Keep Your Mouth Shut and Wear Beige Read Online Free Page A

slanted handwriting, and her stationery was thick and flecked.
    She first praised Jeremy, saying how much they liked and admired him. Then she spoke about being eager to meet me, hoping that Zack and I could join them for a weekend at their place on Long Island this fall, possibly Columbus Day. She also hoped that I would understand that she couldn’t be firm about the day. She still had two children at home, and she wanted to wait until after she got their school calendars before making too definite a commitment.
    It was a perfect letter, flattering without being effusive, politely formal but with the right down-to-earth touch about the school calendars.
    I’m suspicious of people who can write perfect letters. It gives them a weapon the rest of us don’t have. Furthermore, I’ve never had much luck with girls who have pretty handwriting and nice stationery. I was never a part of the giggling cluster that gathered around the most popular girl’s locker.
    But Rose Zander-Brown and I weren’t girls. We were two women, two mothers, and the stakes weren’t what we were going to wear to the dance Friday night, but the most precious thing ever, our children.
    I’m not one to “borrow trouble.” My normal workday is full of plenty all on its own, but occasionally I’ll start my shift with a bad feeling about a piece of equipment.
You’re not going to work right today, are you?
I wasn’t always right, but considering that I’d had no evidence for my suspicion, it was surprising how often I was. I had that feeling now. I fingered the letter; the paper was soft with a feathered edge and a roughened pebbly surface.
What kind of trouble are you going to cause me?
    It didn’t answer.
     

     
A
      lthough Zack had first attended Selwyn, where Jeremy had gone, he was now at the Alden School, about to start his senior year. The school had originally been a prim all-girls school, and in those days the first day of school had been marked by the Senior Entrance. The seniors, clad in floaty white dresses, had swept swanlike into the orangerie of the aging mansion while the younger girls applauded admiringly. But since the school had started admitting boys, the event had lost every shred of dignity. The seniors charged into the high-school gym while the underclassmen hooted and cheered.
    Each year the Entrance has a theme. It’s supposed to be top secret. Maybe some of the moms who were at the school all the time knew what it was, but I wasn’t one of them. So as soon as Zack got home from school the Tuesday after Labor Day, I asked him about it.
    “We kept it simple,” he answered and flipped up one of the straps of his backpack. Pinned to it was a round, white, political-campaign-style button; SENIOR YEAR: ALL TOO BRIEF .
    “I don’t get it,” I said.
    “We ran in in our underwear.”
    I love high-school kids. “Good thing you wear boxers, not briefs.”
    He grinned. “A surprising number of girls seem to too.”
    “I bet that was a disappointment.”
    “Yeah, and then Mr. G. said that all the girls had to wear something on top, even the ones who don’t usually wear bras. The debate team tried to argue that that was sexist, but it was a no-go.”
    “Mr. G.” was Chris Goddard, the headmaster of the entire school; the high-school kids interacted with him more than they did with their own principal. “There are laws about indecent exposure,” I pointed out. I wished that we could talk like this forever. We were facing a year of constant nagging—SAT prep, college essays, senior projects. First-semester senior year hadn’t been fun even with our dutiful Jeremy; it was going to be a nightmare with Zack. “Don’t forget we have that meeting with the college counselor tomorrow.”
    He made a face. “Is Dad coming?”
    “Of course.”
    He scooped up his backpack. “We had another theme before this one. ‘Senior Year: It’s All Hype.’ ”
    “I don’t get that one either.”
    “HYPe. Capital H, Capital Y,