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Coral smiles shyly. Rhiannon jumps in. “She’s incredible. A real talent.”
Coral’s about to speak for herself, but then her phone rings. The tone is a mourning dove’s call.
“Sorry,” Coral says, and turns away to answer. Lenna’s surprised that women get calls in such a remote place. She wonders who they speak to from their old lives.
Then the women point out their children to Lenna. Many are playing under the misters. There are too many names for Lenna to keep track of. The women coo over Jacob, asking the usual questions—“How old?” “Is he a good sleeper?” “Is he good at nursing?” (They presume Lennaisnursing.) They ask to hold him, though Lenna shakes her head. “I should warn you in advance, he cries alot.We’ll just keep him sleeping for now.”
“Crying doesn’t scare us,” they all say.
Then Lenna realizes that another woman is lingering on the porch. She has black hair cut at a sharp, bold angle at her chin. Her skin is ivory and flawless, and her eyebrows are groomed. She wears a wine-colored silk shirt that looks expensive, and flowing black pants. Her shoes are flats with crepe soles. It’s only when the others move toward the circle of chairs that she offers her hand as though Lenna is fortunate to have her attention.
“Gia Civatelli,” she says. Her voice is tempered. Snotty. Almost like she expects Lenna to know who she is.
“Hello.” Lenna glances toward Rhiannon and Marjorie, expecting one of them to fill in how long Gia’s been here, or what skill she’s brought to the table. No one offers any explanation. In fact, Rhiannon brushes her hands together.
“I’m going to take Lenna to her room,” Rhiannon announces.
“You’ve told her the rules, yes?” Marjorie asks.
“I will,” Rhiannon promises.
“Rules?” Lenna asks.
Marjorie smiles. “Don’t worry. Just some basics.”
Back in the house, they turn to a long hallway. A stained-glass window at the far end glows. Lenna can still hear everyone talking outside. “They all seem…nice,” she says, because it seems like the thing oneshouldsay. Though they do seem friendly—except for that woman in the silk, who Lenna is sure won’t enjoy her child’s constant cries. She hopes her bedroom is far away.
“Oh, they are,” Rhiannon gushes. “It’s a great community.”
“What are these rules Marjorie was talking about?”
“Oh. Yes. I’ve got them memorized—one, respect everyone’s property. No messing with people’s things. Two, no littering, and no excessive or wasteful use of products. Especially no plastics.”
“No plastics?” Lenna looks nervously at the plastic water bottle in the pocket of her backpack.
“Marjorie doesn’t think it’s respectful to the land. And plastics are basically toxic, you know?” Rhiannon keeps going. “Three, try and be your best self, and always strive for gratitude, peacefulness, and truth. Four, there are some rules about toilet flushing and the septic system, but you’ll see those posted on the bathroom door. Five, we expect you to come to at least three community meals a week—for the others you can do whatever you want. It’s a good group, though—I usually go to all of them. But not everyone does. Six, this is a women-only property, but you already knew that. Seven, there’s the chore chart, which I’ll go through in more detail later. You will be expected to do some chores while you’re here, but it won’t be much.”
“I don’t mind.” Hopefully her chores will be with Rhiannon, so they can get time together.
“And finally, we’re sensitive about people asking about our pasts,” Rhiannon goes on, her voice dropping. “People see coming here as a rebirth. A fresh start. A lot of people don’t want to talk about who they used to be. It’s very important that we’re respectful. Don’t talk about someone’s past unless they bring it up first. Marjorie’s serious about this one. It can be grounds for expulsion.”
“Wow. Okay. Got it.”
Rhiannon avoids her gaze, but Lenna wonders if she’s aware of the question that’s burning on Lenna’s lips.Do you tell them whoyouused to be?
They come to a door at the end of the hall. “Here’s your room.” Rhiannon opens it to show off a small room with a queen bed, a dresser, and a desk. A small crib is in the corner. There are even decent blankets inside. Lenna lifts one of them to her nostrils. It smells fresh. But the doubt creeps in, and the anxiety.Squeeze, squeeze.
They drag in all of Lenna’s luggage and set it in the corner. Then Rhiannon shifts her weight. “So.”
“So.” Lenna feels like she should say something profound. Aboutthem.Their friendship. Who they used to be. What happened.
But then Rhiannon looks away, and the opportunity is gone. “Anyway, I thought you might want to rest.”
Lenna makes a big deal of glancing at her watch. “Jacob’s way off his schedule, but I guess that doesn’t matter.” She should just let him sleep.
“There’s some iced tea.” Rhiannon points to a pitcher on the dresser. “Melissa made it. She used cucumber. It’s really good.”
“Sounds delicious. Thanks.”
