Chapter Thirty-Three Piper
Chapter Thirty-Three
Piper
“I feel like I’m not contributing enough,” Kiersten said as she and Piper pulled her dining room table apart. Rosamund inserted the wooden leaf to expand it.
“You’re contributing your entire house,” Piper said. “Now push.”
“True.” She grunted as they pushed the table back together. “But I have the most kids.”
Piper had just returned from having coffee with Mike, her old boss.
She’d told him about the worms and given him the plastic bag containing the bloody notebook paper.
He told her they still hadn’t found Hawkeye Slaughter, and he’d found no arrest record for Bruce Orlov.
However, he had managed to confirm that Alex Orlov was asked to leave a private school last year, though the school declined to provide any details.
In light of all this, it had been a wonderful distraction to spend the remainder of the day at Kiersten’s house, helping to convert her dining room into a classroom.
The worm delivery had swept away all Piper’s reservations about the Experiment. She needed to keep her girls close to keep them safe.
“Can you help me move the sideboard?” Kiersten asked.
Kiersten had volunteered to sacrifice her formal dining room to the Experiment. The room had good light and a lovely wood-burning fireplace.
Her kitchen would turn into a cafeteria, her basement would serve as the art room and science lab, and her backyard would become a playground and gymnasium.
They’d just finished mounting a dry-erase board next to the china cabinet, which felt oddly momentous. Drilling holes in the wall meant they were committed, for better or for worse.
“Let’s go over the division of labor again,” Kiersten said.
“Okay.” Piper grabbed a notebook. “I’ve got math and science.”
“I have English, grammar, writing, and history,” Rosamund said.
“And I have home economics and life skills,” Kiersten said.
“I’ll teach them the Heimlich maneuver, CPR, and first aid and how to use the washing machine, load the dishwasher, and clean the bathroom.
And I’m the school nurse, the lunch lady, admin person, field trip coordinator, state-and-local-home-school-paperwork-filing person, and purchaser of supplies. And I’ll head up the Project.”
The Project was Garrett’s idea. Kiersten’s husband had been curious about their new neighborhood and suggested the kids interview the older residents on Beaverbrook to create a living history project.
“Do you want PayPal, Zelle, Venmo, cash, or check?” Rosamund asked.
“I’m retro,” Kiersten said. “I would like cash, please.”
As a final exercise before launching the Experiment, each family had tallied up the money they’d been spending on tutors, dance classes, costumes and uniforms, sports equipment, travel costs, and batting coaches.
They were stunned to learn that they’d save a significant amount of money by dropping out.
They decided to use some of this money for books and school supplies, lunches and snacks, and to pay for admission to museums and field trips.
Now the dining room table lay covered with textbooks purchased on , plus notebooks, pencils, art supplies, whiteboards, and dry-erase markers.
Piper used scissors to open a cardboard box and removed a grammar workbook and a biology textbook.
“What’s all this?” Rosamund pulled a pile of books from the middle of the table and began to read the titles aloud.
“Happy House Life: Ten Rules for a Happy Home and Fulfilling Marriage, The Happy House Life Schedule, The Happy House Life Workbook, The Happy House Life Cookbook, The Happy House Life Table of Sustenance?”
“Our neighbor wrote them,” Kiersten said.
“The Influencer?” Piper asked.
Kiersten nodded. “She’s been texting me book recommendations to get started. She has this whole Happy House Life system, and she promised to stop by and show me how to implement it.”
Piper rolled her eyes and paged through The Happy House Life: Ten Rules for a Happy Home and Fulfilling Marriage.
“When your husband arrives home after a long day at work, make him feel like the king of the castle. Greet him at the door with the beverage of his choice. Put on his favorite music and give him an hour or so to relax with his feet up in the family room while you finish making dinner.”
Piper frowned. “I’m not sure this would work. My husband likes Metallica.”
They crowded around her. “What else does it say?” Rosamund asked.
“Send your kids outside or to their rooms when your husband arrives home from work to create a buffer of peace as he manages his reentry from the combat of the workday to the tranquility of his home.”
“I think I need a wife,” Piper said wistfully. “I wish someone had given me that when I was working.”
“Oh dear.” Kiersten squinted down at the book, reading over Piper’s shoulder. “There’s a rule here about exercise. Rule number three. Keeping up appearances.”
“Try on your wedding dress on each anniversary,” Rosamund read aloud.
“If you can’t fit into it, consider this a warning sign and a wake-up call.
Exercise, nutrition, and a healthy diet are important not just for maintaining your body, but for maintaining your marriage.
Don’t let yourself go. If you lose interest in your body, your husband will too.
And he might find something more interesting at the office, in a bar, or on a business trip. ”
“It’s like paying someone to make you feel bad,” Rosamund said.
Kiersten frowned. “This sounds a lot like the advice Dickie gave Dottie back in 1965.”
“Don’t ‘let yourself go’?” Piper snorted indignantly. “Who in the world would pay money for this?”
Kiersten glanced at the front cover. “A lot of people, apparently. It’s a New York Times bestseller.”
“Let me see that.” Piper grabbed the book and paged through it. “Listen to this one. ‘Never argue with your husband unless it’s truly important. Let him believe that he guides you when it comes to masculine topics like politics and money.’”
Piper tossed the book onto the table. “This is such a steaming pile of—”
The doorbell rang, interrupting her words. She glanced out the window.
And there on Kiersten’s front porch, as though summoned by these disparaging words, stood the Influencer.