Chapter 41
MY PARENTS STRONGLY BELIEVED in educational gifts.
But there weren’t a lot of them around when I was a preschooler.
I remember ABC coloring books, magnetic alphabet blocks, lots of picture books with words, letters, numbers.
And toddler-size day-of-the-week undies.
Yes, I always had a birthday cake. But none of mine ever had five tiers.
Well, that was then. This is now. As Bella’s party is ending, I must confess it’s been lovely.
Even the children seem content. No crashes after sugar rushes.
Not a single tantrum or meltdown. Nothing but smiling faces loaded with glitter and stickers and hand-painted butterflies.
The parents are pleased. The Velasquezes are relieved. Even the pony seems happy.
The children each get a choice of parting gifts: a Skyrocket Mega Chomp remote-control shark, a Magic Mixies Magical Misting crystal ball, or a Tecboss wireless Bluetooth karaoke microphone. To paraphrase F. Scott Fitzgerald: The rich are different from you and me. They have better goody bags.
The caterers are busy clearing away dirty dishes and picking up all the pieces of pink pizza crust scattered under the kiddie tables.
Lily has dozed off in her Snugli. Great!
Now’s my chance to do a little damage at the food table.
I grab a plate and pile on some of those lamb lollies, a few trout croquettes, the last leftover kiddie hamburgers, and a giant glob of caviar and cream cheese dip.
But before I can take my first bite, someone taps me on the shoulder.
It’s Ben. Amber is standing behind him, looking miserable.
“We want to leave,” he says to me. No Hello.
No Did you have a good time? I’m not even offered the option of staying, even though I drove over in my own car.
Ben smells like beer and has a big greasy stain on his two-hundred-dollar black cotton Rag and Bone T-shirt.
Is that why he’s annoyed? Hard to say. A guy like Ben doesn’t need a reason.
Amber notices the plate in my hand. “At least let Carol finish her lunch, hon,” she says. “Lily and I can go home with you.”
“No!” he says. “You come with me and let Carol take her.” He gestures to the baby as if he’s swatting a fly.
Might as well bust his chops a little.
“You don’t want Lily in your car?” I ask.
“New rule. Not while she’s still in diapers,” he says. The corners of his lips slide down in disgust. I guess a BMW trounces a BM.
Ben pulls car keys out of his pocket and jiggles them in his hand as he wanders off toward his car. Amber walks over to hug Felicia and Paulo goodbye, but Ben doesn’t wait. Nice guy, this hon of hers.
Ben is a big fan of black T-shirts. But I can’t wait to see how he looks in orange.