Lauren Takes Leave by Gerstenblatt, Julie (ebooks children's books free txt) 📕

IMPORTANT:What the hell happened at school? And what’s the deal with Leslie’s partytonight?!?!

I check in with Laney. “We are fine without you,” Laneystates matter-of-factly. I am not sure if this is a purposeful dig or justsomething lost in translation, but either way, it makes me feel lonely.

“Can I talk to Ben, please?” I ask, rolling my eyes at myown desperation.

“It’s piano lesson time,” she reminds me.

“Oh, right!” I say, feeling like the world’s most out-of-touchmom.

“How about Becca, then?”

“Playdate at Jane’s house.”

“Of course, I just forgot!” I say, startled by how fast Ican move from knowing everything to remembering nothing about my children.

“I’ll tell Ben you called,” she says, like I’m a telemarketerthat she’s trying to blow off.

“Thanks!” I fake-chirp as we get disconnected.

I close my eyes for a few minutes and lean my head againstthe cool glass window.

I force an image of Lenny and me locked in an embrace, insome parallel universe where real life hangs in suspension, where it’s okay tokiss someone new, someone who is not Doug. I try to make the fantasy work, butno matter what I create (on the dance floor of a crowded nightclub, by the firein a hotel suite, in a hot tub), I don’t feel any spark.

Has midlife robbed me of the capacity for both real andimagined passion? Instead, I find myself thinking about Doug, of all people. Ofthe way his hair curls up under his collar when he lets it grow too long. Ofhis dimples, which are most noticeable when he’s laughing at something funnyI’ve whispered to him when we’re in a crowd.

I smile and send my husband an e-mail, reminding him of myplans to attend Leslie’s party. Then I tell him that, after jury duty, I hadjust enough time today to run over to Neiman’s and pick up something nice towear on our date tomorrow night.

Some of that is true. For the record.

Next, I e-mail Lenny, explaining in full detail my day ofleave and admitting just who Georgie is, in all her grand femaleness.

My phone rings as we pull into the New Rochelle station.I grab my bag and exit onto the platform while yelling into the phone, “Kitty-Kat!Where you been?”

There is a moment’s pause before she answers, and I thinkthe line has gone dead. Then I hear her faintly utter something. “Mygehfired.”

“Repeat that, please. I got a train in my ear.”

“I might get fired!” she says. “From my job! I friggin’met with the Heads of State at three o’clock today about yet anotherridiculous issue I’m having with Psycho Mom, and they told me I have toapologize to her, and I told them that’s never gonna happen!”

“Dear God.”

“There is no God.”

I sit down on a bench.

The call I made to school must have occurred right afterthat meeting took place. Martha knew. She caused Kat’s emotional breakdown ofthe day, and yet she made it sound like Kat was upset about something unrelatedto her. “Sadistic bitch,” I whisper in disbelief.

“You hate me, Lauren, I know,” Kat says. “You hate me fortelling them off. But I finally stood up for myself against that Psycho Mom andthe weak-ass diministration and it felt damned good!” She sounds strongand together. She sounds feisty. She sounds like my Kat.

“First off, I don’t hate you!” I just think you’restupid for putting your job in jeopardy when your husband left you completelybroke. I want to add this, but, at the moment, I don’t think it’s the routeto follow. So I mentally edit it out of my dialogue and save the sentiment foranother time, like when we’re figuring out how she can ingratiate herself againwith the Heads of State.

I recently read an article about girlfriends who give eachother a false sense of confidence, distorting reality for them by bolsteringthem up with the wrong advice in times of crisis. I don’t want to do thateither. I settle on something in between Disney Princess advice and Cold, HardFact. “You were one-hundred percent right to speak up about that mom, and theinjustice of having to apologize when she’s clearly at fault. But, Kat, I justhave a feeling that you went a little bit too far in your own defense.”

There is a pause. I imagine her pulling on a curl, chewinga fingernail, or otherwise fidgeting her way through her thoughts. “Perhaps.”

“Okay, then. That’s something. You don’t want to lose yourjob, do you?”

“I don’t know…maybe I do.”

I worry that I’ve now planted a bad seed, given her anidea that I didn’t intend would grow thick and weedy in her mind. “It was arhetorical question,” I backtrack.

“No, no…it’s right. It more than right, it’s brilliant!”Kat says. Uh-oh. I just gave her Varka-style advice, which only fuels thenegative Kat.

“We should totally quit our jobs, Lauren. Weshould, like, head back to school right now and just go right in there andresign! Together! Take a break!”

Great, just great. I’ve created a monster. Now I have tofind a leash big enough to rein in her unyielding enthusiasm for destruction.

One should never toy with the fragile mind of a cuckoldedkindergarten teacher.

In response, I state the obvious, the fact that I’m theonly one in my family with a steady paycheck while Doug tries to get some newclients. “It’s not that easy, Kitty-Kat. There’s Doug.”

“So quit Doug, too!” she yells. I feel the comment like ablow to my middle.

Kat senses my hesitation and reconsiders. “I’m sorry. I didn’tmean that. I’m kind of…”

“On the verge?” I offer, thinking back to Georgie.

“Off the deep end, is more like it,” Kat clarifies. I canhear her exhale, and know that’s a real cigarette this time, not one made ofpowdered sugar. Kat gives up smoking for Lent every year, and then celebratesEaster by buying a carton of Marlboro Lights.

“Me, too.” I decide that a little of my own honesty mighthelp Kat right now. Hell, honesty might even help me, for all I know. “Hey,Kat?”

“Yeah?”

“I kind of took a leave of absence from work. Went toBoston for the day.”

“Wait a second…” Now I’ve caught her off guard. “But…whatabout jury duty?”

“They settled yesterday morning.”

“Fucking lawyers!”

“I know. They totally ruined my