by Nancy Werlin
“And I think: Why is everyone ignoring the smell? That’s crazy! And you know what? I’m not the kind of person who ignores things. I’m the kind of person who confronts things. That’s my personality. So. I do it. I take charge. I sniff the air ostentatiously. ‘ What’s that awful smell?’ I say.
“Now, I should mention that there are a couple of family dogs. And that before dinner, I was out in the yard playing with them.”
“Oh no,” murmured Cam.
“Oh yes. Oh yes, my friends. Yes, I have stepped in it. Yes, I have tracked it into the house. I have tracked it over the rag rug that was handmade by Great-Great-Grandma Matilda when she was crossing the prairie in a covered wagon powered by true grit—or true sin, depending on your understanding and interpretation of so-called American manifest destiny and the takeover of Native American lands. My understanding of history is just a little different from Seth’s family’s, let me just say that, so I wasn’t quite ready to worship at the shrine of Great-Great-Grandma Matilda. But none of that mattered right then, because what everybody at that table, including me, suddenly did understand was that it was on my shoe, underneath the dining room table, mixing with the smell of the barbecued ribs.” The storyteller paused. “And that, my friends, is when I threw up my barbecued ribs–flavored creamed corn. On the table. And the rug. Where I had already ground in . . . well, you know.”
We stared at him. Liv was the one who started the slow clapping, but we all joined in. The storyteller, Ali, stood up and gave a sweeping bow. When we finished laughing, this round’s card czar read all the entries but said the winner was Ali, no matter what card he’d put in.
I turned to Ali. “And your relationship actually survived?”
“It did.”
“Your boyfriend wasn’t mad?”
He grinned. “Once we were safely alone? Seth laughed until he cried. He proposed the next week. On bended knee.”
“And has his family forgiven you?” I pressed.
“We have—uh—swept it all under the rug.”
Everyone at the table groaned.
“And what they say behind my back is none of my business.”
I was the card czar next, and after I put down a black card, I told everyone the story of what had just happened to Sebastian and how I’d recognized that he was in insta-love. “What do we do to help him?” I asked. “He’s like freaking dying in that closet right now.”
“Not dying. He’s eating pizza,” Cam reminded me.
“This is Sebastian. He’d be able to eat pizza on his deathbed.”
“True.”
Cam said, “So, is there a way we can make things right between Sebastian and Squirrel Girl?”
“That’s not what I meant when I asked—” I started.
“Wait, what? You’re trying to fix his love life?” said Ali the storyteller.
“No!” I said, but Cam said, “Yes, why not?”
“Oh, dear naive one.” Ali shook his head. “Everybody has to find their own way. It’s like a law of the universe. The good news is that with every mistake you make, you learn and you do better the next time. Don’t butt in for your friend. Please. Interfering in love always backfires.”
Ursula the Sea Witch shook her head. “I totally disagree! Listen, I’ve matchmade for people—”
“There’s a difference between matchmaking and interfering—”
“But it’s good to try—”
A contentious discussion about love and life and friendship went on as we played. Josie snored through the whole thing, but I listened and eventually pulled out my bullet journal and took notes of the adult advice:
Then Liv said, “Zoe? You’re so busy taking notes. Do you want to ask for specific advice about you and Simon?”
Horrified, I glanced at the sleeping—I sincerely hoped—Josie and dropped my voice. “No!”
“You have this great opportunity to get experienced adult opinions,” Liv said coaxingly.
“I don’t need any!”
“You’re having love problems, too?” said the current card czar. “Like your friend in the closet with the pizza?” She was a compact white woman in her twenties, wearing antlers strung with lights.
I tried to make eye contact with Cam, but he kept his eyes stubbornly on his cards.
“My boyfriend is a totally great guy,” I said firmly to Antler Woman and Ali the storyteller and Ursula the Sea Witch and a man in a Captain Hammer T-shirt. They all looked back at me with enormous interest. They comprised all the players at this point, plus us.
“What’s this Simon look like?” said Ursula the Sea Witch.
I saw no harm in that. Au contraire. I showed her on my phone. She passed it around.
“Nice,” said Antlers.
“The intense type,” diagnosed Ali.
“Yes, he is. How’d you know?”
“It’s in the eyes. Is he here at Weird World?”
“No.”
“And he doesn’t know that Zoe is,” Liv put in. “She keeps her fangirl self a complete secret from him.”
Ali raised his brows.
“Why is that bad?” I demanded. “Do you tell your husband everything? I mean, he didn’t tell you that he ate meat at home, right?”
Ali made a dismissive hand motion. “The important, real-world things, we share.” He paused. “Yes, Seth should have warned me he ate meat at home, and told his mother I was vegan. He should’ve, and he knew he should’ve, but I get why he didn’t. He was afraid. We talked it out. It’s not like I’m perfect, either. It’s a work in progress, but the goal is that there’s no actual lying or deliberate evasion. That said, I don’t share everything that I think, and I don’t expect him to do that, either. I guess that’s the line.” He looked around the table. “Other knowledge in this area?”
Ursula the Sea Witch and Captain Hammer nodded. Antler Woman said, “I’m single. But yeah, it’s worked that way when I’m with someone. There is a line of discretion, I guess, but you shouldn’t cross over into dishonesty.”
Cam asked, “So how do you know when to say something and when to keep your mouth shut?”
“Experience is your teacher. And good sense, I guess. And fairness.” Ursula the Sea Witch shrugged. “But there are just some things you learn not to say, either, because it won’t do any good or it hurts their feelings or you know it’ll pass, it’s not important.”
“Or you don’t want to have that argument right now,” said Captain Hammer. “Or ever.”
“Or there’s no point, because this is just how it is,” said Antler Woman. “Like, I know better than to say, ‘ You were the one who said we should go I-95 and now we’re sitting in traffic and we should have used Waze to check the route like I said.’ ”
Ursula laughed. “Or, ‘ Why didn’t you pack a snack for the kids? You know what it’s like when they have a meltdown and I explained three times where the granola bars were.’ ”
Captain Hammer said, “ ‘How come you can’t just tell your sister that where we’re going on our vacation is not her business and neither is how much we spent on it? What’s so hard about that?’ ”
They were on a roll.
“ ‘You’ve told that story before like twenty times! Nobody wants to hear it again.’ ”
“ ‘Why did you order the marinara? You’ll be up all freaking night.’ ”
“ ‘I can’t stand your best friend.’ ”
“ ‘I told you not to have that third martini.’ ”
“ ‘Why can’t you be open to a little simple feedback?’ ”
I was nodding and scribbling notes as Liv cut in. “But wait, everybody. All your partners? They all know that you’re at Weird World being a fan? Even if they’re not here, too?”
“Yeah,” said Captain Hammer.
The others nodded.
Liv leaned in. “See, Zoe’s boyfriend thinks she’s in New Hampshire right now working on a political campaign.”
“Democratic?” asked Ursula.
“Of course!” I said, stung.
“No politics here,” said Antler Woman plaintively. “Please.”
“Okay, sorry, yeah. Getting back to love,” said Ursula. “Zoe—that’s your name, right? Zoe? Okay, so—”
“Wait,” I said, and held up a defensive hand. “Look. I’m not married to Simon. And it’s healthy for people in relationships to have separate interests.”
“Now, that’s true,” said Ursula. “You don’t want to be attached at the hip.”
“Thank you,” I said, and slid Liv a triumphant look.
Liv wouldn’t quit. “Isn’t this different?”
Ali shrugged. “Maybe. But remember what we said, up at the top? About not interfering in your friends’ relationships?”
“Yes,” Liv said warily.
“Unless there’s something really wrong that you suspect or know,” Antler Woman put in. “You know, like abuse.”
Everybody suddenly looked at me.
I blanched, shocked. “Liv, you don’t think—?”
“Oh, no,” Liv exclaimed. “Nothing like that! Just—just . . . okay, I’m sorry. I was out of line. Forgive me, Zoe.”
“Doesn’t anybody want my opinion?” said Josie, in a slurry, sleepy voice. “About my own brother?”
All heads swiveled to her end of the table.
I had actually forgotten she was there.
She didn’t lift her head or open her eyes. “Zoe’s lying to my brother about being a fan and about being here, but so am I, and we have to, because, and this is politics, sorry, but you can’t talk to Simon about practically anything fun. He thinks it’s almost, like, evil to not be serious and intense all the time. He wants to save the country and the planet and everything.”
“Social-justice warrior?” said Ursula.
“Yes, always, but he used to laugh more. Zoe doesn’t know that. She didn’t know him then. But it doesn’t matter because now he has to save the world all the time.”
“He’d dump me,” I said. The words burst from me. “Which I don’t want. Also, he’s right about—this is more politics, sorry—but see, I’m Jewish. I understand what happens in the long term if you don’t fight back against hate. So, we have to resist. I’m on board for that, and I’m glad to have a boyfriend who understands this stuff, and not someone who—who plays the piano and sings all day like a grasshopper or whatever. It’s just that I need a vacation from it sometimes.
“I love my show!” I said. “I love my Bloodygits.” I swept my hand toward them. “My fan friends. But I also love my boyfriend. He’s—he’s lawful good! Who doesn’t want that in their life?”
Everybody was quiet then, and finally Liv nodded and said, “Sorry, Zoe. This is your business and not mine.”
Ursula the Sea Witch said to Liv, “She’ll turn to her friends when and if she needs to. I can tell she will. Don’t worry. Meanwhile, she’ll work out her relationship and her feelings on her own as best she can.”
“Which is what we all have to do,” said Antler Woman. “Work our problems out.”
“No! I don’t need to work out anything,” I said. “Everything is fine. Fine! There are no problems. This is one of those things like you talked about, that you don’t need to say. And I’m getting away with it, anyway.”
There was silence until Ali the storyteller said, “We hear you. Whose turn is it next?”
“Me,” Cam said, and dealt a card.
The last weeks of December meant vacation for the college Bloodygits. We’d scheduled a group video chat—our substitute for attending a con. It was terribly disappointing not to get to hang out with everyone in person, though.
The upside was thrift. Belt tightening was desperately necessary. My savings had taken serious hits lately (wince—travel for two; double wince—Aragorn).
I’d turned down reimbursement for Aragorn. I was still kicking myself, maybe. Or maybe not. Sebastian had offered to pay me back on a monthly installment plan. Only I just couldn’t let him. Yes, it was a giant chunk out of my savings, nearly half of what had taken me so long to accumulate, but I did have those savings, not to mention the ability to ask my parents for help in situations where I really did need money. And Sebastian was so woebegone. This was something I could do for him and it was a privilege to be able to help, really. I had told him that instead he should pay it forward one day to another friend. I’d even assured him that I liked Aragorn, had him on the wall, and planned to take him with me to college. Sebastian had been transparently relieved. Fortunately, he did not ask what Simon thought of Aragorn.
Soon I would be doing better financially. Surely! I had a plan. There would be Hanukkah money from Aunt Kath and from my bubbe on the Rosenthal side. And then, after I had Ellen From Finance installed as spokescat, we’d have an enormous influx of new customers and, therefore, Mrs. Albee would give me a raise. I wondered how much to ask for. I wondered if the raise could be retroactive to when I’d begun scheming working on the Ellen From Finance plan. Once I figured out the exact right approach for persuading Mrs. Albee about Ellen From Finance.
I had made the mistake of mentioning my desire for extra pay to Simon. He’d leapt into fix-it mode, offering to try to get me a job doing something “more socially meaningful.” Now that his job with our new state senator was permanent, he had “connections,” he said.
Since I didn’t actually want a new and more socially meaningful job—no matter how much I complain about Wentworth—I’d been forced to ask if it wouldn’t trouble him to use his privilege that way. Ten seconds later, he’d thanked me for my insight, for understanding his situation, and for putting him first and sacrificing my own best interests for his.
I teetered between being pleased with myself for my deft handling and wondering if I was being manipulative. If only I had never learned about character alignments!
On the bright side, Mrs. Albee was exploring my other idea, the one that had not required any sneaking around, involving packing her soaps in yarn for shipping. It would be cute, it was reuse-recycle friendly, and it would make our product appeal to cat people who knit—like Aunt Kath. I had already set up baskets at two local yarn shops to collect scraps.
Purr-fect!
Josie and I sprawled on my bed with my laptop open. We had just taken the Bloodygits on a virtual Rosenthal house tour, mostly so that they could view Aragorn in our family room.
MELDEL: (Approvingly) He dominates the space.
TODD: A masculine man! It’s good to see him situated where all can worship.
ME: Yeah, well, my mother was here when the package came, and she was desperately curious because it was so huge. I had to open it in front of her.
I could not, in front of Sebastian, say that my original plan had been to loan Aragorn to Maggie. She could have used the distraction. Maggie was in the fight of her young life over what her parents were insisting on calling her “gap year” plan.
ME: Then my mother told me it was a lovely gift for her, and told my father she wanted it in their bedroom. At first I didn’t realize she was joking!
LIV: Too much information, Zoe.
CAM: So your mom didn’t notice the bloodstains?
TODD: What bloodstains? I did a really good job cleaning before I shipped it.
MELDEL: It’s true.
TODD: I want credit for taking it to be shipped too. It’s heavy! But of course, I’m strong like bull.
ME: Long story short, he ended up in the family room. An heirloom, my mom says.
CAM: A fairytale ending.
ME: Well, it’s not quite exactly the end.
JOSIE: Right, because now Zoe has to keep my brother out of the family room when he visits. Because what if he asks and then Zoe’s parents say it’s hers and it got shipped to her from Weird World by some guy. They were very interested in you, Todd, by the way. Zoe’s parents, I mean.
CAM: Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.
TODD: Why are they interested in me? Not t
hat I’m not fascinating. I get it. But they haven’t actually met me.
ME: Actually, Simon’s been so busy lately that he hasn’t been over much, so it’s a nonissue. Did I tell you Bloodygits that after Alisha Johnson Pratt won, she offered him a permanent job at the State House?
TODD: Artful change of subject by Rosenthal! Two points!
MELDEL: You may have mentioned this new job, yes.
SEBASTIAN: You’ve told us. Bloodygits, please, can we talk about something other than Aragorn? I am still very sensitive.
CAM: You’re doing better, though. I can tell.
MELDEL: You smiled about Zoe’s mom.
SEBASTIAN: I may no longer lie awake in an agony of remembered humiliation, or at least not for more than an hour a day. Still, I would prefer to change the subject.
ME: I was trying to.
CAM: But first, what’s this about Zoe’s parents and Todd?
TODD: I am strangely curious myself!
JOSIE: Oh, just that after Zoe’s parents saw Todd’s name on Aragorn’s return address, they asked about him.
ME: (Sarcastically) Were you there, Josie? No, you were not.
JOSIE: You told me. You were like vibrating with anxiety.
TODD: Ooh la la! Am I now viewed as potential competition to Simon for the fair Zoe? Intriguing!
ME: Shut up, Todd.
TODD: I feel sure I could destroy Simon in single combat.
ME: In a video game? Possibly true.
TODD: The lady is scornful! I would try to win her from Simon the Undeserving, were my heart not pledged to another.
ME: Shut up, Todd.
JOSIE: The point here is that Zoe’s parents want my brother to have competition. Even someone like Todd, not that they know you, Todd.
TODD: What’s that supposed to mean? I feel injured.
ME: Josie.
JOSIE: What?
ME: Bloodygits? Excuse us. Josie and I need a minute to talk. Alone.
I muted my laptop and scowled at Josie.
“It’s true,” Josie said defensively. “I know it.”