Page 132 of Pick-Up
“Is this why you pursued me?” I ask Ethan, suddenly stricken. “Like, as revenge? To hurt her?”
“I didn’t think I just pursued you. It seemed kind of mutual?”
“Ethan!”
“No. Of course not,” he says gently. “I told you. I don’t care what she does. I’ve never wanted revenge. Especially now. This is extreme. And worrisome.” He brings a hand to his temple. Rubs like he’s trying to reset his brain.
“Oh, sure!” says Kaitlin, who has clearly overheard. “But it’s not extreme that she went after you?”
“Actually,” I say, turning to her, “I didn’t go after anyone! We didn’t even know each other before, really. When you screwed up my life, you kind of forced us together. God! I should have known when your daughterhappenedto get that one after-school spot.”
Ethan runs his hands through his hair. It is safe to say he is stressed out. “Obviously, I didn’t know,” he says to me. “I hope you realize that.”
I look at Kaitlin, all red-faced and deranged. Red Vest, Green Vest and Lisa, staring wide-eyed. Celeste, her hands like one-sided ineffectual earmuffs on one of each of my kids’ ears. The line of parents behind us, gaping as they wait to get in. Redhead Mom near the front, unblinking. I look at Ethan, a perfect barn jacket, over a perfect gray hoodie, over a perfect white T-shirt. The color drained from his face, creased with worry. And I cannot believe this is my life.
I’m not sure for whom I feel worst.
I turn back to the table. “You need to let my kids in now,” I say. Red Vest and Green Vest stare down at the blacktop. They want no part in this, and I can’t blame them.
“No,” says Kaitlin.
“Let them in,” I say.
“You’re missing a form,” she says. “And also you suck.”
“Let them in, Kaitlin!” says Ethan. “This is not okay.”
“No.”
We are at an impasse. Except we are not.
“You. Will. Let. Them. In!” booms the school administrator, stepping up to the side of the table. My hero in a festive blazer and leafy necklace. “I don’t know what’s happening, but we will get to the bottom of it all. This is most certainly an abuse of your power.”
Kaitlin opens her mouth to protest.
“Take a break!” the administrator says firmly before anyone can speak. She looks to Celeste. “Please walk the children in. They don’t need tickets. It’s on me.”
Celeste hurries Nettie and Bart inside, hopefully not as traumatized as I feel.
The school administrator’s eyes rest on me. The eyes I have so often felt were filled with judgment. “I will personally ensure that you are no longer left off school mailers and newsletters.”
“Thank you,” I say with a shuddered exhale. “I appreciate that.”
In that moment, I realize I have been so busy complaining about being “Mom” at drop-off and pick-up, about having no name, that Inever noticed that she didn’t have one either. Maybe this woman also just wants to be seen.
Kaitlin throws her hat down, hair wiry with static, and storms off toward the bathrooms. Red Vest, Green Vest and Lisa do not follow. She is radioactive.
I take a few steps back now that my kids are in. Take a moment to collect myself. Ethan stands against the fence, shell-shocked. One hand white-knuckles the wire grid.
We are silent for a full minute. The ticket line begins to move again. Other parents file in, buy wristbands and join the throngs. Like nothing happened. Almost. Redhead Mom steals a look at me, then pretends she didn’t. Hurries her kids inside. Our silent kinship is over. I have becomethatmom. I am flashing back to when the Golden Globes video of Cliff first surfaced, the way the others looked at me. I realize that at least now, faced with public humiliation again, I don’t care nearly as much. Growth.
“Did you know—?” I ask Ethan, but I’m not even sure what to say. “Kaitlin was this troubled?”
He shakes his head.
“She wasn’t always like this,” he says.
I nod. Although I kind of think she was, to a degree. It’s why I never got close to her when we were kids. I could feel the way she moved around the world with a scarcity mentality, like she always felt she’d somehow been shortchanged, even then. She seemed to experience other people’s wins as her losses. Ethan may not have seen it. But sometimes people don’t notice all the things. If they don’t want to.
