Chapter 35 205 PM Mia
In the parking lot of the Watchung Avenue train station, Mia stood with both of her hands wrapped around a plastic bag containing a fat goldfish.
Sasha had given it to her when she first arrived.
She’d said, “I’ll explain later, but can you just, like, hold on to this for a sec?
” and then went to the back of the Volvo, where for the last few minutes she had been struggling to remove a car seat.
There were two of them. Strapped into one was a baby with Theo’s lips and Sasha’s eyes; the other one was larger and empty, and unless Sasha could manage to get it into the trunk, Richie and Adam would have nowhere to sit.
The sky above the station was deep blue and dotted with clouds, and every so often a breeze tugged at leaves overhead.
Richie sucked on a vape pen. Sasha muttered something that Mia couldn’t hear and quickly brought her finger to her lips.
Adam tilted his head to the side, his brow furrowed. He said, “Can I help?”
“No, it’s fine—this dumb thing gets stuck.”
A few moments later there was a loud click.
“There,” Sasha said. She pulled the car seat through the door and maneuvered it into the trunk. Then she brushed her hands against each other, as if to say, Well, at least that part’s done.
“Sorry, I should have thought about that earlier.”
The inside of the car smelled of coffee and something sweet—bananas, Mia thought, that were a few days past ripe.
At her feet were a few balled-up tissues, a granola bar wrapper, Sasha’s purse, a copy of a Lauren Groff novel with a tear on its cover, a box of Band-Aids, and a stuffed blue dog with large felt eyes.
Behind her, Richie and Adam squished in next to the remaining car seat and one of them slammed the door.
In the plastic bag the fish swayed back and forth.
With two fingers Sasha pushed a button and the engine turned on. When she shifted to reverse, a screen on the dashboard showed the road behind them.
“Those things are, like, so helpful,” Mia said.
“What’s that?”
“Those screens that tell you if you’re about to run someone over. They’re so helpful. I don’t know how I ever drove without them.”
“That’s funny—I honestly never really look at it.” She gestured toward Mia’s feet. “You can kick all that stuff out of the way.”
“Oh! Don’t worry about it, you’re totally fine. Great book, by the way.”
They left the station and pulled out onto a large suburban street, passing a UPS Store, an Acme Market, and a small park.
The houses were all set back from the road.
Their lawns were raked of leaves, and in a few of the driveways were basketball hoops hanging from tall poles.
Pumpkins with faces carved into them looked out from a few front porches.
Mia crossed her feet at the ankles, her toes brushing against the blue bear.
She thought of the obsequious tone she had used a moment earlier—of how she’d essentially apologized for the clutter in the car on Sasha’s behalf, as if Sasha herself was embarrassed about it, even though she had given no indication that she was.
She wished she could rewind and take that moment back.
The fish sloshed back and forth in its bag, and she felt her heart beating faster.
Richie asked a question about median home value in the neighborhood; Sasha said a number that caused both Richie and Adam to remark on the extortionate price of their small apartments in the city, though Mia wasn’t paying enough attention to the conversation for the figures to register.
Glancing over, she watched as Sasha turned on the Volvo’s indicator to change lanes.
No, don’t worry about it, you’re totally fine.
Great book, by the way. What a dumb thing to say.
It had sounded like she was talking to a total stranger.
“How was the trip?” Sasha asked.
Mia said, “Super easy.”
Richie said, “We had to transfer to a bus at Newark. Did you know we would have to transfer to a bus at Newark?”
Sasha turned on the indicator again. They passed a sign for Inwood Avenue.
“I probably should have mentioned that there aren’t any direct trains on the weekend.” The Volvo slowed down in front of a long driveway. “Okay! Here we are.”
The house was white, with a gray shingled roof and blue shutters that had all been pulled back and open.
The driveway ran up the left side of it, and already there were cars parked alongside the curb.
Two Teslas, some Priuses, a silver Audi Quattro.
Sasha turned off the Volvo’s engine and Mia stepped out of the car, the fish in her left hand.
On the grass and walkway leading up to the front door, she saw a scarecrow, three bales of hay, and a handful of gourds in varying shapes and sizes.
Overhead a cloud shifted, and everything became four shades brighter. Mia raised a hand to shield her eyes.
“Oh, Adam,” she heard Sasha say. “You don’t have to do that.”
With his eyes narrowed in concentration, Adam was trying to free Sasha’s daughter from her car seat. As he struggled with one of the buckles, she grabbed hold of his right earlobe.
He said, “No, I want to. It’s good practice.”
Sasha shut her door. Voices drifted up and over from the backyard, and Mia heard the strum of an electric guitar.
A black Toyota Sienna parked behind the Audi Quattro.
A woman who looked to be in her late thirties and who was dressed like the princess from Super Mario Bros.
stepped out from the passenger side, gathering the pink gown in her hands.
The door to the car’s rear seats automatically glided open, and from it she pulled a small boy wearing a Toad costume.
The child was crying loudly and the mother knelt and began wiping at the corners of his mouth with a patient, careful precision.
Mia watched them. She heard the mother say, “It was just a little bit of juice, for God’s sake,” and then she turned back around.
Sasha said, “Richie, do you need somewhere to change into your costume?”
Richie removed his sunglasses. “Oh, this is my costume.”
Sasha pressed her lips together firmly. She held the car keys in a fist.
“Well, okay then!” she said. The Volvo locked with a loud beep. Sasha slipped the keys into her pocket. “How about we go meet everyone. And Adam, seriously—you don’t have to keep holding her if she keeps fussing around like that. In fact, here—give her to me so you can get yourself a drink.”
He passed Prudence to Sasha, and within a few seconds she calmed down, her mouth pulling together into a tight little bow.
Adam and Richie began walking toward the house.
Mia looked down at the fish—she didn’t know why she was holding it, or what she was supposed to do with it.
As she began to follow Adam and Richie, Sasha stopped her, placing a hand on her wrist.
“Hey,” Sasha said, “can I talk to you for a second?”
“Yes?”
“I was wondering if you could help me with something. It’s kind of annoying.”
“What is it?”
“So, I need to get that fish into a bowl in Ethan’s room without him seeing it.
His other one died this morning, and I want to replace it without him finding out about it.
I figure if I can distract him in the kitchen, then you can sneak up there and dump it in, and he’ll never know.
I mean, he might, except he’ll probably just be happy that he got a new fish, but I guess we’ll have to see.
” She was silent for a moment, then said, “You probably think I’m the world’s worst mother. ”
Sasha laughed nervously and reached up to twist one of her earrings.
Mia smiled. She had been such a nervous freak in the car, and was worried that Sasha secretly thought she was lame for planning the Miami trip, but it turned out she was being overly sensitive—because here Sasha was, pulling Mia aside, asking her for little favors.
Wind blew hair across her face, and using a single finger she brushed it away.
She asked, “Where’s Ethan’s room?”
Sasha’s shoulders lifted, then fell. Gratefully she smiled.
“Straight up the stairs,” she said. “The second door on the right.”
When she walked into the room she saw the fishless bowl immediately, sitting on top of a wooden dresser.
From the backyard she could hear laughter, along with the chorus of “Dancing in the Dark.” Mia closed the door behind her.
She went over to the dresser, and carefully poured the contents of the bag into the bowl, the fish landing in it with a soft plop.
The doorbell rang downstairs. Mia heard a woman say, “Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me with all this cuteness,” which was followed by indecipherable chatter.
She didn’t head down to the party immediately but rather took a few minutes to look around Ethan’s room, slipping the empty bag into the pocket of her coat.
Everything was tidy and color-coordinated and the air was thick with the cottony smell of dryer sheets.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she passed a hand over the duvet, then picked up a corduroy pillow that had Ethan’s name embroidered across it with thick yellow thread.
Absently Mia traced the E with one finger; but then Sasha pushed open the door and she startled.
Ethan’s pillow was still in her lap, though now she felt creepy and pathetic for holding on to it.
Quickly she set it back on the bed, then stood up and smiled.
“Success?” Sasha asked.
“Success.” Mia nodded to the bowl, where the fish stared dumbly at the glass. “Oh, wow, what a costume.”