Stuffed animals and dress-up clothes were strewn across the rug. Olivia spun around, taking in the four-poster princess bed, the pastel tea set on a table, the dollhouse in the corner. Luci was nowhere in sight. “Lu Lu?” she called.
Ruby grabbed her mother’s hand. “Look what she did!” Olivia watched in horror as Ruby dragged Helen to the bed and pointed to the chenille duvet. That was when she saw it. The large round stain in the center of the blanket.
Helen stiffened. “Is that…?”
Ruby whirled around to face Olivia. “She peed my bed! She ruined it.”
It was then Olivia heard it, a muffled sound coming from the closet. She yanked the doors open. There, pressed in the corner in a little ball, was Luci.
“It’s okay, baby.” Olivia reached in and scooped her up. To Ruby, she said, “Luci and I are so sorry. It was an accident.”
Helen was watching them both with concern, but also something else. “No, no. I’m sorry, too. I assumed she was potty-trained.”
Olivia closed her eyes, holding Luci to her chest. She could feelthe dampness through her daughter’s pants. How long had she sat like that? “She is,” Olivia blurted. “But she must’ve had to go and didn’t know where the potty was.”
“She should have asked,” Ruby sputtered.
“Ruby,” Helen said. “You know she can’t!” Then, turning to Olivia, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean she can’t. What I meant was…”
Olivia shook her head. “It’s okay.”
It was all her fault. Helen knew about Luci’s mutism, but Olivia had forgotten to ask Helen where the bathrooms were located. It was her job to make sure Luci knew. To show her. To avoid disaster, like this. But she was so busy talking about herself and her art and her new life in Connecticut, she’d forgotten.
“I need to take Luci to the bathroom, and then I will help you clean up,” Olivia offered.
Helen looked at her sympathetically. “The bathroom is down the hall on the right.” Then, “Don’t worry about it. We can clean up.”
“Not me,” Ruby said, pulling her stuffed animals off the bed to safety. She glared at Luci, who was still in Olivia’s arms. “She’s gross.”
“Ruby!” Helen said. “That’s not nice.”
“I think we should go.” Olivia was not going to subject Luci to another second of this humiliation. Her wet bottom had already gone cold. Helen didn’t offer a change of clothes and Olivia wasn’t about to ask. All she wanted was to get out of there as fast as she could. “Thank you, again, for the invitation. I’m sorry about your bed, Ruby.”
She was halfway down the stairs when Luci whimpered into her ear. “I tried to ask, Mama. I tried.”
Olivia blinked back tears. Miss Griffin’s advice rang in her ears. Stay calm, address the situation with Luci in private. “It’s all right, baby girl. I know you did.”
This was what always got her. Just when Olivia let her guard down and began to enjoy herself like any other mother on any other playdate, something like this happened. Olivia pressed her lips to Luci’s temple, and they let themselves out into the blinding light of the afternoon. That was the thing Olivia could never let herself forget. They weren’t like everyone else.
Phoebe
She was not the kind of person who skipped dentist appointments. Every six months Phoebe rounded up the family and dragged everyone in for a cleaning. It was her least favorite day of the year.
So when the phone call came from the dental office, Phoebe was mystified. “You’re more than a year past due for a cleaning,” the receptionist said.
“A year? But that can’t be. Patrick just had a crossbite X-ray.” She had the bill to prove it.
“Yes. Your husband and children are all up-to-date. But we haven’t seen you in a while. Fifteen months, to be exact.”
Fifteen months! Phoebe scheduled her appointment with her tail between her legs, and also made a mental note: she was becoming one of those statistics. The mother who takes care of everyone in the family except herself. What was next? Would she be like that woman on Oprah who was so busy planning and packing for her family’s Hawaiian vacation that she boarded the plane and waited until she was in the middle of a surfing lesson before she admitted she was in full coronary distress? Phoebe was pretty sure Perry could supply her with all kinds of statistics onthatwoman.
So there she was, dutifully seated in the waiting room flipping throughArchitectural Digest, when she saw it. The claw-foot tub she’d been dreaming of. Phoebe held it out to the hygienist. “I’m in the middle of a house renovation,” she blurted.
She followed the hygienist to the chair in the back room, all the while holding the magazine. “Master baths are one place you can secure a hefty return on your investment,” she read aloud. The hygienist smiled and affixed her bib. Was she even listening?
“Do I want a walk-in shower? Or a soaker tub? What I’d like is to have both, but because space is an issue, should I just surrender and do a combo?”
The hygienist shook her head. “Not the combo.” So shewaslistening.
