The Green Lace Corset, стр. 77
Anne called her landlady because she still hadn’t responded to the text.
After the fifth ring, she answered.
“When are you coming up?” Anne asked.
“Sorry, no can do.”
“What do you mean?” Anne tried hard not to scream. “Are you sick?”
“No, no. Ray Ray has whisked me off to Napa. We’re staying at Calistoga Spa Hot Springs.”
Anne pictured the former gallery owner and Mrs. Landenheim wallowing in the mud baths, and it wasn’t pretty.
“Please feed the cats.”
Crying, Anne hung up. When Mrs. Landenheim had offered to provide childcare, Anne had thought she would be more dependable. At least Dottie would be here soon.
Anne breathed in and out and gazed at her Southwest cloud collage. “Serenity now!” she called.
She couldn’t get Sylvie to stop crying, no matter what she did. “Alexa, play ‘’O sole mio,’” she commanded, as she put Sylvie back in the bassinet and let her cry.
Anne wrote with a Sharpie on three stickies—I am independent; I am calm; I am happy—and stuck them on her bathroom mirror.
Anne’s phone chimed with a text from Dottie: Call me.
Speak of the devil. As soon as Sylvie fell asleep, Anne tiptoed into the bathroom, closed the door, and called her friend.
“How’s it going?” Dottie asked.
“It’ll be fine as soon as you’re here. I can’t wait for you to see the baby. What time do you get in?”
“About that. I can’t come just yet.”
“What? Why not?” Anne held back the panic rising from her stomach to her throat.
“I’ve been invited on a ski trip.”
“But you don’t even ski.”
“I’ve always wanted to learn.” Dottie whined, “How could I say no?”
“You could say no because your dear friend needs you.”
“It’s Switzerland. You know I’ve dreamed of going to Europe. You should be happy for me to have the opportunity for a free vacation.”
Happy for you. Girl! Right after I slap you! Anne felt as if she’d taken a bullet to the chest as she remembered that Sergio was also going to St. Moritz. Was that too much of a coincidence?
“Who are you going with?”
“Some guy I saw at a gallery event.”
Anne waited. “What’s his name?”
“You don’t know him. I’ll come visit another time.”
Anne tried to keep the rage out of her voice. “The ticket is nontransferable.”
“I’ll pay you back. I’m not sure when. I need to make some money first.”
“I thought your art was selling well.” After all, Dottie had made $10,000 at her solo show a few years back.
“Sure, but I’ve decided to go in a different direction. I’m thinking of hosting a podcast where people send me a topic and I talk about it for twelve minutes off the top of my head, without doing any research, and then I research and talk for another twelve minutes. Don’t you think it’s a fantastic idea?”
No. “Sure. Sounds lucrative.” Anne nodded.
“I also might go back to school to get a certificate in museum studies to learn how to become a curator. I’d be good at telling people where to put their artwork. Don’t you think?”
Yes, if you planned to hang everything upside down.
Sylvie wailed.
“Bye,” Anne blubbered, and hung up.
She wanted to call her mom, who’d tried to warn her about Dottie, but Anne hadn’t listened. At least her mother wasn’t the type to ever say “I told you so.”
Anne picked up Sylvie and sat in the rocker. If she was going to be independent, she’d better start now. She loaded Sylvie in the front pack, put on a giant down coat, zipped it up to the baby’s head, and placed the pink cap on her. Anne ran down the stairs, fed the cats without even saying hello, and dashed across the street to the grocery. Filling the cart, she bounced Sylvie until she quieted. Back at her apartment, Anne seized an armload of dirty clothes, ran back down the stairs, and tossed them into the cart. Back upstairs, she drank a glass of water and repeated up and down two times more with dirty clothes, her coin jar, and laundry detergent.
Amid all the motion, Sylvie had fallen asleep in the front pack. From all of this running around, Anne would lose her baby weight soon. She started pushing the cart up California Street toward the Laundromat and ran into Mata. She hadn’t seen her for months.
“Missy! Has it really come to this? You’re homeless now too?”
Anne burst into tears. “I can’t keep up with it all!”
“Now, now. It’ll be okay. What’s this?” Mata asked, pointing to the bulge under Anne’s coat.
Anne unzipped it and turned the baby’s little head to the side.
Mata’s eyes grew wide. “What a living doll!”
Sylvie shrieked.
“Better call in the reinforcements.”
Anne jiggled Sylvie up and down. “I’m trying to be independent.”
“It’s time to ask for help. Don’t you have that one friend you can always count on?”
Anne dried her eyes and pushed the cart up the rest of the way to the empty Laundromat. She filled all the washers, added coins, and turned on the machines. Sylvie started crying again. Arms tired, Anne let the baby hang in the front pack, hopping up and down until Sylvie quieted.
Sergio called on FaceTime. She considered not picking up, and besides, the washers and dryers were noisy. But she decided she needed to confront him about Dottie.
“Ciao, bella.”
“Ciao.” Anne moved the phone so he could see Sylvie.
“She’s growing fast.”
“She’ll be playing basketball before we know it.” Anne paused. “When’re you going to St. Moritz?”
“St. Moritz? What do you mean?”
“Your ski trip.”
“I decided to come out and see you and Sylvie instead.”
“So, you’re not with Dottie?”
“Dottie? What are you talking about? Of course not.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
“I’m going to search for a condo to buy so I can stay in it when I come to visit.”
Did that mean he’d be out here all the time? Anne had mixed feelings about that. “With all the techies, that would be so expensive.”
“Staying in a hotel all the time would be expensive also.”
She finished the laundry and returned home with