look rosy. The day started with a call from her real estate broker. She was sitting in her cubicle at the station, going over her notes for that day’s show, whose guests included a Latin dance instructor, an author who’d self-published a book about colon cleansing, and the owner of a vinyl siding company.
“Riley,” her broker said. “I’ve been watching your new show. And I love your wardrobe. So eclectic and youthful!”
Riley looked down at that day’s outfit, a purple silk dress with cascading tiers of gathered fabric that made her look like a human dust ruffle. “Thanks, Brenda. I’ve been meaning to call. You know, Monday is the closing. I’ve got my movers lined up, but I was wondering when I can do a walk-through of the house. Have you talked to the sellers lately?”
“We’ve had a little hitch, Riley. The thing is, the sellers have changed their minds. His new job fell through, and it turns out they hate the climate in South Florida. So they’d really like to give you your money back and void the contract.”
“No! They can’t do that, Brenda. We have a contract. Just tell them no.”
“Hear me out, okay? They’re proposing to return your down payment, plus an extra five thousand for inconveniencing you. How does that sound?”
“It sounds terrible. Maggy and I have been camped out in a hotel for a week, and we’re sick of it. I’ve started my job, and I don’t have any time to go house hunting. Just tell them no, Brenda.”
“I tried. I really did, but they just won’t budge. I’ve never had this happen before.”
“But it’s my house now. I signed a good-faith contract way back in May. You go back to them and tell them I’ll sue if they don’t get out of that house by Monday.”
“I’ll tell them, but I don’t think it’ll make any difference. They clearly don’t intend to move.”
“This is crazy!”
“Riley?” Jacy stood just outside her cubicle. “May I speak with you?”
“I have to go, Brenda. Monday. I want my house Monday.”
Riley threw her phone onto her desk. “What is it now, Jacy?”
“We’ve had a little scheduling snafu. The dance instructor injured his foot last night, so your tango lesson with him is off, and we have a five-minute slot to fill, and we don’t have a backup guest. Instead, we thought we’d try something really radical. An on-air colon cleanse. Totes adorbs! Right?”
Riley held her breath until she thought she might black out. Then she exhaled deeply. “No. And by that, I mean hell, no.” She stood up, unzipped the purple dust ruffle dress, and let it fall to the floor. She was standing in the middle of the newsroom in her panties and bra, rediscovering the liberating sensation of knowing that once again her give-a-shit had got up and gone. She pulled a promotional WDHM T-shirt over her head and stepped into her own jeans.
Jacy gaped. “What are you doing?”
“I’m quitting. Right? Cleanse your own damn colon.”
* * *
The midmorning traffic on I-40 was light, and she made it to the Woodlawn School by eleven fifteen. She went directly to the Alexandra Winzeler Administration Building, filled out the necessary paperwork, secured a visitor’s pass, and walked to the Susan B. Foster Dining Pavilion where she found a sad little girl with a long braid and blue-gray eyes sitting at a lunch table by herself.
“Mama! What are you doing here?”
Riley grabbed Maggy’s backpack. “I’m busting you out of here, kid. Let’s go.”
61
Maggy peered out the car window. “Where are we going?”
Riley smiled. She felt amazingly lighthearted. “What do you say we go back to the hotel, get Banksy, pack up our stuff, and blow this pop stand?”
“Are we moving into the new house now?”
For a moment, Riley’s mood threatened to collapse. “It doesn’t look like our new house is going to be our new house after all. The owners decided they want to keep it. And since I no longer have a job, I couldn’t afford that house anyway.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? You’re not upset about not moving into the new house?”
Maggy turned and studied her mother’s face. “Are you?”
“I was, but now, I sort of don’t care. It’s, like, maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Yeah.” Maggy nodded her head. “I think that, too. You know what I wish? I wish we could go backward. I wish we could move back into our old house, and I could go to my old school. And, you know. Everything.”
“You know that’s not really possible, Maggy.