Page 16 of Mean Moms
On that note, I’d advise you to do a thorough head check of the Finlay kids, the Klein clan, and the Corders—none of those dirty children appear to ever wash their hair; I don’t know what their moms are thinking (probably… not much; they all suffer from the same empty-brain syndrome). Oh wait, also Becky Oranga’s kid, “my Jesse.” Just so she freaks out a little.
Cheers,
Belle Redness
Belle’s breath came in sharp, painful bursts. She handed the phone back to Sofia, who put her hand on Belle’s shoulder to steady her.
“I think… I think,” said Belle. She couldn’t get the words out. Everyone in the entire room seemed to be looking at her, shooting daggers out of their eyes.
“You are all right,” said Sofia soothingly. Belle swore she could hear the words “lice” and “asshole” in the air, coming from all directions, everyone talking about her at once.
Ava and David, dressed as Louis Armstrong in a blue tux, holding a trumpet, took this moment to approach the women. They were holding hands, their expressions equal parts concerned and irritated.
“Hey, ladies,” said Ava, stalling. Belle braced herself.
“Soooo, I suppose you know about the email we all just received from the school,” said Ava, looking around the room, her eyes never settling on Belle. Coward.
“Well, everyone’s talking about it, and some of the moms are, you know, mad about being named in it,” said Ava. “It’s truly not about the lice, but…” She paused.
“This is very rude! Belle has done nothing!Shedidn’t send that email to the whole school,” said Sofia, coming to Belle’s defense, for which she was grateful.
But Belle knew where this was going, so she saved Ava—whom she was starting to hate with a visceral heat—the trouble.
“I’m leaving, don’t worry,” said Belle. If she could somehow preserve her relationship with Ava, for Pippins Cottage Home’s sake, she’d do it. She needed to find Jeff and get the hell out of there. She could strategize with her friends later about how to recover. For now, she had to lie low.
Before anyone could say anything else, and without saying goodbye, Belle took off, sending Jeff a quick text—Where are you? I’m leaving now, there’s an emergency, kids fine, meet me at home—and then running down to the second floor, scanning faces for Frost or Morgan or Jeff, the costumes so absurd it felt like she might be in a bad dream. She passed Art, or, rather, Ichabod Crane, wearing a green waistcoat and a hat that looked out of the 1800s. “Tell Morgan to call me,” she said to him, not stopping. Partygoers were giving her the side-eye, the woman who’d committed the double sin of giving their children liceandshit-talking other Atherton moms.That was a private email, she wanted to shout at them.
The second floor was dark and smoky and crowded, and Belle could barely see in front of her. She felt along the wall, attempting to reach the stairs, focused only on getting to the entrance. She’d almost made it when she felt a strong hand on her wrist, once again pulling her somewhere she didn’t want to go—the same room she’d been in with Clara.
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the blackness. She could see the skeletons above and the witches on the walls, but not who she was with.
“Hello?” said Belle softly. She felt very vulnerable and upset, and her too-small Jason Wu dress was beginning to suffocate her.
“Mrs. Redness,” said a deep voice, which she instantly recognized to be Dr. Broker’s. He took her hand again and led her to the corner of the space, hidden from view, even if the door were to open.
All of Belle’s anxiety instantly melted into electricity. She didn’t know why Dr. Broker had chosen to bring her here, but being in a dim room with him lit something up inside her.
“Um, Dr. Broker, I’m glad I ran into you,” Belle stammered, trying to sound normal. “There are two things I’d like to discuss.First, I heard something about nude photos that I don’t think is true. Second, it seems that an email I sent only to Nurse Weiss was blasted to the entire school, and I need to know how that happened. A head has to roll, Dr. Broker. Not yours…” She was rambling now, unable to stop.
Before she could process what was happening, Dr. Broker had pushed her against the wall, pressing into her with what she could feel, even through his jeans, to be a large erection. He ran his hand over her Bulgari ruby necklace, and then his lips were briefly on hers, tasting of mint and rum. Nothing like this had ever happened to Belle Redness, a daddy’s girl and rule follower. For a second, she felt like she might give in. He was so attractive, and his body was so… warm. But as Dr. Broker began to lift up Belle’s Jason Wu dress, an image came into Belle’s mind, the same memory she’d had earlier that evening, one of her younger self, sitting across from Jeff at a bar, laughing at something he’d said, their fingers entwined. She quickly ducked out of Dr. Broker’s embrace.
“You know, I don’t have lice anymore,” she said awkwardly, wiping her mouth, wishing she hadn’t let him kiss her in the first place. In the low light, she could see he was frowning.
Belle took the opportunity to dart out of the room, the wax witch looking on with a sneaky smile. Then she took an Uber home alone, reliving it all in her head.
A note from the host, Ava Leo
Hi, all,
Thank you so much for attending A Bouquet of Newly Sharpened Pencils! David and I were so thrilled you could make it—we had a wonderful time celebrating the start of the Atherton school year,and we hope you did, too. Below, a quick list of what was left in our apartment. Please claim them by early next week; after that, items without owners will be donated to the Atherton Parents Against Persons Experiencing Homelessness committee for neighborhood distribution. See everyone at drop-off on Monday!
All our best,
The Leo-Chungs
A pair of plastic antlers
Three vapes, wasabi flavor
