you noticed the storefronts: Tiffany, rag & bone, Baccarat, Alice and Olivia, Joie, Vince, Theory. One of the only mom-and-pop stores sold and serviced fur coats. Range Rovers and Audi SUVs occupied at least fifty percent of the metered spots.
But soon they were past it and weaving through the more rural part of town, on the outskirts closer to Bedford, to a pretty street that snaked through the woods. Miriam turned onto a road with a very small and subtle ‘private’ sign and followed it up and over a steep hill, then down into a more densely wooded area until the woods cleared to reveal a gorgeous, sprawling estate. A handsome valet who looked more like he belonged on a surfboard than in a uniform materialized at the driver’s side and took Miriam’s keys.
‘Now we’re talking!’ Emily said, staring. ‘Who did you say this was for?’
‘One of the moms in Maisie’s class. Just had her fourth baby. I don’t really know her, but my co-room mom, Ashley, is organizing it, and she invited me.’
‘I’m no expert, but I thought you didn’t get a shower after baby number one.’
‘It’s not a shower. It’s a viewing. Plus, this is Greenwich, where we embrace all excuses to drink during the day.’
A heavyset woman in black pants and a pressed white shirt opened the front door as they approached. Emily took one look at the maid’s uniform, turned to Miriam, and raised her eyebrows.
They were escorted through a sprawling kitchen and into the most spectacular greenhouse, a massive room with a glass ceiling and all-glass walls that overlooked acres of snow-covered backyard. Exotic cacti and tropical plants in hand-painted planters; succulents of all shapes and sizes; orchids and birds-of-paradise in bright bursts of color. Among all this natural beauty, sixty or so of the most meticulously put-together women Miriam had ever seen lounged on upholstered chaises, perched on sofa backs, stood in groups of three and four, and sipped mimosas and Bloody Marys, each looking like her own version of perfection with a glossy blowout and an outfit just like Emily’s. More attractive waiters floated around refilling drinks and offering fruit skewers and Greek-yogurt mini-parfaits and other assorted carb-free goodies. The decorations were shades of pink, but nothing else was baby-themed: not a diaper or a baby bottle in sight.
‘I feel like we just stepped into an episode of Housewives,’ Emily hissed. ‘Only without all the screaming. And with much better taste.’
Before Miriam could respond, her co-room mom, Ashley, bounded over, an absolute vision of perkiness: perky blond bob, perky boobs, perky smile. Veneered teeth. Pretty in a girl-next-door way and just stylish enough not to be intimidating in a short dress with ankle booties and a cropped leather jacket. Her diamonds were gorgeous without being ostentatious, her tan was just right, and her perfume was detectable but not overwhelming. She seemed so happy.
‘Miriam! I’m so glad you could make it!’ Then, turning to Emily but without a hint of disapproval, she said, ‘Hi there, I’m Ashley. I don’t think we’ve met.’
Miriam started to explain why she’d brought an uninvited friend, but Emily turned on her own beaming smile. ‘Ashley! Miriam has told me so much about you. She said you’re showing her the ropes with … everything. I’m Emily Charlton. I’m visiting from L.A., and Miriam took pity on me sitting at home alone and invited me along. I hope you don’t mind?’
Ashley appeared thunderstruck. ‘Wait. You’re Emily Charlton? Not the Emily Charlton?’
Miriam tried not to laugh as she watched Emily’s face transform from fake happiness to genuine joy. ‘Do we know each other?’ she asked with faux humility.
‘No, no! I mean, of course you don’t know me,’ Ashley said, looking flustered for the first time Miriam had ever seen. ‘But I’m very into fashion – not that you can tell by this old thing – and, well, I have totally followed your career from your Runway days. I think it’s just incredible what you’ve done for Kim Kelly. She was a hot mess before she met you!’
Miriam noticed Emily’s jaw tighten at Kim’s name. This could very easily take a turn for the worse. Quickly, before Emily could say anything appalling, Miriam grabbed her by the arm. ‘Ashley, we’ll be right back. I want to introduce her to the guest of honor.’ She yanked Emily to the other side of the room and shot her a warning look. ‘Best behavior,’ she said in a low voice.
‘Yes, Mom,’ Emily said. ‘But you can’t keep me from my adoring fans forever.’
The sound of a utensil clinking against crystal interrupted them. ‘Ladies! It’s that time!’ Ashley called out, beaming.
Everyone held aloft a drink and clinked. Miriam heard a woman behind her say quietly to another, ‘She spun for a girl with number three, and when that didn’t work, she had in vitro with this one. Why are we all acting like this is some sort of big surprise?’
‘Let’s have Christina open her gifts,’ Ashley announced. ‘Chris, which would you like to start with?’
Everyone turned to the gift table, which was surprisingly sparse. Miriam counted exactly three gifts, one of which she knew to be her own.
Christina ripped the card off the first box, which was wrapped in the most beautiful floral paper and tied with a bunch of live peonies. She read the card and, after announcing it was from her mother-in-law, opened the package to reveal a sterling silver rattle, baby spoon, and sippy cup.
‘And they’re engraved with Rose’s name,’ a thin woman in a Chanel skirt suit announced from her seat.
Christina blew her a kiss and then opened the second gift. ‘Oh, Marta, you shouldn’t have!’ she squealed, holding up a generic hooded-towel-and-washcloth set trimmed in itchy-looking pink lace. She motioned for the uniformed maid who had greeted the guests at the front door to enter the room, and the woman shyly approached. ‘I love it. Thank you so much!’ The housekeeper bent down for an awkward hug and then scurried away. Christina handed it off to Ashley. It was not monogrammed. It was not woven from Egyptian cotton. It did not orginate in a French boutique. Even Miriam knew the chances that the towel or washcloth would ever so much as graze an inch of that baby’s skin were nil.
‘Here you go,’ Ashley chirped, handing over the last wrapped box: Miriam’s.
Christina quickly unwrapped it and revealed the contents to the crowd. Two pink onesies with zippers – Miriam had loved the zippers instead of snaps with her own babies – a coordinating newborn hat, and a pair of furry pink booties. ‘Oh, how precious. I love it! Miriam, thank you – that was so sweet.’
Christina seemed to appreciate and admire the outfit, and Miriam felt a wave of relief that she had chosen well. But where were everyone else’s gifts? Why was it only Miriam, the mother-in-law, and the maid?
A hush fell over the room. Christina looked eager, anticipatory.
‘Okay, ladies! The moment you’ve all been waiting for. It’s time for the group present!’ Ashley called as though she were the head cheerleader at a football game.
Only then did Miriam notice a gigantic pink sheet thrown over something large in the corner. A baby swing, she figured. Probably one of those new high-tech ones that you could control with your phone through an app and have it link to Spotify. Who knew these days? It could come with a camera or an aromatherapy diffuser, for all she knew.
‘So, this is from the rest of us,’
