On the Verge (36 page)

“But what’s your gut telling you?”

“Roseanne, I thought you were against this?”

“I was, but I like living vicariously, and besides, that was before the money.”

“That’s the craziest part of it all. I am not going to lose your money.”

“But you wouldn’t. I guarantee, if you took my money you’d do your best to get it back for me. You wouldn’t be on your own, we’d help. Right, Roseanne?”

“Sure, I do the money and cooking sections!”

“I’m not sure anyone wants a cooking section,” says Tabitha, shaking her head, “but we’ll see.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about everything, I’m still in the midst of my breakdown.”

“Whatever. You have until your birthday to decide.”

“That sounds like a pretty expensive birthday present.”

“It is. All this unburdening—let’s go get some cigarettes and a drink.”

“You guys, I haven’t had solid food in like four days.”

“The liquid diet won’t be affected. We’ll get some late night Krispy Kreme.”

“Fine. Twist my arm. Let me just wash my face.” They both give me a disgusted look. “Okay, all right, I’ll shower, too.”

I decide to take another couple of days off. I leave the message on Herb’s voice mail. Let the temp handle all the new wretched
scheduling. I need the mental health time—I’m having a breakdown. I don’t really feel like crying anymore. Now I can finally enjoy it.

Tabitha’s first assignment in her new coordinator position is to gather all the facts on some East Village restaurant that
NY By Night
is doing a major story on. Tabitha has to go down there and do a little research. She invites me to come down for lunch with her and Raj, the photographer. After last night’s debauchery with the girls and now this little outing, I am definitely deviating off the breakdown course.

Tabitha is totally eating up the way the staff of the restaurant is kissing her ass, so she’ll portray them in the most fantastic light.

Any evidence of the vulnerable Tabitha who showed up at my place is totally gone. She is dressed to the hilt in Dana Buchman. I ask her how much of a dent she put into that infamous savings by purchasing the shoes she’s wearing.

“Let’s get at least four entrées. I want to see what Raj makes of my appetite,” she says, ignoring me. The food here is great, but Tabitha has warned me not to show too much approval.

“We want to keep them on their toes.” She’s expressionless as she jots things down in her little notebook, but not as she flirts with Raj, who looks like an Indian mobster to me.

“Do you girls want to get a drink after this?” I can tell it’s my cue to exit.

“No, actually, I ought to get back, but thanks.”

“Sounds fabulous,” Tabitha says, winking at me. “Do you need cab fare, Eve?”

“I think I’m going to walk.”

“It’s a pretty good walk back up,” Raj says.

I walk up Avenue A for a while and along the way, I’m amazed by how much is going on around me. There’s people unloading instruments, a rally going on in Thompson Square Park, crowded ethnic cafés, upscale restaurants cleaning up after the lunch crowds, a student film being shot, and tons of people on the streets performing or begging for money.

The weather really is starting to get warmer and if I were up at college, this would be the time that I pulled out my sandals and sat up on the hill near my dorm. But I’m not at school anymore, I’m here. I’m in New York with a little bit of money in my pocket and not much more certainty about the future. But it’s as if all the reasons I love it here and all the possibilities have set them
selves up for me today. I breathe it in. I inhale it and feel a little hopeful.

I promise to give myself one more day. I just can’t go to work yet. I can’t until I put my life in order. I start with the easiest parts. Rob. I don’t miss him. All right, I guess I miss part of him—the good parts. I just don’t feel like we were ever on equal footing. It’s not easy to date someone who has influence over whether or not you get a job. You can’t have that relationship without feeling like a bit of a ho.

Then there’s Todd (I am going backward from easiest to hardest). I can’t quite put my finger on why I’ve been thinking about him so much. Why am I nervous to leave him messages? Why, when I close my eyes and want to think about the random guy in the elevator or Rob, or anyone but Todd, do I find myself getting this strange feeling in my stomach? I can’t explain it. I don’t like it. I’ve known this guy for like, forever; I can’t be attracted to him.

Besides, he’s got a girlfriend and he’s in Atlanta. I just need a diversion. Then of course there’s my mom and my sister. I decide to call Chuck. I don’t know why. I hope my sister won’t be there. Luckily, she isn’t, she has a class. He sounds super happy. “Are you at work, Eve?”

“No, I’m taking the day off.”

“Everyone needs a day off now and then.” Of course, if you’re Chuck, then it’s always a day off. “I’m really glad you called, Eve.”

“Really?”

“Yes, how are you doing with your mom’s sickness?”

“I guess okay. I went home for dinner last week, and it wasn’t that much fun. I didn’t stay over. She told me she was feeling fine.”

“And you didn’t believe her?”

“I wanted to, but you know, they haven’t exactly been the most up front with me.”

“That really bugs you, huh?” I notice that Chuck is just kind of reacting to what I’m saying and encouraging me to say more. He may think he’s got me fooled somehow, but I am totally aware of what he’s doing.

“Chuck, it’s my family. I’m really pissed that they told Monica about this but not me. No offense.”

“Look, Eve, it’s not about Monica now, I want you to think of me as your friend.”

“Why?” The question seems to stump him.

“Well, because I guess I’d like to be a part of your family someday, and I don’t want you hate me because you feel as if, somehow, I was untruthful with you.”

“I see.”

“I know you aren’t getting along with your sister right now, and I know it’s painful for her and I’m sure it’s painful for you. It’s times like this when families get polarized, unfortunately.”

“Well, why do you think they told her and not me?”

“I don’t know, Eve.” Some help he is. “Maybe, since you live a lot closer to them, they thought perhaps it would take too much out of your life if you felt like you had to be with them all the time. Monica is far enough away that there really wasn’t too much she could do, unless she wanted to drop out of school, which they made her promise not to do.”

“Well, how come
she
didn’t tell me?”

“That’s something you should ask her. Eve, I don’t really have any family right now, my mother died when I was young and my father and I don’t get along too well. The sad thing is that try as you might to avoid this, no matter how much better she feels, she and your family are never going to be the same.”

“That’s encouraging.”

“Eve, please don’t be so cynical with me. I’m just being honest with you.”

“Look, I’m trying not to be. I’ve cried for about four days straight and only now do I have a handle on things. If I start again, I might not stop. I thought I was doing okay.” I’m not, because I start to cry. Chuck sings me a funny little song over the phone and it makes me laugh, just because of the sheer cheesiness and sweetness. I’m amazed that I can actually stop and laugh, but I can.

“Thanks for talking to me, Eve. It’s nice to get to know you. Your sister has told me a lot of great stories about you. She loves you a lot and I’m glad to have this opportunity to get to know you myself.”

“I think she loves you a lot, too. Thank you for talking to me.”

I don’t know if I was expecting the building to have burned down or what, but it’s still there when I go into work. Everything is pretty much the same on my floor, except my desk is a lot neater and the temp left me a long note about all the things she did in my absence, so I will have the “heads up.”

Gary comes over to me right away to update me on all the meetings and the ways they’ve been lying to us while I was gone. I clear my throat to let him know that Mabel is standing right behind him. He looks at her defiantly.

“Also, Jim quit.” He nods at Mabel. “I doubt he’ll be the last one, either.”

He goes back into his office and Mabel smiles down on me. “Hey there, Mabel.”

“What’s going on, Eve? I heard you were sick, are you better, now?”

“Yep, it was a nasty stomach flu. Believe me, you don’t want to hear about it.”

“I’m sure I don’t. I wanted to urge you to check the postings. There might be some positions right here in this department that you would be suitable for. We are provided by law to post these positions, but I think you might have an in.” I can’t believe Mabel is looking out for me like this. I thought she would hate me for not being a good enough beacon, for getting sick right in the thick of things.

“Writing positions?” Her smile doesn’t falter. She is unsinkable.

“Well, actually, these are administrative positions, but I think you’ll find a lot of growth there.” I bet it’s Lorraine’s position repackaged.

“Oh.” Thanks, I guess. Luckily, my phone rings.

“I’ll talk to you later, Eve.”

“How’s your first day back?” It’s Tabitha.

“Oh, you know, the usual. How’s it going for you?”

“I’ve been interviewing my replacement. You would not believe the awful candidates the staffing people have sent up so far. You would not believe it.” I have a feeling Tabitha is going to make this poor assistant’s life a living hell anyway. “But, I had a great night with Raj. It’s true what they say about Indian men.”

“Really?” I have no idea what she’s talking about, better not to ask.

“Eve, gotta run, I have a 10:30. A Brown graduate. I noticed two spelling errors on her résumé. They expect these people to fill my shoes? I don’t think so. ’Bye.”

I decide to check on Herb. He’s got the incense going particularly strong and he is sitting cross-legged in his chair, staring out the window. I knock on the door and he turns slowly toward me and smiles.

“Oh, hello, Eve,” I want to believe he smokes weed a lot or something, because I can’t understand how he can appear so calm all the time. I wait for him to ask me how I’m feeling, but he doesn’t say a word.

“I’m feeling a lot better,” I offer finally. “Just wanted to see how you were.” Again we stare at each other. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m well, Eve, I’m optimistic about everything. The merger just has to be approached the right way. We plan on having meetings to help everyone adapt a bit better than they have been.”

“To help them think properly?”

“Exactly.” He smiles at me, reassured it’s a simple concept if even the assistant can grasp it.

“Great,” I say. It’s so easy to slip back into the bowing and scraping. “Did you need anything?”

“Actually, we’re getting a new coordinator, her name is Erica Rutt. I was hoping maybe we could have all the files in order for her when she gets here.”

“The files?”

“Yes, you know, the ones in the file room.” I wasn’t even sure we still used those. We have another file drawer near my desk where most of the old issues are, but, the file room…I don’t even think I’ve ever been in it. Lorraine told me it was a mess.

“Lorraine told me it was a mess in there.”

“Lorraine?” Is he for real? “Oh, right, Lorraine. Yes, I’m sure it is, that’s why this is a very important project, considering Erica starts in a week.”

“Okay, great, I’ll get it done.” I guess that means I’m dismissed.

When I get back to my desk, there’s a message from Roseanne. I ask her about Pete when I call her back.

“He mentioned a play he is in, which I think means he wants me to go with him. We’re on our way to becoming a real couple.” I can practically hear her swooning. “But the reason I called you is because I saw this thing for a breast cancer fund-raiser. It’s a run/walk. I thought it would be good for us to do, raise some money for a worthy cause.”

“That sounds good, but I don’t really run.”

“That’s why it’s a run/walk. I run, you walk. We could see if Tab will do it, too.”

“She never will.”

“You’d be surprised. I bet there’ll be all kinds of giveaways and a lot of good contacts, besides she’s softening now that we
know she’s from upstate.” Roseanne says she’s a little embarrassed by the whole thing, but happy that she knows Tabitha is a little less glam than she pretends to be.

“All right, as long as we can walk.”

So it looks like I’m back into the old routine. I’m toying with the idea of calling Todd. I wish someone could give me advice. Adrian gave great advice. I decide to just suck it up and end the conflict.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been on this elevator bank.
Little Nell
’s floor looks totally different. They are totally reorganized, but from what I hear Adrian made out like a bandit and got promoted. I come up behind him and fidget for a while before I say his name. He turns around and looks kind of shocked to see me.

“Hey, Eve, how are you? I heard you weren’t feeling so well.” This is good, he’s not cursing at me or giving me an attitude.

“Yeah, but I’m better, now.”

“How’s your mom?”

“She’s fine,” I smile at him. “Congrats on your promotion!”

“Thanks, I see Tabitha’s been briefing both of us.”

“Yep, so are you busy?” He laughs.

“In general swamped and I don’t use that word lightly, believe me. Right now, I have a little time.”

“Can I, uh, take you to lunch and work on begging your forgiveness?”

He studies me for a second and then says, “Honey, I’m there.”

And that’s that.

I
don’t know about flowers, but it definitely is a nice day in Central Park. We’re standing on the Great Lawn listening to the celebs talk about what a good cause we’re running for. Everyone is cheering. All three of us have my mother’s name pinned on our cool new Prescott T-shirts. We were encouraged to pin the names of people we know who’ve had or have breast cancer on our shirts. I also have the name of one of my high school teachers who died while I was in college and Tabitha has the name of one of her cousins. But, it’s amazing how many people are covered with names, many of them dead.

We all raised a lot of money. Many of the YFL people gave me a ton of cash. I think it was a political gesture but I didn’t care. I was just happy to turn in my pledge sheet. Tabitha agreed to walk, but we had to assure her that Krispy Kreme was a sponsor. I haven’t seen any of those melty delicious treats yet, so I hope she’s not going to get pissy.

“So, we’ll meet at the finish line, okay?” Roseanne is pulling her knees up to her chest. I nod. I kind of wish I told my sister I was doing this. Not to rub it in her face, but because it’s totally her crowd, and would have loved it. There’s a joyous whoop from the crowd when we take off. Roseanne waves and we watch her jog off.

“It’s hot,” Tabitha says.

“It’s cool, and breezy! It’s a good day, Tabitha, come on, I heard Halle Berry was here.” She feigns indifference, but I know her eyes are darting behind her sunglasses. Suddenly, she pulls me closer to her and points.

“Look. Oh, Mother of God.” I watch as Lacey and the Big C jog by, chatting. They look all together too designer fit, they are decked out.

“Wow, Lacey didn’t mention she was running in this. Of course she didn’t give me money, but I just assumed it was because she’s a bitch. What do you think they’re talking about?”

“How little they eat,” Tabitha says. “They’re congratulating each other for being the most fit any female could possibly be. It’s their only joy.” She might be right, but, I can tell after we walk a while that she’s getting into it. She’s complaining less and smiling a little. She’s softening, but still has to maintain an image.

“Is it much farther now?”

“No, c’mon, we’re doing good.”

“I just hope this party is as good as the Aids Walk one was.”

“Tabitha, I didn’t know you did the Aids Walk. Are you doing it again this year?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re a regular philanthropist.”

“Whatever.”

I’m a little disappointed when the walk is over. The press is there and people are clapping and waving when we walk through the finish line. I stand for a little bit and cheer others through, while Tabitha looks for Roseanne. Not everyone who is running or walking is totally healthy; you can tell that some of these women are running to find a cure for themselves as much as for anyone else. I can’t help but feel a little proud of these women that I don’t even know. And I clap for them, imagining all the times I’ve wasted my applause at the Feed Meet, clapping automatically at articles on Scottish cyclists.

“Hey, Eve.” I turn and see Roseanne and Tabitha standing with my parents. Oh, my God! They are both in jogging suits. She’s wearing one of the scarves I got her. I run over to them.

“Did you guys do this?”

“What do you think, I quit smoking for nothing?” My dad pats his slightly smaller belly.

“But, Mom, do you feel okay?”

“Honey, I feel great. A lot of the women in my survivor’s group were doing this and I thought it was a good idea. I didn’t tell you, because I wasn’t sure I’d do it, but when I got up this morning I knew I had to. I left you a message this morning, but I guess you had already left. Let’s go get our totes of goodies.”

Afterward, we sit on the grass and eat cheese nips and ice cream bars. We got a lot of good loot—makeup and magazines—and stuff from all the sponsors.

“You did really well, Mrs. Vitali,” says Tabitha, going through my mom’s bag, “I’m a little jealous.”

“Yes, we survivors make out like bandits.”

Roseanne is stretching out in the grass. I lie on one of the mag
azines and put my new Breast Cancer Awareness shirt over my eyes and fall asleep.

“Eve, honey.” My mom is standing over me and I have no idea how much time has passed. I think she looks younger with no hair. I fell asleep, I guess on the grass, my butt feels wet. Great, grass stains. “Daddy and I are going to drive home. Want us to give you a lift back to the apartment?”

I sit up. Roseanne and Tabitha weren’t sleeping. I wonder what they were talking about with my parents. We all decide to head back. My mom reminds me (and I guess my friends) that my birthday is coming up in two weeks. Luckily, it’s a weeknight, so I can go home and have dinner with the ’rents and maybe, if anyone is planning anything, I can celebrate the weekend with my friends.

My parents hug my friends goodbye. Roseanne and Tabitha congratulate my mom on her run (that’s right, she ran—I walked). After they’re gone, we go home and sit out on the veranda for a while. Roseanne makes lemonade. Tabitha doesn’t smoke.

“You guys, I think I’m going to have an early night tonight,” Tabitha declares.

“Tabitha, did you get too much sun?”

“I’m fine really, I just think I want to go home and take a bath and try on my new lipsticks and maybe drink some cognac.”

“Cognac?” We both say in unison.

“Tab, it’s May. Pull out the mint juleps. Summer’s on the way.”

“Eve, don’t think in my overheated state you are going to get away with calling me Tab. Now, I’ll give you guys a call tomorrow. Maybe we’ll grab a fatty brunch. I think I worked off too many calories today. The last thing I want to do is lose my ass.”

She let’s herself out. Roseanne and I watch her hail a cab.

“Not much danger of her losing that ass.”

“How much money will you give me if she’s going to see a guy now?”

“How much money will you give me if she stops at Krispy Kreme first?”

“Eve, think it’s strange that we’re okay with the fact that she stole, then sold, our underwear—used underwear—to men who are probably using it to pleasure themselves?”

“I think what bothers me more is that she’s from upstate.” Roseanne looks at me, shocked. “Kidding. Just kidding. I don’t mind, really. I wouldn’t mind a percentage and I’m kind of sorry
that I didn’t come up with the idea but, if it keeps another loser off the street and Tabitha occupied, what’s the harm?”

“I guess you’re right. Do you want to have an early night tonight?”

“Not a chance.”

On Monday, Tabitha pressures me about what I’m going to wear to my meeting with Prescott. I had been trying not to think about it. I’m still considering canceling.

“Eve, I bought you a very smart suit at one of those sales, a Max Mara, for this very occasion. C’mon. Do it for me! Please.”

“As if I didn’t know. Don’t you remember
GoodFellas
when they were all excited about Joe Pesci becoming a made man, because they could never be made? He was the only true Italian. But when Joe Pesci got there, there was plastic on the floor and he knew right away. Pow!”

Wednesday comes before I know it. Tabitha’s idea of prepping me is forcing me to spend over a hundred dollars on conservative sandals. These sandals still manage to show the pedicure she also included in her grand scheme prepping. Tabitha insists that not having the right shoes or toenail polish will destroy my credibility.

“Well, don’t you think my credibility will be affected by the whole suspicious circumstances under which I’m meeting with him?”

“Eve, calm down, I can see you getting in one of your states. Just don’t start talking about obscure films or anything.”

I wind up getting the suit from her. I must say I look pretty smart. I take the subway to work and when the train comes and the wind pushes back my hair, I definitely feel like my life is starting over. This feeling lasts me through the morning all the way up until I get on the elevator to Prescott’s floor. I’ve never been on these elevators before. They are so hard core. The very first floor they stop on is forty-five. There is a certain distinction between the people that get on this elevator and the staff I’m used to. No one here bought their pants at Urban Outfitter.

I get to his floor, sixty. The receptionist looks me up and down—I know she can see through me. “Hi, I’ve got an appointment with Prescott, that is, Prescott Nelson.”

“Go right through.” I walk past a huge kitchen, an amazing oak conference room and (get this) a gym. There’s a well-dressed older woman at a big desk.

“Hi, I am Colleen Brandes. You must be Eve Vitali,” she says.
She’s figured it out. She is going to tell me that there has been an awful mistake, and could I please return to the lower floors with the rest of the peons. If not, she’ll call the armed guards.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“What a lovely name. Mr. Nelson is just finishing up a meeting, but we’ll bring you in in a moment.” She gestures to a plush sofa. I sit. I grab a magazine from the stack they have. The only other advice Tabitha did give me was to be aware of everything I did; all my body language, all my choices. Shit! Shit! Shit! I should have taken the financial magazine. I would have been taken seriously, then. Shit! What’s the name of our financial magazine? What if Prescott tests me on the names of all his magazines?

“Ms. Vitali, he can see you now, come with me.” Oh, my God!

I toss the magazine back on the table. Why did I toss? Why couldn’t I have placed? What is wrong with me?

I follow Prescott’s assistant down the hall. She is walking softly; why do these wretched sandals make so much noise? What if Prescott is sensitive to noise? Why haven’t they figured out my awful secret yet? I am destined to suffer for this. How could my friends not talk some sense in to me? We get to Prescott’s door. It’s closed. Colleen opens the door and puts her hand on my back to guide me in. No! No! I can’t do this. I resist her hand, but she is firm. She closes the door behind me.

Then we are alone in the office, just him and me. There seems like miles between us. The office is amazing. It takes me a second to realize the low hum is Prescott talking on the phone. He looks up and gestures me over. There is only one chair for me to sit on directly in front of his desk. I stare out past him at the large view of the Hudson. This is living! He is talking so softly I can’t make out what he’s saying. Finally, he hangs up, writes something down in his book and smiles at me.

“Hi, Eve. I suppose you know why I wanted to speak with you.” He’s got a Chicago accent.

“Look, I know, I’m sure it was a big mistake. I understand.” I look pleadingly at him. I am conscious of my pleading look. I tried it out in the mirror.

“Well, Eve, I randomly picked a sample of our temp force to speak with. Temporary and freelance employees are making up a larger part of our workforce and I wanted to talk to a bunch of you, personally, about ways we can make it easier for you.”

“That’s why?”

“Well, of course, didn’t you inquire when you got the e-mail?” I’m a dork.

“No, I didn’t. I thought it was some kind of mistake. If it was, I didn’t want to correct it. I thought it would be cool to have an audience with you.” Prescott laughs, it’s one of those gaspy laughs you expect from men down south who sit on porches and smoke too much. Any moment I expect him to slap his knees.

“An audience? Who am I? A king? A pope?” He laughs so hard, he actually wipes his eyes. Prescott must not get out much. Maybe I should tell him my “get on the subway and go straight to hell” line. That would really have him in stitches. Maybe I should see if he wants to come out for a drink with Tabitha and me.

“It’s just that I’m really excited to meet you. This is going to sound really brownnosey, but I admire you, my friends and I think you’re really cool.”

“Why, thank you.” He is still recovering a little from the laughing attack. He opens up a thick folder on his desk.

“Is that a folder about all the temps?”

“No, this is your folder.”

“My folder? How could you have that much stuff about me? Oh, my God, do you have copies of my e-mails in there?” He laughs again. I’m cracking this guy up.

“Your e-mails? Of course not.” But then he composes himself. “But, I would advise you to only use e-mails for official business. And be aware that anything that you write on e-mail is owned by the company.”

“Yeah, well you might want to start with all those people who think I’m interested in chain letters and dirty jokes.” He nods, considering this, I can’t believe I am sitting here talking to Prescott like a normal person. He laughs again.

“So all right then, Eve. Do you like working for Prescott Nelson Inc? How are things going down at
Bicycle Boy
with all the changes we have been implementing?”

“I guess okay. I think it’s going to take some getting used to, but we’ll do it.”

“Very nice, Eve, very diplomatic. You can be entirely truthful, this is to benefit you, not hinder your progress in any way. You can say whatever is on your mind. You have carte blanche.” Carte blanche, huh?

“I don’t know where to begin.” He looks at me, I think he
must dye his hair. I can’t believe it’s naturally silver. I’m trying to remember everything so I can tell Tabitha.

“I see here that you’ve applied for staff positions in quite a few of our magazines, most recently
Food and Fun.
You even sent story ideas to a few.”

“Now, you’re going way back.”

“Yes, it’s interesting that you stopped sending ideas into magazines around August of last year.”

“Wow! You did some thorough research on me. This is how you make the big bucks.” Prescott laughs some more about this, although not as maniacally.

“You know, a lot of good writers get rejected in the beginning. It’s never easy.”

“But it seems kind of fake, kind of wrong.”

“What does?”

“I was sending in all these ideas to magazines I didn’t really care about, to get a break, but what then, continue working on something I didn’t really care about?”

“And being an assistant is better?”

“No, worse. I hate it.” Maybe I should calm down, Prescott’s not my therapist. He closes the folder and leans back in the chair. “Look, I’m sorry.” So much for decorum. “I’m sure you didn’t intend to listen to all my gripes. My parents always taught me to be happy about getting paid. It didn’t work on my sister Monica, now here I am, complaining to you. My dad would kill me.”