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Karolina Waclawiak: The Invaders

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Karolina Waclawiak The Invaders

The Invaders: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Over the course of a summer in a wealthy Connecticut community, a forty-something woman and her college-age stepson’s lives fall apart in a series of violent shocks. Cheryl has never been the right kind of country-club wife. She's always felt like an outsider, and now, in her mid-forties — facing the harsh realities of aging while her marriage disintegrates and her troubled stepson, Teddy, is kicked out of college — she feels cast adrift by the sparkling seaside community of Little Neck Cove, Connecticut. So when Teddy shows up at home just as a storm brewing off the coast threatens to destroy the precarious safe haven of the cove, she joins him in an epic downward spiral. The Invaders

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“You got the boot, huh?” Christine asked.

“Oh no, they had too many girls this year.”

“Sometimes I think they just do that to put people in their place. Give them hope and take it away.” She motioned with her hands, nearly spilling her sweating white wineglass on me.

“I did it a few years ago,” I said, trying to save face. I had been chosen once, right before Jeffrey’s first wife had died and they wanted to give me a go. See if I could be one of the girls. This was just the latest attempt at putting me in my place. It had started suddenly and passively when Mary Ann had forgotten to add me to the ticket list for Jersey Boys a few years ago. I wandered Times Square for hours waiting for the show to finish, fingering I Love NY and Statue of Liberty snow globes and wondering if anyone I knew would appreciate one. Afterward, they wanted to have a drink and dinner to talk about the performances. Debbie Picard told me I hadn’t missed much, she would have preferred shopping, but when I showed her what I had bought, the pewter-finish Statue of Liberty for me and the I Love NY T-shirt for Jeffrey, the girls all laughed. Didn’t I know about Madison Avenue? they asked. The shops around Times Square were the only ones I could find. They said it was marvelous that I had never been to New York before. They really thought it was cute. I found the most inexpensive item on the menu since I had spent so much money just walking around: a fancy grilled cheese sandwich with arugula and purple tomatoes, while they all got duck and rabbit and different things I would never think to eat. They ordered wine by the bottle while I stuck with tap water.

When the bill came, Lori said, “Split it down the middle!” And we did. I didn’t want to be the one shoving twenty dollars at them, saying that it was for my portion and looking cheap or, worse, poor. Jeffrey later lectured me about spending one hundred and fifty dollars on a sandwich, and that had been my first and last visit to the city. I threw the gifts away before he could see how foolish I had been.

“I did it last year and it was a disaster. My clothes were two sizes too small and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. I still had to walk, though. They don’t choose you again if you run into trouble,” Christine said.

“It just seemed like a scheduling thing, that’s all.”

“Of course. It’s not you,” Christine said, patting my leg.

The models started down the makeshift runway and all the women started oohing and aahing at their friends, daughters of members, bridge partners, and golf-foursome girls. The fashion was coming to us, even if it was just from the downtown shops and featured the usual gauzy linen capris with hidden elastic waists, the tropical-colored knit separates accessorized with chunky necklaces, and the latest golf trends. They were starting with the golf fashions with breathable fabrics and I watched the models spinning and twirling in sherbet skorts. Some of them were really hamming it up.

“ ‘Look at Karen in her divine melon skort and athletic shell. Ladies, throw a cardigan over this look and you’ll be ready to go from golf course to main course in minutes,’ ” Mary Ann said, reading from a card.

There was clapping and laughter.

“Look at that gorgeous skirt,” Christine said. “Like I need another one.”

“I think Mary Ann said skort, but it’d look good on you,” I said. “Treat yourself.”

“Not with my hips. You, you have no hips, that would work on you.”

I looked at Karen as she took a fake swing with a tiny crook in her knees, illustrating the breathability of the fabric, and wondered if that shade of melon would make me look revived.

On their return, the parade of women raised their arms as if they were winners in some unspoken competition. They had been picked. They were models all of a sudden. The rest of us guzzled mimosas and fresh midmorning sangrias and filled out forms specifying what fashions we wanted to buy.

“These things really wear me out. All the fun. I need a nap and a benzo.”

“I don’t think they’re called that anymore,” I said.

“Whatever Larry calls them, I need one.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t mix alcohol with them,” I said.

“Oh, I do it all the time. They just have to say that. For the kids.”

Christine found what she was looking for at the bottom of her purse. Her husband was a doctor who medicated her so that she’d turn a blind eye to his side projects. We all knew it but didn’t say anything. No one took Christine’s hand and asked her if she was okay, we always just smiled politely and ignored her confused ramblings when we realized the dose for the day was too high. Although we were complicit in her humiliation, we were all very concerned with ignoring our own.

“Bunny, everybody!”

Bunny Fogherty, nearing seventy-five, walked with purpose, with long strides and an exaggerated head toss, as if she was born for this. Big chunky jewels glittered around her neck. The other models who came through all wore an enormous amount of dazzling costume jewelry, because they knew we needed to find a way to adorn ourselves while covering the crinkle of neck skin, the dotting of sun spots on our décolletage. They led with sparkle and the tables of women were awed. “I think Bunny’s found her new calling,” Mary Ann said. “ ‘This dress is straight from the Paris runways to you, ladies. Just because we live on the shoreline doesn’t mean we can’t be high fashion from time to time.’ ”

She smiled, looking up from her card.

I saw someone with scraggly hair wander through the bodies of waiting women and walk up to one of the waiters holding a tray of drinks. He peered around, confused, and I saw that it was Teddy and inhaled sharply. He was disheveled, glassy-eyed, and he was trying to get a drink off the tray as the waiter whooshed it away from him. I think I heard him say It’s for them. Teddy actually had the nerve to wink at a newer club member as she strutted by wearing a caftan poncho thing for rainy summer evenings.

“ ‘You never know when you’re going to get wet,’ ” Mary Ann breathed into the microphone.

What was he doing here? I waved to get his attention and instantly regretted it when I saw him barging his way through the pushed-together chairs to walk toward me.

“Yo, Cheryl. What the hell is this?”

All the other women turned around, and I thought I felt Christine grasp my hand in support. He sat down next to me and the women stared. He was wearing jeans.

“You guys are throwing fashion shows now?”

“It’s our own little Milan!” Christine said.

“You know you can’t wear jeans in the clubhouse,” I said.

“I’m locked out of the house.”

“Does your father know you’re home from school?” I asked.

Teddy laughed and said, “Nah. Who doesn’t like surprises?”

He leaned back in his chair and spread his legs wide as he watched the models go by. Everyone looked away and furiously scribbled their choices on the order forms.

“Is that Mrs. Picard?” Teddy whispered. I looked to where he was looking, which was at Debbie Picard, who was sending air kisses hurtling through the air. I was embarrassed for us all.

“That’s pretty good,” he continued.

We had paid the summer rent on his apartment in Dartmouth in full. What was he doing here?

“Are you just visiting?” I asked.

“I got kicked out. Do you have a key to the house?”

“What do you mean, kicked out?”

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