Play Dates (17 page)

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Leslie Carroll

the happiest man alive—for
her
birthdays, and then, when the girls came along, for theirs—and now, for Zoë, too. You all know that I tend to play fast and loose with the classical forms when I write, but I thought, for Claire this year, that I would revisit the sonnet—the Shakespearean, not the Italian—for those of you keeping score. So, be kind, as it isn’t my usual thing—”

“Disclaimer, disclaimer, disclaimer,” I tease, knowing that whatever he’s chosen to write, to say, is quite a gift.

“Well, then, the birthday girl has spoken. So without further ado, ‘A Sonnet for Claire on the Occasion of Her Twenty-sixth Birthday.’ ” Brendan clears his throat and lets the words flow, his voice like velvet in the near darkness.

“ ’Mid Hunters’ Moon and russet-colored corn
And autumn days that wax too short for mirth,
A fair-haired child, a pilgrim soul, was born.

We called you Claire, for ‘lighting’ up the Earth.

You worshipped wonder in your golden youth,
Chased shooting stars and mourned them when they fell.

Along the yellow highway you met truth
With dauntless courage, heart, and brains as well.

Your path is arduous, but with your strength
And dint of will, you surely will prevail.

To reach the pot of gold at rainbow’s length
You’ll try again, if ever you should fail.

With child in hand, surmounting double strife
You’ll beat the odds—and win the game of life.”

“That’s really beautiful, Daddy. Thank you.” My eyes are wet, my vision blurred by tears. Tulia and Mia murmur their compliments. Scott looks uncomfortable, Serena more so.

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“I could really use a cigarette,” she says, getting up from the table. She glides out of the room and leaves the house.

“She doesn’t
smoke
, does she?” I ask Scott, thinking how hyp-ocritical it would be for Miss Raw Food to be having a nic-fit.

“No, Claire, she doesn’t. She just said she could really
use
a butt right now. She’s under a lot of pressure this evening.”

“And I’m not? Thanks to you?”

“I liked Mommy’s poem a lot, too,” Zoë says.

“Well, fire her up, Charles,” my mother instructs Happy Chef.

He strikes a match and lights the candles while everyone, minus the missing Serena, sings Happy Birthday. Zoë, the little wench, insists on taking a solo, singing the “how old are you now?”

verse, thereby compelling me to reply. I wish I could lie about my age, but the cat’s already out of the bag, and besides, it would be teaching my daughter a bad lesson, so I’m screwed, and warble the truth.

“Make a wish, Mommy! And don’t forget to close your eyes.

And don’t say it out loud or it won’t come true.”

Once, it would have been for a great pair of shoes or a bracelet, or a fabulous vacation. World peace is out of my control. Come to think of it, I could still use that vacation. I shut my eyes and send my little prayer to the birthday gods, then take a deep breath. Everyone knows that if you don’t blow out all your candles in one shot, your wish won’t come true. Why do you think I didn’t want twenty-seven candles? But I wish and I whoosh and I get ’em all.

I start to cut the cake, and Zoë reminds me that the birthday girl gets the first slice, so I set mine aside and start serving the rest of the family. Serena returns to the table and waves her hand to decline dessert. Not even the pumpkin pie, because it, too, is dead. Zoë and Mia start to attack Serena again, but I shush them. One food fight per meal is more than enough.

My mother, who has been passing around plates of pumpkin pie, sends down a plate for Zoë and winks at me. I take the hint

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and stop slicing my birthday cake at six pieces, then sit down to dig into my own.

Zoë looks at her plate. “But . . . but . . . but . . . I said I wanted birthday cake, too.” Her eyes tear up as though she’s turned on a faucet behind them.

“I was just double-checking. I didn’t want to ruin your special diet by serving you food that wasn’t orange,” I say evenly.

“I told you, Mommy, it’s
bad luck
not to.”

“Okay,” I sigh, catching my mother’s eye. She grins. “It’s your rule.”

Zoë tucks into the birthday cake with the fervor of someone whose jaw has just been unwired. She puts down her fork and looks up. “The rule is . . . the
rule
is . . . the rule
is
. . .” She says, waggling her hands, as though that will help her to better organize her thought. “The rule
is
that once you have one thing that isn’t orange, you don’t have to have everything orange anymore.”

My mother, part psychologist, part partner in crime, sucks in her cheeks, trying to hide our giddy victory from her granddaughter. The spell is broken. I sigh, exhaling enough air to extinguish another twenty-seven birthday candles and blow Tulia a grateful kiss.

Chapter 8

DECEMBER

Dear Diary:

Mommy and I are fighting. After Thanksgiving and her birthday,
she asked me to think about what kind of birthday party I want
to have. Ashley’s mommy and daddy gave her a Barbie party at
a really fancy toy store when she had her birthday. All the girls in
our class were there. We got to dress up in our pajamas and sleep
in the store. It was so fun. I asked if we could do that, but I want
a Powerpuff Girls party instead of Barbie. Mommy said we
couldn’t do that this year. I asked her why and she said because
it costs a lot of money to have all those little girls at a party at the
store. So I said maybe I could only invite a few people, like the
girls who are really my best friends instead of the whole class. Except at my school we are supposed to invite the whole class when
we have birthday parties so nobody feels left out. I want to invite
Xander Osborne, so maybe I shouldn’t have a Powerpuff Girls
party because boys don’t care about the Powerpuff Girls.

Mommy told me if I wanted I could have a Powerpuff Girls
party at home with a PPG tablecloth and napkins and party fa-

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vors. But that’s not fun. That’s for babies and all my friends do
stuff that’s really special and grown-up for their birthdays.

My friend Ben from yoga class had his birthday party at the
planetarium. We all watched the movie about how the Earth was
created and the big bang. I don’t think Ben’s dad liked it very
much. He’s a rabbi. He walked out of the movie and almost
tripped on the stairs because it was so dark. He stepped on
Mommy’s foot because he couldn’t see where he was going. Afterwards we had cake and ice cream and pizza and we had a quiz
on all the planets and the kids who got the answers right got
prizes. I got a glow-in-the-dark mobile of the planets and it’s hanging in my room over my bed.

Everything I asked Mommy if we could do for my birthday, she
said no. She kept saying I should think of something else and
when I did, then she told me we couldn’t do it. It’s not fair. She
made me cry and then I made her cry. And then I went into my
room and closed the door hard and cried on my bed. Only Baa
understands what kind of party I want.

Mommy came into my room and said we have to talk like big
girls. That if I don’t want a party for babies, then I shouldn’t act
like one. So I asked if we could all go to a play like we did for
April and May’s party last spring. That’s for big girls. Because my
birthday is the same day as Christmas Eve, maybe we could go
see the Rockettes, like Mommy and I do together every Christmas.

I want to be a Rockette when I grow up. They get to wear lots of
different outfits in their show. My favorite one is the purple velvet
one with the white trim. It looks like an ice-skating dress. Maybe
next year I can take tap-dancing instead of ballet. If I don’t become a Rockette I might be an astronaut when I grow up because
I really like the planets and the stars. Or I could be a Rockette at
Christmas when they have their show and then the rest of the
year I could be an astronaut.

Mommy said no to the Rockette show and no Powerpuff Girls
sleepover party at the really fancy toy store.

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Ashley’s big sister Tennyson had a party at their summer
house, which is near where Granny Tulia and Grandpa Brendan
live. They have little ponies that are as big as really big dogs and
we got rides on them. I got to go to the party because I’m Ashley’s
best friend and Mommy and I went out there on the train and we
stayed overnight at Grandpa Brendan and Granny Tulia’s. Ashley and Tennyson’s mom and dad have a big room where they
can show movies. It looks just like a real movie theater, only
smaller. So after the pony rides and swimming in their pool, we
saw the new Disney movie that isn’t even in the real movie theaters yet. We had popcorn from a popcorn making cart they have
that looks like the one at the circus. I know we don’t have ponies
but maybe we could have something like that. Mommy said she
would think about it but she didn’t look like she was thinking
very hard.

Mommy always has to work now. Her job gave her more tours
so sometimes she can’t pick me up from school. When she has to
work, I go home with Ashley or I go to April and May’s house for
a play date. Sometimes MiMi comes to get me, when she doesn’t
have to work. Last week after school MiMi came to get me and
we took a taxi down to the Lord and Taylor store to see the
Christmas windows. They were all from
Peter P

and they had

an

puppets that flew inside the windows. Michael had his teddy bear
and John had his umbrella and his black hat and Wendy was
blonde and wore her hair pulled up at the sides and in a little
bun just like my imaginary friend Wendy.

We walked up Fifth Avenue and we stopped to look at the big
Christmas tree and the people skating and we saw the Christmas
windows at the fancy store near there, too. That store had an old-fashioned Christmas in the windows and it looked like the house
that Granny Tulia and Grandpa Brendan have in Sag Harbor.

The windows had Christmas trees decorated with candles on
them and fireplaces and ladies in beautiful long dresses and kids
playing with old toys.

started to hurt so we got in

My feet hurted

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Leslie Carroll

another taxi and we went to the Plaza Hotel and we had hot
chocolate with Marsh-mallows and looked at the painting of
Eloise. I bet Eloise could have had any kind of birthday party she
wanted. She would have just had to say it, and Nanny would
have said it was okay.

MiMi took me home after that and then after I said hi to my
Mommy, I went into my room to read
Harriet the Spy
and I
heard Mommy and MiMi get in a fight. Mommy said to MiMi
that SHE had wanted to take me to see the windows and the
Christmas tree because we do that together every year at this
time. And SHE wanted to take me to see Eloise, too, as her special
treat to me for getting 100s on all my spelling and writing tests.

Mommy told MiMi that she was spoiling me. I don’t know what
that means, but spoiled things like milk and meat aren’t good
things and you have to throw them away.

When I heard Mommy say that, I came into the kitchen where
she and MiMi were talking because I didn’t want her to throw
me away. I was crying and she told me not to cry. She said she
would never throw me away in a million thousand years and
that “spoiled” is an expression. She said it means that MiMi was
giving me so many special treats that I would get used to having
treats all the time and not like to do normal stuff anymore.

MiMi said she likes to take me places and it makes her happy
to do it. It makes me happy too and I told them. I told Mommy
that I love doing nice stuff with her, too, but that we hardly ever
get to do that anymore. They told me to go play in my room, but I
didn’t want to do that. I wanted to be with them in the kitchen,
so I had a glass of milk and I stayed.

MiMi told Mommy it wasn’t HER fault that Mommy is so
busy. She said that just because things are hard for Claire, it
doesn’t mean that she (MiMi) should be stopped from taking me
fun places and getting me treats. MiMi said to Mommy that she
makes “good money” (what is bad money?) and Mommy has no
right to tell her how to spend it. Mommy said she didn’t like it
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that MiMi was acting like the mommy. She said MiMi was “playing house” with me and that having a child is more than going to
fun places together. She said MiMi doesn’t see me when I’m sick
or in a bad mood. And she said that if MiMi had a child of her
own, she’d see how hard it is to raise her.

Then they were really shouting at each other and it made me
so sad because I hate it when people are mad at each other and I
hate shouting. I went away when they started shouting again and
I crawled under the piano, which is where I like to hide when people fight. That’s where I went to hide when Mommy and Daddy
started fighting. There is a big red pillow and a big orange pillow
under the piano and I would crawl in between them and make a
Zoë sandwich until they stopped being mad at each other.