The Bottom of the Sea

Part 9: The Party

I didn't know what I was getting into when I agreed to go to a party for six-year-olds. So much screaming.

Everyone was in Missy's large and manicured back yard. The kids were running around and yelling at the top of their lungs, while the moms drank wine. The dads were noticeably absent.

"Are you sure I can't get you a glass of wine? I have red and white," Missy said, as she passed by with a stack of dirty paper plates. She looked frazzled. "No thanks. I'm fine," I said, sipping my water. "With my allergy, one sip and I'll be covered in hives till morning." I don't have an allergy to wine, but people don't seem to want to take no for an answer when you turn it down. I just don't like alcohol, never have. But it's easier if you just tell people you're allergic.

"Earth to Sarah! I said, would you like some more cake?" Missy was looking at me with a puzzled smile.

"Yes," I said, eyeing the giant chocolate slab on the festive, outdoor table. Chocolate on the other hand was most welcome. I usually never had a second slice of cake, but it was so good I felt like I'd likely be going back for a third.

"There are cupcakes too, everyone," Missy announced to the women. "Sarah baked them. She's amazing." I blushed. A few cupcakes were no big deal.

"Oh my God, these are better than sex," one of the moms said as she bit into one, and the rest of them tittered. "How do you eat things like this and stay so slim? Honestly Missy, your friend is like a tiny little bird."

Her name was Becky; it was pronounced that way, but she didn't spell it like that; she spelled it Becci. I knew that because she took 20 minutes to explain it to another mom at the party. There's always a Becci, I thought. I was no fragile little bird. She had my back up already.

"So, Sarah, it's just you in that creepy, old house?" Becci said, turning her heavily lined, golden-green eyes to me. "How can you stand it?"

"I love it," I said.

"You're braver than me. I wouldn't stay in it for one night, not even on a dare," Becci said and burst out laughing, catching the eye of the other mothers.

"Why not?" Becci looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Because it's haunted, of course. Everyone knows that. It's listed on a website devoted only to haunted houses. I can't believe you've lasted a couple of weeks now." She glanced over at the house and produced a theatrical shudder. Missy looked mortified.

"That's not true, Becci. It was a charity fundraiser and we offered a night in the house one time around Halloween. There's nothing wrong with the house, stop trying to scare Sarah."

From the time I got there, this one was either criticizing the party décor, subtly making fun of Missy's cheerfulness or goading the other moms into laughing at her mean jokes. I'd had enough.

"I know a couple in BC who would pay millions for that house, no question," I said in a calm tone. I watched the shock ripple across their faces.

"M-Millions?" Becci stammered.

"Of course. It's a beautifully restored heritage property in pristine condition. My husband's in real estate, and I know a valuable property when I see one. There are several people in my circle who would probably get into a bidding war over it. Remind me to give you their names, Missy, when my rental term is up. I have one couple in mind who would just adore it. He's CEO of an oil and gas company and she's a retired surgeon. They'd take good care of the house if you ever decide to sell outright," I said. The moms looked like they didn't know what to say. Missy glowed with pride.

"Gee, my house is old too, could you take a look at mine?" One of the moms said, earning a death stare from Becci. If looks could kill, that one'd be pushing up daisies, as my grandmother used to say.