Chapter 5 #2
She was almost right. Hamilton’s median household income was $138,000 per year, and it was home to rolling acreage, an equestrian sensibility, a thriving public school system.
But Hamilton was also home to the Acord Food Pantry, a thirty-year-old space where locals had been quietly dropping off and picking up things that they needed.
There was, Anna knew, an Affordable Housing Trust, run by the town, and, three years earlier, the town had even passed a plan to build more affordable housing for its own residents.
Meaning: There was a need. Meaning: Not every single person in this largely white, largely wealthy New England town was doing okay, or better than okay.
There were, Anna knew, plenty of parents who kept their struggles close to the vest.
“Not everyone, Mimi,” Anna said. “There are families even here who have a hard time. I know that’s hard to believe.”
“The PTO is always happy to support anyone who needs a little extra help,” Mimi said.
It was flat, the way she said that. She unclasped her hands and smiled that toothy smile again.
Anna could tell that the conversation had reached its natural conclusion.
Mimi could not be moved. Pay the money, get the key to the city.
Otherwise, admit to the PTO that you were a have-not.
These, according to Mimi Mar, were your options. She would not hear of any alternative.
“But then parents would have to come to the PTO and let them know that they needed the money,” Anna said. “Wouldn’t it just make more sense to charge for other things, instead of access to a dance?”
“But we’re raising money for the kids. We’re doing this for our kids! For your kids! There’s no harm in that. Anyway, if a family is struggling a little bit, that’s hardly anything to be embarrassed about,” Mimi said.
So said Mimi Mar, who had clearly never had to ask for money to assist in her own survival.
Anna could not imagine an embarrassed version of Mimi, a version of a story where this woman before her—so calm, so well-kempt—had to slither before the Hamilton PTO in search of charity for her children.
A ticket for a dance. Assistance in access to the thing that tax dollars are supposed to secure, even in a wealthy town, or especially in a wealthy town.
“Maybe people who have to ask for help see it differently,” Anna said.
“Well, I just think that the PTO is always happy to assist in our community, and it’s sort of outrageous to say that we wouldn’t all be on the same team,” Mimi said. “Right, Anna? We’re all on the same team here!”
“I’m just saying . . .” Anna started, but she could already see that a dullness had come over Mimi’s eyes.
They had reached an impasse. If Anna had hoped to move the needle, that hope had now been abandoned.
Mimi Mar was resolute: The PTO was benevolent.
The PTO was grand in its ambition. The PTO was Saving the Children, and Anna Plummer could get right out of Hamilton with her accusations.
“You are saying what exactly?” Mimi asked.
“It’s classist. That’s what I’m saying. Kids who have no money are at a disadvantage.
I’m sorry to have to be so blunt, but that’s the truth.
Hamilton is wealthy, but not every single person lives .
. .”—Anna spread her hands out to indicate the room, the women, the very town of Hamilton—“. . . like this.”
Mimi smiled a frozen smile. “You know, Anna, I don’t appreciate the implication.
That we’re—what was the word you used?—classist. Kind of ridiculous, actually.
Of course we want everyone to succeed.” She paused for a minute, appearing to consider her next words.
“You know, I’d really watch what you say to me, Anna.
Classist. That’s almost, like, a threat, right? ”
“I’d hardly call it that, Mimi.”
“I guess it just depends on how you take it, then.”
“I think we can both agree that we just want some people to succeed a little more than others, right?” Anna said, smiling.
“I don’t think we can agree on that, actually. But in any case. I have an afternoon meeting,” Mimi said. “So, I do have to get going. I hope we’ve cleared things up here?”
“I’m just wondering,” Anna said. “What if we haven’t? Cleared things up?”
It was the first time Anna had seen a change in Mimi.
That porcelain face—for just a second—twisted into a contortion.
Had Anna imagined it? But just like that, it was back to normal, like a doll you see in a horror movie.
Blink once, imagine its disfiguration; blink again, it’s as if it never happened.
Mimi pursed her lips, which made her cheeks tuck in just a little.
She had a dimple on one side, Anna now noticed.
People probably thought that was cute and endearing.
“It’s best if we have. Cleared things up,” she said.
There was no room for ambiguity. “And I think we have!” At that, it was as if a switch had flipped.
She clapped both hands together and stood up with a little hop, allowing the chair to jump back against the wall of the bakery, and Anna could see that Mimi’s boots (also Gucci!) had a heel to them—they were designed for neither snow nor rain. “I’m so, so glad we did this!”
“Right,” Anna said. “Me, too.”
“I have to run, but you know where to reach me,” Mimi said, collecting her phone and her purse.
“And I hope you’ll consider, you know, the membership.
” At that, she took a step forward and leaned in and did the thing that wealthy white women in New England towns did, grabbing Anna by the shoulders and pulling her into a half-hug and barely brushing her cheek with the kind of kiss that you offer someone that you don’t know very well and don’t care to know much better.
Anna’s body was stiff. She didn’t yield to the embrace.
Mimi squeezed Anna tight. Surprisingly tight.
She’s got a bodybuilder’s grip, Anna thought to herself.
She could wrestle a tiger to the ground.
Then stopped herself from laughing at the thought.
“So good to see you, though, Anna,” Mimi said, and Anna could tell that she almost meant it, that most people would have been fooled.
“We’ll have to do this again sometime.” She pulled the big black Gucci glasses down over those fluttering eyelashes and then she was gone, leaving Anna Plummer with the crumbs of the croissant and a baguette to bring home, one loaf of bread that she would contemplate tearing into in the car.