Beach Lane

  “I’ll speak to her any way I want,” Jim spat, hulking up. This little fancy pants prep school kid had nothing on him.

  “And Mara, you can forget about the discount on that Camry at my uncle’s dealership.” With those fighting words, Jim took off through the woods.

  It was so absurd Ryan actually began to laugh.

  “A Camry?” he asked.

  “It’s not funny,” Mara said miserably. “I was counting on that car. It was the only one I could afford to buy and still have money left over for college.”

  “God, I’m sorry,” Ryan said, sobering up.

  Mara frowned, but after a minute she, too, began to laugh. There they were, standing naked in the Perrys’ front yard. “It is kind of funny.”

  They walked back toward the house, collecting their clothes along the way.

  * * *

  A few hours later Jacqui walked out of the au pairs’ cottage and found the two of them huddled in Ryan’s oversized sweatshirts, sharing a cigarette and watching the sun rise.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Jacqui explained.

  “Glad you made it to the party,” Ryan joked.

  “Jacqui—are you okay?” Mara asked.

  No, she was really so far from okay, it was laughable. The guy she had loved was a two-timing loser with serious identity issues. And the guy she had replaced him with was an even bigger loser who was more Li’l Romeo than DMX. Jacqui felt empty and used and completely burned out.

  “I’ll be okay,” she said, hugging herself and shivering.

  Mara didn’t press for any answers. She knew Jacqui would tell her more when the time was right.

  “You want a cig?” Mara asked, offering the only solace she knew Jacqui might accept just then.

  “I thought you didn’t smoke,” Jacqui said, taking a seat on the grass next to them.

  Mara shrugged. “I thought I didn’t do a lot of things.”

  vacation is never long enough, is it?

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING THE PERRY KIDS RAN SCRAMBLING into the au pairs’ room. They galloped up the rickety stairs, completely ruining the girls’ plans to sleep in. Remnants of the party the night before were in evidence in their little domicile. Jeremy had left his coat under Eliza’s bed. Ryan’s sweatshirt was draped over the armchair. Several dirty cocktail glasses were breeding fungus in the bathroom.

  “We’re back! We’re back!” Madison yelled, jumping up and down on Eliza’s bed. “Did you guys miss us?”

  “Wanna go swimming!” Zoë said.

  Eliza groaned. “Is it Sunday already?”

  Mara couldn’t even raise her head from her pillow. “William, stop pulling my hair, please!”

  “Oh my God, I am SO hung over,” Eliza complained.

  “Me too,” Mara said, clutching her stomach. She scanned the room. “Where’s Jacqui?”

  Eliza gave Mara a blank look. Jacqui? Hello, where had Mara been all summer? Jacqui was never around. She was their phantom roommate.

  “She was here last night,” Mara explained. “I can’t believe she bailed! It’s her turn to take the kids somewhere. Ugh.”

  “Well, I haven’t seen her.” Eliza shrugged, trying to hide underneath the covers.

  “Seriously, there is no way I can go to the beach today,” Mara yelled over the clamor as William and Madison fought over who got to sit on the armchair.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Eliza said.

  * * *

  They drove into one of the few movie theaters in town. Unlike the sprawling suburban megaplexes in Sturbridge or the high-tech high-rises in Manhattan, where a movie ticket cost upward of ten dollars, the East Hampton theater was a small, brown-shingled building that showed obscure foreign films, art house indies, and, luckily for them, a Disney animated feature that afternoon.

  “I wanna see Alien versus Predator!” William demanded.

  “Sucks to be you; it’s not showing.” Eliza yawned.

  They ushered the kids into the theater. Eliza was thankful for the air-conditioning and the darkness. She was planning to catch up on her sleep through the entire thing in an attempt to exorcise the events of the night before from her memory. After she had left the screening room in disgrace, she had tried to look for Jeremy, but all she found were assorted half-naked people passed out on the porch.

  He had to understand—she’d been put on the spot—in front of people she had known her whole life. It wasn’t anything to do with him, really. God, it was all such a mess. She gnawed her cuticles anxiously.

  Mara walked in with Madison, carrying a huge bucket of popcorn and a Coke.

  Eliza stuffed a handful into her mouth and instantly spit it out. “What? No butter?”

  “That motor oil they pass off for butter has more calories than a porterhouse steak!” Mara reminded her, nodding toward Madison.

  Eliza knew that. But everyone knew popcorn wasn’t really a food. And it tasted like sand without butter. “I’m getting butter on this and salt,” Eliza said, grabbing the carton.

  “Hey, get your own!” Mara said, nodding even less subtly at Madison.

  “Why don’t we just ask her what she wants?” Eliza said. “Do you want butter?”

  Madison looked at the two au pairs. She really wanted butter, but Mara was giving her such an encouraging look, she didn’t know what she wanted. It was Mara who had fixed the hair on her Barbies the other day, combing them until they weren’t tangled up anymore. She didn’t want to disappoint her.

  “No,” she replied, almost like a question.

  “Good girl, Mad.” Mara nodded. “Why don’t you buy your own bag?” she asked Eliza in a conciliatory tone.

  “Forget it.” Eliza frowned. She had already spent all her money and didn’t have a penny to her name till the next pay period.

  The lights dimmed, and the strains of the Walt Disney theme built to a crescendo.

  * * *

  While the kids were occupied with the movie, Eliza told Mara what had happened with Jeremy and her friends. “I swear, I totally didn’t mean for that to happen! I was just so shocked, you know?” Eliza said, wanting to be consoled so badly. “He means more to me than any of them put together.”

  Mara nodded. That was a pretty wretched picture Eliza had painted, but Mara could see it was tearing Eliza up. “I’m sure he’ll understand. You’re only human.”

  In hushed tones she then told Eliza about the scene with Jim and Ryan, complete with a strip poker play-by-play.

  “Jeez, what a jerk. I don’t even know why you stayed with that white trash Jim for so long,” Eliza said.

  Mara was taken aback. That was pretty harsh. Granted, she wanted sympathy, but calling her boyfriend white trash was stepping over the line. Sure, Jim wasn’t some heir to a brand-name fortune and he didn’t drive a fancy car, and fine, he couldn’t pronounce Quogue if his life depended on it, but he wasn’t that bad. A little dim, maybe, a little overprotective, yes. And very bad tempered when he was provoked. But white trash? Combined with Eliza’s callous comments the other night about Jeremy not “fitting in” with “this world,” Mara felt extremely insulted.

  “You really are a piece of work,” Mara said, glaring at Eliza.

  “Huh?”

  “You know, I felt really bad about what happened with you and Jeremy, but now I think maybe you just got what you deserved.”

  “Wait a minute . . .”

  “Here’s a piece of advice, Liza: maybe you should think about what you’re saying before you open your mouth,” Mara hissed, grabbing her bags.

  “Why? What the hell?” Eliza asked, mystified. It wasn’t like she had the best night either. C’mon, all her friends thought she was white trash now.

  “Because you know what’s really low class?” Mara asked, her color high and her voice defiant. “A total SNOB like you!”

  And with that, Mara left all four sugar-crazed kids for Eliza to deal with on her own.

  * * *

  Mara returned to the estate in time to see
Jacqui saunter through the front door.

  “Where have you been all morning?” Mara demanded.

  “I was signing up the kids for the regatta competition down in Shelter Island. I thought they might enjoy it, and it’s the last day,” Jacqui explained.

  Oh. She was actually doing something nice and responsible for the kids for a change. But instead of putting Mara in a good mood, it just made Mara feel worse for neglecting the kids every so often in order to make googly eyes at their older brother.

  “Well, you could have told us,” she snapped.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Jacqui asked, a little hurt that Mara hadn’t even thanked her for the idea.

  “Nothing. Nothing. Just—can you just leave me alone?” Mara said.

  “Gladly,” Jacqui said.

  everything is getting progressively worse

  FOR THE FIRST TIME THE ENTIRE SUMMER, BOTH ANNA and Kevin actually showed up for the weekly progress report in the screening room. Anna was in a good mood. Her co-chairwomanship of Super Saturday was almost locked. She had found a designer with a massive amount of overstock who wanted to sell it all in a prime booth, and it was just a matter of time before the committee anointed her with the title.

  Mara and Eliza stumbled in late (projectile poo from the baby while getting his diaper changed had delayed their arrival) and were surprised and not too pleased that Jacqui of all people was sitting there, conversing pleasantly with their bosses as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  They took their usual seats, perplexed at the turn of events.

  “So, anyway, as I was saying, I just want to know how Zoë is keeping up with her reading. Has she moved on to the new Art Spiegelman?”

  “Uh, I’m not quite sure, Anna,” Eliza said brightly. “In fact, you should ask Jacqui since she’s been reading to her all summer.”

  “Yes, she’s completely engrossed in a book, I think it’s called Where in the World Is Carmen SanDiego?” Mara interrupted.

  Jacqui kicked Mara under the table.

  Anna beamed. “And Cody?”

  “Oh, we’ve almost cured him of the whole running-around-naked thing. We’re really setting a fine example that clothes are very, very important to one’s social development,” Eliza said, glaring at Mara.

  Kevin yawned. He was still picturing Jacqui naked below the decks on his Catalina.

  “As for Madison, she’s learning the value of telling the truth. Especially to her friends,” Mara said, returning Eliza’s icy stare.

  “And William? Is he taking his meds?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” all three au pairs chorused. His doctor had put William on Adderall in addition to the Ritalin and the Metadate that he was already taking, so that was true enough. Not that it had done anything to change the kid’s personality. He was still a hyperactive little monster.

  “Marvelous!” Anna shone. “Oh, Kevin, aren’t these girls perfect? They’re nothing like those other ones you hired. I’m so glad.”

  The au pairs’ ears pricked up. They never did find out what happened to the “A Team,” as they had dubbed the first set of au pairs, and they were slightly worried they would be given the boot as well. Who knew what those girls did wrong? It wasn’t as if Mara, Eliza, and Jacqui were doing anything right. Except Anna and Kevin were so clueless or indifferent, it really didn’t matter.

  Kevin handed out the fat cash-filled envelopes. “Thanks, ladies. Keep up the good work.”

  He led Anna out of the den.

  “Oh, darling, I forgot to tell you,” Anna said as they walked away. “The landscaper—or the gardener—he quit today. You’re going to have to find someone else in town who can take care of the azaleas. Such a shame.”

  Eliza tried to catch Mara’s eye. But Mara turned away.

  As the girls pocketed their cash, each of them took mental bets on who wasn’t going to make it to their final payday.

  Mara: 5–1 it’s Eliza. The girl was a complete flake. Plus she didn’t have anything to stay for now that all her friends had abandoned her.

  Eliza: 3–1 on Mara. She liked the odds on the small-town girl feeling homesick and quitting life in the fast lane.

  Jacqui: 2–1 on herself. She wasn’t sure she could take this any longer. She certainly wasn’t having the summer of her life that the job ad had promised. So much for truth in advertising.

  that money is burning a hole in eliza’s stella bag

  THE NEXT DAY ELIZA FOUND HERSELF IN FRONT OF THE counter at Cartier. Even after everything that had happened, she felt like herself again inside its gilt doors. Now, this was living. She pondered the classics: interlocking trinity rings, sparkling diamond solitaires with the C emblem, the latest from the “nouvelle vague” collection of sturdy, minimalist gold cube rings that Hamptons housewives were collecting as casually as multistriped sailor shirts from LL. Bean.

  “That one,” she said, pointing to an eighteen-karat-gold Panthère watch set with diamonds.

  The salesgirl put the watch on Eliza’s tiny wrist. “It’s a beauty.”

  Eliza held it up to the light, admiring how it glinted and shone. “I’ll take it,” she said. “And no need to wrap it up; I’ll just wear it out.”

  The watch cost significantly more than the amount in the envelope, but Eliza asked the girl to put the rest on her well-worn Visa.

  She deserved this watch! After everything she had to put up with. Maybe if she looked at it long enough, she would forget Jeremy’s disgusted expression, her friends’ scornful laughter, and the fact that she had to return to Buffalo at the end of the summer.

  Eliza left the store and spotted Mara across the street, headed to a branch of the North Fork bank. She ducked down before Mara could see her. She didn’t feel like showing Mara the watch or speaking to her just yet.

  someday mara will have saved enough to buy her own country

  MARA LEFT THE TELLER WINDOW. SHE HAD APPROXIMATELY $6,300 in the bank! She would have had $6,666 if she hadn’t spent so much money on a dress and flip-flops on that fateful shopping trip. Maybe she could still buy that Camry if Jim found it in his heart to forgive her. After all, it wasn’t as if she and Ryan had made out or anything, she thought, with more than a little sense of regret.

  She tucked her deposit ticket into her wallet and walked out the door. She saw Eliza across the street leaving Cartier with a small red shopping bag. Eliza was pretending not to see her. Just like on the first day when they had sat on opposite sides of the bench.

  Mara started toward the Pilates studio to pick up the little girls.

  jacqui just might win her own bet

  JACQUI STOOD AT THE TRAVEL AGENCY COUNTER, BITING her lip. She had just enough to take her back to São Paolo. It was so tempting. What was she doing staying in town? She could be back on a real beach in sixteen hours.

  She looked across the desk to the flight schedules on the computer screen. See, there was one leaving that evening from JFK.

  But maybe running away wasn’t the answer? It was such a waste of money. There were only a few weeks left. Her grandmother would be surprised to see her back so early. There would be too much explaining to do, and Jacqui didn’t think her avó would approve when she confessed that she had spent her summer in the States just to be with a boy. Her grandmother had only allowed her to come to America because Jacqui had told her she had been chosen to participate in an “educational experience.” How prophetic.

  After a month in the Hamptons, Jacqui had learned that thongs were not allowed on the beaches, that her breasts were not considered real, and that the best way to crash a party was to pretend you already belonged.

  “Should I make the reservation?” The clerk sat back down at her desk.

  “Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind,” Jacqui said.

  Besides, she had promised Zoë she would teach her to read that book she had brought from home, with all the pretty pictures.

  So she left the travel agency, her envelope of cash safely tucked
inside her purse.

  super saturday is turning out to be not so super after all

  ON THE LAST SATURDAY OF AUGUST, THE ONLY GAME in town was a day-long shopping extravaganza to benefit ovarian cancer. Former luminaries who have cohosted the event include the late Princess Diana (who simply loved the discount de la Rentas), Donna Karan (who turned it into a themed carnival complete with rides), and, of course, the late and great founding chairwoman, Harper’s Bazaar’s Liz Tilberis. It’s a madhouse of billowing white tents, and designers from Calvin Klein, Jill Stuart, Kate Spade, Michael Kors and many more sell samples and overstock and leftovers for a fraction of the price.

  Anna, who had been passed up for hosting duties at the last minute in favor of a more well-financed socialite, nevertheless courageously soldiered on to sponsor the booth for Edgardo DeMenil, a new up-and-coming designer who had debuted last fall with a collection of studded leather ponchos. Unfortunately, the world was not ready for studded leather ponchos, and the designer was trying to unload all the merchandise at Super Saturday. Anna was trying to talk up the “couture” items with her friends, all of whom were understandably taking a pass.

  “Mara, can you take the kids to the petting zoo? They’re scaring away the clients!” Anna asked in a frantic tone.

  “Eliza, will you do it? You forgot to pack Cody’s stroller and now I have to hold him all afternoon,” Mara said accusingly, although the truth was that there was something calming about having the baby rest on her hip.

  Eliza, whose attention was distracted by all the incredible designer discounts, wandered over at the sound of her name. A pair of Yanuk jeans for $50! A Calvin Klein silk jersey dress for $120! If only she hadn’t bought that Cartier watch! She felt poor and irritable and was looking at six straight hours of misery. Nothing’s worse than coming to a sale with an empty pocketbook.

  “So what? I took him yesterday. He puked all over my Foley and Corrina top,” she said, annoyed. “Where’s Jacqui?”