Totlandia: Spring (6 page)

This particular gathering would also introduce the four probationary Onesies applicants who, after several months of highly competitive challenges, had won full membership in the Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club. Having read Bettina’s veiled threat in the carefully worded invitation, which stated “Your presence to this event is appreciated on or before eleven forty-five a.m.,” many PHM&T members and their fidgety offspring had lined up outside the yacht club’s double doors as early as eleven.

“They must think Apple is here to unveil another damn iPhone,” the doorman muttered under his breath as he peered out at the growing crowd.

The early birds included the six legacy Onesies moms: Hillary Trumbull and her daughter, Ava; Marcia Broderick and her daughter, Ella; Bella Adams with her son, Liam; Doreen Landau and her son, Ethan; Janine Ledbetter and her son, Jackson; and Gwen Markham and her son, Nathan. Everyone already had a child in one of the other age groups.

By eleven thirty, all the members were seated, and their children were already ensconced in the adjacent “children’s party room” where healthy snacks had been set up and twelve of the city’s most highly regarded sitters were standing by to feed, diaper, and play age-appropriate games.

Excitement was already crackling through the air.

Perfect,
Bettina thought.
Now as each of the winners arrive, I’ll walk her in and personally reintroduce her to the club.

The first probationer to come in was Lorna with Dante in tow. Bettina grimaced. Too bad it wasn’t one of the other winners. Her ears pricked up, alert to any faint murmurs of nepotism. She need not worry. The emotional choke collar around her members’ necks was always held tight within her slim fingers. No one wanted to be yanked onto the carpet, let alone exiled from the club for grousing about their fearless founder.

“You’re prompt. How refreshing,” Bettina murmured in Lorna’s ear as she air-kissed her sister-in-law and patted her solemn little nephew on his check. Then she shuttled Lorna into the dining room and announced in a loud voice, “Ladies, your attention! The first of our newest members has arrived. Please welcome Lorna Connaught, who brought the revenue from our recipe book fundraiser to Olympian heights!”

The applause was enthusiastic. Too much so for Bettina’s liking. She nodded at Mallory Wickett, who took the hint and practically shoved Lorna in the direction of her assigned table.

Just at that moment, Jade walked in, holding Oliver. Bettina’s eyes swept over her appraisingly. “Ah, and here is another of our newest members, Jade Pierce.” She held out her hand to Jade, who took it hesitantly. “Such a fashion plate! Is that Valentino?...I thought so. Black lace over white poplin and buttoned to the collar! So innocently school-girlish! You carry it off
soooo
well. And such a wonderful addition to our club! We’ll never forget your pumpkin patch event.” She turned toward the other mothers. “Am I right, ladies?”

At this last declaration, the thunderous applause over Jade’s choice of couture diminished to a few timid claps. The memory of Lily’s plaintive screams in the corn maze was still fresh in every young mother’s mind.

By the way Jade scurried to her seat, she’d never forget the incident either. Or maybe she was afraid Bettina might change her mind about her membership.

I want her to be afraid,
Bettina thought.
Very afraid. Anything to keep her in line. At least until Art is managing Brady’s portfolio.

Jillian’s entry into the dining room was somewhat disconcerting. From what Bettina could see, the poor thing was sweating right through her coat, and her shoes were inexplicably mud-spattered. Obviously, she hadn’t driven or arrived in a hired car. Bettina had heard that Jillian was an avid jogger, but this was ridiculous. No one jogged in Louboutins. Heck, you could barely walk in them.

Noting Bettina’s disapproval, Jillian cast her eyes downward.

Bettina shrugged. “Well, well, just in time! Here is our third new member, Jillian Frederickson, and her twin daughters, Addison and Amelia.” She signaled one of the sitters to wheel the girls’ stroller into the playroom. Turning back to Jillian, she added, “My dear, I think I gained five pounds just sniffing the delicious pies you brought to our after-Thanksgiving potluck! And my favorite event this year was our holiday party. Wouldn’t you agree, Mallory?”

There were a few audible groans at the memory of Mallory’s feisty little brat, Angus, pulling down the witch’s cap on top of the Fairmont Hotel’s gingerbread house.

Mallory rarely smiled, so no one was surprised that she wasn’t doing so now. And when Jillian yelped as Mallory pushed her into her seat, no one batted an eye, either.

Bettina shrugged. Even Mallory couldn’t ruin her day. This morning she’d finally received a text from the Tibetan mastiff breeder. Since leaving Le Marcel Bakery, she had emailed the breeder every hour on the hour. Finally, just this morning, the damn woman emailed back! Her response was short and to the point.
Come by at four o’clock, sharp, next Tuesday. I live in St. Francis Wood. My address is -…

No way in hell was Bettina going to miss that date! And she’d take Lily with her to pick out the puppy herself. It was the least she could do. The lost ballet skirts had upset her little daughter to no end. “Ballet Master will make me wear pink,” she wailed. “I’ll be humiliated!”

In truth, even the promise of a new puppy brought only a half-hearted shrug. But Bettina knew once Lily saw the puppy, held it in her arms, and trained it to obey her and to love her, everything would change.

Yes, obedience is the key to every relationship,
she thought.

At that moment, Ally walked in. “Finally!” Bettina smiled over at her. “Last but not least, we have Ally Thornton, and…and…”

She stared at the package in Ally’s arms. Was it a child? By the way the thing was wrapped, for all she knew it could have been a
Dia de los Muertos
figurine.

Bettina frowned. “I
presume
this is little Zoe.”

Ally blushed, but nodded just the same. “So sorry we’re late! Zoe just got back from the doctor. That’s why she’s wrapped up this way—to keep from scratching and spreading it around—”

“Oh my God! She’s got measles!” cried one mother who was sitting at the Foursies table. She vaulted toward the playroom. “Sadie has never been exposed! I’ve got to get her out of here, or they won’t let us make our flight for Europe the day after tomorrow!”

“No, no! It’s got to be mumps,” a mother at the Twosies table screamed. “And there are so many babies here who haven’t finished their shot sequences—including my Zachary!”

She popped up so fast that she took the tablecloth with her. All the vases on the table fell over. Their contents of flowers and water washed into the laps of other mothers sitting with her, who squealed in dismay.

A woman from the Threesies table stood up and pointed at Ally. “Did you say your child wasn’t vaccinated—and that she has Rubella? How could you expose our children to her? How could you?”

“Wait! I didn’t say she had any of those things! And she’s certainly not contagious! My goodness,
it’s only poison sumac!”

Too late. The stampede toward the playroom sounded like an 8.0 earthquake.

Bettina clicked her knife against her Baccarat glass goblet. “Ladies, please…PLEASE! SIT DOWN!”

Everyone froze. Glances were exchanged. Did they dare disobey?

Of course not.

Slowly, they made their way back to their seats.

Bettina glared at Ally. “You did an excellent job with the adult holiday party, but let’s face it, it was a snore. That said, I never expected this kind of drama from you. And isn’t your husband a doctor?”

The question took Ally by surprise. “Um…Barry? No! He’s a lawyer.”

Damn! Well, that certainly presents a vexing dilemma,
Bettina thought. If she axed Ally for bringing a child who wasn’t contagious to a meeting, she might be facing a lawsuit, and that would never do. Better she should hold her powder. Besides, of all the women in the Onesies, even Bettina had to concede that Ally was the most likeable.

Which brought her to the task at hand: finding the best Onesies mother to join her and the others she’d considered the most worthy—or at least the most malleable—on the T☺p M☺ms Applicati☺n C☺mmittee.

In her opinion, the pickings were slim to none. Had any of the legacies been worthy, they’d already be sitting on the committee. At best they were weak Plan Bs. Still, they too would be put through their paces along with Those Formerly Known as Onesies Probies.

She smiled down on them grandly from the podium. “Ladies, now that I have your full attention, I’m letting you in on a momentous change to our club’s bylaws. From now on, the newest member of PHM&T’s T☺p M☺ms Applicati☺n C☺mmittee—that is, the mother who’ll join us from the Onesies Group—will rise from the ashes of her fellow group members’ failed tasks, like the fabled phoenix.”

Bettina paused so that her oratorical eloquence could be duly appreciated.

From the blank stares of the others in the room, her pause had given everyone else a reason to scratch their beautifully coiffed heads.

Bettina sighed loudly. “Seriously? Okay, this isn’t rocket science, so try to follow.” She reached into the podium and pulled out a tiny glass heart-shaped candy dish filled with folded tabs.

In unison, Lorna, Jillian, Ally and Jade also sighed loudly and resignedly. They’d recognize it anywhere. The challenge tasks they’d pulled from the thick-sided, diamond-etched Baccarat bric-a-brac had been the bane of their existences these past few months.

Bettina ignored them. “I’ll be asking all ten of the Onesies moms to pull a folded tab from this dish. Written on it is a challenge task. Between now and Mother’s Day—quite appropriately, wouldn’t you say?—these tasks will be completed. The current committee will judge who has excelled at it. And this woman—this
mother
—will be invited to join the committee.”

The loudest gasps came from the Legacy Onesies’ mothers. Whereas they’d enjoyed the trials and tribulations of the probationers, they never dreamed they’d be submitted to it themselves! But what choice did they have?

None, if they wanted to stay in the club.

They bowed their heads in shame.

“Okay now, who will go first?” Bettina asked brightly.

No one moved.

Annoyed, Bettina handed the dish to Kimberley Savitch and waved her hand toward the Onesies table. “Pass it around.”

Smiling slyly, Kimberley placed it in front of Jade.

Jade stared at it for an eternity before closing her eyes and plucking out a tab. Then, opening one eye, she read, “‘Come up with an advanced placement class for the Fivesies.’” She stared at Bettina. “What does that mean?”

“Lucky you!” Bettina clasped her hands together in mock joy. “It should be both fun and easy! So that we can best prepare our little geniuses for their future academic experiences, we’ll be giving them a much-needed head start by developing the kinds of advanced placement classes we’d like to see in our schools. In fact, six others will get similar tasks. Another mom will also curate a Fivesies AP program, while two others will do so for the Foursies, and then one each for the Threesies, Twosies, and Onesies.”

The women shifted in their seats uncomfortably. Seeing this, Bettina shrugged. “Not to worry! You’ll have plenty of time to put together a curriculum outline and find an instructor with a stellar
curriculum vitae.
These are due no later than the Monday after Mother’s Day. Interviews will commence the following Wednesday. Should your class be accepted, these forty-five-minute classes will begin the Wednesday after, and continue every Wednesday, through August. To make your group’s Top Mom, you’ll be judged on the class’s originality, and the instructor’s stellar credentials. Okay, next in line, please!”

It was Gwen Markham’s turn. Her hand shook as it pulled out a tag. She frowned. “I’ve got to come up with a Foursies AP class.”

“We’ll alert the media, Gwen. Okay, Jillian, it seems you’re next.”

Jillian bit her lower lip, then reached into the dish. She sighed with relief. “I have the children’s Valentine party.”

Both Hillary Trumbull and Maureen Landau pulled Advanced Placement class coordination for the Twosies and Onesies respectively.

It was Lorna’s turn. She pulled “Easter Egg Hunt Extravaganza” as her task.

Seeing Lorna’s dismay, Bettina’s lips curdled into a smirk. “Wonderful! I can’t think of a better person to coordinate the dyeing, decorating and hiding of a thousand eggs in Lafayette Park!”

Ally smiled gaily when she saw her task. “I have the parent’s Valentine party.”

Bettina shrugged. “If you do it at your place, hold it inside, okay? Less chance of a poison sumac outbreak.”

To their dismay, Marcia Broderick and Bella Adams were to create appropriately challenging advanced placement classes for the Threesies and Foursies respectively. Jane Ledbetter pulled the final AP class, for the Fivesies.

“May the odds be ever in your favor!” To express her jubilation, Bettina threw her well-toned arms in the air. “I’m famished! Shall we eat?”

She was not at all surprised that the ten Onesies moms barely ate their lunches.

They seemed to have lost appetites.

2:15 p.m.

“Hey, so listen, I’ve got a plan!” Ally ran to catch up to Jillian, who had been the first to vault out of the yacht club while the other mothers lingered leisurely to gossip and set up play dates.

“Great, because I need one. I’m at my wit’s end.” Jillian blinked away her tears. “I hate to say it out loud, but I’m desperately short on money.”

Ally patted her friend’s arm. “Let me walk you to your car.”

Jillian blushed. “You can’t. I no longer own one. It was repossessed this morning.”

“Wow! I’m sorry, Jill. Hey, jump in with Zoe and me. I’ll treat you and the girls to coffee at the Grove. And a piece of pie. Of course, it won’t be half as delicious as yours.”

Jillian laughed. “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me. Besides, you had me at ‘treat.’”