“I love your bag.” I leaned closer to Kit, but spoke loud enough for Scott to hear. Let him see I wasn’t the only one carrying one. At least I’d inherited mine from an aunt who bought one each year and decided black had become gauche. Aside from the two-year waiting list, purchasing one cost as much as a house payment.
Kit smiled so big her cheeks took on a rosy glow. “I just got a violet suede. Next time we get together, I’ll bring it.”
“Oh, don’t start on those purses,” Mark said, taking a sip off his whiskey. “We went to Paris this spring and she spent an entire day looking at purses.”
“They just don’t understand,” Kit said in a loud whisper.
“You bought one in Paris? That’s like the mother ship calling you home.” Someday I was going to spend a week in Paris, just eating and shopping. It was on my list of life goals, but kept getting pushed down by violin lessons and soccer games.
“It was wonderful.” She ran a hand along the top of her bag. “They reconditioned this one while we were there. It was a fabulous trip, and not just for the shopping. It was so relaxing to just be together without the kids. After the move, you two should do it.”
“That’s a great idea,” Scott said before I even had time to roll my eyes. He hadn’t taken a vacation in three years. I wasn’t sure if he was putting on for his new co-workers or if life could really be different at the new company. I didn’t dare hope. “This is the closest we’ve had to a vacation in years, but there is too much to get done to relax. I’m interviewing people all day long and Jess is interviewing schools.”
“Really, which ones?” Kit’s eyes sparkled as I regaled her with my day. Scott actually looked like he was paying attention too.
Liz chimed in with her experiences, and before the appetizers arrived I had two more schools to visit and the number of a woman who Kit swore could move the kids up the waitlist at the Waldorf school. From talking to the women I got the impression that Scott was onto something; we might not need private school for the kids if the schools the Nelson and Watts kids were in lived up to the PTA hype.
And then it hit, the ubiquitous “And what do you do?” that all mothers of young children abhor. Seth Watts stared down the slope of his pointy nose at me, and I knew there wasn’t a right answer to the question. There never was. If you ‘just’ stayed home you lacked ambition, if you worked from home you were branded quaint, and when you laid claim to a career you must be ignoring your children. And that was just in your own head.
With my life in flux I didn’t even know the answer. I had a great job, certainly brag-worthy, but in a few short months it would be moot. Not to mention I ‘worked’ less than ten hours a week, all of it while my kids were dreaming. An ideal situation I was loathe to give up.
“Jessica writes restaurant reviews for the Post.” Scott leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Any restaurant you’ve ever heard of in New York, she’s written it up.”
“How exciting,” Kit cooed.
“Some nice perks for you.” Seth nudged Scott.
“Not really. I haven’t been home much in the last two years, so when I am it’s family time. I think I’ve gone to what, two dinners with you?”
I nodded, amazed he’d noticed. I always made sure my copy was filed before he was due home. With my parents to help with the kids, and my girlfriends to help eat the food I ordered, I didn’t really need him.
Funny. I suddenly realized that my job always took a backseat to our family until he announced the move. Only then was it a bargaining chip. Did I really want traveling back to New York every month to be my reality?
But without the byline, I’d be relegated to defining myself by Scott and the kids. Kit Nelson seemed to flourish in that light, but while washed in my own thoughts I couldn’t help but notice Liz Watts blush and flounder through an explanation of her direct sales job. I needed to write my own story, not have it dictated by someone else. Even someone who loved me beyond reason.
“I just have to tell you,” Kit began as we reapplied lip gloss in the bathroom mirror. “We went to one of Liz’s parties and I thought Mark was going to have a heart attack. I’m not judging. I just don’t want you to be as surprised as we were.”
“Surprised by what?” I’d been so caught up in my own head all night, I hadn’t paid much attention to anyone else.
Kit pursed her red lips and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know how to say it, so I’m just going to come out with it. Her couples parties are for couples looking for other couples.”
I forced myself to close my mouth. “That’s what she sells?”
She laughed. “No, no. It’s actually a business. She comes to your house and sets up a sexy adult toy store in your living room. It’s fun for a bridal shower, but we didn’t know what to expect so we were kind of blindsided by people, well, testing the merchandise in front of everyone.”
“Good to know.” We both giggled like teenagers. It was a wonder we were able to collect ourselves and make it back to the table in time for dessert.
Not that my mind calmed. I couldn’t help the scenes flashing through my mind, even though the monotony of flourless chocolate
