Riveting stuff.
“I’m serious,” Nick says again. “Not even my mom knows at this point.”
At this, Alice rolls her eyes.
Nothing happens in Alma without Tish Dewar’s knowledge.
Interview with Mandy Edwards
Not a member of the Alma Social Club (by choice)
You probably already know that Gina is the ASC secretary. That stands for Alma Social Club. Officially, it’s an organization that deals with community-related issues, which basically means everything that goes on in town—and I do mean everything. It also doubles as the Alma Chamber of Commerce, though no one really remembers that.
Unofficially, and you didn’t hear this from me, it’s a way to keep bored Alma housewives busy. You must’ve read that article, the one that describes Alma as “a town frozen in time.” Well, it’s true. And that makes it charming and picturesque, but it also makes it an illustration of the decay of feminism. Take one look at any of those ASC women and you’ll see what I’m talking about. They walk around in a hurry, as if they’re solving real-world problems, as if the moronic issues they occupy themselves with will actually have an impact on people’s lives. Ha! The ASC’s true purpose is to vilify women who have real careers, especially working moms. Other places have regular town meetings, held at night, so everyone can participate. The ASC meets at 10 a.m. on Thursdays. You tell me: how is a normal, productive, employed member of society supposed to make it to those meetings?
So, really, when the scandal first broke out, I wasn’t surprised that Gina took her husband’s word at face value. She has no sense of the sort of challenges women face in office environments. Less pay and more bullshit, that’s the reality. But Gina doesn’t have a clue. She’s never experienced the institutionalized misogyny that informs every aspect of corporate life. How could she? She’s never had a job.
Three
Malaika
Friday, September 6th
Malaika hears Alice’s voice in the distance.
“Allegra, I think your Mommy wants to see you,” Malaika says. Both Malaika and Allegra are in the sunroom, sitting on the floor, toys scattered around them.
Allegra nods quietly and continues to brush her doll’s yellow-white hair. She looks like a painting of an adorable angelic child: donned in a red dress, legs neatly folded in front of her, the sunlight beaming through the wall-to-wall windows.
“Should we go find Mommy?” Malaika starts to get up.
Allegra clutches Malaika’s hand and shakes her head.
Malaika sighs, unsurprised.
“All right,” Malaika says softly. Then, a little louder, “Over here, Mrs. Dewar.” Gently, she lets go of Allegra’s hand. At the au pair program’s orientation week in New York City, a few of the older girls had warned Malaika that employers often felt jealous of the connection made between au pairs and host children, but Alice barely seems to notice how attached Allegra has become to Malaika. Or to care.
This is less than ideal: when she decided to move to America, Malaika had purposefully chosen families with only one child, assuming that would leave her with more time to work on her designs, but, so far, the only clothes she’s made are for Allegra’s impressive doll collection.
She has yet to take a day off. Alice seems to expect Malaika to spend every minute of the day with her daughter. Malaika is unsure of how to fix this situation, but it does need to be fixed—she is in America to become a famous designer, not a professional nanny. Although, if she were to be interested in childcare as a career, she would’ve lucked out with a charge like Allegra. The child is bright, happy, and affectionate. Alice and Nick are very fortunate to have such a lovely daughter.
Alice walks into the sunroom, looking stylish in a pair of skinny electric-blue jeans and a lightweight plum tunic that’s lengthier in the back, giving it the feel of a cape. As always, her hair sits in a ballerina bun on the top of her head.
Malaika gets up from the floor and smiles at Alice. “Good morning, Mrs. Dewar.” It isn’t morning, hasn’t been morning for at least an hour, but Alice has been up in her room until now.
“Good morning,” Alice says with a smile. She kneels down and kisses the top of Allegra’s forehead. “How is my little buttercup today?” Alice singsongs.
Allegra doesn’t look up.
“Don’t you want to tell your Mommy about Lea’s plans for the day?” Malaika asks, lowering her body to the ground.
Allegra’s face lights up. “New York City for us kating.”
Alice frowns. “For what, buttercup?”
“Ice skating,” Malaika points to the ice-skating rink they’ve set out on the hardwood floor next to a miniature of the Statue of Liberty. Lea, Allegra’s favorite doll, is in for an adventure in the city. “And then we’re having a snowball fight.”
“With no snow?” Alice tilts her head to the side.
Allegra deflates.
“It’s snowing in New York,” Malaika offers, before Allegra bursts into tears. It doesn’t have to be September in their make-believe world.
“Of course,” Alice agrees, catching on. She taps her own head. “Silly Mommy!”
Allegra perks up again. “Us kating lots of fud!”
Alice stands up. Malaika does the same.
“Friday night dinner will have to be here tonight,” Alice says to Malaika. Her tone indicates that this is a huge inconvenience. “So it would be lovely if you could keep Allegra entertained before her bedtime? There’s a bit of a family crisis going on right now, we’ll need our privacy. And you know what they say about little pitchers and their big ears.”
Malaika has no idea what that means, but she nods as if she does.
“Thank you.” Alice smiles graciously. “Oh, and would you ask Yolanda to buy Bobby’s favorite whiskey? She’ll know the brand. Nick asked me to take care of it. God forbid Bobby doesn’t get what he wants.”
“Yes, Mrs. Dewar.”
Alice leans in. “If you ask me, tonight’s dinner should be canceled. There is such a thing as too much togetherness. Do you know what I mean?”
Malaika does not. She seldom does when it comes to Alice. But she has picked up on the fact that Alice isn’t a fan of Nick’s family, which seems particularly awful given they all live on the same street. It explains why Alice always looks so… sad. Malaika has even wondered if maybe there are postpartum depression issues at play. Not that it’s any of her business.
“Or Gina could host it,” Alice continues. “At least then I could sneak out early. Why should I suffer just because her husband decided to dip his pen in the company ink?” Alice shakes her head. “Sorry, that was crass. You’ve heard the rumors, I assume?”
“Yes, Mrs. Dewar.” Yolanda had filled her in this morning. If you ask me, Mr. Bobby didn’t do it. He’s a good man, she’d said. Malaika hadn’t bothered pointing out that there was no such thing. And he no can resign, Yolanda continued. Mr. Bobby wants to keep Alma Boots in America. If Mr. Nick in charge he will sell the company, send the factory overseas! Is very bad. No factory, no town. As simple as that.