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On the day of the recital Marah was so nervous and excited she could barely contain her emotions. As usual, the stress of it all turned her into a pint-sized diva given to jumbo-jet-sized tantrums. Now she stood by the dining room table, one hand on her hip, dressed in faded low-rise jeans and a pink top that read Baby One More Time in rhinestones. An inch of skin showed between the bottom of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. "Where did you put my butterfly barrettes?"
Hunched over the sewing machine, Kate barely glanced up. "Theyre in your bathroom drawer. Top one. And youre not wearing that top out of the house. "
Marahs mouth dropped open. "But it was a birthday present. "
"Yeah, well, your Aunt Tully is an idiot. "
"Everyone gets to dress like this. "
"Youre breaking my heart. Really. Now go change. I dont have time to argue with you. "
Marah sighed dramatically and stormed back upstairs.
Kate shook her head. It wasnt just the recital. Everything with Marah lately was high drama. Her daughter was either giggling and happy or flat-out pissed. Whenever Mom saw her granddaughter she laughed, lit up a smoke, and said, "Oh, the teen years will be fun. You should start drinking before its too late. "
Kate bent closer to the machine, put her foot on the pedal, and went back to work.
As it turned out, that ended up being the last time she paused for almost two hours. Then, as soon as shed finished the costumes for the dance recital, she rushed on to her other chores—finding hangers, packing the car, helping the boys brush their teeth, and breaking up fights. Thankfully Johnny took care of dinner and the dishes.
At six oclock, she herded everyone to the car and helped the boys into their car seats, then took her own seat. "Have I forgotten anything?"
Johnny looked at her. "You have spaghetti sauce on your forehead. "
She flipped down the visor and saw herself in the tiny rectangular mirror. Sure enough, she had a streak of red across her brow.
"I didnt take a shower," she said, horrified.
"I wondered about that," Johnny said.
She turned to him. "You knew?"
"When I told you it was five oclock you bit my head off and told me to make dinner. "
She groaned. In all the hoopla, shed forgotten to get herself ready. She was still dressed in her oldest pair of jeans, a baggy UW sweatshirt, and scuffed Adidas. "I look like a bag lady. "
"But one who went to college. "
Ignoring him, she ran out of the car, hearing Marah shriek behind her, "Wear makeup, Mom!"
Kate dug through her drawers, found a pair of fairly new black stirrup pants and a thigh-length black and white V-neck sweater. Were stirrup pants still in style? She didnt know. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she anchored it with a white scrunchie, then brushed her teeth and put on mascara and blush.
Outside, a horn honked.
She grabbed a pair of black silk ankle socks and a pair of suede flats and ran back to the car.
"Were going to be late," Marah whined. "Everyone else is probably already there. "
"Were fine," Kate said, only slightly out of breath.
They drove through town and parked at the Island Auditorium. Inside, it was pandemonium: twelve girls between the ages of seven and eleven, their harried parents, dozens of rowdy, disinterested siblings, and Miss Parker, their seventy-year-old dance instructor, who demanded strict propriety at all times and somehow managed to corral this wild bunch without ever raising her voice. Kate carried the costumes into the dressing room, where she helped the girls get ready, bobby-pinned and ponytailed and sprayed their hair, and helped them put on a few touches of mascara and lip gloss.
When she was finished, she knelt down in front of her daughter. "You ready?"
"Did you bring the video camera?"
"Of course we did. "
Marah grinned at that, showing off her crooked, oversized teeth. "Im glad youre here, Mommy," she said.
