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“This doesn't exactly sound like a theoretical question,” Holly Grace replied dryly.
“What's that mean?”
“It means you should have done your science project.”
“This one was dumb.” Teddy scowled. “Why would anybody want to go around killing a bunch of bugs and sticking them to a board with pins? Don't you think that's dumb?”
Holly Grace was beginning to get the drift. Despite Teddy's penchant for war games and filling every sheet of drawing paper he put his hands on with pictures of guns and knives, most of them dripping blood, the child was a pacifist at heart. She had once seen him carry a spider down seventeen floors in the elevator so he could release it on the street. “Did you talk to your mother about this?”
“Yeah. She called my gifted teacher to ask if I could draw the bugs instead of killing them, but when Miss Pearson said no, they ended up getting in an argument and Miss Pearson hung up. Mom doesn't like Miss Pearson. She thinks she puts too much pressure on us kids. Finally Mom said she'd kill the bugs for me.”
Holly Grace rolled her eyes at the idea of Francesca killing anything. If any bugs had to be killed, she had a pretty strong notion who would end up doing the job. “That seems to solve your problem, then, doesn't it?”
Teddy looked over at her, a picture of offended dignity.
“What kind of jerk do you think I am? What difference would it make to the bugs whether I killed them or she did? They'd still be dead because of me.”
Holly Grace looked over at him and smiled. She loved this kid—she really did.
Naomi Jaffe Tanaka Perlman's quaint little mews house was set on a small cobbled Greenwich V
illage street that held one of New York's few surviving bishop's-crook lampposts. A tangle of winter-bare wisteria vines clung to the green shutters and white-painted brick of the house, which Naomi had purchased with some of the profits from the ad agency she'd started four years ago. She lived there with her second husband, Benjamin R. Perlman, a professor of political science at Columbia. As far as Holly Grace could see, the two of them had a marital match made in left-wing heaven. They gave money to every goosey cause that came their way, held cocktail parties for people who wanted to bust up the CIA, and worked in a soup kitchen once a week for relaxation. Still, Holly Grace had to admit that Naomi had never seemed more content. Naomi had told her that, for the first time in her life, she felt as if all the parts of herself had come together.
Naomi led them into her cozy living room, waddling more than Holly Grace thought necessary, since she was only five months pregnant. Holly Grace hated the gnawing envy that ate away at her every time she looked at Naomi's waddle, but she couldn't seem to help it, even though Naomi had been her good friend ever since their Sassy days. But every time she looked at Naomi, she couldn't help thinking that if she didn't have a baby soon, she would lose her chance forever.
“... so she's going to fail me in science,” Teddy concluded from the kitchen, where he and Naomi had gone for refreshments.
“But that's barbaric,” Naomi replied. The blender whirred for a few moments and then shut off. “... think you should petition. This has to be a violation of your civil rights. I'm going to talk to Ben.”
“That's all right,” Teddy said. “I think Mom got me into enough trouble with my teacher as it is.”
Moments later, they emerged from the kitchen, Teddy with a bottle of natural fruit soda in his hand and Naomi holding out a strawberry daiquiri to Holly Grace. “Did you hear about that bizarre insect assassination project at Teddy's school?” she asked. “If I were Francesca, I'd sue. I really would.”
Holly Grace took a sip of her daiquiri. “I think Francesca might have a few more important things on her mind right now.”
Naomi smiled, then glanced toward Teddy, who was disappearing into the bedroom to get Ben's chess set. “Do you think she'll do it?” she whispered.
“It's hard to say. When you see Francesca rolling around the floor in her jeans and giggling with Teddy like a fool, it seems pretty impossible. But when somebody upsets her, and she gets that snooty look on her face, you just know a few of her ancestors had to have had blue blood, and then you've got to think that it's a real possibility.”
Naomi eased down in front of the coffee table, folding her legs so she looked like a pregnant Buddha. “I'm opposed to monarchy on principle, but I have to admit that Princess Francesca Serritella Day Brancuzi has a terrific ring.”
Teddy returned with the chess set and began setting it up on the coffee table. “Concentrate this time, Naomi. You're almost as easy to beat as Mom.”
Suddenly they all jumped as three sharp bangs sounded at the front door. “Oh, dear,” Naomi said, glancing apprehensively toward Holly Grace. “I only know one person who knocks like that.”
“Don't you dare let him in while I'm here!” Holly Grace jerked forward, splashing strawberry daiquiri down the front of her white sweat suit.
“Gerry!” Teddy shrieked, racing for the door.
“Don't open it,” Holly Grace called out, jumping up. “No, Teddy!”
But it was too late. Not enough men passed through Teddy Day's life for him to give up a chance to be with any one of them. Before Holly Grace could stop him, he had flung open the door.
“Hey, Teddy!” Gerry Jaffe called out, offering the palms of his hands. “What's happenin', my man?”
Teddy slapped him ten. “Hey, Gerry! I haven't seen you in a couple of weeks. Where have you been?”
“In court, kiddo, defending some people who did a little damage to the Shoreham nuclear power plant.”
