Totlandia: The Onesies, Book 1 (Fall) (16 page)

Ally had outdone herself for what the Probationary Onesies were now calling “the costume workshop.” Along with bolts in all shades and fabrics and textures, there were scissors, glue guns, glitter, plus tiny plastic jars of water paints, feathers, buttons, Styrofoam balls, and cardboard.

She’d also gone out of her way to get solid-colored one-piece footed pajamas in a rainbow selection of toddler sizes 12 to 24 months.

Lorna gave a long, low whistle. “I feel as if I’ve walked into Martha Stewart’s workshop. This is incredible!” She picked up a footsie. “Smart thinking! These will cut our work in half.”

Jillian nodded. “That’s fine by me, since I’ve got to make two of them.”

“Your daughters are adorable. Like two peas in a pod.” Jade stroked Amelia’s cheek while she slept. Thank goodness the workshop was taking place during all the toddlers’ naptime. Jade froze then picked up two solid green footsies. “That’s it! Why not make them peas in a pod?”

“Oh my God! What a great idea! I can paint these Stryrofoam balls light green, and run them right beside the zipper, then layer felt onto their footsies, to make the pod. They’ll have green felt hats, too, and
 
voila
!” Jillian grabbed a paintbrush and went to work.

In a few minutes, everyone was busy at work. Jade was putting stripes on a white footsie, the first step toward a little baseball outfit sporting the number 55—San Francisco Giants pitcher, Tim Lincecum.

Kelly and Lorna had decided on Robin Hood outfits.

When the doorbell rang, Ally was gluing peacock feathers on a turquoise footsie for Zoe’s bird costume. She was surprised to see Brady standing on the other side of the door.

“Where’s the party?” he asked.

“In here, to the left. Follow me.”

He’d follow her to the ends of the earth if she’d let him.

In the meantime, he would admire her from afar.

For now anyway.

Although the other women waved at him, they were too wrapped up in their projects to notice Jade’s joy as she threw herself into his arms.

Everyone but Ally, that is.

Jade’s kiss was aimed at Brady’s lips, but he jerked his head away, and the kiss landed on his chin instead.

She shrugged it off, but he could tell she was hurt.

Ally must have known, too, because she turned away too quickly, spilling the bottled water on the table beside her elbow.

“Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered as she swabbed the spill with a dishcloth.

That’s when Brady realized Ally would never do anything to hurt her new friend, Jade.

They were all in this together. Jade included.

He too wanted to let loose with a litany of curses, but he couldn’t.

Just like he couldn’t take Ally in his arms.

Or kiss her. Or tell her how she was everything he’d been looking for in a woman. Up until now, he’d let his dick or his brogrammer ego lead him to flashy, stacked women who were wowed by his money, his smarts, and his reputation for making them miserable.

Ally didn’t want him to make her miserable. She just wanted to be his friend.

But that wasn’t an option.

One way or another, he’d convince her of that.

But first he’d have to make Jade understand she was here for Oliver and not for him.

That wasn’t going to be easy. But it was the only option she’d have, if she wanted to stay in Oliver’s life.

Monday, 22 October
 

If you were to ask Sally, Chakra was a dream come true. Not only did she hoe, rake, compost, plant, fertilize, and water on command, but in Sally’s timid mind, she’d also taken on the hardest job of all: Shaming the other moms into taking their designated shifts.

Granted, throwing that tomato at the Threesie mother who refused to weed the garden in brand new trousers was going a bit too far, but Chakra’s sullen apology had been accepted (along with Sally’s promise to babysit the woman’s toddler on two separate occasions,
 
and
 
buy her a new pair of pants).

So Sally was heartbroken when, loading the gardening tools into the trunk of Chakra’s Nissan Leaf electric car, she discovered the clear plastic sales bag containing little Quest’s Halloween costume—and the purchase receipt.

She was still deciding whether it was worth covering for Chakra when Mallory walked up behind her. “Wow, this is a pretty big trunk for an electric car.”

Sally almost jumped out of her skin before slamming the trunk lid.

Mallory whipped her hand away just in time. “Jesus, Sally! You broke my nail! What was that white thing in there anyway?”

“Nothing. Just…an old rug.”

She was lying. It was a fleece lamb costume from some organic costume company based in Berkeley.

If Quest wore it to the parade, and Mallory recognized it and realized Sally had covered up the infraction, Sally would be just as dead to the club as Chakra.

This year, Halloween was turning out to be scary for all the wrong reasons.

Wednesday, 24 October
 

It was Lorna’s idea that the Onesies attend an It’s Yoga mom-and-baby class in the Presidio as that morning’s meet-up activity. As she watched the other mothers breathing and stretching with their toddlers to the directions murmured by the studio’s instructor, she too breathed deeply. This event was exactly what she needed to solidify her place in the club.

Bettina had sent Mallory as her eyes and ears. Unfortunately, the way Mallory tapped her foot and clucked her tongue during the whole session was anything but relaxing. Not only that, Lorna didn’t like the way Mallory was scrutinizing Dante. The scorn in Mallory’s eyes as Dante groaned whenever Lorna tried to follow the instructor’s gentle directive to stretch his leg, or lift his arm, was obvious. Whereas the other children laughed and cooed at being stretched and played with, Dante preferred that Lorna leave him be. To her dismay, her touch was shrugged off.

If Mallory weren’t watching, she would have teared up. Instead, she smiled and laughed; all the while pretending Dante’s actions were normal.

But she knew better.

It was a hollow victory when, afterward, all the other mothers gave Lorna a round of applause at the instructor’s behest. The worst part was seeing the concern on the instructor’s face as Dante covered his ears with his hands and started humming.

As the other women and their children flowed out of the room, the instructor laid her hand on Lorna’s arm to hold her back. “Your son—Dante, isn’t it?—such a sweet, handsome boy. I know his disorder must be challenging. Please feel free to bring him to one of our ‘Yoga for the Special Child’ classes—”

Lorna stared at the woman. “What? I don’t get it.”

The instructor’s eyes deepened with the realization of Lorna’s cluelessness. “Oh! I thought Dante’s doctor may have referred you to our studio.”

“No! I heard a few moms rave about your program, and I thought it would be nice for our moms and tots group. I think everyone was fine with it.”

Everyone but Dante.

Lorna could tell the woman was thinking the very same thing.

At that moment, Lorna realized that Mallory was still in the studio, looking at the schedule posted on the wall. Had she overheard the conversation?

If so, that would ruin Dante’s acceptance into the PHM&T Club, where everything was perfect. His rejection into the club would be just the start of all the sad, bad things that could happen to him. It could ruin his life.

She could never let that happen. Ever.

Clutching Dante to her chest, she walked out the door without another word to the woman.

I have to find out if something is wrong with him, she thought as she strapped Dante into his car seat. No matter what it is, we’ll deal with it…

That woman mentioned a doctor who would know.

She waited until all the other mother’s cars had cleared the parking lot—Mallory’s included—before heading back inside, Dante in tow.

The instructor was making notes at the front desk. Her grin disappeared when she realized Lorna was back, and that she wasn’t smiling.

“What did you mean when you said you had classes for ‘special children’?” Lorna asked.

“We’ve developed a therapeutic yoga program for children with all kinds of developmental or learning disabilities: Autism, Cerebral Palsy, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, and Down's Syndrome. Yoga has been proven to increase the body awareness of such children.” The woman reached for a brochure and held it out to Lorna who hesitated to take it.

Could she be the right? Lorna thought. No, never…

Then why didn’t he smile more? Why wasn’t he more attentive when she talked to him?

She looked at her son. If the instructor was right, was she a bad mother for not realizing it earlier?

Lorna took it from the woman’s hand. “You mentioned a doctor who works with children with—with those disorders. Whom would that be?”

The woman opened the desk’s drawer and pulled out a business card:
 
David Remfeld M.D. Pediatric Neurology

She was relieved to see it wasn’t her own pediatrician, since her niece, Lily, was also her patient, as were most of the children in the PHM&T Club.

This afternoon she’d call Dr. Remfeld’s office for the first available appointment.

He would put all her qualms to rest.

Not that she had anything to worry about. Dante was perfect. Her little Renaissance man.
 
But just in case.

Tuesday, 30 October
 

Dr. Remfeld’s office within the UCSF Pediatric Autism and Neurology Clinic was painted in calming tones of pale greens and blues. The furniture was casual and well upholstered, similar to what one would find in an upscale resort. Colorful learning toys were scattered about in order to entice the children whose parents waited anxiously for assurance that their children were all right.

Had her mind not been so shocked at the results of Dante’s tests, had her heart not been breaking from the doctor’s assessment—that Dante would never feel joy or love like other children—Lorna might have certainly been more appreciative of the setting.

Well, now she knew why Dante was oblivious to it as well.

As the doctor explained that Dante’s tests had indicated autism, she realized all her hopes and dreams for him would never come true.

“He’s too young for us to determine the severity of his disorder.” Dr. Remfeld’s voice was soft and soothing for the life sentence he’d just delivered. “We’ll test him every three months. And there are simple exercises you can do with him that may strengthen his cognitive responses. These only improve his rote skills, but still—”

Lorna nodded, as if to show she understood what he was saying.

Did it matter? The bottom line was Dante didn’t belong.

He’d never belong. Anywhere.

She didn’t know how she was going to break that news to Matt.

Of course once she did, he’d tell Eleanor, his rock, his place for solace.

When that happened, Dante would no longer be her favorite.

And Bettina would use Dante’s affliction to kick them out of the club; to have him ostracized in the eyes of the other mothers and children.

Lorna couldn’t let that happen.

Now she had the most important reason in the world to stay on Bettina’s good side: for Dante’s sake.

She’d keep the news to herself. Even Matt couldn’t know. For now, anyway.

She’d wait for just the right time to tell him.

The thought that one could ever presume there might be a “right time” to hear your child had a neurological disorder that would keep him from living a normal life had her convulsing with laughter. By the time her hysteria gave way to tears and curses, a nurse was knocking on the door asking if there was anything she could do to help.

Lorna already knew the answer to that.

Wednesday, 31 October
 

As far as Bettina was concerned, the Halloween Party was an unmitigated disaster.

First off, most of the costumes were unimaginative. Trite even. If you’ve seen one fairy, you’ve seen them all, right? And not any one fairy can win a prize, or the others would expect one, too.

As the PHM&T group paraded along with the rest of the annual Union Street Halloween festival, it became obvious that the most imaginative costumes were those of the Probationary Onesies. Except for Quest’s little lamb get-up. It might have been organic and eco-friendly, but it was also
 
boring.

Bettina winced at the thought that their successes would make it even more difficult tomorrow when one of them would have to be cast aside.

If it were up to her, the loser would be Jade.

Not only did she have an awful sense of style, she was unimaginably naïve. How could she actually believe that Bettina liked her?

While it was fun to taunt the others with the favoritism she showed the Pierce woman, the simple fact of the matter was that snuggling up to Jade allowed her to get as close as possible to Brady Pierce.

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