Nina was wearing black, the wrong color for a holiday card. The wrong color for her, period, since it gave her skin a greenish tint, but what was Allison, a color consultant? That sounded like something Kaye Cox might do. Invite people over for a party to tell them they should stick to fall colors, or spring, depending on their complexions. She would sell them the appropriate makeup to match.

Allison reprimanded herself. She’d promised not to pick on Kaye after the toy party last spring.

She’d been embarrassed for Kaye, who had sent out an invitation featuring a drawing of a red bucket, a poem inside with lines that ended in exclamation marks. Allison and Valeria had begged off, as must have every woman in town. Allison still had a painful image of seeing Kaye through the window, alone with the refreshments and the demonstration toys, an image so excruciating that she’d gone next door and bought a dump truck and a couple of board books, and ate a sickly sweet piece of fudge. Kaye had practically made out with her from gratitude.

“Can we get set up? I thought the couch might be good.” Nina ushered them into the living room. The couch was the green of money.

“Don’t you own a more cheerful suit?” Suzanne said.

“Like what? A Santa suit? Get real,” Nina said.

“I don’t know. Mauve. Blue. Anything but black,” Suzanne said. “Right, Allison? For a Christmas card?”

“She’s right.”

Nina flared her nostrils. “I guess I have blue.” She and her pumps clicked down the hallway.

Allison set up the lights, making use of the mirrors Nina had on the walls instead of art. Was it done with the intention of making the house look bigger, or out of sheer narcissism? She had a few low-nap area rugs. Her chairs were upright and she had roller blinds that snapped up tight, no curtains to soften things.

Adam whined for his nature program. “You said,” he said, which was true. They had said. Suzanne turned on the TV. She tried channel after channel, but they all seemed to be airing talk shows.

“Turn on a game. Mark has tons of them,” Nina said, reappearing in her blue suit, which was just a shade up from black.

“I’m against them,” Suzanne said.

“A little gaming won’t kill him.” Nina fiddled with the controls for a while. Nothing. Then she unplugged a cable and plugged it in again. Finally Adam pushed a button on the remote control. Cartoon sword fighters appeared on the television screen accompanied by heroic music. The women cheered. Adam pushed more buttons, but the sword fighters remained poised, ready for battle, yet unable to fight. Adam lay on the rug, facedown.

“Let’s get going. I have to get to yoga.” Nina sat on the couch.

“Not you too,” Suzanne said.