Page 35

35

Marina

Just over two hours later, they were sprawled on various sofas and armchairs in the parlor, a bluish haze hanging in the air.

“That is good weed.” Marina let her hand languidly trail over an embroidered cushion cover. She’d never noticed how intricate it was until now. Were those birds?

“I haven’t smoked weed in thirty years,” Opal said, taking another hit and passing it to Lilah.

“I’ve never smoked weed.”

“You do surprise me, Lilah.”

“Are there any other laws we can break, while we’re at it?” Marina asked. “Might as well get all of them done at once.” She sat up in excitement. “Wait, could we put sugar in the gas tanks of all the construction vehicles in my neighbors’ garden? That would give us some peace and quiet around here, for once.”

“I think dumping a body in the river counts as littering.” Lilah’s words were breathy. “Wow, my voice sounds strange. Sort of—”

“High,” supplied Marina.

“Am I? Is this what it feels like?”

“This is definitely what it feels like.”

Marina accepted the spliff and took a long drag, holding the smoke in her lungs.

“I think I’m sort of like the Hulk,” she said, smoke puffing out with each word.

“You are so high,” said Opal.

“No. I mean I am, but. The thing is, that I’m angry all the time. But I have to hide it. I can’t get angry at my ex, Jake, because of the children. I don’t want them to see me badmouthing their father or losing my temper with him. I can’t get angry with his new girlfriend Freya, even though she stole my husband, because you’re not supposed to betray the sisterhood or whatever. And I can’t get angry with my family, even though they’ve been objectively terrible to me since Nana Sylvia died, because they’re my family and they kept a roof over my head when I needed it most. And I can’t get angry at Nana Sylvia for dying in such a stupid, pointless way, because it wasn’t her fault. I’d like to be angry at the women who I thought were my friends, for abandoning me when I got divorced, but I know they’re just living their lives.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been allowed to show that I’m angry, that I’m not sure I know how it feels. I don’t know if I’ve ever been allowed to be angry, for my whole life. My brother used to have massive tantrums when he didn’t get his way, but my mother always said to me ‘Thank goodness girls aren’t like that’ while seeming to think that his tantrums were cute and all part of being a boy.” She widened her eyes. “Oh God. I hope I don’t raise my children like that.”

“You’re fine,” said Opal. “Those children are steeped in feminism.”

“You know what I’m really mad about? It’s not even Jake cheating on me, because it led to us getting divorced, and that was a good thing. It’s that Jake stole my love of cooking from me. Jake doesn’t really care about food, or not my kind of food. He doesn’t like anything with strong flavors or distinct textures. He could eat shepherd’s pie for dinner every single night. Before we were married, he said he was proud of me for having a career, but then once we were married it changed. He didn’t like that I stayed out for long nights at work. He said I always smelled awful after a dinner shift. He said that being a chef wasn’t a proper job for a woman, and of course my parents had never been crazy about my job either. So when I got pregnant he said it didn’t make any sense for me to work. I wanted to go part time, but he said that it wasn’t natural for me to want to be away from my baby. He said we couldn’t afford full-time childcare, and my job didn’t pay enough to be worth it.”

“Which meant that you weren’t worth it,” said Lilah, punctuating her words with a stabbing finger of solidarity.

“I think if when I’d first met Jake, he’d said that he didn’t like my job and that he’d expect me to give it up when I had babies, and stay at home and cook him shepherd’s pie, I wouldn’t have gone on a second date with him. But it happened gradually, bit by bit, until I didn’t feel as if I had a choice. And then he left me anyway.”

“Fucker,” said Opal.

Marina was really in the flow now. “And then from the minute you get pregnant, everyone has an opinion on your body, on what you eat, how much you weigh, how you act, how you should dress your baby and feed your baby and talk to your baby...even complete strangers on the street will tell you what to do. Even people who have never had children themselves! And they touch you without your permission. That makes me furious . God, I wanted to chop their fingers off.

“And then when you meet other parents of children the same age, especially the stay-at-home parents—I’m sure they’re not all like this but the ones I met definitely were—they’re competitive while pretending they aren’t being competitive at all. It’s always who’s got the best stroller, whose children walked first, whose children are gifted, whose children are best behaved, who had the easiest breastfeeding experience, whose baby sleeps through the night. And everyone’s smiling and smiling, showing off their perfect lives. Sometimes I wish I could do what Lucy Rose does, and bite somebody.”

“You are the Hulk,” said Lilah. “Except not so green.”

“I’m always angry, and I’m always apologizing. The angrier I am, the more I apologize. I’m not supposed to be angry, but I can’t help it, and anyway, what if anger is the only way that I can change anything? Apologies have never helped. I feel like I’ve done two things in my life that were purely for me, because I wanted to, without taking anyone else into consideration first. One was my career. And the other one was pushing Xavier down the stairs.”

“That’s why you said it felt good to do it,” said Lilah.

“Yes. Or possibly, I’m genetically predetermined to be a serial killer. But mostly, I think it was the anger.”

They sat with that for a while. Time seemed to have slowed down. Opal finished off the spliff and dropped it into a Venetian blown-glass ashtray.

“You know what I really want?” said Lilah dreamily.

“A man who’s not going to use you, chew you up, and let you down until you have to shoot him in the face?”

“Well, that would be nice but actually I really, really want ice cream.”

They let that sink in for a minute.

“I don’t think I have any in the freezer,” said Marina. “Maybe some Mini Milks.”

“I don’t want a Mini Milk. I want double chocolate chip.”

“Pistachio,” said Opal.

“Also, strawberry.”

“Cheesecake. Strawberry cheesecake. Plus, regular strawberry.”

“Salted caramel.”

“And mango sorbet.”

“I can’t get off this sofa to get to the store.”

“Fortunately,” said Lilah, “I have a phone with a delivery app.” She dug it out of her fanny pack.

“Ooh.” Opal rolled over onto her stomach. “Can we also get some whipped cream? The kind that comes in a can?”

“That stuff is a monstrosity,” Marina told her. “I love it.”

Lilah concentrated hard on her phone screen for several minutes, screwing her eyes up. Then she made a final tap. “Done.”

“Oh my God, I love you,” said Marina.

“I love you too,” said Lilah, sounding surprised.

“You two are so high ,” pronounced Opal.

“I bet children’s television would be hilarious right now.” Marina began humming the tune to Wonder Pets .

“Listen,” said Lilah. “Wait, listen, listen.”

They listened.

“What are we listening for?”

“I meant listen to me.”

“Oh.”

“We need good alibis. We didn’t think of that.”

“We were all home,” said Opal. “We don’t even know each other.”

“But we met in public. And also, we’ve been coming and going at this house. Someone must have seen us.”

“We’re working on a charity together,” suggested Marina.

“What kind of charity?”

“Books,” said Lilah, at the same time that Marina said, “Children.”

“Children’s books,” decided Opal. “About fitness.”

Marina thought about it for a moment. “That is a shit alibi.”

“Maybe we should think up something when we’re not really wasted.”

Lilah found this inexplicably funny and started laughing so hard that she hiccupped, and Marina laughed at her, and then Opal laughed at both of them, and it was a stoned second or two before they heard the doorbell ring.

“Ice cream. Yessss .” Marina gathered herself, stood up, and made a rather crooked path through the hallway and to the front door. She threw it open, with a “Thank God you’re here!”

It was the police.