Turn 14 of 44

You two spend the next ten minutes fully acting like housewives by gossiping about not only the neighborhood, but also people that haven’t moved in yet. You two then head upstairs and you twirl in the mirror on more time before the brush out.

The last ten minutes before the brush-out belong to gossip, and the two of you take to it like choir members taking to a hymn. You perch on the vanity stool, pin curls humming, and Vivian perches on the edge of your bed — and when did she sit on your bed so easily, when she never once sat down in here before tonight? — and the talk rolls on. "And the Delgados, honey — they're moving in on Azalea Court next month, and I hear *neither* of them cooks," Vivian says, with a small shudder. "Well, I never," you say, and mean it, and it feels wonderful to mean it. "And there's a family looking at the blue house on the corner. The wife — Carol, her name's Carol — she *commutes*." Vivian lets that sit like a verdict. You cluck your tongue, red nails flashing, and offer that somebody ought to bring her a casserole the first week, get her started right, and Vivian beams at you like a teacher at a gold star. The gossip goes further out, houses that aren't even sold yet, people who haven't even seen Mulberry Lane, and you have opinions about all of them, tidy and warm, kept fresh in the little box in your mind. It doesn't occur to you to ask how either of you knows so much about folks who haven't moved in. Gals just know things. Then the watch ticks around and Vivian claps her blue-tipped hands. "Time's up, sugar. Set's baked." And before she can fetch so much as a brush, you're up and at the tri-fold mirror for one more twirl, heels pivoting on the rug, skirt flaring out over three petticoats, pearls swinging, seams straight, red nails spread wide like a fan. "Well, ain't she a dish," you tell your reflection, breathless and giggling, all three of your reflections giggling back, and none of them has dark curls or a byline or a single worry left. Just pins. Waiting to come out.