were perfect like you were. For godsakes, Beth Ann, didn’t I teach y’all to be feminists? Nell would roll in her grave.”
“Yeah, so sorry I’m not following in her stellar footsteps, Lou. And I
am
a feminist. But I also want to be feminine. I think of myself as a feminine-icist.”
Eventually, she admitted that had she known some implants had to be replaced, she would never have gotten them done in the first place. But now that she owned no less than five thousand dollars’ worth of imported lingerie, there was no going back to the old A’s.
“Oh. That’s a fine rationale,” Lou had said. “Wanna know Victoria’s Secret? She doesn’t have one. ’Cause there’s nothing mysterious about her.”
“That’s why I don’t buy their cheap thongs.”
Beth hadn’t blown herself up to porn star proportions. She bought a firm pair of high C’s, the same I sported twice with the pregnancies, before they reverted back to their default consistency of loose tapioca spooned into Baggies. But I loved her too in that moment. Beth was an unhappy woman, completely and utterly by choice, I thought.
“Hi, Peach,” Beth said, straightening herself up and looking right at me. In her tone I could tell we had a long talk ahead of us.
“Hello, Miss Archer. Looking well,” I said, smiling and hugging her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Laliberté. As are you.”
“Tell me, Miss Archer, what brings you here on a Thursday may I ask?”
“Interesting question, Mrs. Laliberté. First of all, we’re not in production for six weeks, and since I own the show, I can do what I want, pretty much when I want. It’s called the perks.”
“How marvelous for you.”
“Yes, it is marvelous. Also,” she added, knowing her cover was blown, “on the morrow’s morn we are departing this little hellhole called home, because Jeb and Nadia are hosting a dinner party in your honor tomorrow night in Brooklyn, and
we
have fancy reservations on Saturday night. More on that later. And on Sunday, breakfast at Tartine before I take you to the airport.”
“Hmm … interesting. Are those places nearby? Because, you see, I have two young sons who need minding,” I said, smiling over to the boys to cue their surprise reactions.
“Why no, they are not nearby. They are located in the city of New York, on the island of Manhattan. Come on down, Peachy Laliberté, you’re the next contestant on
You’re Coming to New York With Your Sister Tomorrow
!”
On cue, the boys knocked out their strangely aggressive little jazz numbers.
“So? Whaddya think, Peach? I know you’ve never flown and you don’t want to leave the boys, but—”
“Beth. Really. I can’t wait,” I said, pointing to my already-packed carry-all behind the front door.
“Beau, you have a big mouth,” Beth said, tiptoeing into the kitchen where he was digging out beers from the bottom of the fridge. She slapped his ass hard with an open palm. Then she began to dig down the back of his jeans to tug up his underwear, which made the boys giggle with delight. Beau squirmed away from her in discomfort.
“Ow.
Hey
, I didn’t say anything. Peachy’s the snoop.”
He knew I could get touchy about any intimacy between them. So did Beth, which is why she would launch these little attacks in the first place. It was her way of reasserting that his body wasterritory she had originally conquered, then discarded. She got there first, not me. And though I couldn’t imagine Beth wanting Beau again, he was, indeed, an average male starved for affection and attention, more so now since worrying about Sam’s illness had long supplanted sex as the number one thing I liked to do with my husband in bed.
As though to cut the tension caused by Beth’s teasing, the boys began their customary show-and-tell. Sam displayed several cool rocks he found by the river, one by one, on Nana Beecher’s oak table. And Jake talked through a hand puppet into Beth’s muscled shoulder, saying, “I’m
“Yeah, so sorry I’m not following in her stellar footsteps, Lou. And I
am
a feminist. But I also want to be feminine. I think of myself as a feminine-icist.”
Eventually, she admitted that had she known some implants had to be replaced, she would never have gotten them done in the first place. But now that she owned no less than five thousand dollars’ worth of imported lingerie, there was no going back to the old A’s.
“Oh. That’s a fine rationale,” Lou had said. “Wanna know Victoria’s Secret? She doesn’t have one. ’Cause there’s nothing mysterious about her.”
“That’s why I don’t buy their cheap thongs.”
Beth hadn’t blown herself up to porn star proportions. She bought a firm pair of high C’s, the same I sported twice with the pregnancies, before they reverted back to their default consistency of loose tapioca spooned into Baggies. But I loved her too in that moment. Beth was an unhappy woman, completely and utterly by choice, I thought.
“Hi, Peach,” Beth said, straightening herself up and looking right at me. In her tone I could tell we had a long talk ahead of us.
“Hello, Miss Archer. Looking well,” I said, smiling and hugging her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Laliberté. As are you.”
“Tell me, Miss Archer, what brings you here on a Thursday may I ask?”
“Interesting question, Mrs. Laliberté. First of all, we’re not in production for six weeks, and since I own the show, I can do what I want, pretty much when I want. It’s called the perks.”
“How marvelous for you.”
“Yes, it is marvelous. Also,” she added, knowing her cover was blown, “on the morrow’s morn we are departing this little hellhole called home, because Jeb and Nadia are hosting a dinner party in your honor tomorrow night in Brooklyn, and
we
have fancy reservations on Saturday night. More on that later. And on Sunday, breakfast at Tartine before I take you to the airport.”
“Hmm … interesting. Are those places nearby? Because, you see, I have two young sons who need minding,” I said, smiling over to the boys to cue their surprise reactions.
“Why no, they are not nearby. They are located in the city of New York, on the island of Manhattan. Come on down, Peachy Laliberté, you’re the next contestant on
You’re Coming to New York With Your Sister Tomorrow
!”
On cue, the boys knocked out their strangely aggressive little jazz numbers.
“So? Whaddya think, Peach? I know you’ve never flown and you don’t want to leave the boys, but—”
“Beth. Really. I can’t wait,” I said, pointing to my already-packed carry-all behind the front door.
“Beau, you have a big mouth,” Beth said, tiptoeing into the kitchen where he was digging out beers from the bottom of the fridge. She slapped his ass hard with an open palm. Then she began to dig down the back of his jeans to tug up his underwear, which made the boys giggle with delight. Beau squirmed away from her in discomfort.
“Ow.
Hey
, I didn’t say anything. Peachy’s the snoop.”
He knew I could get touchy about any intimacy between them. So did Beth, which is why she would launch these little attacks in the first place. It was her way of reasserting that his body wasterritory she had originally conquered, then discarded. She got there first, not me. And though I couldn’t imagine Beth wanting Beau again, he was, indeed, an average male starved for affection and attention, more so now since worrying about Sam’s illness had long supplanted sex as the number one thing I liked to do with my husband in bed.
As though to cut the tension caused by Beth’s teasing, the boys began their customary show-and-tell. Sam displayed several cool rocks he found by the river, one by one, on Nana Beecher’s oak table. And Jake talked through a hand puppet into Beth’s muscled shoulder, saying, “I’m
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