Where'd You Go, Bernadette: A Novel (2 page)

Cheers,

Ollie-O

Tom,

I was out in my garden, cutting back the perennials and planting some winter color in preparation for a school brunch we’re hosting on December 11. I went to turn the compost and got attacked by blackberry vines.

I’m shocked to see that they have returned, not only in the compost pile, but in my raised vegetable beds, greenhouse, and even my worm
bin. You can imagine my frustration, especially since you charged me a small fortune to remove them three weeks ago. (Maybe $235 isn’t a lot for you, but it’s a lot for us.)

Your flyer said you guarantee your work. So, please, could you come back and remove all the blackberries by the 11th, this time for good?

I did remove the blackberries on your property. The source of the vines you’re talking about is your neighbor’s house at the top of the hill. Their blackberries are the ones coming under your fence and into your garden.

To stop them, we could dig a trench at your property line and pour a concrete barrier, but it would need to be five feet deep, and that would be costly. You could also keep on top of them with weed killer, which I’m not sure you want to do because of the worms and the vegetables.

What really has to happen is the neighbor at the top of the hill has to eradicate their vines. I’ve never seen so many blackberries growing wild in the city of Seattle, especially on Queen Anne Hill, with your home prices. I saw a house on Vashon Island where the whole foundation was cracked by blackberry vines.

Since the neighbor’s bushes are on a steep hillside, they’re going to need a special machine. The best one is the CXJ Hillside Side-Arm Thrasher. I don’t have one of those myself.

Another option, and a better one in my opinion, is large pigs. You can rent a couple, and in a week’s time, they’ll pull out those blackberries by the roots and then some. Plus, they’re dang cute.

Do you want me to talk to the neighbor? I can go knock on the door. But it looks like nobody lives there.

Let me know.

Tom

From: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal

To: Audrey Griffin

Audrey,

I told you I’m starting to take the shuttle bus in to work, right? Well, guess who I rode in with this morning? Bernadette’s husband, Elgin Branch. (I know why
I
have to save money by taking the Microsoft Connector. But Elgin Branch?) I wasn’t certain it was him at first, that’s how little we all see of him at school.

So you’re going to love this. There was only one seat available, and it was next to Elgin Branch, an inside one between him and the window.

“Excuse me,” I said.

He was furiously typing on his laptop. Without looking up, he moved his knees to the side. I know he’s a Level 80 corporate VP, and I’m just an admin. But most gentlemen would stand up to let a woman through. I squeezed past him and sat down.

“Looks like we’re going to finally be getting some sunshine,” I said.

“That would be great.”

“I’m really looking forward to World Celebration Day,” I said. He looked a little frightened, like he had no idea who I was. “I’m Lincoln’s mom. From Galer Street.”

“Of course!” he said. “I’d love to chat, but I’ve got to get this email out.” He grabbed some headphones from around his neck, put them over his ears, and returned to his laptop. And get this—his headphones
weren’t even plugged in! They were those sound-canceling ones! The whole ride to Redmond he never spoke to me again.

Now, Audrey, for the past five years we always figured Bernadette was the ghastly one. Turns out her husband is as rude and antisocial as she is! I was so miffed that when I got to work, I Googled Bernadette Fox. (Something I can’t believe I’ve waited until now to do, considering our unhealthy obsession with her!) Everyone knows Elgin Branch is team leader of Samantha 2 at Microsoft. But when I looked
her
up, nothing appeared. The only Bernadette Fox is some architect in California. I checked all combinations of her name—Bernadette Branch, Bernadette Fox-Branch. But our Bernadette, Bee’s mom, doesn’t exist as far as the Internet is concerned. Which, these days, is quite an accomplishment in itself.

On another topic, don’t you love Ollie-O? I was crushed when Microsoft ten-percented him last year. But if that hadn’t happened, we’d never have been able hire him to rebrand our little school.

Here at Microsoft, SteveB just called a town hall for the Monday after Thanksgiving. The rumor mill is going crazy. My PM asked me to book a meeting room for the hours just prior, and I’m hard-pressed to find one. That can mean only one thing: another round of layoffs. (Happy holidays!) Our team leader heard some scuttlebutt that our project was getting canceled, so he found the biggest email thread he could, wrote “Microsoft is a dinosaur whose stock is going to zero,” then hit Reply All. Never a good thing. Now I’m worried they’re going to punish the whole org and that I won’t land well. Or I might not land at all! What if that meeting room I booked was for my own firing?

Oh, Audrey, please keep me, Alexandra, and Lincoln in your prayers. I don’t know what I’d do if I got managed out. The benefits here are gold-plated. If I still have a job after the holidays, I’ll be happy to cover some of the food costs for the prospective parent brunch.

You’d
think
nobody lives in that big old haunted house above us, judging by the state of their yard. In fact, someone does. Their daughter, Bee, is in Kyle’s class at Galer Street. I’d be thrilled to raise the subject of her blackberry bushes with the mother at pickup today.

Pigs? No pigs. Do take some chard, though.

From: Bernadette Fox

To: Manjula Kapoor

I’m ecstatic you said yes!!! I’ve signed and scanned everything. Here’s the deal with Antarctica. It will be three of us, so get two rooms. Elgie has a ton of miles on American, so let’s try for three tickets that way. Our winter break dates are December 23 through January 5. If we have to miss a little school, that’s fine. And the dog! We must find someplace willing to board a 130-pound, perpetually damp dog. Ooh—I’m late picking up Bee at school. Again, THANK YOU.

Word has spread about the incident at pickup yesterday. Luckily, nobody was hurt. But it gives us the opportunity to pause and revisit the rules outlined in the Galer Street handbook. (Italics mine.)

Section 2A. Article ii. There are two ways to pick up students.

By Car: Drive your vehicle to the school entrance. Please be mindful not to block the loading dock for Sound Seafood International.

On Foot: Please park in the north lot and meet your children on the canal path.
In the spirit of safety and efficiency, we ask that parents on foot do not approach the drive-up area.

It always inspires me that we have such a wonderful community of parents who are so engaged with one another. However, the safety of our students is always top priority. So let’s use what happened to Audrey Griffin as a teachable moment, and remember to save our conversations for coffee, not the driveway.

From: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal

To: Audrey Griffin

I heard Bernadette tried to run you over at pickup! Are you OK? Should I come by with dinner? WHAT HAPPENED?

From: Audrey Griffin

To: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal

It’s all true. I needed to talk to Bernadette about her blackberry bushes, which are growing down her hill, under my fence, and invading my garden. I was forced to hire a specialist, who said Bernadette’s blackberries are going to destroy the foundation of my home.

Naturally, I wanted to have a friendly chat with Bernadette. So I walked up to her car while she was in the pickup line. Mea culpa! But how else are you ever going to get a word with that woman? She’s like Franklin Delano Roosevelt. You see her only from the waist up, driving past. I don’t think she has once gotten out of her car to walk Bee into school.

I tried talking to her, but her windows were rolled up and she pretended not to see me. You’d think she was the first lady of France, with her silk scarf flung just so and huge dark glasses. I knocked on her windshield, but she drove off.

Over my foot! I went to the emergency room and got an incompetent doctor, who refused to accept that there was anything wrong with me.

Honestly, I don’t know who I’m more furious at, Bernadette Fox or
Gwen Goodyear, for calling me out in the Friday Folder. You’d think
I
did something wrong! And mentioning me, but not Bernadette, by name! I created the Diversity Council. I invented Donuts for Dads. I wrote Galer Street’s mission statement, which that fancy company in Portland was going to charge us ten thousand dollars for.

Maybe Galer Street is happy renting in an industrial park. Maybe Galer Street doesn’t want the stability of owning its new campus. Maybe Gwen Goodyear would like me to cancel the Prospective Parent Brunch. I have a call in to her now. I’m not the least bit happy.

The phone is ringing. It’s her.

This is to clarify that Bernadette Fox, Bee Branch’s mother, was driving the vehicle that ran over the other parent’s foot. I hope you all had a wonderful weekend despite the rain.