Jane just nodded and kept eating, encouraging her to go on.
"My parents came to this country as adults, fleeing the onset of the so-called Cultural Revolution of which Dad would have been one of the first victims. My dad was a math professor, could speak English, and got a good job. Drove a Ford, bought a lawnmower, ate
Twinkies. But my mother was very old-country. She couldn't learn the language, thought Western clothes were ugly and immodest, hid in the house. I was so ashamed of her. Now I realize she must have been desperately ashamed of me. I wanted to be an American Girl. More American than Americans. Well, you saw the picture I showed you yesterday. I was grotesque."
Jane looked at Mimi, with her serenity, her style, her obvious acceptance of her heritage and wondered how the girl she described could have turned into this woman. So she asked.
"I was forced to take a course in Chinese history in college. My father said I had to or he wouldn't keep paying my tuition. I didn't understand him; he wasn't a Chinese 'patriot' like my mom. Anyway, I took the class and I started getting interested in spite of myself because I came across mention of a scientist with my mother's family name. I asked her about him and it turned out he was her uncle. I think it was the first time I'd even wondered about her as an individual with a family other than us. She knew a lot about him and his work, and as we talked, I realized for the first time that she knew something about a lot of things and was an interesting person. It was a stunning realization. One thing led to another and I actually joined a Chinese students' club and met my husband, who is third generation in this country, but aggressively Chinese, and well — here I am," she added.
"I'd say you turned out okay," Jane said.
"Thanks." Mimi suddenly looked embarrassed about having talked about herself.
"Tell me about the others. What about Beth?"
Mimi thought for a moment. "I don't know much about her now. The others say she's a big deal, but I
wasn't aware of it. She was sure an interesting person. Her mother was an over-the-hill hooker when they moved here. At least, that was the gossip. I think Beth was in about seventh grade then. Her mom had been reduced to taking in ironing to make a living."
"I thought Ewe Lambs were top drawer," Jane said.
"I guess she was the exception that proved the rule. Beth managed to disassociate herself from her mother even better than I did. Something must have clicked in her brain when she was very little. She decided to make herself Perfect, with a capital P. She was always immaculately well-groomed, a brilliant student, manners so good the rest of us looked like Neanderthals — I suppose we were, really. Somehow she managed to avoid ever being the subject of gossip. People snickered about her mother, but never about her. She had no really close friends that-I know of, but no enemies. She was nice to everybody, even the geeks. She baby-sat, gave piano lessons, had a paper route before girls did such things, and, in spite of all that, had the best grades in the school. It was really amazing and admirable. Besides all that, she dated the most popular guy. Ted Francisco. Dating Ted was probably the deciding factor in her selection for the Ewe Lambs. It would have made them look silly if Judge Francisco's son's girlfriend wasn't one of us."
"Dead Ted? Oh, dear. It must be very hard for her to stay here. Were they still dating when he died?"
Mimi nodded. "Until that night."
"What do you mean?"
"She broke up with him on Prom Night. He killed himself later that evening."
"Oh, my God!"
"It must have been unspeakably horrible for her," Mimi said. "She was right, of course. She'd gotten
into Stanford on a full scholarship and had already decided to be an attorney. Poor Ted barely squeaked into being accepted at a local junior college. Her mother was going to California with her. Beth and Ted were never going to cross paths again and she was sensible enough to realize they ought to make a clean break."
"And he killed himself over it! The bastard!" Mimi nodded again. "It wasn't the popular thing to think, but it's how I felt at the time, too. What's really ironic is that he hadn't exactly been 'true' to her anyway. He'd dated Pooky before he started going with Beth and he still flirted with her like mad. She was a stunning beauty at the time, but too stupid to realize he was making a fool of her. And he was great chums with Crispy, who was a neighbor and lifelong friend of the family. Crispy was a mess of a girl then and worshiped him. There were even rumors that he was seeing a girl from another school, so nobody expected that he'd take getting dumped so badly. But then, who can tell what's in anybody else's mind? Just yesterday Lila told me that Ted's father, who was a highly respected judge, had written a great recommendation letter for Beth and helped her get into Stanford, even though I very much doubt that the Franciscos thought she was good enough for their precious son. Meanwhile poor old Ted himself couldn't even get out of town."
"It sounds like you didn't like him very well." "Oh, I had a crush on him like everybody else at the time, even though he paid no attention to me. But no, I don't think in retrospect that I ever really
liked
him. He was spoiled and… well, somehow meanspirited. But that's an adult view. As a teenager, all I could see was his spectacular facade. Even Avalon — well,
you saw the drawing. She hung around making little sketches of him, his car, anything to do with him."
Jane took a sip of her drink and sat back, thinking. "Shelley originally said this place would have bad associations for the Ewe Lambs. I had no idea how bad. Was anybody
not
in love with Ted Francisco?"
"Of this group? Probably not. Lila went out with him once or twice between Pooky's and Beth's reigns and later claimed she'd refused any more dates with him, but he told everybody how dull she was, so I imagine it was his choice, not hers. I think she came to actively dislike him, but it was a love-hate thing. Oh, there's Kathy. I don't think Kathy ever gave him much of a thought except to consider him part of the capitalist pig army she was devoted to eradicating. She wouldn't have gone out with any male who didn't have a beard and long hair and a dirty T-shirt with something obscene written on it."
"I know something that will surprise you about her," Jane said, and explained what she and Crispy had found in Kathy's purse."… so apparently she's quite well-off," she finished the account. "I didn't mean to snoop, but when I saw the watch and ring and the checkbook with that balance__"
"I'd have snooped, too," Mimi said. "How fascinating."
"Crispy says the rule of reunions is that nobody is what they seem to be."
"Almost nobody," Mimi agreed. "I haven't the imagination to invent a persona for myself."
"I wonder who Crispy really is," Jane said.
Mimi laughed. "God only knows! She's deliberately put on so many layers of charming, utterly fake personality that there's no telling what's underneath."
"And Lila? Who was Lila?" Jane asked.
Kathy came slouching in and sprawled in the chair next to Jane. "Are you going to finish that sandwich? May I have it?
"Sure, help yourself," Jane said, noticing now that the watch and ring line and condition of her hands were truly obvious when you knew to look.
"I'm telling Jane a little bit about all of us," Mimi said. "I'm trying to think how to describe Lila."
In competition with everybody," Kathy mumbled through a big bite of sandwich.
"You're right. I never thought about it that way, but that's what was so irritation about her back in high school," Mimi said, obviously surprised at Kathy being so on-target. "Not only in competition, but thinking she was winning every round and constantly talking about her imagined victories. She had better clothes than anybody, a better hairdresser, better grades — except for Beth, of course — and far better breeding."
"All those Adamses she was always shooting off her mouth about," Kathy said, reaching over and polishing off Jane's drink.
Mimi smiled. "I remember. She was always trying to knock us out with the fact that she was related to John Adams and we couldn't have caren't less. Now, if she'd been related to Mick Jagger—"
"Lila?" Kathy laughed.
Mimi went on, "Naturally, Beth drove her wild. Beth was not only genuinely better at everything, but she was gracious about it and Lila coudn't stand it. They both decided to run for president of the Ewe Lambs our senior year and when Beth found out, she withdrew, saying she didn't like to compete with a friend. Lila, of course, thought she was being patronized and Beth really meant she didn't want to embarrass her by beating her. Which was probably
true. It infuriated Lila. She was such a fool."
"Is that why she was niggling at Beth about that Supreme Court thing last night?" Jane asked.
"That and general nastiness," Mimi said. "She was really a very bitter, unhappy person. God knows ___ She had every advantage you'd think anybody could want. Yes, she probably still felt she was in competition with Beth and as it looked like Beth was way in front, she had to drag her back. I'd like to meet the person who could really find out anything bad about Beth. It's just not possible."
"Oh, I don't know. She probably has some skeleton in her closet. Everybody does, " Kathy said.
"You're just saying that because she's a judge and you're a rebel," Mimi said with a smile.
"Yeah, sure I am—" Kathy sat up and looked straight at Jane. "I've been meanong to mention to you that you did a nice job of cleaning up my room. Even the contents of my purse are neat and tidy."
10
"I didn't want all of you to know how I'd failed," Kathy was weeping noisily five minutes later.
Mimi sat on the arm of Kathy's chair, patting her shoulder and making sympathetic noises. "You're hardly a failure, Kathy. We all grow up and change. There's nothing shameful about that. In fact, it's a good thing we don't have to stay what we were as teenagers all our lives."
"But most of you changed for the better. All I accomplished was to just marry a man who invented a gadget that made us rich. Beth's a big-deal judge, probably going to end up on the Supreme Court someday, for God's sake! Crispy got pretty and stylish and funny. You're gorgeous and happy with yourself."
"I don't mean to be catty, but there
is
Pooky," Mimi said with a smile she obviously hoped would help diffuse Kathy's emotions.
"Pooky!" Kathy snorted. "She's too stupid to walk and chew gum at the same time. Nobody'd expect anything of her. Why, even that strung-out loser Avalon's got a mob of foster kids, with handicaps yet, and she's kept her looks, too, dammit. It's not fair. All I've got is thirty extra pounds, a seven-bedroom house, and four spoiled brats. My oldest son has his own Ferrari. Hell! I should have made something of myself. Of my kids. Of the world. I wanted to, I really did. I had the brains and the drive and the ideals. And then Harold patented that damned computer hardware thing—"
"What kind of computer thing?" Jane asked..
Kathy wailed. "I don't even know! A chip conductor or a floppy cable or something stupid! At first I tried to talk him into giving the money away. There was so damned much of it. Set up an environmental trust, I said. Make your name live in history. Like Edison, but with a social conscience. But he told me we had to think of the kids and he was right. I could see the justice in that. So he told me if I'd invest for them for five years, then he wouldn't object if I gave the rest away. And so I learned all about the stock market—"
"And you were good at it?" Jane guessed. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Beth had come inside and was standing quietly by the doors to the patio. Hector was still with her, but when he spotted Jane, he made a Decline for her lap. He landed with a solid thud. Jane obligingly scratched the top of his head.
"Good at it?" Kathy said, "I'm a goddamned wizard! I couldn't lose money if I tried. I
don't
invest in South Africa though!" She looked around at them defiantly.
"No, of course not," Mimi murmured, smiling over Kathy's head at Jane.
"— and pretty soon the five years had become six and I couldn't stop. I can't even blame Harold. It wasn't his fault. It was my own! I got greedy! I sold out! And I'm nothing now but your average rich bitch. I've turned into my
mother!"
Her voice rose to nearly a shriek.
"You're hardly average, Kathy," Beth said from where she'd been listening at the French doors. She
came in and sat down, but kept a safe distance, probably for fear of being cried on. "You don't know this, but you and I have a friend in common who's kept me up on you. He tells me that you know more about the pharmaceutical industry than anybody he's ever heard of. He says
Barton's
and the
Wall Street Journal
consult with you before they comment on medical matters."
"You knew all along?" Kathy said, smirking a little at the compliment and sniffling revoltingly into a tissue that Mimi had handed her.
"I'm afraid so."
"So did Crispy," Jane said softly. "At least she knew you were rich."
"What did she do, help you search my room?" Kathy asked nastily.
"I
wasn't
searching your room. I explained that to you." No point in adding that Crispy had, indeed, gone through her billfold. It wasn't relevant. "She knew because of your hands."
"My hands?" Kathy looked at them as if they didn't belong to her. "So damned near everybody knew. Beth, Crispy, Lila—"
"Lila knew?" Mimi asked.
"Oh, sure. That snoopy bitch knew everything. She used to be married to a private detective, she said. She bragged about how she was able to find out practically anything about anybody. Give me that cat!"
Hector allowed himself to be transferred and hugged fiercely.
"She told you this here?" Jane asked.
"Yes, yesterday afternoon," Kathy said, petting Hector in a manner that almost qualified as mauling. Hector brbrmeowed happily. "She was leading up to a little ever-so-ladylike blackmail. Her with her frumpy clothes and her DAR membership."