Page 11 of Mean Moms
“You must come to the spa soon, I’ll comp you a free sound bath.”
“Please, I’ll pay,” said Sofia, lying. Morgan went off to greet other partygoers. Sofia noticed Morgan’s daughter, Gertrude, sitting alone on a small sofa, scrolling on her phone. She looked like a heavier,younger version of Morgan, with that same blond hair and dimple. But instead of cheerful like her mom she seemed miserable, her mouth set in a grim scowl.
Sofia, on motherly impulse, approached Gertrude, laying a hand on her shoulder, startling her away from whatever messages a twelve-year-old would send.
“Hi, sweetie, you okay? I’m your mom’s new friend, Sofia,” said Sofia. Gertrude stared at her warily.
“I’m fine,” she said flatly, turning back to her phone. What an unpleasant child, Sofia thought, then quickly felt bad for her ungenerous take. She was probably just bored, or annoyed to be dragged to this adult event.
Sofia then made her way to the bar, which was set up next to the front desk. She picked up a champagne and perused the product display, sniffing a particularly pretty-looking rose oil. She looked to her right and saw Ava Leo, alone, standing by a shelf full of creams and crystals. Ava didn’t notice her. Sofia watched as Ava stealthily picked up a face serum and slipped it into her black Chanel handbag. Sofia was confused. Were the products free? They didn’t appear to be. But why on earth would Ava steal a serum? Sofia, not wanting to be seen, speed-walked to the other side of the room, hiding behind a trio of influencers, decked out in full glam and designer crop tops.
“Sofia!” She felt a hand on her neck and jumped, but it was only Frost, in an amazing vintage slip dress that looked straight out of a 1998Vogue. She had a bandage across her face from the scooter accident, and her left arm was in a sling. Somehow, she still looked glamorous. “How’s my favorite new mom-friend?” Frost purred. Sofia liked Frost the best of all of them. She’d considered telling Frost the truth about her marriage but couldn’t yet bring herself todo it. First, it was just too humiliating. What was Frost going to say to that? “Sorry you’re broke”? Second, part of the deal with JP was that Sofia wasn’t supposed to tell anyone anything. He’d pay for the apartment and their groceries and allow her to have just enough to keep up the charade if she kept her mouth shut.
After Sofia’s infidelity had come to light, JP’s family had banded together to protect him. Sofia, feeling intimidated and out of her depth, agreed to a have one mediator instead of separate divorce lawyers. She’d figured that because she was the one who cheated, she’d just have to swallow it. She knew she could have asked for more, fought a little, but she didn’t know how to. Sofia’s parents were both dead—her dad when she was a teen and her mom just a few years ago, from cervical cancer that had gone undetected. Sofia was an only child. She had no one.
“How’s your arm, Frost?” said Sofia. Frost smiled distractedly.
“It still hurts, but it’s only a sprain, not broken. And now Tim is on a mission to find the guy who hit me, so we’ve hired someone to look into it,” said Frost. “Ask Morgan to the rescue again! She researched for me and found a great private detective.” Morgan, deep in conversation with Clara Cain, looked over at them as if she’d heard what they were saying.
Sofia saw Ava out of the corner of her eye, taking selfies against the white script Thyme & Time logo on the wall, likely posting to her million Instagram followers. Should she tell Frost she’d seen her pocketing a serum?
“Hey, ladies, thanks for coming.” It was Art, Morgan’s dashing husband, in a deep blue suit and his signature white Welly sneakers.
He put a hand on Frost’s shoulder, and Frost blushed and batted her eyes charmingly.
“It’s so great of you to come and support Morgan,” said Art.Sofia was struck with the feeling that she’d seen him somewhere before. Somewhere outside of the context of Morgan.
“HowisMorgan?” asked Frost. “This is such a lovely event. I hope she’s soaking it all in.” They all turned to look at Morgan, still chatting with Clara.
“She’s great,” said Art with a doting smile. “You know Morgan: the best at everything she tries.” Sofia noticed that Frost couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Though perhaps she needs saving from Clara.”
He walked toward his wife, and the two women were joined by Gabby Mahler, stylish in a black jumpsuit, her short hair spiked up dramatically. Ava approached, linking arms with Gabby, her Chanel bag full of contraband dangling from her other limb.
“Who’s going to take a sound bath with me?!” said Gabby mischievously. “Let’s get naked, sit in a padded room, and listen to ‘My Heart Will Go On’ on repeat,” she said. Ava giggled.
Sofia saw that Morgan had moved on to another mom, Becky Oranga, mother of a third grader named Jesse. Sofia had chatted with her at a few of the Atherton meet and greets. Becky had the startled look of a surprised deer and a habit of referring to her son as “my Jesse,” as if all of them also didn’t have children that were theirs.
“Ava, I can’t wait for the party next weekend. Are you totally ready?” said Frost.
“Everything but my outfit, which unfortunately is the most important part,” said Ava.
Sofia had been invited to Ava’s Bouquet of Newly Sharpened Pencils event along with the rest of Atherton. She’d heard that everyone put lots of effort—and money—into their costumes, and that most coordinated with their husbands. Sofia was fearing an evening of being the odd woman out, particularly because she couldn’t afford to buy anything new.
“Guys, let’s do a selfie,” said Ava, holding her phone up and out. The women gathered around her, making sure to get their most flattering angles.
“Has anyone seen Belle?” asked Frost. They all shook their heads.
“Maybe she’s boycotting because Morgan opened her business first,” said Gabby, doing air quotes at “business.”
“You’re such a bitch, Gabby,” said Ava good-naturedly.
A glass clanked loudly, and the room, now at capacity with beauty editors, wellness influencers, and Morgan’s mom-friends, quieted. Art and Morgan stood together near the entrance, Gertrude hovering awkwardly nearby. Art was holding a glass of wine and a microphone. Sofia noticed all the women ogling him—good-looking, wealthy, kind to his wife. Even Sofia was taken in, thinking about how unimpressive JP was compared to this model husband. Morgan’s face was pinched into a smile. She was holding a glass of sparkling water so tightly that Sofia feared it might burst.
“We are so happy you’ve all made it to the opening of Thyme & Time,” said Art to applause.
“Morgan is aforce,” he said to the sound of the audience’s muffled, knowing chuckles. “She is always on the go, making things happen, with good cheer and positive energy. You know the drill—ask Morgan! And she runs our life flawlessly. She’s also a very fast runner. She finished the New York City marathon in three hours and thirty minutes!—and is the best mom and wife.” Sofia felt Frost stiffen next to her.
“So, when she told me she wanted a business to call her own, I knew that whatever it was, Welly and I would gladly step in withour support. Morgan has always been passionate about spas and sound baths—”
