she’d felt ill last night, hoped it would fade by this morning, but woken just as bad. Of course she would come in anyway, knowing how much Susan had to do, but the last thing she wanted was for Emma to catch anything from her.
“Sure, sure,” said Susan, only half listening to Marni’s elaborate apologies. “All right, then. Feel better.”
She hung up, took a deep breath, and called out, “Guess what, Emma? Looks like it’s an all-day mama day!”
“Really? Yay!”
Emma bounced up the stairs to her bedroom to get dressedwhile Susan chastised herself for feeling irritated. After all, it’d been ages since she’d spent a whole day with her spirited, funny little daughter, just the two of them.
Come on
, she told herself, turning her back on her studio and heading up the stairs.
We’ll have a blast
.
While Emma rifled through her drawers, loudly considering different possible outfits, Susan waited on the landing between the bedrooms and examined the floorboards.
The gap, that little crack … was it widening? She hadn’t measured, of course, and it was still an infinitesimal separation, but she felt sure it was slightly bigger. The wood was groaning, separating, or whatever it was that wood did.
I’ll get Louis back up here
, Susan thought.
Maybe he can take care of it
.
*
According to 1010 WINS, the morning would be rain streaked but the afternoon clear, so Susan decided she and Emma would start their day at the small branch library in Cadman Plaza before lunch and then head to Pierrepont Playground after nap. On the way to the library, Susan left a message for Alex, letting him know that Marni had bailed, so if there was any way he could get home earlier than usual, she’d appreciate the relief. An hour passed, and then two, as Susan and Emma read picture books and put Dora the Explorer through her paces on the ancient desktop computer in the children’s section. Susan became more and more irritated with Alex’s failure to return her call—she knew he was busy, trying to repair the damage done by the lighting assistant and salvage the crucial Cartier shoot. But he could at least check in, to acknowledge the change in schedule. The morning slipped by, they went home for lunch, and still Alexdidn’t call.
He must be really busy
, Susan told herself.
He must be slammed
.
“Mama? You OK, Mama?”
“Yes, love. Eat your sandwich.”
While Emma napped, Susan ate her own lunch, a bagel with cream cheese from a place on Montague Street, and flipped aimlessly through the paper. There was an article in the New York section about a co-op board on the Upper West Side dealing with a bedbug infestation: a couple was protesting an edict they’d received to either undergo a costly extermination or move. Susan skimmed the article before flipping to the crossword. When she went to the junk drawer for a pen, she found the photograph of Jessie Spender and her boyfriend Jack.
Such a shame
, she thought, turning the picture over in her hands in the light of the kitchen window.
They look so happy
.
After nap, at the playground, they ran into Shawn, the sweet-faced kid with the cornrows whom Emma had played tag with on the Promenade, the morning they first came to look at the apartment. While the children played an elaborate game of Cinderella, in which they took turns in the roles of prince, princess, fairy godmother, and coach-bearing horse, Susan chatted with the boy’s mother, Vanessa.
“Oh, hey, have you got Shawn in a preschool?”
“Three days a week. If you need any information on what’s around, just ask. I did so much research it’s ridiculous. I’m way anal about that stuff.”
Susan grinned—Vanessa sounded like a woman after her own heart. “I will
totally
take you up on that,” she said. The woman agreed to arrange a play-date-slash-information-session sometime soon, and they swapped numbers.
Soon after Vanessa and Shawn’s departure, Susan and Emma’s pleasant afternoon was marred by
“Sure, sure,” said Susan, only half listening to Marni’s elaborate apologies. “All right, then. Feel better.”
She hung up, took a deep breath, and called out, “Guess what, Emma? Looks like it’s an all-day mama day!”
“Really? Yay!”
Emma bounced up the stairs to her bedroom to get dressedwhile Susan chastised herself for feeling irritated. After all, it’d been ages since she’d spent a whole day with her spirited, funny little daughter, just the two of them.
Come on
, she told herself, turning her back on her studio and heading up the stairs.
We’ll have a blast
.
While Emma rifled through her drawers, loudly considering different possible outfits, Susan waited on the landing between the bedrooms and examined the floorboards.
The gap, that little crack … was it widening? She hadn’t measured, of course, and it was still an infinitesimal separation, but she felt sure it was slightly bigger. The wood was groaning, separating, or whatever it was that wood did.
I’ll get Louis back up here
, Susan thought.
Maybe he can take care of it
.
*
According to 1010 WINS, the morning would be rain streaked but the afternoon clear, so Susan decided she and Emma would start their day at the small branch library in Cadman Plaza before lunch and then head to Pierrepont Playground after nap. On the way to the library, Susan left a message for Alex, letting him know that Marni had bailed, so if there was any way he could get home earlier than usual, she’d appreciate the relief. An hour passed, and then two, as Susan and Emma read picture books and put Dora the Explorer through her paces on the ancient desktop computer in the children’s section. Susan became more and more irritated with Alex’s failure to return her call—she knew he was busy, trying to repair the damage done by the lighting assistant and salvage the crucial Cartier shoot. But he could at least check in, to acknowledge the change in schedule. The morning slipped by, they went home for lunch, and still Alexdidn’t call.
He must be really busy
, Susan told herself.
He must be slammed
.
“Mama? You OK, Mama?”
“Yes, love. Eat your sandwich.”
While Emma napped, Susan ate her own lunch, a bagel with cream cheese from a place on Montague Street, and flipped aimlessly through the paper. There was an article in the New York section about a co-op board on the Upper West Side dealing with a bedbug infestation: a couple was protesting an edict they’d received to either undergo a costly extermination or move. Susan skimmed the article before flipping to the crossword. When she went to the junk drawer for a pen, she found the photograph of Jessie Spender and her boyfriend Jack.
Such a shame
, she thought, turning the picture over in her hands in the light of the kitchen window.
They look so happy
.
After nap, at the playground, they ran into Shawn, the sweet-faced kid with the cornrows whom Emma had played tag with on the Promenade, the morning they first came to look at the apartment. While the children played an elaborate game of Cinderella, in which they took turns in the roles of prince, princess, fairy godmother, and coach-bearing horse, Susan chatted with the boy’s mother, Vanessa.
“Oh, hey, have you got Shawn in a preschool?”
“Three days a week. If you need any information on what’s around, just ask. I did so much research it’s ridiculous. I’m way anal about that stuff.”
Susan grinned—Vanessa sounded like a woman after her own heart. “I will
totally
take you up on that,” she said. The woman agreed to arrange a play-date-slash-information-session sometime soon, and they swapped numbers.
Soon after Vanessa and Shawn’s departure, Susan and Emma’s pleasant afternoon was marred by
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