music.
As I walk toward the front of the school, I can’t help but feel like everyone is talking about me. I know I’m just being paranoid. I walk up to Peetsa and Ravital Brown.
“Oh, my God, Jen, we were just talking about you. Where the hell have you been?”
“Did you write that email from Asami as a joke?” asks Ravi. “That was so funny. Best one yet.”
I gave them both a hug. I’ve missed them.
“No, sadly—this time the joke’s on me.”
“So it’s true?” Peetsa gasps. “One of Hunter’s moms tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t believe her.”
“Well, believe it.”
“Jeez. Are you okay?” she asks. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“You were away and I didn’t want to bring you down over the holidays.”
I tell them about my conversation with Principal Jakowski and they react exactly how I would expect my besties to react. Outraged! Infuriated! Bent on revenge! Until I mention the accusation of racism.
“I mean, come on, it was a joke!” I say, exasperated.
They look at me and then at each other and then at the ground.
“What am I missing?” I ask.
Ravi takes the bullet.
“Well, I have to admit when Asami asked me what I thought of the phrase ‘your people’s lust for power,’ I said I thought it was a little off. I mean, now that I know you, I see you were being funny, but at the time I didn’t know what to think.” She looks at her shoes.
“Hey, we all love your emails,” Peetsa adds, “but people are really sensitive about racism. I know you meant it as a joke, but maybe the class email isn’t the best place for it.”
I look at both of them and am about to say something when a swarm of kids runs out the front door. In the sea of winter jackets, Max is easy to spot in his leopard-print coat. He’s carrying Zach B. on his back.
“Hey, Mom. Zach B. is riding me like I’m a horse.”
“Well, you do look like an animal in that coat.” I smile.
I look up at Peetsa and Ravi, who are hugging their boys.
“Ravi, I’m sorry if I offended you. Really. It was a thoughtless thing to write.”
Ravital shakes her head.
“Trust me, I wasn’t that offended.”
“Oh, God, I’m really going to miss your emails,” Peetsa moans.
“What, you don’t like personal-hygiene tips in your class emails?” I ask. “I found that very helpful. A bath! Who would have thought?”
As we are walking to our cars, Peetsa asks me about Nina.
“You know, I haven’t spoken to her since Christmas. She and Chyna came over for dinner, but she was still not herself.”
“Wow, when she goes to the dark place she really pitches a tent.” Peetsa shakes her head. “What did she say about the class mom stuff?”
“I haven’t talked to her about it.” I shrug. “Jakowski told her what he was planning and she said she didn’t want to get involved.”
“That’s cold.”
“I know, right?” Suddenly I feel vindicated. “I really think she could have put the kibosh on this whole thing if she had just taken her head out of her ass for five minutes.”
Peetsa is shaking her head and laughing.
“Too harsh?” I ask.
She puts her thumb and finger up to show me an inch.
I buckle Max into his car seat and as I slide into the minivan I check my phone. I’m rewarded with a text from Don.
You look nice today. Very fit.
I immediately look up to see if he’s watching me.
How the hell would you know?
I caught a glimpse as I was pulling up to get Lulu.
Oh. Well, thanks. What are you up to?
Taking Lulu to dance class. You?
Max has Scouts.
So … still no coffee?
Not today!
But there is the hope of someday?
Absolutely.
I put the phone in my purse and start the minivan. Texts from Don have become kind of a regular thing. I’m enjoying the sparring but can’t help but feel that I’m doing something wrong, like picking my nose in public. Then that feeling gets me pissed off, because I’m just having fun and it feels good to have the attention of someone besides Ron and it doesn’t mean anything and can’t I just have a friend who is a guy, dammit? Welcome to the cocktail party in my head.
I pull out of the school’s parking lot and decide to not think about it any more today.
*
For the next couple of weeks my life goes back to its normal, dull housewifey routine, although without the class mom crap to annoy me I find I have a bit of spare time on my hands.
“Idle hands are the devil’s workshop,” I can hear my mother say. I never fully understood what that meant until I realize that I’m spending most of my spare time either flirty-texting with Don or concocting a plan to sabotage Asami’s picture day efforts. My thoughts go from the benign (tell the kids not to smile, or else) to the macabre (light a fire in school so the sprinklers go off and soak everyone’s hair. Braid that, Asami), but I don’t want to do anything that will hurt or upset the kids, so my options are limited. I consider asking Don to be my accomplice, but realize I want to take either all the credit or all the blame, depending on how things go down.
Garth is pushing me harder than ever, and I have to say I’m pleased with the results. My usual post-holiday five pounds didn’t materialize, so I’m looking and feeling better than I ever have.
“Any plans for the long weekend?” Garth asks as I’m finishing my final set of lunges across the basement floor.
“Nothing much. You?”
“Well, nothing yet, but I thought if you were up for it we could go to Wichita on Saturday. This charity I work with is having a scaled-down indoor mudder at Hartman Arena.”
“An indoor mudder?” I take a swig of water. “They do that?”
“Actually, this is the first one.”
“Sounds dirty and smelly.”
“I’ll be disappointed if it isn’t,” Garth assures me. “I think you need to get a look at what you’ll be facing. You’ve only ever seen it on YouTube. I just want you to get a sense of the scale. What we’re going to see still isn’t a full mudder, but it’s the best I can do in Kansas in February.”
“It’s not a bad idea. Can I bring Max?”
“Sure!” says Garth as he gives me a huge smile. “Aren’t road trips just the best?”
*
I’m standing with Peetsa and Ravi, waiting for the kids to get out of school. It’s warm for January so we don’t have our heads and faces covered as we usually do. I see Don Burgess standing with Kim or Carol Alexander, and I wave. Don holds up his phone and gives me a shrug. He’s wondering why I haven’t answered his text from this morning. I told him I was going to Wichita with my trainer this weekend and he’s been bugging me for details.
Are you going to have coffee with him?
I take my phone out of my pocket and type a quick response.