Brownie Points by Jennifer Coburn Read Free Book Online

evil cackle, but an honest-to-goodness amused, albeit somewhat condescending, chuckle. “Lisa, try not to worry so much. What doesn’t kill them makes them stronger,” she said, holding my shoulder as if she were dispensing words of wise consolation.
    Michelle rang a crystal bell, signaling it was time to start the game.
    “How’d it go?” Barb asked as I returned from my corner.
    “That woman is out of her mind,” I said without filtering.
    “You should’ve seen her before the Paxil,” she said with a wink as we walked to our tables of four.
    My neighbor from across the street, Marni, was sporting so many pearls it almost looked as if she were wearing a housewife costume. In a flash she gave me a moment of hope that there was more to her than met the eye. When she helped Michelle and reached for coffee cups, she revealed a small tattoo of a cute yellow chick on her lower back that appeared to have writing beneath it. Intrigued, I tried to read it, but when her arms came down, so did the curtain.
    Bunco was—as Michelle had explained—a ridiculously easy dice game that women used as an excuse to get together. Though it was a game of chance, I did notice Val trying to increase her odds of rolling “two-sies” by rolling faster. It made sense. The more often she rolled the dice the better her chances of getting the combinations she needed. “So, how are you finding Utopia?” Val asked, her eyes focused intensely on the dice.
    “It’s great,” I lied.
    “It’s a perfect place to raise kids,” she said as if it were a fact rather than her opinion.
    “In many ways,” I replied, but she did not press further.
    “And your husband is the new fire captain.”
    I nodded and smiled. “Yes, he’s very excited about the position.”
    “He must be,” she said.
    “What about you, Val? What do you do?” I asked.
    “What doesn’t Val do?” Stacey answered for her. “She’s the room mom in all four of her children’s classes, runs the hospital auxiliary and heads the CC&Rs committee.”
    Val gave a slight laugh that suggested she was both pleased with the public relations while also a bit contemptuous of Stacey’s idol worship. “My kids are a full-time job.”
    “Totally,” Stacey said, nodding emphatically.
    Ellie Post, not wanting to let too long go by before she fanned Val with her verbal palm leaf, said, “There’s so much we can give them at this age.”
    “Absolutely,” I said, but must not have been entirely convincing because Ellie told me, “We’ve got the rest of our lives to do our own thing.” They all nodded.
    I agreed that mothers had their hands full raising children, and that in doing so their time was invested well. But these women seemed to jump on the evangelical bandwagon so quickly without any regard for how I might have felt about the issue. It was as if they wanted to make their positions known before I had any time to establish mine.
    “Oh,” I said. “I kind of feel like doing our own thing is giving something to the kids.” Shut up, Lisa. Don’t think you’re going to end the Mommy Wars with an argument they’ve already heard and rejected. “I mean, I totally want to be there for my children, but I want them to see me doing other things too.” Olive branch, think olive branch. “Like you, Val. I’m sure your kids think it’s great that you run that hospital auxiliary.”
    “Oh, please,” Val dismissed. “The head of plastic surgery is retiring next year and if I don’t do my time at the hospital, Blake will never get the gig. That’s how that damn hospital gets half its volunteer hours, all of us wives jockeying for our husbands. Between the charity events and parties at the house, I feel like I earn most of his salary.” The others giggled knowingly.
    I wondered who jockeyed for the female doctors. There were women physicians at Los Corderos General, weren’t there? There weren’t any women firefighters, I realized. Instead, I said, “Well, it’s