Laundry

The sun was about halfway down the afternoon sky, and the late-summer mugginess was nearly visible. The vague hum of suburban noise lingered here and there on this hazy late July day. Susan pointed the nozzle of the hose at a withering hydrangea, fuming, absolutely certain that something was going on with Sam and Lila. She nearly tripped over the cedar stump when she put the hose back. She and Sam had the tree cut when they bought the house; it had been almost completely choked with wisteria and was a threat to the house. Susan had been more upset about losing the wisteria than the tree. The purple blossoms looked like grapes to her, so pretty in the spring sky.

Teresa and Cathy arrived together, but Laura was running late.

“Let’s get this party started,” Cathy sang as she sashayed through the foyer, a fifth of Hendricks in one hand and a Publix bag of limes and tonic water in the other. Clearly, Teresa had not shared the goal of this gathering with Cathy. Susan gave her a level look and grabbed the gin out of her hand.

Daisy Jill, Sam and Susan’s shih tzu, scampered into the kitchen, nearly tripping Teresa, who scooped her up into her arms for some doggie kisses.

“Gross!” Cathy practically screamed, “How can you make out with other species?” She shuddered, then started cutting up the limes.

“Where’s Laura?” Teresa flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder.

Cathy chimed in, "What’s this detective mission, Susie?”

Susan sank onto a bar stool and leaned her rectangular body forward, resting her chin on one propped hand and gave her friends a forlorn look. “I think something is going on between Sam and Lila.”

“Shit! Pour this girl a drink, Cathy. Maybe a shot first,” Teresa came around the island, bangles jingling on her wrist as she wrapped her arms around her best friend.

“Wait—,” Cathy followed Teresa’s instructions, pausing with the bottle of gin in midair, “isn’t Lila still married and in Charlotte?”

The sun, steadily descending through the haze, hit the crisis point, and shards of light came through the French doors like swords in the early evening. Cathy poured the shot, then began constructing three tall gin and tonics.

“Well, yes,” Susan began, “but I know they’re still talking, and he’s been so distant lately.

“Did you ever find out what their whole history is?” Teresa chimed in, stirring her drink with the knife Cathy used to cut the limes.

Susan shook her head, “He doesn’t like talking about her, clams up whenever I ask about their past. All he says is that they were together in high school, but it fell apart.”

“You’ve been married nearly fifteen years and that’s all he has to say about his daughter’s mother? That’s weird.

Susan remembered her conversation with Lila, when she felt the ground shift beneath her as she realized that Sam and Lila had significant history. In a feeble attempt to bring back terra firma, voice teeming with desperation, she pleaded, “Just tell me it was only the one time.”

The ice in Lila’s eyes dropped off the Celsius scale, freezing down into Kelvin , and she gave Susan a frosty, withering glare.. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied, turned on her heel, got in her car, and sped away. Although it made no sense to her, Susan felt Lila’s contempt. After that, she never could quite shake the feeling that she’d somehow put something irreversible in motion.

Because Susan wanted to preserve her fantasy that Lila wasn’t an important person in Sam’s life, she hadn’t pressed for more information. . . She continued to believe that Sam reacted whenever Lila was mentioned because he secretly hated her. Lila was such a mystery to Susan; their mutual acquaintances had different opinions about Lila with only a few consistencies— she was wickedly smart, with a scathing sense of humor, and she was really slutty before she got pregnant with Tate. None of that comforted Susan whatsoever.

Cathy and Teresa exchanged a look behind Susan’s back, and Teresa began chattering about Susan’s kitchen, complimenting the owl theme that resonated throughout the house. “I especially like the napkins,” she lifted a bird-printed linen napkin to her face and dabbed the corners of her mouth with it.

“Good grief, Teresa,” Cathy rolled her eyes and took a sip of her fresh cocktail, “you’re about as observant as the average dude. She’s had those forever, like longer than this house.”

Susan turned and looked at the napkin in Teresa’s hand then took a deep breath.

“What?” Teresa’s eyes jumped back and forth between Susan and Cathy, trying to figure out why the temperature in the room suddenly dropped.

“They were a wedding gift,” Susan gathered her long, expensively blonde hair over her left shoulder and took a long sip of her drink, “from Lila.”

Cathy whooped and did a double take. “I didn’t know that. Why haven’t you burned them?”

A storm gathered on Susan’s face and her voice deepened as she explained, “Sam and I opened all of the gifts together. He knows they’re from her, so . . .” she trailed off.

“So you have them on the table? That’s crazy! Why didn’t you lose them in the move?”

Teresa put the napkin down in the puddle of lime juice on the cutting board resting beside her. “How about some music?”

Susan bolted down the hall to the bathroom.

“Uh-oh, it’s going to be that kind of night.” Cathy took her drink into the beige living room and sank into the khaki sofa, dutifully placing it on the oak coffee table. “What do you think, should we go ahead and take a peek?”

Teresa followed her and placed a coaster under her drink before placing her own atop another. “Hmm, I don’t know. She may get upset if we see something before she does. Last to know and all that.”

“Wait, what? You think we’re going to find something?” Cathy sat up straight, laser focusing on Teresa’s face.

“You know how weird he is about her, right? And have you ever been in the same room with them? There’s a definite . . . energy between them.”

Somewhere a few streets over, a dog began to howl, and then another joined in, the baying spreading mournfully throughout the neighborhood until it was in the living room, Daisy Jill joining in for the chorus. Teresa reached down and scratched behind her ears. “It’s a good thing I didn’t bring Bandit. Once you get him going, he doesn’t stop. He’s probably driving my neighbors crazy right now.”

Cathy was the only one of the group who didn’t have a dog. “Don’t bring anything alive into my house,” was what she told everyone, “not even a plant.” Cut flowers were okay, as someone else had already killed them.

The sun began to set in earnest, and Teresa switched on the lamps on the end tables as well as a floor lamp and reopened the blinds as Susan made her way back to the living room.

“You okay?” Cathy asked.

“I think so, but all of this stress is aggravating my entire system.” Susan suffered from ulcerative colitis, and it was a sensitive subject.

“Well, let’s put this stress to rest. I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about.”

They settled in on the sofa with Susan’s iPad, and she pulled up Sam’s email. His inbox looked pretty clean, no emails from Lila.

“See, there’s nothing there,” Cathy smiled all around. “Let’s put the iPad down and have an 80s dance party!”

“Wait,” Teresa interjected. “We haven’t checked his sent folder.”

Susan tapped on the link, and almost every message was to [email protected].

“Oh, shit.” Cathy looked over Susan’s shoulder at the archive of emails. “Some of them have attachments. Open one.”

Susan jumped up, knocking over the drinks, and dashed for the bathroom. Cathy and Teresa got paper towels and cleaned up the mess, then made fresh drinks.

Cathy perched on a stool and asked Teresa what she thought of Lila.

“I’ve never known what to think of Lila, “ Teresa began.

“Have you ever been at a party with her?” Cathy jumped back in. “I have. Several times.”

“Well, yeah. You and I were both at that party when she hooked up with some guy in that room with the door that didn’t lock.”

“I had forgotten about that, but, oh shit—that was Sam that she hooked up with!” Cathy’s eyes doubled in size, and she stirred her drink and gave Teresa a look. “But you know how she is.”

“If you’re talking about her, uh, enthusiasm for one-night relationships, yeah, but that was over twenty years ago, before she met Matthew.”

“She’s never been shy about pursuing a guy. Like ever. And she and Sam have had a thing on the side before. More than once. Remember, she had Tatum ten months after he married his first wife. And they still look at each other like they’re dying for each other.”

A pine branch scratched against the windows of the vacant house next door, and everyone in the room, including the dog, shivered at the scraping sound.

Teresa stared into her glass, momentarily entranced by the wedge of lime, still in the squeezed position, as it revolved in the eddy from her stirring. “You don’t think they’re actually seeing each other, do you? When would they have time?”

“Most professors only teach two or three days a week.” Cathy reminded her. “If Lila wants to see Sam, she’ll find time and a way.”

Susan emerged from the bathroom and lit the scented candles on the coffee table and end tables. Presently, a slightly chemical aroma of sugar cookies made itself known.

“Let’s open some of those emails.” Susan planted herself in the center of the couch, iPad in hand. They were an assortment peering into the iPad: bleached blonde, plump Susan flanked by rail-thin, auburn Cathy and athletic, brunette Teresa.

“Start with one with a large attachment–more likely to be photos or videos,” Cathy coached.

Moths banged into the French doors, drawn by the light in the room, and several varieties of beetle buzzed and banged around the light, soft and blurry, its heat halo hazing into the muggy night.

Susan opened the email with the largest attachment and discovered that Lila was sending Sam pictures of their grandson.

“Oh my God, he’s adorable!” Teresa gushed, earning her a venomous look from Susan.

Cathy’s phone chimed, alerting her to a text message. “Laura’s on her way. She wants to know if she should bring anything. I’m telling her to bring more gin, tonic, and limes. Y’all want any food?”

“No. I’m not hungry.” Susan’s tone revealed that she wasn’t a lot of things. “Let’s look at another email.”

The next one had no photos, just a Google doc attached.

“Open the doc!”

“After I read the email.”

The email made no sense to any of them; it opened with an apology for the Kansas-Nebraska Act, said that Henry Clay was going to sit down and shut up, and ended with “it’s time for you to ebb so I can flow.”

“What does that even mean?” Susan shifted her eyes from the screen to Teresa then to Cathy.

“Got me. Open the doc.” Teresa leaned in closer.

It was the opening of a story, and it didn’t help Susan grapple with the American history references in the email.

“Damn, did Lila write this?” I always heard that she wrote, but damn . . . she’s actually good at it.”

Susan’s eyes shot daggers at Cathy for complimenting Lila, and she abruptly closed the document. “Yes, Lila is so fucking wonderful. She gave my husband a baby, she’s smart, she’s funny, she’s a fucking professor, and she writes. I hate her!” Tears burst from the corners of her eyes, sliding down her face, unobstructed by cheekbones.

“Oh, Suzy Q, don’t cry. Lila is in North Carolina, married to Matthew, and she almost never comes back to Garden City. There’s just no way Sam’s seeing her.” Teresa shot a look at Cathy over Susan’s head.

“I’m surprised it’s not porn. Remember what Trey said she did at parties at the Cotton Exchange?” Cathy ignored the drama she just created and forged ahead. “She would tell these long, sexy stories playing bullshit, wind the guys up, then drop the hammer, only instead of making them drink, she took their beer when she got them. Trey said she always took all their beer and left them with blue balls.”

“From what I’ve heard, it’s more likely that she gave them all blowjobs. And took their beer. Pretentious slut.” Susan sniffed and gulped her drink.

The next email had a photo, and Susan nearly threw the iPad across the room when she saw it.

“Damn! Now I know what all the fuss is about,” Cathy took the iPad from Susan to look more closely.

“How do you know that’s her?” Teresa leaned over Susan to examine the photo more closely. “Oh, her tattoo.”

The photo was taken in a mirror, and Lila had cut her head off, the photo depicting her blonde hair brushing the tops of her shoulders, clavicles standing out above a light blue bra that was completely transparent, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. A mischievous fairy with purple wings fluttered just inside the right bra strap.

Susan ran to the bathroom again.

“Damn, Lila’s been working out. I heard she gained a bunch of weight during the pandemic, but either she’s lost it and then some, or this is an old picture. Like high school old.”

Teresa turned to fully face Cathy. “What do you think? At first, I thought Susan was being paranoid and delusional, but that picture . . . .” The bracelets on her right arm jingled as she lifted her glass for another sip of her drink.

“Honestly? Sam and Lila have always been fighting or fucking, ever since high school.”

“Nevermind that. Remember when Sam walked in? Lila was playing Bullshit with all the guys who weren’t playing quarters.”

“Oh, yeah! He asked her what she was doing there and they got into a huge fight!”

“And a little later?”

Teresa’s eyes got as big as frisbees as she remembered. “We walked in on them in Savannah’s bed.”

“And they didn’t even notice that they weren’t alone anymore, not until everyone else came in to gawk at them.”

“Wait, wasn’t Susan there? How does she not remember how Sam and Lila were in high school?” Teresa toyed with the beads on one of her bracelets.

“I think it’s a case of selective memory.” Cathy drained the rest of her drink and returned to the kitchen to mix a fresh one.

Cathy had a tendency to get louder with every drink consumed, and Susan stood in her hall bathroom, listening to her friends remind each other of Sam and Lila’s previous entanglements and seeing Lila in all of her glory. Who did she think she was sending Sam a titty pic?

She wore a hard look on her face when she rejoined her friends in the living room. “Okay, we know she’s trying to seduce Sam. What does the text say in her porno email? I can’t stand to look at it.”

Teresa focused on the iPad for a moment. “Omg, she’s so cheesy! ‘Is this the blue I look good in? Should I wear this under some tomboy outfit next time I see you?’ Who says things like that?”

Cathy saw the storm gathering on Susan’s face before Teresa mentioned that Sam had replied.

“What did he say?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Susan’s eyes were full of fire. “Yes. I. Do.”

“It’s just a two-word reply.”

“What are the two words?”

“‘Yes, please.’”

“What?!? Gimme that!” Susan snatched the iPad away from Teresa. She looked at the picture again, hating Lila even more, then read her husband’s response of “Yes, please!” “What does she mean, ‘next time’? When did she see him? He’s been acting so weird ever since they started talking before Tate went to rehab. Now I know why. He isn’t just talking to her. He’s seeing her.”

“I don’t know, Suzy Q. Hand me the iPad, and I’ll see what I can find,” Cathy reached over for the tablet.

Daisy Jill barked at the back door and danced around a bit, clearly hearing a call from nature. Teresa scooped her up and asked Susan where she kept her leash.

“It’s really Sam’s leash. He usually walks Daisy,” Susan sobbed as she opened the foyer closet and pulled the chain link leash off a hook on the inside of the door. “Oh my God, do you think he’s been talking to her while he’s out walking our baby?” A fresh deluge of tears sprang from her eyes.

When Teresa stepped out with Daisy for a walk, Cathy suggested that Susan lie down for a bit and calm herself down. That was a mistake.

“Calm down? Could you be calm if your husband was getting porn from his ex?”

Cathy was the only unmarried woman in Susan’s circle of friends, and Susan herself had been the last to marry–she was forty when she walked down the aisle. Cathy reminded herself that Susan was going out of her mind with jealousy and let it slide. “Okay, fine. Be upset, but maybe cut yourself a little slack and try to regroup. I can sift through these for you.”

“Oh, so you’ll know more about what Sam has been up to than I will. That sounds perfect.” Susan crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her friend.

As soon as Teresa closed the door, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Laura.

Susan called her brother. Pandora's box was open.