Lauren Takes Leave Gerstenblatt, Julie (classic literature list txt) 📖

Thanks for taking a cab to the courthouse and leaving uswith your minivan and the car seats. I will make sure that Laney does somegrocery shopping today while the kids are in school and that she takes Ben toLittle League tonight.

By the way, do you have the number for Becca’s friend Ainsley?She says she has a playdate with her but it’s not on your calendar. Oh, right,you can’t call me. I’ll find it somewhere.

I know jury duty sucks. But maybe they’ll settle early orsomething? So you can come home and tell me what the kids like to eat forlunch? Ha again. Not panicking too much here…just the right amount, I think.

—D

Oh, I’m so ashamed of myself.

Sort of.

He bought the story! And now he’s got no choice but to bean active parent! Sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. Doug has towork late and cancel our romantic dinner? Fine. Understood. Things happen. Justlike I’ve got to have my pretend jury sequestered and lie my way to sunshine.

Luckily, I already lined up Jackie to babysit tonight(Laney’s not a fan of overtime), otherwise this little getaway really might nothave been possible.

The second e-mail comes from Dara, the secretary in themain office at Hadley Middle School. She’s asking for paperwork confirming myprolonged absence due to jury duty. She’s asking that I drop it by. Today. Atmy earliest convenience.

Okay, now that one has me a bit rattled. I send off aquick reply, my fingers nervously striking the letters on my phone. I’m hopingthat once she learns of my sequestration, she’ll get off my back.

Although, now that I’ve sent a response, I’m not surejurors are allowed to have their cell phones when sequestered.

Maybe she won’t think of that.

The third e-mail is self-explanatory.

Subject: Re: Hi

From: lkatzenberg@yale.alumni.edu

Date: April 13

To: laurenworthing@gmail.com

You are a baaaaad girl, Mrs. Worthing. Skipping school,lying to your husband, getting Botox, going to Boston for the day. You’re muchmore fun than I ever remembered you being in high school. Middle age reallyagrees with you.

So, what’s it going to be today? How about visiting anotherold friend?

Subject: Re: Re: Hi

From: laurenworthing@gmail.com

Date: April 13

To: lkatzenberg@yale.alumni.edu

Can’t today, old friend. Am on my way to Miami. ;)

I hit “send” and power off just as the plane accelerates.Kat grabs my hand and I grab Jodi’s on the other side. I close my eyes as wetake off, hope and fear churning together in the hollow of my stomach.

“Christ, Lauren,” Kat swears as we wait for Jodi’s bag tocome around the carousel at the Miami International Airport. “Could you get offthat thing? You’re like iDicted to your iPhone.”

“I’m just checking my messages,” I say. “But that’s prettygood, actually. I’m gonna use that line. iDicted.”

The balmy, sweet-smelling air of southern Florida envelopsus as we exit the terminal and hail a cab.

“This is amazing!” Jodi cheers. “I love you guys! Ilove us!” We tell the driver where we’re headed and sit back in the cab,rolling down the windows and admiring the palm trees. Jodi begins unwrappingherself like a mummy, letting go layer upon layer of cotton, until all that’sleft is a bandeau top and miniskirt.

“How did you do that?” Kat demands. “How the fuck does shedo that?” she reiterates, turning to me.

“It’s a gift,” Jodi concedes.

“So, are you going to visit your grandma?” I ask Jodi.

“Are you kidding me?” she says. “Of course I’m not!”

“But…why not? She only lives a few miles from the hotel, Ithought.”

“Yeah, and she has dementia and won’t know if I’m there ornot. If anyone in my family asks her, ‘Oh, how was your visit from Jodi?’she’ll probably say, ‘Jodi? Who’s Jodi?’ So, why waste the time? I’ll send abasket of oranges with a card.”

“A demented grandmother as an alibi. I love it.” Kat nodsapprovingly.

I try to finish replying to Lenny’s e-mail without themnoticing, which of course fails miserably. He suggests that we stay at theDelano, but I tell him we already made reservations.

“You love him,” Jodi teases. “He’s your pretendboyfriend.”

I smile and ignore them, finishing my e-mail and puttingthe phone away.

“It’s not funny, you know,” Kat says. “Adultery.”

I think of Kat crouched on a stool in her classroomcloset, wasting her money on calls to a psychic hotline, her husband runningoff. “You’re right,” I say, taking her hand. “It’s not funny at all. I’m aninsensitive jerk to flirt with Lenny, after all you’ve gone through.”

“Me?” Kat asks. “I don’t care about you flirting in frontof me. I mean because of Doug.”

She has a point.

I haven’t given much thought to that aspect of myflirtationship.

“But, you can’t think of your husband if you’re,like, fantasizing about some other guy,” Jodi explains, like it’s simple math.“That’s just a buzzkill.” She readjusts her bandeau top. “Anyway, it seemscompletely harmless. As my grandmother always says, ‘There’s nothing wrong withlooking, as long as you don’t touch the merchandise.’”

“Yeah,” I say, “but she’s delusional!”

“Just don’t touch, Lauren,” Jodi reiterates.

“All the thrills without the chills?” Kat jokes.

“Story of my life,” Jodi says cryptically, as the cabpulls up in front of our hotel.

Chapter 16

We quickly check in, change, and head down to thecerulean water, edged with sand the color of a light suntan. We walk as far aswe can from the more crowded part of the beach and choose a nice, secludedspot. An attendant sets up three lounge chairs facing the sun and orders somelunch for us. Jodi gets a margarita, the thought of which makes both Kat and mequeasy. “Tonight we’ll join you,” I promise her. “We require a few more hoursof detox first, though.”

It’s only 12:30 p.m., and we’re sitting by the aquamarineocean. I close my eyes and listen to the soft surf, the seagulls overhead, andmy own shallow breathing. “I can’t believe we did this! I am chillaxing!” Ideclare.

“Mmm,” Jodi concurs, flipping through the pages of yetanother tabloid magazine. Her BlackBerry buzzes and we all jump. She picks itup from the plastic side table and examines the message. “You’ve got to bekidding me! An ‘emergency’ text from the PTA. Urgent committee chair meetingtoday at two o’clock, regarding T-shirt sales.” She