Plus One by Christopher Noxon Page B

himself. If househusbandry made him a pussy, then he’d be the most capable and involved and commanding pussy ever to don a man apron: the alpha pussy.
    Huck turned to get a tray from the stove, and Alex headed over to the ladies, who were deep into a conversation about schools (this, along with vacation plans and dietary regimens, seemed to be the sole topics up for discussion in their social circles of late). Figgy was halfway into a complaint about the neighborhood elementary school where the kids had been enrolled since kindergarten.“We’ve got to get out of there,” she said, shaking her head. “Seriously, you can bake all the vegan muffins you like, but when you’ve got thirty-five kids in a trailer they call a classroom, you’re pretty much screwed. Her teacher can’t even spell the signs on the reading wall. I had to rip down a sign that said A-M-I-N-A-L.”
    Alex nodded and made a sympathetic grunt. He’d given up defending their local public school. He loved how close it was and how they could, in theory anyway, walk the four blocks from their house. He loved the school’s squat, solid, geometric architecture, the comforting beige of the walls, and the heavy metal desks. He even kind of liked the crazy mix of Spanish, Farsi, and Armenian on the schoolyard. But Figgy was right: The overcrowding was ridiculous, and the teaching was uninspired. The whole place was, when he thought about it now, downright raunchy . He could feel his staunch commitment to public education wilting by the second.
    â€œOh, you’ve got to come look at the Pines,” Katherine said.
    So they were Pines people—of course. The Pines was a progressive private school that would, for $32K a year, teach your kids calculus and Mandarin without ever forcing them to wear a collared shirt. It was something like the K-12, co-op Freeschool he’d attended in Ojai, except with an endowment and actual academic standards. Pines people were famously loyal. Cultish even.
    â€œPenelope is thriving in the music program—you should hear her on the trombone!” Katherine said. “You know, trombone is basically a free pass into the Ivies. It’s crazy, I know—but you’ve got to keep these things in mind. Saves a whole lot of worry down the line.” Alex looked out the window at the girls. Penelope was peering at a half-complete pointillist landscape, while his own daughter was slumped on the grass, one hand busy adjusting her underpants and the other lodged up a nostril.
    Alex sucked in a breath, suddenly registering a delicious odor, a mix of warm dough and melting cheese. Huck came over witha basket of cheddar muffins. The four of them lurched forward and began stuffing themselves. He watched Katherine tip her face back in orgasmic pleasure. “Oh hon,” she said. “You are a god. A cheese-muffin god. Never leave me and never stop making these.”
    Alex took a big bite and looked out at the kids. “The Pines?” he said. “Definitely on our list.”
    â€¢ • •
    Figgy had a conference call with the network when they got home—episode two needed a stronger third act or ramped-up stakes or smash-cut or blow-out, Alex couldn’t keep the lingo straight—so he was put in charge of the nightly ritual of bath, books, and bed. He hustled Sam in and out of the shower and got him settled without much fuss, but he ran into trouble with Sylvie and her bath.
    Sylvie had been fighting a mysterious, stubborn urinary infection for the past month. Alex had finally broken down and taken her to the pediatrician the day she woke up shrieking and scratching. Thankfully, it seemed to be clearing up after a dose of antibiotics, a talk about the importance of wiping correctly, and the regular use of a special soap Sylvie called her “gi-gi soap.”
    All things gi-gi-related were usually Figgy’s department, but she was on her call, so Alex