Page 31 of Mean Moms
Jenna Worthy
Wow, Gemma and Julie! We owe you one. The homeless problem in New York just keeps getting worse. Here’s a story from the New York Post about the mayor’s failure to control it.
Caroline Press
And don’t even get me started about the migrant issue…
Gabby Mahler
Guys, we live in New York City… we have “right to shelter” laws here. These are people who are suffering!
Caroline Press
Like you’re suffering in your Park Avenue castle.?
Gabby Mahler
I actually take offense to that, Caroline. We’re all very privileged here. The least we can do is help those in need.
Dre Finlay
Everyone! Enough sniping! I just wanted to celebrate Gemma and Julie and the whole of Atherton’s safety patrol.
Katrina Lowry
Gemma/Julie well done! Was it scary??
Julie Klein
It was a little daunting! We spotted him and called 911. I was thinking of our kids the whole time, and how this was all for them. That helped!
Gemma Corder
The police came quickly. He resisted a little, and that part was intense.
Julie Klein
Then they led him to their car. The whole time he was shouting: “She paid me! She paid me!”
Dre Finlay
You two are heroes.?
Gabby Mahler
Yes, bravely calling the cops on a man with mental illness.
Dre Finlay
Don’t forget: today is the last day to sign up for the Atherton spring break camp in March! See you all at Friendsgiving. I, for one, am looking forward to celebrating the bonds of Atherton’s chosen community.
Chapter 9The Bugs Are Back!
Belle Redness was sitting in her kitchen, sipping herbal tea, staring out at One World Trade, taunting her with its message of resilience and strength. Fuck resilience. Belle’s cat Duke jumped up onto the countertop, rubbing his nose onto Belle’s, sensing she was upset. Belle gave him a kiss. Then she slowly lowered her face down, banging her head on the cold Calacatta marble. Duke, startled, leaped down to the floor. Then Belle hit her head again, harder. The pain felt good. It felt right. She did it once more, moaning a little. “Aaaarrrrgggghhh.” Belle was losing her shit.
“Mom, what the heck are you doing?” said Hildy, who’d walked in without Belle realizing she was there. It was 11:00 a.m. on Tuesday and Hildy was home—she’d been diagnosed with strep throat the day before and had to follow Atherton’s rule of twenty-four hours on antibiotics before returning. It felt like the Redness clan was suffering plague after plague after plague. Belle raised her head swiftly and sat up straight, hoping Hildy hadn’t seen the extent of her feeling-bad-for-herself self-harm.
“Nothing!” said Belle, fake chipper. “Just resting for a moment.I’m exhausted. How are you holding up?” Hildy was in plaid pajama pants and a blue hoodie, her twelve-year-old face half-hidden. She still hadn’t gone through full puberty—she didn’t have her period yet, though most of her friends already did. But her body was changing, and Belle knew how self-conscious that made her.
