Another Piece of My Heart (10 page)

“Wow!” Ethan laughs. “You sound like you were really moved.”

“I was. I thought it was mind-blowing. I met the artist and his assistants, and they were telling me all about Burning Man.”

Ethan starts to laugh. “God. Burning Man. Those were the days.”

“You’ve been?” Emily and Sophia say it in unison, both shocked.

“Of course! You don’t get to grow up in California and
not
go to Burning Man. I went a couple of years, with a group of guys from school. It was a blast. It’s an incredible place.”

“Now I feel stupid,” Andi says. “I know I’ve lived here for years, and I’m always hearing people talk about Burning Man, but I still don’t completely understand what it is. I always think of its being like Woodstock, is that right?”

“Kind of.” Ethan nods. “If Woodstock had been about art rather than music, and if it had been held in temperatures of well over a hundred degrees in the Nevada desert.”

Andi shivers. “Sounds horrific,” then corrects herself as she catches a familiar withering look from Emily. “I mean, it sounds hot.”

“It is, but it’s cool, forgive the pun. It’s like landing on another planet. It’s all about community, and self-reliance, and this incredible art, installations that are constantly moving and changing, everywhere you look.”

Emily’s eyes are wide. “The guys last night said it was the largest outdoor art gallery in the world. Forty thousand people. And they have villages, and streets.”

Ethan nods. “I remember that. It’s amazing that this huge town is erected in the desert, from nothing, for one week.” He shakes his head, eyes misted over with the memory of years gone by. “I had a blast at Burning Man.”

“So.” Emily is wriggling with excitement. “Can I go?”

“What?” Ethan’s reverie is interrupted. “When?”

“Next week. It’s next week. They invited me to join them. Oh, Dad, it sounds life-changing, I really, really badly want to go.”

“Who are these people?” Ethan asks.

“Dad”—Emily looks at him—“I’m not a child anymore. I’m almost eighteen. Soon I won’t even have to ask you.”

“You will if you expect me to pay for it,” snorts Ethan.

“True, but you had an incredible time, right? How old were you?”

“Older than you. Nineteen? Twenty?”

“So only just older than me. And I bet there were tons of younger people there. I just … I feel in my bones there’s something about Burning Man that’s going to change me. I know we’re going to see your client about publishing, but maybe art is my calling. Maybe I should be thinking about art school? You know how creative I’ve always been and how I love photography. I get it from you, right?”

Flattery will get you everywhere,
thinks Andi, noting the discomfort on Ethan’s face.
He wants to say no but with no good reason.

“I think she should go,” Andi says simply, seeing Emily’s eyes widen with delight. Ethan looks at her.

“It sounds like it
could
be life-changing,” continues Andi, “and what’s the downside? It’s one week, right? Next week?”

Emily gulps and nods, looking to her father.

“If I were to say yes, and I haven’t said yes,” Ethan warns, “but if I were to, there would have to be some rules.”

“Of course, that’s fine. I totally understand.”

“I would have to meet the people you are going with, and I have to approve of them.”

“No way, Dad. I get that you have to meet them, but you can’t base this decision on liking them or not. That’s not fair.”

Ethan looks at Andi, who shrugs. “I kind of agree with her.”

“But I have to meet them. And I have to have contact numbers and addresses for all of them.”

“Does that mean yes? Does that mean I can go?” Emily is almost squealing as Ethan draws out the pause before finally exhaling with a long sigh.

“Yes.”

“I love you, Dad!” She flings her arms around him and squeezes him hard as he laughs, then turns to Andi and, bubbling with uncontained excitement, throws her arms around Andi and squeezes her, too. Sophia shakes her head, smiling, and buries herself in her book.

“Oh, God.” Emily runs out of the room, thumping up the stairs. “What am I going to pack?”

“Pack later,” Ethan shouts up after her. “We have to leave here in ten minutes.”

*   *   *

“That was a nice thing you did,” Andi says as Ethan gets his coat. “I know you didn’t want to say yes, but it was good. It shows her you trust her.”

“I know,” he says. “And I have to admit, it feels amazing to see her so happy. I just hope she can be trusted. I hope she can’t get into too much trouble. I hope she makes responsible choices.” He stops and looks at Andi with panic suddenly in his eyes. “Oh, God. What the hell was I thinking?”

“It’ll be okay,” Andi says. “It may be life-changing after all. You’d better go.”

“I’ll see you later.” He leans in for a quick kiss. “You’re out tonight, right?”

“Yup.” Andi does a quick roll of her hips. “Salsa dancing with the girls.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come and embarrass you?”

“Very sure, thank you. Girls’ night out means no men allowed. I’m sorry, did I say no men? I mean no husbands allowed.”

“Just you behave yourself,” Ethan says.

“As if I would do anything else.” And she gives him a wave as he goes to the foot of the stairs to shout for Emily to hurry up or they’re going to be late.

*   *   *

“Sophia?” Andi calls up the stairs. “Are you ready?”

“Coming!” Sophia’s voice floats down, and seconds later there she is, jacket on, backpack packed, book clutched tightly in hand.

“How did you manage to be so grown-up and responsible?” Andi shakes her head with a laugh. “Seriously? I have never come across two girls as different as you and your sister. How did it happen?”

“Seriously?” Sophia says.

“Seriously.”

“Seriously, I think I’m a changeling.”

“What?”

“You know. A fairy child who was swapped with a human baby. Somewhere out there, the real Sophia is being brought up by fairies, and I bet she doesn’t have an evil older sister who tries to make her life a misery.”

Andi barks with laughter. “I bet she doesn’t, but your explanation suddenly makes perfect sense. I always knew you were an angel, and now I know why.” She puts an arm around Sophia and plants a smacking kiss on her cheek as Sophia, giggling, pulls away and runs to the door.

*   *   *

Andi initially thought that being first the father’s girlfriend, then the stepmother, would put her in an awkward position at school. The mothers of Sophia’s classmates had already had years of an established relationship with Brooke. Andi presumed Brooke would have bad-mouthed her to the extent that no one would be interested in befriending her.

As a consequence, in the beginning, Andi tried not to get involved in Sophia’s school life, stepping in only when she was sure there would not be a conflict with Brooke, or when Brooke was definitely not going to be turning up at a school event.

But as regular playdates were set up, and Andi got to know the mothers, she realized that Brooke wasn’t true friends with any of them. She was far too self-involved and damaged, and the few that had reached out had ultimately found that a friendship was too difficult—Brooke would always end up blaming them for some small grievance, and she quickly developed a reputation.

It seems she had moved through the class, forming instant best friendships, only to have them inevitably explode a few weeks later.

Andi, on the other hand, is easy to get along with, and although it took time, slowly, slowly, some of those mothers had become her friends.

It is often like the schoolyard,
she thinks, when she is in school. Brooke’s role, Andi has come to realize, is as victim, and the women who did surround her, in a bid to help her, play into that.
Good luck to them,
Andi thinks, looking at the woman who is, apparently, Brooke’s latest greatest.
Thank God for the friends I have found,
she thinks.
The friends who have provided a constant light in the tempest that comes in the form of Emily.

Good luck to them, and thank you, Lord, for the friends that I have had the grace and good fortune to find.

*   *   *

Tess is Australian. She writes children’s books, has a mouth like a trucker, although she claims to be training herself out of it, and is married to a bazillionaire, not that anyone would know it to look at her. She rarely wears makeup, lives in Patagonia and Reef flip-flops, and has a mouth that looks as if she is always on the verge of laughter, which she often is.

She and her husband, Steve, a dot-com entrepeneur, live in a small glass house on Roscoe, with incredible views over the bay. They cycle everywhere, and when forced to drive, show up in a Prius, or Jeep.

Travel is their indulgence. They fly by private jet to their home in Aspen, or their villa in Mexico. They don’t have a sitter for their two children, Griffin and Sydney, who is one of Sophia’s best friends, but they have a cook and a cleaner who come every day.

Andi had no idea how much money they had until they invited her and Ethan skiing. That they were traveling for free on Steve’s jet was jaw-dropping, then to see Tess and Steve’s wooden house, tucked into the mountain, walls of glass with spectacular views, was awe-inspiring.

“They must be worth fortunes!” Andi whispered to Ethan that night as they showered in Tess’s marble bathroom, laying their clothes on her freshly laundered Pratesi sheets.

“They are.” Ethan laughed. “You didn’t know? Steve is one of the biggest names in the dot-com field. Even I know who he is, and I’m just a landscaper.”

“Wow. I just didn’t expect … I don’t know. She seems so normal. They’re so … unpretentious. I always think people with vast amounts of money must be dripping with diamonds and driving Maseratis.”

“That’s because you’re a New Yorker.” Ethan smiled. “Out here in California, you can never tell. That’s the beauty of living here. That’s why I’ll never leave.”

Deanna is a yoga teacher and, of late, Andi’s closest friend, the one to whom she turns if ever she needs to talk. Tall and willowy, she has curly blond hair that is always haphazardly shoved up on the top of her head with a large spider clip.

Ten years ago, Deanna became a Buddhist, and has always been the calm one of the group, the girl who listens instead of shouting everyone else down in their exuberance and excitement, the one who thoughtfully and calmly imparts words of wisdom.

She has one child, Francesca, whom Sophia was superfriendly with in fourth grade, before they went their separate ways. Deanna and Andi have been trying to get the girls together ever since, but neither of them shows much of an interest in the other, and their mothers have accepted that if it is meant to be, it will be, and that it need not have an impact on the independent friendship they have forged.

Sophia turned to Andi just the other day and suggested having Deanna and Francesca over for tea.

“I thought you weren’t friendly with Francesca anymore,” Andi said as Sophia shrugged.

“I’m not really, but I think we should try because our moms are so friendly.”

Andi had started, in shock. “Your mom’s friendly with Deanna?”

“No!” Sophia laughed. “I mean you!” A warm glow filled Andi’s heart as she put her arms around Sophia and gave her a hug.
If only this beautiful child were enough,
she thought. If only she could be happy with having these children, but the beauty of Sophia only makes her want a child of her own even more.

When her period is due, she is stressed and nervous, praying that it won’t come, praying for the blue line. Deanna was the one who gently suggested Andi would benefit from yoga. Although Andi does, from time to time, attend classes, she doesn’t really get it. Andi lives on nervous energy: constantly moving; constantly doing. When she exercises, she likes to feel it, and with everything going on in her life, she doesn’t have the time for exercise.

Or perhaps she just can’t be bothered.

Either way, yoga has always seemed too damn slow. She finds herself pushing up in downward dog and fighting the irritation.
Bored now.
She wants to move.

*   *   *

The first time Andi went to an event at the school, a school play, she stood in the reception area, sick with nerves, not knowing any of the other parents and aware of the looks she was getting, aware that she was, as the new girlfriend, an intruder. A few yards away, she caught the eye of a wiry blond woman who flashed a huge smile at her and beckoned her over.

I love her,
she thought instantly, drawn by the twinkle in her eye.
I have no idea who this woman is, but I want to be friends with her.

Tess’s warmth enveloped Andi like a comforting blanket; they quickly became inseparable. Tess brought her new clients and had Andi decorate her den so she could show her off to others and bring in new business.

They went together to Deanna’s yoga class after Deanna posted flyers around the school, and stood chatting with her for almost an hour after the class, decided then and there they would all have to get together.

Five years later, these women, together with Isabel and Drew and Topher next door, are Andi’s family, although Tess has removed her children from the public school and sent them to Greenwood, so they see her less and less. Andi misses her, but Deanna has stepped in to fill the void, and Andi thinks of her as the sister she never had.

These women, together with Ethan, were the ones who surrounded her and eased her pain when her mother died. Andi thought she was prepared, had accepted that this time her mother couldn’t win the fight. She flew to Connecticut to say her good-byes, holding her mother and whispering words of love, hoping that, despite the coma, her mother might be able to hear, hoping everyone was ready.

But how can you ever prepare for the loss of your mother?

Andi flew back home after three weeks, and found herself sinking into a deep well of grief. Those women, and Deanna in particular, brought her trays of lasagna and chicken Marbella, drove the girls to their classes, sat and drank wine with her as she cried what felt like a never-ending river of tears.