Page 47 of A Better World

“Daniella decorates a lot of the houses around here,” Rachel said, pointing out the gaudy gold paint on the far wall that matched the furniture’s gold trim. “It was her side hustle before ActHollow. Everybody’s sitting area looks like a cathouse.”

“But a classy, put-yourself-through-college cathouse,” Linda joked. “Not the sex-slave-refugee kind.”

Rachel eyed her with amusement, started left behind the stairs. They passed a Hollow altar carved in a semicircle, a discreet foot and a half long, foot wide, and foot deep. The strung cranberries had dried without being replaced. She hadn’t seen that yet. Most places kept them very fresh.

They landed in the kitchen, where they sat at a small nook table. Wordless, Rachel got plates while Linda pulled sandwiches from the Sirin’s takeout bag. Though Linda’s visit with Daniella had been friendly, she’d never forgotten her place as subordinate. In Rachel’s house, there wasn’t so much ceremony.

On the table was a large stack of paper files, which Linda knew were meant for her to take. She was eager to read them. The nearbycounter was kid-messy; drawings and report cards were magnetized by alphabet letters to the refrigerator door. She spotted a tangled Slinky, stretched long as if undergoing corrective surgery, and several pairs of small shoes, all seeming to have been tried on and cast off during the morning rush.

“How old?”

“Three and five,” Rachel said.

“The magical thinking years. Mine believed in fairies. They were always looking for them under plants in Kings’ Park.”

“Some people never outgrow that phase,” Rachel said. “Kai, for instance. He wants to leave PV.”

“Why?”

Rachel raised an eyebrow, lips sealing tight. She had great facial expressions. They were both comic and illustrative. “He feels trapped.”

“Huh,” Linda said. “He might change his mind once he tries living out there. Does he have a plan?”

“Man’s never held a greenback. Never done a load of wash. Never used a key, driven a car, or cooked. He’s the son of a board member, grandson of a board member. When I came here, they were in the process of kicking him out. He didn’t like any of the jobs—kept screwing up on purpose. Didn’t like PV or Hollow. Was in a rebel phase. But then we fell in love. My hazing stopped because I was with him. Everybody was happy, until we stopped being happy. I moved out of the bedroom this weekend.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Or, okay. Thank you.” Coolly, Rachel appraised her sandwich, gave it a withering look, like it had disappointed her, and sipped her mead instead. “He kept the master bedroom. I’m stuck with the guest room. What kind of man won’t move out? I’ll bet he’s never slept on a couch in his life.”

“It’s a myth. None of them do,” Linda said. “They’ve all got crap backs.”

Rachel liked this answer. She grinned, those eyeteeth protruding. “Mead?”

“Nope. I’m never drinking again.”

“Sorry about leaving you with Gal, by the way. I didn’t think you’d wind up hanging out with her. I thought you’d just go home. You weren’t looking for dirt, were you? My advice is stay away from that woman.”

“Dirt? No. Something was obviously going down between all of you and Gal, but I have no interest in knowing it. I’m just trying to get by around here, Rachel, and drama’s not my favorite subject. I was planning on going home but I was too drunk to use my car, and it seemed wrong to just leave her there, so I called us both a ride.”

“Shit,” Rachel said. “I forgot. You have a B class. We’ll have to fix that.” She finished her mead and poured more.

“Do you have any news of Gal or what happened?”

“It’s early so things are up in the air. I just heard this morning that the ex-wife, Trish, is going to take the kids—Katie and what’s his name? Sebastian. They’ll go to Palo Alto. Trish is a real piece of shit. Lowest of the low. But not even she expected Gal to do anything like this. It’s harder to know what to do with Gal. We might let the court system know what happened. But we might just expel her like we’d originally planned. Whatever we do, we’ll do it quietly. Everybody around here’s pretty worked up. I’ll bet the hospital was full.”

“It was,” Linda said.

“Figures. They can’t even let a tragedy happen without wrapping it around themselves, making it their own…”

“Daniella said it’s empathy.”

“I didn’t see them knocking on Gal’s door or offering legal advice before this happened. If it’s empathy, it’s the convenient kind.”

“A lady in the ER was convinced her kid had cancer. She wouldn’t believe me when I told her the kid was healthy. I thought it had something to do with Gal’s kids. Do you happen to know their diagnoses? She said it was a cancer called idiopathic leukemia and they both have it.”

“I stay out of Gal Parker’s business. But these residents”—Rachel shook her head in slow disgust—“they glory in this crap. Listen, if you’re having a hard time, and then I decide I care so much about your hard time that now I’m having a hard time—that’s not a usefulreaction. Daniella’s much more forgiving of these dilettantes than I’ve ever been.”

Ever consider joining your husband and leaving PV?Linda thought.It doesn’t sound like you like this place so much, either.But this was too personal an observation to make. “There was a fight at school drop-off this morning. Two parents. A mom hit a dad—this awkward claw punch. The dad was all—that’s not allowed except at a festival!Then everybody started hissing and they both backed down.”

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