San Francisco is the metropolis of the west coast, but it’s only seven by seven miles. It’s also the business capital of its side of the country, but its financial district is only a few blocks on a side. So it shouldn’t come as any surprise to run into a friend on the streets there. But it always is.

Pam and Erica almost collided at the corner of Montgomery and Pine yesterday. Erica was returning from meeting a new client, and Pam was running pharmacy errands.

“Hello! What brings you out at 3 pm?” Pam shook whatever she’d been considering out of her head, straight blonde hair swinging past her ears. She smiled at Erica.

“I just met a great couple. Now I’m going back to the office to summarize the meeting, return some calls, and leave early for (yech) Back to School Night.”

“Ah! My Back to School Night is tomorrow.”

“I always hate the idea of these things,” Erica said as they started to walk together toward their offices, “but I usually enjoy the actual experience. Now that Sam’s in high school, the crowd is more diverse and the subjects are more interesting. But doing ten minutes in each class and five between the six of them, plus listening to the principal’s message and the exhortation from the president of the PTSA…I won’t get home till ten o’clock.”

“I’m dreading mine for different reasons. I just found out Barbara will be there, along with Larry.”

“Why does he have to have her with him? He knows how much you don’t want to see her now.”

“She’ll be there because she’s one of the room mothers for Andrea’s class.”

Erica stops walking, amazed. “How can that be? Larry’s girlfriend has no relation to your daughter or the school.”

“Tell me about it.” Pam gave a short sharp nod of her head and continued. “The bulletin that announced the names and numbers of all room mothers apparently went out last week, but our copy went with Andrea to Larry. (I have to talk to the school again – make sure they deliver duplicates.) Anyway, I finally saw it last night. That’s when I learned Barbara took the job. I’m sure my old friend Miriam had something to do with this. But I’m going to have to see Barbara tomorrow night.”

They got to Bush Street, where Erica would turn left, and they tried to extend their conversation on that busy corner. “Oh Pam,” Erica said, “I’m so sorry.” They moved aside for two guys with hand trucks.

“It makes me want to skip the whole thing. But I can’t. I’m interested, and I have to be there for Andrea. I kind of checked out of school matters for the last year, and I need to get back into it now.” They noticed they were blocking walkers again, and gave it up. Erica strode down Bush as Pam waited for the light.

Erica felt for Pam, but not that much. They were business acquaintances who lunched together once a month with their mutual buddy Anita, but they had no contact between lunches. Pam considered Erica one of her closest friends; Erica thought of Pam as something less. She knew Pam had a cold childhood and a busy career, with no time for or even understanding of close friendship. She’d often seen Pam consider clients who were friendly as if they were friends. In fact, Miriam was an ex-client of Pam’s. They had occasionally lunched together back when Pam prepared Miriam’s tax returns. They had daughters who were in the same class in school and that made for some compatibility. But Miriam had selected Larry when Pam’s marriage broke up, and had quickly formed a friendship with Barbara.

From then throughout the evening, the subject festered in Pam’s heart. She didn’t dwell on the story of Larry’s unhappiness in their marriage and his subsequent defection, first to a studio apartment, then to the spare room in his business partner Barbara’s heavily-mortgaged house, and finally into her bed. She didn’t rehash how often Pam had defended Barbara back when Larry complained about business. She didn’t reflect on Miriam, the friend she had called best, who hasn’t had time for her since Larry left. She tried to stay busy with her usual evening activities, and she succeeded for whole quarter hours, but she was frequently distracted by a stab of anxiety.

“I hate this,” she thought aloud at 9:45 pm, as she flushed with sweaty grief while trying to read in bed. She put the book face-down on her belly and shook her open-fingered hands to flick away the pain. “I wish I could put it to bed,” she thought as she closed the book, turned off the light, and waited for sleep.

She doesn’t feel any better when she rises today. She hasn’t slept well, and Back to School Night looms. She isn’t in her office thirty minutes, hasn’t even finished her bagel and latte, when Larry calls.

“I can’t believe what you and Barbara are doing to me,” she blurts before she learns why he’s calling. “This room mother thing has to be the worst slap yet.”

“Hey, I don’t want to get in the middle of this! Deal with Barbara. I just called about our tax return.” They agree to discuss the subject after he delivers some statements he’s been holding.

Twenty minutes later, Pam checks the voicemail messages that have accumulated while she returned other calls. There’s a short one from Barbara:

“Pam, this is Barbara. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I respect that, but I’ve written you a letter I really want to deliver. If you’ll just call me back or shoot me an email, I’ll transmit it.”

Pam lets the message age. After lunch she concludes she has to do something. She punches Barbara’s number.

“I don’t want to read your letter,” she states. “If you have something to say to me, go ahead.”

“Look, I’m really sorry about this school thing. It’s just that Miriam asked. I don’t mind the work, and Larry and I thought it would be good for Andrea.”

Pam doesn’t respond.

“If you want,” Barbara offers, “I’ll resign the position. You can have it.”

“Fine. Why don’t you do that.”

“But the names have already gone out to the parents.”

“So? So we’ll stand up tonight and announce that there’s been a change. I’m sure the parents can handle that.”

“Wouldn’t you rather we share the job? That would make Andrea happy, and you know how busy you are during tax season.”

Pam grits her whole face. She thinks about this woman who’s sleeping with her husband and acting concerned about her work load. She says, “Or you can do what you offered. Resign and I’ll take the job.”

“I’ll resign. I’ll call Miriam and tell her.”

They terminate the call. Pam doesn’t admire Barbara, but she used to, and now she finds it easier to anticipate seeing her. She refills her water glass and is ten minutes into a difficult memo when her telephone rings. It’s Miriam.

“What’s this I hear about you and Barbara sharing the room mother job?”

“You’re hearing wrong, Miriam. Barbara is going to resign.”

“That’s not what Barbara told me.”

“Well it’s what she and I agreed to.”

“You can’t be a room mother.”

“Are you rejecting me for the position, Miriam?”

“But the announcement already went out to parents!”

“What is this? The parents of the students in this school are in general sophisticated; they can handle an assignment change.”

“But you always preferred to donate money instead of time; you know how busy you are.”

“Miriam, are you rejecting me as room mother?” Pam’s starting to wonder where she’ll have to take this: teacher? principal? Miriam is the head room mother for her daughter’s and Andrea’s class, and Pam is aiming to be one of three working under her organization. Pam and Larry and the kids used to socialize with Miriam and Mark and their kids; now Barbara goes in Pam’s place.

“I’m just not sure I can work with you,” Miriam says.

“Well that’s your problem. ‘Cause I can work with you.”

“Okay. We’ll announce the change tonight.”

Pam feels a little better. She still doesn’t want to see Miriam or Barbara, but now it won’t be as bleak and uncomfortable for her. She’s able to put in a productive afternoon. When she calls Erica with a business question, she fills her in.

“Good girl!” Erica praises, when she hears of Pam’s assertiveness. In fact, Pam can be obnoxiously assertive in restaurants and retail establishments. She complains so readily at their ladies’ lunches that Erica imagines kitchen staff spitting in their entrees. But in the past year or so, in the matter of Larry and their breakup, Pam has been seriously inactive, reactive, passive and pained. “I’m looking forward to hearing how it goes.” Erica turns the page of her calendar and sees nothing for the middle of the next day. “Do you want a quick lunch tomorrow?”

“I can do that. Meet at Montmarte at noon?”

“Sounds good.”

Pam works until 6:30 and then goes straight to the school. She has no appetite for dinner.

The campus is as lovely as one expects an exclusive private academy to be. Riding the hills overlooking the bay, endowed with the finest electronic, athletic and artistic facilities available, it’s a far cry from the New York public schools in Pam’s and Larry’s past. Friends have asked why they pay to send Andrea there, when the Piedmont and Berkeley public schools happen to be good, but this place is one thing Pam and Larry still agree on. There’s a downside, besides expense: only two other children in Andrea’s class have parents who are separated, and it would be a comfort if more shared her situation.

Pam is so impressed with the school’s atmosphere that she doesn’t mind running into Larry and Barbara at the entrance. Everyone is civil, well-mannered enough to sit together during the announcements. After that, on the way to Andrea’s classroom, Pam and Barbara agree that Barbara will help Pam fulfill her room mother duties; they won’t share the job, but Barbara will step in when Pam is too busy.

It’s less comfortable in the classroom. For one thing, they have to squeeze into those fourth-grade-sized desks. For another, Pam spots Miriam, who is standing with her narrow back to Pam, talking to teacher Jane. Pam can’t see Miriam’s face, and she knows better than to assess mood from the rigid position of Miriam’s scoliotic back, but she’s certain her old friend is speaking to Jane about her (undoubtedly complaining about last minute changes).

Jane walks to the front of the room and begins about her expectations for the year. She summarizes the teaching plan and answers the usual questions: How big is the class? How much does homework count? Does she really want the kids to have scientific calculators?

She tells the parents that the more they participate the better, and she describes the room parent system. She brings Miriam to her, who then introduces Pam and two other mothers, with no mention about any change.

As the event concludes and the parents unfold themselves from the desks, Miriam walks over to Pam.

“I’m sorry about our tension on the phone today.”

“That’s okay. We got through it.” Pam glances briefly at Miriam as she says this, and then looks down to her purse and notebook.

“Look, I’m not sure what went wrong with us, but…”

Pam interrupts. “I am. You never had time for me when I was in pain. Now you’ve obviously chosen to maintain a relationship with Larry and not with me.”

“But I called you! I left at least two messages.” Miriam speaks indignantly but looks confused.

“Good grief, Miriam: I was almost suicidal then. I don’t know who left messages.”

Miriam resembles one of their daughters in a dispute, hurt and about to declare unfairness. “Do you want to talk?” she asks.

She and Pam begin to move in the prevailing direction, toward the classroom door. “I really don’t see any point,” Pam answers. “No thanks.”

Home again, preparing for bed, Pam thinks she’ll sleep better tonight. Her assertiveness has exhausted her and she feels like she made some points. She considers what she’ll wear tomorrow, what she’ll do in the morning, what she’ll eat for lunch. If the weather is as nice as it was today, she and Erica can eat outside. Pam will probably have the chicken crepes. She’ll tell Erica about tonight.

Erica will be sympathetic about the room mother work ahead of Pam. Neither of them likes this aspect of parenthood. But Pam can almost hear Erica advising her to go ahead with it. “I know you don’t enjoy these calling and organizing and fund-raising activities. Neither do I. We’d both rather just send money. But you say you want to get more involved in Andrea’s life. So go ahead. Do this. It will be good for you.”

As Pam drifts off to sleep she can hear herself respond. “Oh I don’t know. I feel like I made my point. I’ll probably just let Barbara do most of it.”