“No,” Mrs. Smart said. “They were part of the overall cupcake problem.”
“Right, overstated.” Christy said.
“Ex-aaaaaactly.”
“Well, thanks for letting us know. Christy’ll be more careful in the future,” Andrea said.
“Soul murderer,” Christy mumbled, as Mrs. Smart walked away.
Andrea shook her head. “Colby is one hard place to understand, but don’t worry. We’ll crack this nut.”
“No, we won’t,” Christy said. “Didn’t you know? Colby is a nut-free school.”
Tawdry Tales
The phone rang while Christy was waiting for Renata to come home. It was Brownie.
“Christy,” she said, “Your thank-you note arrived today.”
“Oh, I’m glad you got it,” Christy said. Finally, she thought, I did something right. Lovely thank-you notes, personal messages, mailed immediately, on perfect stationery, containing much-appreciated Knicks tickets.
“The other ladies also got notes. Why weren’t they sent to me for vetting?”
Christy started to laugh and then covered it up with a cough. “You need to approve my thank-you notes?”
“They were written to the graduation committee, were they not?”
“Well, yes,” Christy said.
“Have you forgotten our conversation? I told you I had to see and approve all communications to the committee, that I needed three days’ notice. Is this not a communication?”
“It’s a thank-you note.”
“A thank-you note is a communication. If you ever pull a stunt like that again, you’ll be fired,” Brownie said.
Christy didn’t understand how she could be fired from a nonpaying job, but she kept her mouth shut. She now considered it a personal challenge to keep her cool with this woman.
“Have you made progress on my dinner with Scottie?” Brownie asked.
It amazed Christy that Brownie could bawl her out in one breath, then ask for a favor in another. “Michael’s working on it,” she said noncommitally.
The front door opened. Renata and Nectar came in. Nectar was holding the Tupperware box of cupcakes. The invitations had been removed and stuffed inside the container.
“Gotta run, Brownie,” she said, happy for an excuse to hang up.
“Can you believe Renata’s teacher wouldn’t serve these beautiful cupcakes?” Nectar said. “Now what kind of teacher would tell a child that her cupcakes were overdone?” She tilted her chin up to snob level and stuck out her bottom jaw. “‘We’re all about understatement here at Colby,’” Nectar said, capturing Mrs. Smart’s upper-crust tone perfectly. Christy cracked up.
Renata walked over to the couch and sat down. She looked at Christy glumly. Her chin started to quiver.
“Well, I for one am glad Mrs. Smart wouldn’t serve your cupcakes. You know why?” Christy said.
Renata shook her head silently.
“Because there’s more for us! C’mon, girls, let’s have a cupcake party.”
Renata made half a smile. “Can we invite Mrs. De Mille?”
“That’s a great idea. Shall I call her?” Christy offered.
“No, we have to go to her house. She can’t get out of bed,” Renata said.
“I’ll get the milk and meet you downstairs,” Nectar offered.
That afternoon, Renata, Christy, Nectar, Mrs. De Mille, and Mr. Koodles had a party on Mrs. De Mille’s soft and cozy queen-size bed.
“What a beautiful boudoir jacket, Mrs. De Mille,” Christy said, complimenting her baby-blue satin-and-lace cover-up. She was impressed that, as sick as the old lady was, her long salmon-colored hair was brushed and shiny, framing her made-up face. Close up, the white powder and eye makeup were slightly alarming, but the old girl was still in the game.
“Thank you,” she said primly. “It was given to me by one of my favorite lovers, Captain Louis Francisco Grant of the Canadian Mounties. He bought it for me at Lord and Taylor in 1955.”
“Is he still one of your boyfriends?” Renata asked.
“Oh no, child. He died in the eighties. I do miss the bastard,” she said with regret. “I may be a wrinkly old dinosaur, but I’m still horny as hell.”
Christy blew a mouthful of cupcake across the bed when she heard that. Luckily, it hit the wall behind Mrs. De Mille and stuck. Christy ran to the dresser to grab a Kleenex and wipe it off.
“What does ‘horny’ mean?” Renata asked.
“Never you mind, child,” the old lady snorted. “You’re too young to know about these things.”
“Mrs. De Mille, you should not be eating in bed,” her nurse interrupted. “It’s unsanitary.”
“You think I give a pygmy’s ass? Pardon my French, dear,” she said to Renata, patting her hand gently. “We’re having fun. Go away, you party pooper.”
“This is too much excitement for you,” the nurse said. “I’m calling your son.”
“He won’t care. The greedy bastard can’t wait till I’m dead. Just wants to get his goddamn bony hands on my money.”
“Another cupcake?” Christy interrupted.
“No thank you, dear,” she said primly.
Nectar ate two cupcakes. Renata ate two. Mrs. De Mille ate a half. Mr. Koodles ate the other half. The nurse ate one. Christy ate the rest. She didn’t want any of Renata’s cupcakes to go unclaimed, lest the girl’s feelings be hurt even more.
“You do have an appetite,” Mrs. De Mille said to Christy.
“Yes, well, I used to be a runner. I had to eat four thousand calories a day just to maintain my weight.”
“Do you still run?” Mrs. De Mille asked.
“No, not lately,” Christy said.
“That’s why she’s looking so plump,” Nectar explained.
“I don’t look plump,” Christy said.
“Oh, yes, you do, child. But it suits you. Mrs. De Mille, when I first met Christy, there weren’t an ounce of meat on those bones of hers. But now, ‘Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens.’ That’s a direct quote from As You Like It.”
“Was that really necessary, Nectar?” Christy said, running into Mrs. De Mille’s bathroom to see if she was looking plump. She stepped on the scale that sat in the corner. Aaahhh! Christy ran back in the bedroom. “I’ve gained twelve pounds.” She immediately resolved to diet and start running again.
Mrs. De Mille weighed in. “Did I ever tell you about my first husband, Mr. Henry De Mille? Henny. I called him ‘Henny.’ He was handsome and charming, other than his hairy fingers, which were disgusting. But in those
