Page 31 of Mean Moms

“I’m a lesbian, and I heard that!” It was Gabby Mahler followed by Ava Leo.

“Hello, Frost, hello Frost’s shadow, Sofia,” said Ava with a smirk.

Sofia scowled at her. Gabby had curled her short blond hair and was wearing a cropped white T-shirt, a purple button-down tied around her waist. Ava had mushroomed her bob—as if she’d stuck her finger in a socket—and was in a graphic T-shirt and a black suit vest.

“I think I know who you two are…” said Frost.

“Party on, dudes!” Ava and Gabby interrupted in unison, collapsing into a giggling fit. They were both carrying electric guitars.

“Who are you?” Sofia asked.

“All we are is dust in the wind, dude,” said Ava solemnly.

“Bogus!” said Gabby. They couldn’t stop laughing.

“I don’t understand this costume,” said Sofia.

Ava rolled her eyes at her—it was the second time in so many minutes that Ava had been rude to Sofia.

Ava wasn’t particularly nice to anyone, but there was a pointed dismissiveness to her interactions with Sofia, which Frost assumed was classic female jealousy. How boring.

“We’re Bill and Ted! From the movie!” said Gabby, snickering still. Sofia shrugged.

“Guess it didn’t make it down to Miami,” Sofia said with a sweet smile. “Or maybe you guys are way older than me.”

“Burn,” said Gabby, elbowing Ava.

David Chung then entered the lobby, dressed as Abraham Lincoln in a top hat and long beard, a bit player from Bill let’s find them,” said Frost as the doors opened into the party.

She took Sofia’s hand, leading her through the cluster.

Frost waved bye to Tim and saw him drift over to Art, who was standing close to the entrance.

Frost’s stomach seized; she hadn’t seen Art since they’d stopped speaking, and she was annoyed that his presence made her feel nervous.

He’d come dressed as Trey MacDougal, Charlotte’s first husband—Morgan had explained to Frost that he’d been too vain to wear a bald cap as Harry Goldenblatt—and so he was in a red plaid kilt.

He caught Frost’s eye and then looked away.

Frost and Sofia pressed into the ruckus in search of the completion of their foursome.

Frost wanted to get as far away from Art as possible.

Plus, the costumes only really worked when they were all together.

The enormous duplex apartment had floor-to-ceiling windows throughout.

You could see Brooklyn from one side and New Jersey from the other, the Statue of Liberty holding her torch in the distance.

Frost cringed, thinking about the number of women who’d been sexually harassed so that Clara Cain, defense attorney to sex pests, could afford this place.

Frost quickly saw that the Cains had leaned into the Friends in Friendsgiving, and had turned the apartment into a nearly identical re-creation of Central Perk.

There was worn, velvety furniture, wooden tables, and a perfectly set up coffee bar at one side of the living room that made it feel as if you were stepping into the famous TV show.

The waiters, actors who resembled the cast of Friends , were passing around espresso martinis.

Frost and Sofia both took one from a David Schwimmer look-alike.

“Thanks, Ross,” Sofia trilled. “This show did make it to Miami,” she said happily to Frost, who was still trying to spot the rest of their crew.

Before she could, Clara approached. She had on a wavy, long blond wig and was in some sort of gaudy lace evening gown.

“Ladies! Welcome!” she said brightly, giving them each a wet kiss on the cheek.

“I love me some Sex and the City ! Did you know that Dre Finlay, Genevieve Thomas, Caroline Press, and Jessica Hillton came as the fab four, as well?” Clara gestured over to a nearby group, and Frost saw that their costume idea wasn’t so novel after all.

There was a Carrie in a tutu, a Samantha in a red halter gown, a pregnant Charlotte in a black-and-white polka-dot dress (Jessica was seven months along).

Plus, it looked like Caroline Press, in a slinky black dress with a sheer panel on top, had opted for sexy Miranda over frumpy Miranda. Frost was beyond annoyed.

“Thanks for having us, Clara,” said Sofia. “Such a great event.”

“I can’t wait for yours!” said Clara. “A surrealist ball! It’s brilliant.”

“What are you dressed as?” asked Frost politely. She really just wanted to find Belle and Morgan, but Clara was the host, and so they’d have to dutifully put in their time.

“Ah, well, I was just so busy at work on top of all this party planning,” said Clara (Sofia made a face at Frost), “and so the costume came together very last minute. I’m Kate Winslet, and Neil over there”—she pointed to her husband, in a classic tuxedo, his stomach straining against the buttoned jacket, taking a napkin out of his pocket and blowing his nose with it, loudly—“he’s Leonardo DiCaprio,” said Clara.

Frost let out a barking laugh, but then pivoted to a cough to cover her tracks.

Clara, pretending not to notice, went on.

“Kate and Leo are such good friends. They met while filming Titanic and have remained close since then,” said Clara.

“Oh… do you know them?” asked Sofia, confused.

“No, I don’t know them,” said Clara, shaking her head. “Though I’m surprised that Leo hasn’t called me yet, based on his history of dating, um, young women,” said Clara.

“Perhaps one day soon,” said Frost dryly. Clara smiled at the thought.

“It’s a great costume idea. And a great party,” said Frost, trying to end the chat. She couldn’t see Belle or Morgan anywhere.

“Did you hear they arrested the homeless guy who’d been hanging around the school?” asked Clara. Frost and Sofia nodded.

“The rumor is that someone was giving him money to stay in the area,” said Clara. “That’s what Julie Klein told me. She was there. Why would anyone do that?”

“Have you seen Morgan or Belle?” asked Frost now. She was done talking to Clara.

“I think they’re upstairs,” said Clara. “And, well, how are the boys?” She said it as if she knew something that Frost didn’t want her to.

“They’re fine, why do you ask?” said Frost, worried about what she was hinting at.

“Ozzie told me that they’d been involved in the Hildy-nude-photo thing,” said Clara, who was clutching a large espresso martini. She was a little slurry, and Frost realized she must be drunk. Fuck.

“They’re all good,” said Frost swiftly. “Here’s to Atherton’s ‘chosen community!’” Frost raised her glass to Clara and grabbed Sofia’s arm, pulling away.

“And congrats on your art show, Frost,” Clara yelled after them. “I can’t wait!”

As they speed-walked to the stairs, Sofia squeezed Frost’s wrist, getting Frost to slow down, even though Frost knew what was coming and didn’t want to discuss it.

“Frost, what nude photos?” Sofia was wide-eyed.

“It was all just a mix-up,” Frost said hurriedly. “Someone sent some fake nude pictures to Alfred, and he opened the attachment without knowing what it was.”

“Of Hildy?” said Sofia.

Just then, they saw Morgan and Belle heading down the stairs toward them, Morgan floating along in a strapless white lace wedding dress, a shawl wrapped around her neck, and Belle in her tutu, twirling theatrically, her impressive hair set into Carrie ringlets, carrying a nearly full espresso martini.

“We’re all together!” said Belle. The sound system was blasting “I’ll Be There for You” on repeat, and it was getting difficult to hear, between that and the ambient chatter.

“We’ve been looking for you, but we got detained by Clara,” said Frost.

“Oh God,” said Belle, subtly pointing at the other Sex and the City pod. “They stole our idea!” Dre Finlay saw them staring and did a passive-aggressive bow in her tutu.

“Belle, I haven’t seen your Mr. Big,” said Frost, looking around for Jeff.

“He’s probably hanging with Trey and Steve.

” She laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“Sofia, you look hot,” Belle continued. Frost was proud of Belle for making it out to the party—the moms were still whispering about what had happened with Pippins Cottage Home, everyone expressing sympathy to Belle’s face while snickering behind her back and calling it karma for being a bitch.

Belle and Jeff had hired the private investigator Greg Summerly to look into the lanternflies incident, but he hadn’t gotten anywhere yet. It was all pretty much a disaster.

“I’m so happy we have a Samantha in our group. Finally!” said Belle. “I love being in a foursome. I’m glad you joined our little pod.”

Clara then sauntered up to the group, accompanied by Ava and Gabby, looking like hooked fish.

“We were just, uh, chatting with Clara here, and wanted everyone to join in,” said Gabby, winking at them when Clara wasn’t looking. Ava, her hair springing in every direction, gave “help us” eyes.

Clara was sloshing her espresso martini, sending it raining over the edges of her glass.

“I love you all, did you know that?” Clara said. Frost, wanting to run interference for fear of what Clara might say, jumped in.

“I think we should check out upstairs,” said Frost. The other women nodded, happy to be saved.