“Your mama chakra system,” Emily finished for me, her eyes bright with excitement. “Someone has been reading Motherhood Better!”
“Absolutely!” I said, ignoring Kimmie’s mouth hanging open. “It’s so important to clear yourself every morning. It has made the biggest difference in my life. My love tank is full.” I clasped my hands together in silent prayer.
Janice and Lauren stared at me like I was from a different planet.
“That’s absolutely wonderful!” Emily exclaimed.
“Namaste.” I bowed to her.
Kimmie glared at me.
Emily’s assistant placed an enormous bundle of loose wicker in front of each woman.
“Ooh, goodie! Is everyone ready? I trust you read over the instructional materials for Basket Making 101 in your welcome packet?”
The only thing I remember about the welcome packet was that it contained a bar of expensive chocolate.
Everyone flew into craft mode and began twisting and winding the pieces of wicker around long pieces of wood to create a frame for their baskets.
I watched Emily out of the corner of my eye and copied every movement she made. To my surprise, I was actually keeping up.
“Good job, Ashley! You’re really a pro at this,” Emily said, grinning.
“I love crafts,” I lied through my teeth. Turning to Kimmie, I eyed her progress. She was clearly struggling to manipulate the wicker. It wasn’t easy, considering her long, acrylic nails. “Do you need some help, Kim?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Well, don’t hesitate to ask. The key to success in motherhood and in life is to reach out when you need to.” I’d memorized that quote from Emily’s book during breakfast.
Emily looked up and absolutely beamed at me.
Kimmie was silent.
I started to really get into it and added my own personal flair to my basket by alternating different shades of wicker. So this is what the big fuss about crafting is about? I thought. It was actually pretty relaxing!
The craft was just wrapping up. To my utter surprise, I finished my basket first! It wasn’t perfect, but it was done. My first successful craft was complete!
“Wow, Ashley! You’re the first one done. Go ahead and use the paring knife to smooth out the splinters. Brava!”
“I’m also done!” shouted Kimmie. I looked at her basket. It appeared to have been run over by a truck.
“Good effort, Kimmie! I guess we have a tie!”
I stood up and rushed over to the knife station, determined to finish fine-tuning my basket before Kimmie. She must have sensed my intention because she jumped up at the same time. We walk-ran awkwardly over to the table and I picked up the small knife first.
“Shame, you’ll just have to wait,” I said, tightly.
Kimmie grabbed the knife out of my hand. “I guess you will,” she hissed, out of Emily’s earshot.
I tried to wrestle it away from her. “You know, you’ve been getting under my skin since we got here. What’s your problem?”
Kimmie grabbed the knife back. “My problem is that you don’t belong here. Look at you. Mellie the dog mom would have been a better contestant.”
“Oh, yeah? At least I’m not a complete phony. I’d be surprised if you even had any kids.” Kimmie’s face fell. I went to grab the knife back but at the last second she lowered it, causing the blade to go directly into my palm.
A stream of blood spouted up and onto the front of my sweatshirt.
I screamed. Emily and several women rushed over.
“Oh, my!” Emily yelled. She grabbed an apron off of a wall hook and pressed it to my wound. “What happened?”
I looked over at Kimmie who had gone as white as a sheet. Her eyes were filled with tears.
“I slipped,” I said.
“I’ll take you to First Aid. We had a doctor stay for the week just in case something like this happened.”
Kimmie stepped forward. “No, I’ll take her. She’s my roommate.”
Kimmie and I were silent as we walked to the main house. It wasn’t until the doctor had seen me and put some gauze over my palm (which turned out to have just a surface wound) and left the room that she burst into tears. Not tears—more like heaving sobs.
I was stunned. “Kimmie, it was an accident. I shouldn’t have reached for the knife like that,” I said, sitting across from her.
The tears continued to fall and snot poured out of her nose. I handed her a tissue.
She blew her nose. “It’s not that. I’m so sorry for how I’ve been treating you, Ashley. You didn’t deserve it.”
I wanted to say, “No, I didn’t,” but this didn’t seem the right time to rub it in.
“It’s just that...” Kimmie blew her nose again and struggled to stop crying “... I know I’m not going to win the contest. I’m a crap mom. I can’t cook. I can’t craft. I lied on almost all of my journal entries. I’m a complete fraud. Compared to someone like you, I’m a complete mess.”
Huh?
“Kimmie. Someone like me? Just what kind of mom do you think I am?”
Kimmie shot me an “oh, you know what I mean” look. “Come on, Ashley. I couldn’t survive without my nanny and getting meals delivered daily. You do it all by yourself. You’re probably so hands-on and patient all the time. You’re the perfect mom.”
I couldn’t help it, I started to laugh. “Kimmie, I am not the perfect mom. I almost lit my entire house on fire during the craft challenge. I wear the same pants for three, four, seven days in a row. I’d do anything to have a body and sense of style like you.”
Kimmie sniffled. “You think I have a nice body?”
I laughed. “Okay, let’s go back to the group.”
As we made our way back, things felt different. More relaxed. Not having Kimmie as my enemy was pretty awesome. Turns out she didn’t know anything about probiotics and was totally talking out of her backside.
As we were walking, I decided to get some air.
“Kimmie, I’ll meet up with you later. I’m going to take a walk.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. She squeezed my shoulder. “Thanks...for understanding.”
We parted ways and I followed a path through lush greenery and took in the view. Emily’s house was slightly raised, making it possible to see the rows and rows of vineyards the area was famous for. The morning sun felt like heaven on my skin and a light breeze tickled the hair on the back on my neck. I felt like I was in paradise.