In a matter of seconds, the ASC ladies are seated and looking at Tish like eager, slightly startled pupils. It is the first time in her life that Gina has been thankful for the fear her mother-in-law instills in people.
Gina takes out her laptop and opens her phone’s recording app to properly document the meeting.
She is so distracted with thoughts of Eva Stone and her unnerving resemblance to Penelope that she doesn’t notice Alice hasn’t arrived.
Eleven
Alice
Thursday, September 12th
Alice is speeding. Thirty-five miles per hour may not seem like a lot, but she is on Victoria Road—a residential street filled with signs reading, Children Playing—25mph. She remembers the day the ASC voted on fonts for the signs. How depressing that this type of thing is now a permanent part of her memory bank.
Normally, Alice wouldn’t mind being tardy to a meeting. Tardiness is a specialty of hers, mainly because it pisses off Tish. But today she is actually curious to see how those competitively nice women will react to the video. It’s been a little over two hours since Eva Stone went public with her accusation and already there’s a hashtag trending on Twitter: #AlmaBootsScandal.
It’s possible that Alice is somewhat happy about it. OK, very happy.
Alice parks her Range Rover and hurries out of the car. She is about to dash into the building when she catches a glimpse of her own feet. She curses under her breath. She has forgotten to take off her Stuart Weitzman suede ankle boots, which means that she is basically walking into a Coca-Cola meeting drinking Pepsi—at least that’s what the zealots on the other side of the building will think. And today Alice does not want to distract them.
She walks back to the car and searches her trunk, relieved to find a pair of Alma Boots’ golden Aurora patent leather ballet slippers. They’re flats, but today Alice will have to navigate the world without a few extra inches. She quickly slips them on and heads inside.
Tish is standing center stage when Alice walks into the meeting room. The space is wide and drafty and gives Alice the feel of a repurposed old church. Tish interrupts whatever she had been saying to give Alice an intense side-eye. Probably, she was in the middle of a mind-numbing pep talk. We love Alma, yes we do! We love Alma, how about you? Or something equally bizarre.
“Alice,” Tish says. “So nice of you to join us.” Her tone is leveled, but her eyes make it clear that she is not amused.
If they weren’t in public, Alice would respond in kind. But not here. The ASC is Tish’s turf, and Alice respects this. Theirs is a cold war. They maintain a modicum of civility in public. An unwritten rule they both understand and, for the most part, adhere to. Tish is winning: Alice is living in Alma, she doesn’t have a career. But not for long.
Alice takes a seat in the back row.
“As I was saying,” Tish continues, sweeping her eyes across the room, “I’ve been ASC president for over thirty years now and I couldn’t be prouder of the work we’ve accomplished during this time.”
“Hear, hear!” says Nancy Simmons, who’s sitting on Alice’s left. Beside her, Karen Park bobs her head enthusiastically. Sheep, all of them.
“But the time has come for me to step down,” Tish says.
A collective gasp.
Alice frowns. Is she hallucinating—could it be the oxy? She only took two today. She steals a look at Gina, who, as always, is seated at the secretary’s antique mahogany desk, hunched over her laptop. Seconds ago, she’d been typing furiously but is now staring at Tish, her mouth hanging open like an oven door.
“It’s time to let the new generation take over.” Tish clasps her hands together. “As you know, I hail from Connecticut, but I like to think that a part of me was born when I became an Almanac.” She brings a hand to her heart. “The greatest blessing of my life, of course, was having my twin boys, but a close second was being welcomed by this incredibly special town. A town that I am proud to call my home.” Tish’s voice quivers a little. A calibrated effort, Alice is sure of it. Tish is only sentimental when it suits her.
It feels as though someone is flicking a light switch on and off inside Alice’s brain. Tish is retiring from the ASC?
“I’ll still be involved in the club, of course. I’ll be an honorary member, like Margaret and Elise.” Tish pauses to acknowledge the old farts sitting in the front row with a gracious nod. Attendance is not mandatory for honorary members, but Margaret and Elise are here every Thursday without fail. No doubt this is the highlight of their week. This and talking to their plants. “But I’ll no longer be your president.”
Vegan Liz raises her hand. “When is this happening, Tish?” she asks.
“Oh, there’s no rush. I’ll finish my term, of course, but then it’ll be time for us…” Tish pauses, her lips curling into a sheepish smile. “Excuse me, for you to elect a new president.”
Alice nearly scoffs when she hears the word term. According to the ASC’s bylaws, a president’s term is renewed every year in May, but never in the history of Alma has anyone dared to run against a sitting president, which basically means that Tish is more of an unopposed dictator.
“I’m sure it comes as no surprise to hear that, when the time comes, I’ll be endorsing Gina Dewar, my very competent daughter-in-law, to be our next president.” Tish waves her open palm in Gina’s direction.
Gina flushes, her cheeks now matching her grotesque tie-dye sweater. She seems genuinely surprised. She must not have known about this until now, which is odd since she and Tish are as thick as thieves.
“I don’t have to sell you on Gina. Gina Dewar is an example to us
