Sorority Sisters (32 page)

“I'm so glad I reached you. I don't know what to do!” I say. “Maybe nothing, maybe doing nothing is best, but I can't quite believe that. I feel like I need to
do
something.”

“What happened?” Diane says.

“I'm sorry. I should have asked—are you busy?” I move the phone to my left ear.

“No, it's okay. Go ahead.”

“No, really, are you busy?”

“Will you just spit it out?”

“Well, it's about Megan.”

“Obviously. You never get this upset about yourself.”

“This boy Colin, who's a year ahead of her, asked her to the spring dance, and then when she wouldn't let him touch her breast on a date, he told her that he was asking someone else. And she already has the dress. And it's been altered. But of course, that's the least of it, but you know how excited you get when you already have the dress, and all her friends know about her going, and now this. I could just kill that rotten little kid!”

“Laurie, can I just say that being Megan's mom is the best thing that could have happened to you? Your volcano has finally exploded.”

“That sounds awful,” I say, “but what should I do about Megan? The poor girl is just moping around, and she's so embarrassed. She feels like she did something wrong when we both know it's this horrible boy who's entirely at fault.”

“Completely. No discussion required,” Diane says. “But I have to say, it's impressive as all hell that Megan told you about the breast thing. I would never have told my mom anything like that. How'd you get it out of her? Rubber hose? Nyquil?”

“The poor thing was just hysterical. I think she told me without meaning to.”

“That sounds normal.”

“What should I do? Anything? I would just love to call this boy's mother.”

“Well, you know you can't do that.”

“I know, but it's tempting.”

“Yeah, but there are other ways to get revenge. I say fight fire with fire.”

“Diane, I honestly don't see how that would work. . . . Wait. . . . You mean make him suffer?”

“Absolutely. Have you talked to Karen about it?”

“Not yet. She's working on a design project in Pasadena and it's hard for her to find a free minute.”

“Call her. She's got a few boys lying around that you could use,” Diane says. “Call me after you call her. Let me know the scoop, okay?”

“Roger that,” I say, laughing for the first time in two days.

“Roger and out,” Diane says, hanging up.

I'm pacing in the kitchen, which was redesigned by Karen three years ago. Actually, Karen is responsible for an entire reworking of the space, knocking out a wall, adding windows, putting in a new kitchen and all new baths, refurnishing. She even had ideas about the landscaping, beyond the location of the Japanese maple. She has a nice business doing that for people; she calls it
design problem solving
. She calls what I do
marriage problem solving
. She calls what Diane does
naval personnel problem solving
. I think she's in love with the phrase
problem solving
.

“Karen?” I say. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. What's up?”

“It's about Megan. This boy at school, a year older—”

“Older men, always trouble,” she says.

I tell her the story as briefly as I can, and before I even get to the part about how I need a solution, Karen is offering one.

“Okay, here's what I think we should do. We'll get Ben to take her to the dance. No one at her school knows him, so they won't know that he's practically her brother. They'll look cute together and he'll play it like he's dippity-do over her, and Colin can be the one looking like a douche, God willing.”

“Really? Do you think Ben would mind?”

“Well, I'll ask him, but I think he'll do it. If I can explain it just right, he'll be overjoyed.”

“What will you say?”

“Something about how some jerk is trying to make Megan miserable. That should do it,” Karen says. “If he knows he's riding to the rescue, the hero of the story, he'll be dying to do it.”

“Do you want me to ask him?”

“No, I'll do it. I'll call you back. Bye.”

The phone rings while it's still in my hand.

“Did you talk to Karen?” It's Diane.

“Yes, and she thinks Ben will take Megan to the dance and shove Colin's face in it,” I say. “I probably shouldn't say things like that about another child, but—”

“But yeah, who cares. This is our girl we're fighting for. Colin's mom is on her own,” Diane says.

“Hey, that's my other line. Let me call you back.”

“Roger.”

“Hello?”

“Did you talk to Karen?” It's Matt.

“I did, after I talked to Diane, who advised me to talk to Karen,” I say, walking through the great room to sit on the patio in the backyard.

“Karen's the one with sons just hanging around doing nothing,” Matt says.

“That's what Diane said.”

“Is Ben going to do it?”

“Karen's asking him now,” I say. “You know, do you think it might actually take a village to raise a child?”

“It may not take a village, but it does take the Exclusives,” Matt says, chuckling. “Am I going to see you tonight?”

“I'll have to see how this goes. Let me get back to you, okay?”

“If Ben comes through, I want a picture of me pinning her flowers on, or whatever they do nowadays.”

“I think Megan would like that. Oh, there's my other line. Let me call you back.”

“Got it.”

“Hello?”

“Okay, so I talked to Ben and he wants to know what color Megan's dress is so that he can buy her a matching corsage. Is that the sweetest thing?”

“I'm going to kiss that boy the next time I see him. Fair warning.”

“David was so upset when he heard about it that he offered to take Megan. He said that he's tall enough to pass for sixteen and that no one would have to know he's in eighth grade. Charlie's so mad that he's not big enough to take her that he talked about rocking Colin's mailbox. I didn't put much effort into talking him out of it,” Karen says, laughing.

“So you'll bring Ben here? It's this Saturday. I'll drive them. I'll buy the corsage.”

“Are you insane? Ben would die of shame if he didn't pay for the flowers himself. I'm trying to raise a chivalrous bunch here, Laurie. Don't get in my way. What color's the dress?”

“Purple.”

“Like a lavender or a royal or what?”

“Lavender with white accents. She'll be wearing white shoes,” I say.

“Okay, so does she want the flowers to match the dress or does she want contrast?”

“I have no idea.”

“Is she there? Put her on.”

“She's at drill team practice,” I say. “I think she'll trust your judgment on the flowers. I know I do.”

“Okay, and speaking of lavender, how's Lavender Barrette?”

“The same,” I say, getting up from the love seat on the patio and walking over to the pool.

“You mean the same level of impatience that you finally get married or the same level of patience in dealing with the neurotic Ms. McCormick?”

“You're so pushy,” I say.

“Somebody has to be since Matt's clearly falling down on the job. Look, I've got to go. Somebody's trying to call. Call me back with a time!”

I hang up and look around the yard. I wanted a garden wedding once, a wedding like Karen and Jim had at the Bel-Air Country Club. I wanted that wedding with Doug. I never even think of Doug anymore, and in not thinking of Doug, I realize that I've left my self-destructive dating patterns in the past. I thought I was choosing the man to love so perfectly, each time so perfectly, but it's obvious I wasn't. I was repeating a pattern of emotional distance that I learned from my parents. I loved men who kept me out of their lives. But I don't do that with Matt. At least, I don't think I do.

The phone rings in my hand.

“Hello?”

“God, what a prick,” Pi says. “I just heard about Megan and Colonoscopy from Diane. What are we doing to make him suffer?”

I laugh. “His name is Colin.”

“Not as far as I'm concerned. So I hear the plan is for Ben to take Megan and push Colonoscopy's face in it. How's that going?”

“Everything's in place. Ben has agreed; he's buying her flowers with his own money—”

“Sweet kid!”

“And all that's left is for Ben to formally ask Megan to go.”

“She'll say yes, right? I mean, she's not going to feel weird going with Ben.”

“I don't think so.” But I have to admit, I haven't put much thought into it. I've been too busy rescuing her. “I'll talk to her as soon as she gets home.”

“Call me back and tell me what she says, what he says, the whole thing.”

“Okay,” I say. “I'll call you later tonight.”

“Smell ya,” Pi says and hangs up.

I walk back in the house and put the phone in the charger. It rings a few seconds later. I barely have time to pop my Diet Coke before it's about to shift to the answering machine.

“Hello?” I say, taking a sip.

“I just heard,” Jim says. “First, can I say a big congratulations that your daughter told you about the whole going-to-second-base thing? Wow. I'm not sure if I should be grossed out, but it seems like a wow to me.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking another sip.

“Second, Ben only has his driver's permit and he can't legally drive at night with a passenger, but I was thinking that, if it's just a few blocks, maybe he could drive them into the hotel parking lot and do the whole valet thing, make a big deal out of it. That would totally mess with Colonoscopy's head.”

“Colonoscopy?” I say, nearly choking on my drink.

“Pi called.”

“I figured. Listen, I don't know about driving the car. That seems a little dangerous, not to mention illegal.”

“Try to stop being a lawyer for just fifteen minutes. I'd be in a car right behind them,” Jim says. “But if you agree to this, don't tell Karen.”

“Right. That's going to happen,” I say, starting to laugh.

“Narc,” Jim says. “Hey, before I let you go, it's time for you to rotate your tires. I'll be over sometime on Saturday.”

“Okay. See you Saturday.”

“See ya, narc,” he says and hangs up.

I have just enough time to use the bathroom before the phone rings again.

“Hey, I just heard.”

“Hi, Cindy. What did you hear?”

“The whole thing, plus how you might need a great car for Ben to drive Megan in. Bob's brother just bought a classic Mustang with a perfect paint job; I think it's a 'sixty-six, blue, but I can't really remember. Anyway, I've already talked to Bob about it and he talked to his brother and they are totally up for a road trip to LA if you want that car for Megan to arrive at the dance in. I talked to Jim already and he said that Ben is totally capable of driving it, and it would only be for a few blocks anyway, so, should I tell Bob he can go?”

“I don't think Karen is going to agree to let Ben drive. I just got off the phone with her and we agreed that I'd be driving,” I say.

“Really? How long ago did you talk to her, because things may have changed.”

“Well, true. Let me call her and then I'll call you back.”

“Okay. Bye.”

The phone rings almost immediately and I can hear the
warning: low battery
sound chirping.

“What the hell?” Diane says. “I thought you were going to call me right back? I've heard from Pi and Cindy and Jim already! Way to leave me hanging, McCormick.”

“I'm sorry! I've barely been off the phone since we talked. Let me fill you in—”

“Oh, I'm all caught up, but you could have called. The guys here are all atwitter over the whole Colonoscopy debacle. They're taking bets on how soon he flees the scene. So, what's Megan wearing? All I got out of Jim was that it was a dress. Idiot.”

“It's lavender,” I say, “with white trim, white shoes.”

“Speaking of lavender, how's our buddy Lavender Barrette? Is he still hard on the scent?”

“Classy,” I say.

“McCormick, you're too old to have to worry about being classy. You either got it or you don't, and you've got it, so live a little.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying marry the poor bastard. He deserves it.”

“Diane, be serious.”

“I am being serious. What the hell are you waiting for?” When there's only silence on my end, she says, “Sweetie, really, what are you waiting for? Isn't he the guy you always dreamed of? Isn't he the guy who makes every wish come true?”

I sigh and say, “Let me call you back on my cell. This thing's about to go dead.”

“Roger that.”

I call her back on my cell a few seconds later. “The thing is,” I say, without any preamble, “is that he's not the guy I always dreamed of. The guy I always dreamed of was never this involved in my life. He was always on the outside, or I was on the outside, but there was always this space between us. I never dreamed of a guy who would be close, you know?”

“Okay, McCormick, scratch that. Your dreams suck. Matt's the guy you should have been dreaming of, right? We can agree on that, right?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, staring out the kitchen window to the massive sycamore trees. “He's dreamy; that's for sure.”

“Then what are you waiting for? This is the first guy who's gone after you like he means it. Do him a big, fat favor and let him catch you. How hard can it be?”

“I guess not that hard,” I say, starting to laugh.

“Well, hell, no, it's not hard at all. Now, go fall at his feet and let him do the rest. Call me back with the full scoop! I mean it! I don't want to hear it from Cindy; she always misses essential details.”