That afternoon, the parking lot at Oasis Springs West was virtually empty. A large bulletin board displayed little smiling faces with Our Kids Have Character in bright red letters across the top. She read the captions: Amy brings the crossing guard bottled water every morning. Max picks up the litter on the playground. Chase used a 3D printer to make an accessible staff directory for blind students. It read like a shrine to the Ivy League hopes of their parents. Meanwhile, on the other side of town was OS South, smaller with lower test scores, fewer PTA funds, and perilously close to a “failing” designation. It was also majority Black and brown kids. When Rachel first moved to Oasis Springs, Faith had attended OS South, but once she got married, their zoning changed, and Matt was aggressively anti–school choice. Faith told her years later that on her first day at West, an older boy called her ghetto and threw her backpack in the trash.
Rachel heard footsteps heading her way and looked up, expecting to see Hailey’s exasperated face, but Mia turned the corner instead.
“There you are.” Mia sat down beside her, stretched out her legs, and sighed. “My mother is looking for you.”
Rachel eyed the casual comfort of Mia’s sweatpants with envy. “She wants to interview me.”
“I know.”
“I’m hiding.”
“That’s obvious. I’m surprised you agreed.”
Rachel wanted to confess that she was in marital purgatory and didn’t have a choice. “The gala funds the art programs here,” she said instead. “Surely she’ll play nice for the kids.”
“Mom never played nice for Niles and me.” Mia looked up at the colorful display filled with tiny, gap-toothed faces. “I hate this school.”
Rachel followed her gaze. “They do look a little brainwashed, don’t they?”
Mia laughed. “No, it’s not the kids, it’s the parents. They called an emergency PTA meeting. Like those exist. Mom hitched a ride.”
“I joined the PTA,” Rachel said. “But I wasn’t…” Interested? Welcome? Half the women resented her for snagging Matt. The other half were obsessed with vaginal steaming and charcuterie in a way that felt cultish. “I wasn’t very active. What was the emergency?”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Fall bake sales are evil now. Filled with sugar and gluten and problematic messages about the gender binary. There was so much shouting.” Mia shuddered. “Mainly from me. I think I blacked out yelling about brownies. It’s embarrassing.” She shrugged. “But I won, so who cares?”
“Well, congratulations. Enjoy making all those cookies.”
“Girl, I can’t bake. I’m booking a vacation that week.”
Rachel snorted. “You yelled at the OS West PTA, which is basically an organized crime syndicate. I would leave and never come back.”
They burst into laughter. Rachel wiped her eyes and said, “Let me know if you need help.”
Mia nodded. “I’d like that. Why don’t you come to my house, and we can—” She stopped and listened to the sound of high heels clicking against the floor. Alesha rounded the corner with Hailey trailing close behind.
“Ms. Williams,” Hailey sputtered. “If we could talk—”
Alesha held up her hand and cut off Hailey’s protests. “I don’t need your permission to speak to my niece.”
Mia stood. “It’s my fault Rachel’s late. She was too nice to tell me to shut up.”
Alesha looked at Rachel. “I need to speak with you alone.”
Hailey dove forward with splayed hands. “Wait, no. That isn’t what we agreed to.”
“This isn’t about the interview. It’s a family matter.”
Hailey bit her lip. “I’ll call Matt.”
Alesha snatched the phone from her hand. “No, you won’t. He’s not her overseer.”
Rachel was sweating. If Alesha knew about Matt’s affair, it would be in the paper by morning. “It’s fine, Hailey. Leave us alone.”
Hailey hitched up her chin. “I’m not comfortable with that. This is completely unprofessional.”
It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Alesha looked giddy. “You’ll be even more uncomfortable if you stay.”
“I’m just doing my job,” Hailey said.
Alesha shrugged. “Okay, fine. On the record. Why is your staff conducting focus groups on Rachel?”
Hailey seemed startled. She looked at Rachel and Mia as if she’d just realized she was outnumbered. “We always monitor public opinion about the candidate.”