The Wives

‘No, not you.’ Emily raised her voice and said into the phone, ‘I prefer “cooch.” As in, next time you want to get drunk, you should consider sticking vodka-soaked tampons up your cooch. That’s what all the cool moms are doing.’

This time the women, dumbfounded, exchanged a look.

‘What? Vodka-soaked tampons? What are you talking about?’ Miles said.

‘Nothing, never mind.’ Emily took a gulp of her now-cold latte. ‘So where are you now?’

‘Just got back from dinner to the hotel, which is insane. I can’t wait for you to see it.’

‘Yeah, me neither. The pictures look incredible.’

‘I’ll be back in L.A. a week from this Friday. You’ll be home by then, right?’

‘Of course. Unemployed, washed up, and humiliated. But home.’

‘Oh, come on, Em. Who even cares that Kim Kelly fired you? She’s a shit actress, anyway.’

‘She’s won three Oscars and two Globes. She was one of my best clients.’

‘She’s a hack. And getting older and fatter by the second. You, my love, are the queen of the crazies. I know it, and so does everyone else.’

Clearly he was trying to make her feel better, but it only made Emily desperate to hang up. ‘Miles? I’ve got to run. Miriam’s expecting me home soon.’

‘Okay. I miss you, honey. Remember, Kim Kelly is a bad car accident, and you’re lucky you escaped that one. I’ll see you in a couple more weeks, and I’ll take you out to cheer you up. Just remember – you’re a rock star.’

‘A rock star. Right. Check.’ She couldn’t remember feeling this down on herself, possibly ever, but then again, she’d never been fired by three big clients right in a row. She managed an ‘I love you’ before hanging up.

Then, as Emily went to close her laptop, another email came in. Camilla’s subject line said: Please read immediately.

The official firing email. Well, that had taken all of three minutes. ‘Fuck you,’ she said as she jabbed the ‘delete’ button without even opening it. Two women who had taken the table of the other moms – and who were also clad in head-to-toe Lululemon – turned to stare at her, mouths agape.

‘Mind your own fucking business,’ Emily snapped. ‘And just so you know, getting drunk through your cooch instead of your mouth will result in an identical DUI, which will inevitably force you to sell your house and change your name and move straight across the country, since no mommy around here will ever speak to you again. Even though they all do it too. Just a friendly FYI.’

Emily grabbed her computer bag and slung it over her shoulder. ‘Have a great day!’ she sang as she left, flashing just the quickest middle finger as she walked past their table. Making new friends was overrated. Especially in the suburbs.

8 (#ulink_dcdddf46-c515-5f6e-a74a-9abb335fb547)

Happy to Sip and Not to See (#ulink_dcdddf46-c515-5f6e-a74a-9abb335fb547)

MIRIAM

Miriam tiptoed back into her still-dark bedroom and slipped under the covers. It felt so supremely indulgent to crawl back in bed. Like when she and Paul had first met and would sleep until eleven on the weekends, venture out in their sweats to pick up coffee and bagels, and then head straight back to bed with their favorite sections of The New York Times. Now Wednesdays at eight-fifteen were the new weekend: Paul worked from his home office that day and made it a point not to start until ten, since most other days he was up and out early. She snuggled up with him, pressed her body against his, and inhaled. Something about his neck in the morning always smelled delicious.

He smiled without opening his eyes and murmured, ‘What did you do with our children?’

‘All three off to school. It’s just you and me. And Emily, but she doesn’t count. What do you think about that?’ She reached her hand under the covers and into the waistband of his boxers, but he turned away.

‘I’ve got to get up. An earlier-than-usual call today.’ He gave her a dry peck on the lips, headed into the bathroom, and closed the door behind him. A moment later, she heard the shower turn on.

Miriam kicked off the covers and sighed. She’d had the idea to strip off her stretched-out leggings and yogurt-splattered T-shirt before waking him and had even slipped into what qualified as lingerie after three kids and seven years of marriage: a sleeveless cotton nightshirt and no underwear. What more could the man want?

She followed him into the bathroom and appraised him as he stepped out onto the bath mat after his usual quick rinse. There was no denying it, he was still handsome: broad-shouldered and small-waisted, annoyingly so. His close-cropped hair was starting to turn salt and pepper, but that just made him look more distinguished. And he still had the body of a runner – lean, ropy, and tight – despite the fact that Miriam ran more than he did these days, which really wasn’t saying much.

‘What are you up to today?’ Paul asked as he tied his towel around his waist and swiped on some deodorant.

Paul had never shown anything but complete support for her decisions. Whether she was working eighty hours a week at Skadden or enjoying her new, more leisurely life, he was completely behind her. He didn’t mean it now in a snarky way, he was just expressing interest in her day. Still, she felt a little stupid telling him that she was planning to attend a sip ’n’ see at eleven.

‘That sounds nice,’ he said through a mouthful of toothpaste.

‘I mean, who does that? A formal baby viewing at eleven a.m. on a Wednesday? Does no one have anywhere else to be?’

He spat and rinsed. ‘Go and enjoy yourself. You deserve it.’ Another unsexy peck, this one on the cheek. ‘I’ve got to jump on this call. I’ll see you at the school at three. And have fun at the party!’

‘Thanks,’ she muttered, but he was already gone.

A scan through her own closet revealed a lot of leftover work clothes and plenty of workout clothes, but not much else. She pulled out a pair of black pants, boot-cut and professional, with a white silk blouse, kitten-heeled patent-leather shoes, and her late grandmother’s gold-leaf necklace. Miriam glanced in the mirror and nodded with approval. Totally inoffensive. Blending in. Perfect for anything from a conference room to a Hadassah luncheon. But when she walked into the kitchen, Emily turned around from her perch in front of the cabinet-mounted TV, coffee mug in hand, and said, ‘Really? You look like a cater-waiter.’

‘Thanks. You always know just what to say.’ Miriam stuck a mug in the coffee machine and hit ‘start.’ ‘Where are you going?’ she asked Emily, taking in her leather leggings, chunky cardigan tied off at the waist, and four-inch booties.

‘With you,’ Emily said.

‘Like hell you are.’ Miriam splashed some leftover milk from one of the kid’s cereal bowls into her coffee and took a sip. ‘Seriously, where?’

‘I can’t sit here anymore. Please.’

‘I’m hardly tying you to the bed each day. You’re free to go any time. I’ve even offered you a ride to the airport.’

‘I know, I know. Miles isn’t home to visit for another couple weeks, and you know I hate being alone. Plus, I can’t face everyone after this whole thing with Kim Kelly. Don’t make me leave. I even kind of sort of like it here. In a weird, fucked-up way.’

‘I’m not making you leave! But there is no way you’re coming with me to a sip ’n’ see. You weren’t invited. You don’t even like babies.’

‘I’m sure there’ll plenty of wine, so I’ll be fine. Please? I won’t embarrass you.’ Emily motioned again to Miriam’s outfit with a look of pure disgust. ‘Although I hardly think I’ll be the problem.’

Miriam couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You are such a bitch. Fine. I’ll say you’re my pathetic, childless, out-of-town friend who’s going through a really hard time right now. But promise me you’ll keep your mouth closed. It’d be nice to meet some new people without you scaring them all off.’

Emily headed to the mudroom. ‘Come on, we don’t want to be late.’

The drive to the sip ’n’ see took them through Greenwich’s downtown, which upon first glance resembled a charming version of a pedestrian-friendly, all-American Any Town – until you noticed the storefronts: Tiffany, rag & bone, Baccarat, Alice and Olivia, Joie, Vince, Theory. One of the only mom-and-pop stores sold and serviced fur coats. Range Rovers and Audi SUVs occupied at least fifty percent of the metered spots.

But soon they were past it and weaving through the more rural part of town, on the outskirts closer to Bedford, to a pretty street that snaked through the woods. Miriam turned onto a road with a very small and subtle ‘private’ sign and followed it up and over a steep hill, then down into a more densely wooded area until the woods cleared to reveal a gorgeous, sprawling estate. A handsome valet who looked more like he belonged on a surfboard than in a uniform materialized at the driver’s side and took Miriam’s keys.

‘Now we’re talking!’ Emily said, staring. ‘Who did you say this was for?’

‘One of the moms in Maisie’s class. Just had her fourth baby. I don’t really know her, but my co-room mom, Ashley, is organizing it, and she invited me.’

‘I’m no expert, but I thought you didn’t get a shower after baby number one.’

‘It’s not a shower. It’s a viewing. Plus, this is Greenwich, where we embrace all excuses to drink during the day.’