Clarice’s phone rang the minute she walked in the door from dropping Brooke off at school. Ordinarily she would have let the housekeeper or her assistant answer, but she hadn’t heard from Barry since the benefit last night. When her daughters asked where he was she said he had left early in the morning to go to the set.

Clarice picked up, not knowing exactly what she would say if it was him. “Hello.”

“Oh my God. I’m so excited it’s you,” a girlish voice chirped.

“Yes, it’s me.” Clarice had no idea who she was talking to except that it obviously wasn’t Barry.

“Clarice, it’s me. Judy Tremont.”

“Oh, hi, Judy.” Clarice had not been back to Judy Tremont’s since the dinner in honor of Samantha Acton. “How are you?”

“I’m t – riffic.” Judy was being decidedly upbeat at her faux-old-girl best. “I was hoping we could get together for lunch or coffee sometime. I really want to talk about some ideas for next year’s school benefit and also about how permissive some of the other mothers have become. I would die before I’d let Charlotte wear couture under her uniform. In our house, Prada is only for the weekends.”

Clarice wished she had never picked up the phone. “Oh,” she mumbled.

“Anyway, anyway,” Judy continued. “Albert hates when I’m catty, so it’s so fun to get together with a girlfriend and say whatever the heck I want. It’d also be a nice chance for our girls to get to know each other. Maybe they could come back here from school together. Charlotte really admires Venice.”

“But Venice is at least four years older than Charlotte.”

“Charlotte is very mature. How ’bout next Monday at one and the girls can come here at around three?”

“Next Monday at one.” Clarice hung up and poured herself a cup of tea to regain her composure.

Barry never mentioned to Clarice her opening the door on him and Samantha. He simply had Yvonne remove his clothes from the master bedroom closet later that afternoon. Yvonne informed Clarice’s assistant that Barry would not be leaving the apartment but rather moving to the guest suite behind the kitchen. He planned to live at home until their separation was finalized because he would not give Clarice the option of ever suing him in court for abandoning the children. Yvonne told Clarice’s assistant that Barry was certainly grateful to Clarice for the fine job she had done raising the children and Yvonne would inform her of his next move.

“She told you that?” Clarice stared at her assistant after returning from Brooke’s class at Ballet Academy East. “I don’t believe you.”

“I promise you, Mrs. Santorini, that’s what she said.”

“What an asshole!” Clarice slammed her hand on the table, not noticing that her seven-year-old daughter had stumbled into the room.