Julia Fierro - Cutting Teeth

Finally, Tenzin thought with great relief. Something she could do, a task she could complete to help these troubled mommies and daddies.

“I go get the bags!” she announced.

As Tenzin passed Nicole on the couch, Nicole reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Please,” Nicole said. “Stay with me, Tenzin.” She looked up at Josh. “You go, honey. Please.”

Josh’s voice was shaking. “Where are your pills, Nicole? You tell me. Right now.”

“It’s hopeless,” Nicole said meekly. “They’re not working. They’re not enough.”

“Oh, those little peach-colored pills?” Tiffany said. “Yummy yummy Xanax. It’s really the best. Don’t you think, Nic? ’Cause it’s like you feel totally calm. But you don’t feel like you’re drugged. Man, they really hit it out of the ballpark with that one, those pharmaceutical geniuses.” She giggled and sat down on the arm of the couch beside Nicole.

“Hey, Nic. I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Tiffany said, then she leaned close and whispered to Nicole so Tenzin could barely hear, “You never did jump off that seawall, did you?”

Leigh walked to the sofa and laid a cool hand on Tenzin’s wrist. “It’s okay, Tenzin,” she whispered. “You can go back upstairs.”

Tenzin nodded, relieved. Her place was with the children. With the innocent. Praise peace.

She patted Nicole’s hands and rose from the sofa.

“I think Tenzin should stay,” Tiffany said. “She is our guest of honor, after all. And she’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need to be told what to do. Right, Tenzie?”

“Then treat her with honor,” Leigh said. “You can start by calling her the name her mother gave her. Her name is Tenzin.”

The way Leigh said her name made Tenzin blush. Yes, it was terrible that the two women were working so hard to hurt each other, their words like sword blades. But it was she they were fighting over with an emotion that bordered on love, and this made her not exactly happy, but not unhappy either. She would be lying if she did not admit to a bit of pleasure.

“I treat her with honor,” Tiffany said, and Tenzin saw that, for the first time that night, Tiffany was not smiling.

“You don’t own her,” Leigh said.

Tiffany laughed. “Sorry that your kid is challenging, Miss Leigh Lambert Marshall the third. But there are other people in the world besides you.”

“Stop it, Tiffany,” Leigh ordered. “Stop this right now. Before it’s too late.”

Tenzin wished she could stand between them, like she had stood between the children so many times, her arms spread, a wall between two stormy children. She could share with them the wise words of the Dalai Lama:

Every being, even those who are hostile to us, has the same right as we do to be happy and not to suffer. So let’s take care of others wholeheartedly, of both our friends and our enemies.

Leigh turned to walk away. And that was when Tiffany gripped Leigh’s thin arm, and Tenzin almost cried out, begging Tiffany not to hurt her beloved Leigh. Tiffany twisted Leigh around. Leigh’s hair was a gold fan in the candlelight.

The women’s faces were inches apart.

“If it wasn’t for me,” Tiffany said, pointing a finger in Leigh’s face, “you’d have no friends. I welcomed you into the group.”

Leigh looked around the room — for help, or maybe consent, Tenzin thought — then took a deep breath, and was about to speak, to say what Tenzin knew was something terrible, and Tenzin wanted to run to Leigh and demand that she stop, that she take a breath, that she smell the flowers, blow out the candles, just as they urged Chase to do when he was inconsolable.

But Tenzin knew that Leigh had to make Leigh’s choices.

“If it wasn’t for me,” Leigh said, her voice bolder and brighter than Tenzin had ever heard it, “you would’ve gotten kicked out of the group ages ago.”

“Me? Me?” Tiffany laughed, her head thrown back, mouth open. As if she were waiting for raindrops to fall from the ceiling.

Tenzin could see Tiffany struggling to contain herself. She wasn’t a bad person, Tenzin wanted to explain to the roomful of hurt mommies and daddies. Just a broken one. She knew Tiffany wanted to stop herself from saying and doing ugly things.

“Your kid is the problem,” Tiffany said. “There is something seriously wrong with him. Everyone knows that, and it’s time you accepted it.”

The room drew in a sharp collective breath.

Tenzin knew there was one rule at playgroup that could never be broken — the mommies and daddies never ever said ugly things about the children.

The room was so quiet that Tenzin could hear the hum of her own heart. Her hand crawled into her pocket to rub her wooden prayer beads.

Silence is sometimes the best answer, the great wise Dalai Lama once said.

Tiffany wagged a finger at Leigh’s nose.

“I know the truth,” Tiffany sang. “I know your big bad secret. Why didn’t you just ask Daddy for the money? I mean, is there anything you’ve ever wanted that you didn’t get, Leigh?”

Tenzin knew what Tiffany was speaking of. She had known for months about the money Leigh had taken. Ever since she had accompanied Leigh to a school meeting — so Leigh could show Charlotte to the other mommies there. Tenzin had seen the sweat beading on Leigh’s forehead, had watched her pull one and then another hair from her head when she thought no one was looking.

Now Tenzin knew that Tiffany was stripping Leigh naked in front of all the mommies and daddies, then lashing her with a whip, and for a moment, maybe for the first time, Tenzin did judge. She judged Tiffany as bad.

Leigh leaned closer to Tiffany, then closer still, until it seemed that Leigh’s chin was resting on Tiffany’s shoulder, and Leigh’s lips were moving, and Tenzin saw the change come to Tiffany’s face. As if Leigh had whispered a magic spell and entranced Tiffany, just like in the children’s once upon a time stories. Leigh had told Tiffany a scary story.

Then Leigh was in Tenzin’s arms, pushing her face into Tenzin’s chest.

Leigh’s sobs vibrated through her as Tenzin smoothed big circles into her mommy’s back. She closed her eyes and pretended it was her daughter. Samten. She kissed Samten’s soft hair. She spoke in Tibetan, telling her that all would be okay, that the storm had almost passed.

Tiffany stepped up onto the couch. Gripped the back of it for a minute, to steady herself, then straightened up, so that she stood high above everyone in the room, the skirt of her green dress fluttering.

“What a fun feast this has been!” she called out. She shook her long curls and wiggled her hips, as if dancing to imaginary music.

Tenzin cupped a hand over Leigh’s ear. The woman’s shudders quieted.

Meanwhile, Nicole had begun to pace around the room, mumbling, “We should wake the children now and get them ready.”

Josh trailed her. He reminded Tenzin of a child lost in the supermarket, not sure who to ask for help.

Daddy Rip walked to the sofa and offered Tiffany his hand.

“Come on, Tiff,” he said with his gentle smile that Tenzin loved as much as the children did. “Come on down. Before you get a boo-boo.”

Tenzin saw him give Tiffany a quick wink.

“Oh, you,” Tiffany said, her hands on her hips.

Then, as if they were in music class, Tiffany sang, “Michael told me about you-ooo. About what you asked him in the canoe-ooo. You naughty little boy, Rippy-poo.”

Rip closed his eyes, and Tenzin thought he might put his face in his hands and weep.

With his eyes still closed, he said, “It was a gross misunderstanding.”

“It sure was gross, all right!” Tiffany laughed. “Does Grace know? No? I didn’t think so. She’s never around, is she? Let’s get her down here.”