Jessica and I are both essentially stay at home moms, like a lot of other parents out here. You could almost say it’s epidemic. When I met Jason, I was working as a journalist at a newspaper in Manhattan. I was getting paid practically nothing, but there was a lot of upward mobility at the paper, and if I had stayed on, I’d probably have a pretty good job there by now. Maybe I would’ve moved on to a better paper. Maybe I’d be an editor-in-chief. But after I got pregnant, Jason convinced me to move out to the island. I agreed because I was sick of our tiny Manhattan apartment, but once we got to the island, the commute was insane. He pointed out that I didn’t earn even close to the amount we would be paying in child care, and that his income could easily support us.
So I quit. Temporarily.
I had every intention of going back to work after Liam started preschool. But then Hannah came along two years later. And between the two of them, there was always some emergency popping up. Hannah got ear infections every other week, and on the weeks she didn’t get ear infections, she got conjunctivitis. And then there with the whole mess with Liam.
Right now, I work for a local newspaper called the Nassau Nutshell. You can tell by the name that they do a lot of hard-hitting journalism—not. They put out one paper per week, and I contribute a couple of articles, mostly on local events or parenting advice. Last week, I wrote an article featuring three meals you could cook for the whole family in twenty minutes or less. What they pay me each month didn’t even cover the price of the groceries I bought to cook those three meals, but it stimulates my brain and I could write the articles from home. Jason always makes a big fuss when the paper comes out and reads all my articles, and it’s fun to see my byline in print. No, it’s not The New York Times. But it’s something. For now.
Jessica, on the other hand, has absolutely embraced the stay at home mom lifestyle. She is the most visible parent at the high school, and her kids are involved in every sport and extracurricular activity you can imagine. In my more optimistic moments, I hope that’s why Tyler and Liam aren’t friends anymore. Because Tyler is just too damn busy.
“Erika!” Jessica flashes me a bright smile as I slide into the booth across from her. “It’s so good to spend a little time with you. It’s been ages, hasn’t it?”
Can we dispense with the small talk and you just tell me what urgent thing you need to tell me? I force a smile. “Yes. It really has.”
“We should do this more often, shouldn’t we?”
I nod. “Definitely.”
We won’t. I used to be friends with several of the parents at the school, but I’ve got my reasons for keeping my distance now.
I flag down a waitress to place my order for a cup of coffee. Whatever she’s got to say will be easier to take after a shot of caffeine. “How is your mother?” Jessica asks once the waiter has left.
Jessica Martinson should be a politician. She is fantastic at remembering little details about everyone she knows. Even though I know it’s all an act, I feel oddly touched that she remembered to ask about my mother. And the truth is, my mother has been on my mind a lot lately. She is nearly eighty and living all alone in a small house in New Jersey. But she’s tough—my father died when I was very young, and she’s been doing it alone ever since.
“She’s hanging in there,” I say. “I’d love for her to move closer, but she’s really stubborn. She’ll never leave her house.”
“I know what you mean.” Jessica takes a sip of her coffee. She has poured so much cream into it, it looks like chocolate milk. “My mother is the same way. We’ve got a room for her in our house, but she won’t budge.”
“I suppose I understand. She’s got all her friends out in Jersey.”
Jessica crinkles her nose. “But it’s Jersey.”
We both laugh, and I remember why I used to be friends with Jessica. She’s so good at talking to people, whether she likes them or not. In that sense, she’s not unlike Liam.
But she’s not really like him. Not at all. Nobody is.
I clear my throat. “So what did you want to talk to me about, Jessica?”
I hold my breath, waiting for her to take another sip from her coffee. “Oh, right,” she says. “I need your help, Erika. Movie night is turning into a disaster. Would you take over the reins?”
I let out the breath. I should have known that’s what Jessica wanted to talk to me about. Movie night takes place at the high school once a year. They put up a big screen in the football field and charge people three dollars each for entry. They sell pizza at two dollars a slice. It’s a big fundraiser for the PTA, and therefore, it’s on Jessica’s shoulders to get it organized.