“You alright there?” said Priya, with a small smile.
“Let’s turn the last book club into a multi-culti party,” Janine was saying, “and instead of food related to the book, we’ll bring food reflecting our different heritages.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Unless you think the vandal is railing against our diversity, which—um.” Deb looked around the room with skepticism.
“This isn’t about what the vandal thinks, it’s about a statement we make to ourselves. We are a melting pot, ladies.”
“It’s salad bowl.”
A furrow appeared on the narrow bridge of Janine’s nose.
“Salad bowl, not melting pot, because ‘melting pot’ implies a disintegration of individual culture.”
“Well, whatever, then.” Janine threw her hands up. “Salad bowl. I’ll bring my mother’s cassoulet, and Priya, you can bring those amazing samosas you brought to my Christmas crafting party. Athena, I’m sure there’s some wonderful Kenyan dish you can bring, maybe a nice peanut stew, unless that’s from some other part of Africa? And Deb can bring a special beverage, and Jen will obviously bring something Chinese, so that’s at least five nationalities represented.”
“I’m not Chinese.”
“Are you sure?” Janine squinted at Jen. “I thought you were part Chinese.”
After a moment of openmouthed disbelief, Jen swallowed. “Unless you know something I don’t, Janine, my dad is Filipino.”
“What a shame.” Janine frowned. “I was going to ask you for help with Katie’s project on the Han dynasty. Oh well. Why are you all looking at me like that? You’ll bring something Filipino then—”
“But growing up we didn’t really—”
“Filipino food,” Janine said firmly, “will be a real treat for the rest of us!”
Jen caught Priya’s eye roll, her angry frown.
“Janine,” Priya said.
“What? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Anyway, Lena I’m assuming your mother was Mexican? Because of the salsa—anyway, is that a bad thing for me to say? Seriously. Why is everyone still looking at me like that?”
“My mom was born in Mexico City,” Lena said.
“Perfect. Six different nationalities! Seven, if Carol can bring something Jamaican, yum, yum! We’ll need a sign-up sheet.”
“My grandma made this amazing dolma.”
“Where’s dolma from?”
“Turkey.”
“Well how about that, we’ve got Turkey represented too! See? Salad bowl! What else do we have in our glorious family trees, ladies?”
The room erupted with talk of childhood meals and whether it was okay to bring something outside of your heritage, because Harriet wasn’t Ethiopian but she knew how to make doro wot and would be happy to bring that. Would it be homage or appropriation? No one could decide.
“Or we could just skip the cooking and invest in a neighborhood security camera,” Annie said.
Jen held her breath as she waited for the group to jump on the suggestion, but instead the conversation turned to a showy and pointless debate about who should be the creator of a Multi-Culti Night assignment sheet.
（Spoiler alert: it was going to be Janine.） If the security camera idea resurfaced, Jen was prepared to give a pretty little speech about how Orwellian panic could erode the warm neighborly trust that was the essence of Cottonwood. She’d work to get Harriet on board first and then sell it to the rest.
But why did Jen even care? Laurel Perley, not Abe, was the one who went out late at night, got into who knew what kind of mischief.
Because Jen didn’t like thought of the entire neighborhood gunning for a child, any child. It was a matter of principle!
“Jen,” Janine said. She twirled her pen like a baton. “Do you have a specific dish in mind, or should I just write down Something Filipino. Yes?”
Jen managed to keep a straight face. “Something Filipino. Thanks for your cultural sensitivity.”
Deb snorted loudly, but Janine flashed a distracted smile. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Annie Perley was on the sofa, her hand pressed against her mouth to stifle laughter, her shoulders shaking in mirth. She did not look in the least concerned about an Orwellian panic overtaking the neighborhood, or about video cameras capturing her daughter in the act.
Laurel Perley had come over last week for ice cream and video games after a game of basketball with Abe and Colin. She seemed polite and sweet and not at all like someone who would destroy property.