by Meg Napier
Alice crossed her arms over her chest. “It can’t be that simple.”
“Sure it can.” He checked his watch. “Look, we’ve got to get back to work. I bet if you let her talk to you, you’ll get whatever answer you’re looking for, good or bad. Because if it’s bad, at least you’ll know. You won’t spin your wheels thinking about the what-ifs; you’ll get on with the what-nows.”
Alice stood from the bar stool. “I’m going to hate it if you’re right.”
“Yeah, but eventually you’ll thank me. Come on, we’ve got orders to fill.”
She placed the bar stool back in its proper place and busied herself with tasks. The afternoon was punctuated by cars pulling up and customers picking up six-packs from the cart they’d stationed by the entrance. Finally, the clock ticked down their last hour and the two of them locked up for the night.
Alice entered her apartment and poured herself a glass of cheap white wine. It was bitter and probably on its way to spoiling, but it would get the job done. She was settling into her sofa when there was a sharp knock at the door. With a groan, she pulled herself up and opened the door to find Meg with an excited gleam in her eyes.
“We’ve got the signatures!”
Alice pulled her in and quickly shut the door. Meg carelessly took off her mask, a plain blue piece of cloth with elastic straps around her ears, and said, “Petition’s ready to go when you are!”
“Last I checked, there were roughly forty signatures.”
Meg looked puzzled. “Haven’t you been reading the emails people have been sending in?”
She hadn’t, not wanting to wade into anything that reminded her of Meg. “I’ve been busy,” she said weakly.
“Well, I’ve been reading them, and it turns out most of them are as fed up with the leasing office as you are, but didn’t know how to make their voices heard. Some were grateful that we have this in the works and are hoping it will have an impact.”
“It’s not much,” Alice said with a shrug.
“It’s not much, but it’s something. An ounce of relief is still relief. A small amount of hope is still hope.”
The platitude grated on Alice’s nerves. She hadn’t ignored the headlines that came fast and furious through her phone. But now that she had her income back, she could still manage. She would be fine.
“I’m not sure if it’s worth it anymore,” she said without looking at Meg.
Meg released a short breath. “The petition or something else?”
Alice glared at her. “You tell me.”
She was done playing games. Mike had told her to be gentle with Meg, but she frankly didn’t want to be gentle. She deserved plain, honest answers.
Meg chewed her bottom lip. “If this is about the kiss and everything, we can talk about that later. I’d like to, if that means anything. Right now, though, our neighbors are counting on us at least to make their voices heard and try to get the leasing office to ease up on levying these costs.”
“Nothing’s stopping you from sending on that petition. In fact, they’d probably take it more seriously coming from you than me. I’m a nobody, remember? Forgettable, if I’m being brutally honest.”
Meg had witnessed this sort of breakdown before. In those quiet, desperate moments when things seemed out of control, Meg had counseled her candidates and urged them to press on, leaving it all on the field and running out the clock. There are far too many sports metaphors in this business, she thought.
This was different. This was personal. Yes, she could deliver the petition on her own, and that would satisfy the unspoken social contract between her and the other residents. It would be a hollow gesture, though, without Alice there with her when it happened. This endeavor had been Alice’s initial idea.
But where did all this talk of hiding come from? Then it hit her like a freight train. She said quietly, “I should have explained about Charlie. I’m sorry I didn’t. I didn’t think it was that important.”
Alice scoffed. “A marriage not being important? I may not belong to a church anymore, but even I know that marriages tend to be significant.”
Meg was thrown off kilter. This was a messaging problem she couldn’t spin to any advantage. “It was different in those days! Don’t forget that it wasn’t until 1974 that women could get credit cards in their own names.”
“And all you had to do was bide your time until you could get one of your very own,” Alice pointed out.
Meg threw up her hands in exasperation. “Nothing I say will make you understand. Just because we were told we could do things didn't mean we knew how. For all the bra-burners, there were as many women who were scared. Some of us were still being told the whole purpose of an education was to get an MRS degree and learn how to decorate our suburban homes. Some in the media were promoting women’s lib and telling us to live our own true selves, but no one gave any sort of blueprint.”
“So you married a man to get ahead.”
“Yes, and I helped enable real change.”
“All while living a lie.”
Before Meg could respond, Alice held up her hand. “Look, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know why I expected someone with a political background not to be hypocritical, but I won’t be making that mistake again.”
Meg sighed in defeat. “I can only apologize for not telling you sooner. The relationship I have with Charlie is significant, but there’s no easy way to explain it. But since you’ve said you don’t want to hear it, I won’t bother you anymore. Good luck with your future endeavors.”
“You too, Meg,” Alice curtly replied.
Meg turned on her heel and reached for the door handle. She paused, and without turning to look back at the young woman who’d given her a glimmer of hope—among other things—she said, “I’ll let you know when I send over the petition. I hope to see you after it’s been delivered. I wish you’d be there to see this through.”
Without waiting for a response, she walked out Alice’s door for what felt like the final time.
Chapter 8
True to her word, Meg sent Alice a short text informing her that she’d dropped off the printed copy in the leasing office’s mailbox and that she’d sent them an electronic copy for good measure. In response, Alice sent back a thumbs-up emoji and went about her day.
She and Mike were slammed filling orders. Alice was pressing paninis as fast as she could while Mike filled crowlers and manned the brewery’s phone. When the rush subsided, she checked her phone and saw an email that filled her with dread.
“Ms. Smith, please meet with the Glenwood Apartments leasing management at the leasing office at 3 o’clock this afternoon. Regards, Donna Edwards, Property Manager.”
“That was quick,” she muttered.
She ran to where Mike stood hunched over the can seamer. She let him finish sealing the crowler before she said, “Boss, can I call in a favor?”
“Whatcha need?”
“Time off this afternoon, unfortunately. As in within the next hour.”
Mike looked at her, his eyebrows raised to his hairline. “This is about that petition, isn’t it?”
“Most likely. I’m really sorry to leave you hanging but—”
“Stop. I wouldn’t do this for anyone other than you. There hasn’t been a food order for a bit. Go ahead and let me know it goes.”
Alice thanked him and got in her car. She wondered if Meg got the same email and tried not to hope that she’d be there. Much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t think she could face the management staff alone, especially if they brought some hot-shot lawyer in as backup.
Arriving home, she saw a text from Mike: “Whatever they’ve got to say, you’ve got this. You’re sticking up for your neighbors and sticking up for the little guy is always the right thing to do.”
She typed, “This coming from a business owner like you?”
“Small business, ma’am. I’m also the little guy.”
She smiled to herself, shut the door, and we
nt up the concrete steps. Though the office was officially closed, the door handle turned, and Alice made her way inside. Behind the glass doors to her left sat Donna and an unfamiliar man in a black suit and pink tie at a long conference table, the two of them wearing plain grey masks. Across from them was Meg, who looked transported from the Hill. She wore a red mask, which was strikingly paired with a navy-blue pinstripe skirt suit and stark white blouse. If Alice hadn’t already known her, she’d be terrified of this dragon in stilettos. Seated next to her was an older man wearing a polo shirt, khakis, and a mask covered with brown gavels.
I’m underdressed, Alice thought as she sat in the remaining empty chair.
Donna cleared her throat and pulled out a tape recorder, pressing a button. “We’re going to record this meeting. Let’s introduce ourselves.”
The man next to Meg interjected. “Excuse me, but Maryland is an all-party consent state. Everyone present must consent to being recorded.”
Donna rolled her eyes. “Fine. Please give your consent to the recording. I, Donna Edwards, Property Manager of Glenwood Apartments in Garysville, Maryland, consent to being recorded.”
Mr. Pink Tie muttered his consent. Alice, who hadn’t caught his name, didn’t do anything and waited for either Meg or the other man to respond.
“I, Megyn Roberts, resident of Glenwood Apartments in Garysville, Maryland, do not consent to having this conversation recorded.”
Donna looked irritated and glanced at the man next to Meg, who said, “I, Charles Roberts, former Solicitor General of the United States and retired partner of Covington and Burley Law Partners, do not give consent to having this conversation recorded.”
So this is the mysterious Charlie, Alice thought. Meg pulled out the big guns for this.
Donna hesitated, then turned off the recorder. She huffed and said, “I recently received a disturbing phone call from a reporter at the local ABC affiliate, along with a petition for removing the shared spaces from the residents’ rental obligations. Your names,” and she pointed at Alice and Meg, “were at the top. I’m surprised this needs to be said, but bullying won’t be tolerated.”
Alice wanted to bite back, but Meg beat her to it. Calmly, she said, “A petition is not bullying. Most of the residents believe it is unfair that the cost of these spaces is coming out of their pockets while they are unable to use them.”
“I understand that,” Donna replied.
“Yet you still expect us to pay,” Alice spoke up. “Some of us were barely scraping by before the crisis, and even lost our jobs because of it. We’re not asking to freeze rent entirely, but you’ve got to give us a break.”
“Technically, we don’t ‘got to’ do anything,” Donna said sarcastically.
Alice glanced over at Meg, who subtly shook her head. Meg turned back to the property manager and said, “We understand you are not under any legal obligation to honor, much less respond to this petition. We greatly appreciate you taking the time to meet with us face-to-face and accommodating us according to health guidelines.”
Donna sat back in her chair, looking pleased with herself. That can’t be it, Alice thought.
“However, it would be a shame if future tenants who wanted to lease with Glenwood Apartments learned how the property management company treated its residents, some of whom have lived here upwards of a decade, during this crisis. I would hate to be in your position should potential tenants miss out on living here because the management chose not to work with current tenants and grant them relief during what is a difficult time for everyone.”
Donna shrugged. “This is a hot neighborhood, Ms. Roberts. There’s always someone looking for a new apartment, and we are happy to provide them with one.”
“I’m sure your waiting list is full of eager customers, Ms. Edwards. However, please note that a Forbes poll showed that of all characteristics a business has, company integrity ranked in the top three among millennials.”
“We have a bottom line to keep in mind.”
“As do your tenants.” Meg sat back in her chair.
Alice couldn’t help but marvel at her. She wasn’t losing her temper, merely stating facts and weaving a tapestry of persuasion. Perhaps she could have done this alone, but having an important man flanking her added to the punch. Nothing overt, merely a hint at the depth of their bench.
Meg continued. “Right now, you have the opportunity to be a standout amongst property management companies in the region and protect your residents from collection agents and eviction notices. I don’t know what that reporter told you, or even what he or she might be working on, but I would hate to see Glenwood’s reputation tarnished due to its own avarice.”
Meg stood from the chair while Donna blinked. “Please excuse me. I need to use the ladies’ room.”
She left and Alice looked from Donna to Charlie, wondering if she should say anything. Donna and Mr. Pink Tie were passing notes to each other while Charlie sat comfortably with his hands folded in his lap. Alice launched herself up and ran to the bathroom to find Meg primping in the mirror and watching her phone.
“I’m giving them five minutes to mull things over,” she said, not looking at Alice.
There was so much Alice wanted to say: that she was both sorry for what she’d done and grateful for what Meg was trying to do, that she should have listened to Mike and been patient with Meg explaining her past, and that she desperately wanted a chance to make things right between them. But those words wouldn’t come.
Instead, the only thing she could think to say was, “Somehow you make terrifying look incredible.”
Meg let out a breath and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“It wasn’t like I had a choice.”
“You could have ignored that email. You showed up instead.”
“It didn’t look like I could have ignored it.”
Meg turned and looked at her with a kindness Alice felt she didn’t deserve. “Alice, that woman is not your boss, and neither am I. There isn’t anyone for you to obey. You chose to be here; I know that was difficult for you. For what it’s worth, I’m immensely proud of you and I admire your courage.
“Now, if I keep them waiting any longer, they’ll start to wonder if I’ve succumbed to an embarrassing digestive ailment. Can’t give them that idea. I’ll see you back in there.”
With a final straightening of her blazer, Meg walked out of the bathroom, leaving Alice at the sink. She gripped the countertop and steadied her breathing.
She wasn’t alone anymore.
Alice took a deep breath, washed her hands, and went back to the conference room to wait until she could talk to Meg again. She prayed, for the first time in years, that Meg would hear her out.
Perhaps having Charlie next to her was heavy-handed, though at this point he was simply disarming window-dressing. Meg sat back in the stiff office chair and remained silent. Donna and the man next to her, who never introduced himself but was most likely Glenwood’s legal representation, continued to discuss things quietly.
She who talks first loses, she reminded herself.
From the corner of her eye, she watched Alice sit back down. She was grateful that her mask concealed the huge smile on her face.
Finally, Donna directed her attention back to them. “You have pointed out things we at Glenwood hadn’t considered. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. This afternoon, we will announce a payment plan for tenants, with the option for our most vulnerable residents to waive the amenity fees. Those who have applied for unemployment will be the first to have this option extended to them.”
Meg glanced at Alice, hoping that this would be enough of a concession for her. It wasn’t everything, but it was more than Meg had hoped for.
Alice inclined her head once and Meg let out the breath she’d been holding. “Thank you, Ms. Edwards. I’m sure the residents of Glenwood will dearly appreciate this.”
“You’ll call off your attack dog?”
“A repo
rter isn’t an attack dog. Like I said, I don’t know what he or she intends to report, but I have a feeling that this announcement will result in nothing but positive press for you and for the management staff. We look forward to hearing from you later today.”
She and Charlie stood up and left the room, Alice following close behind. They exited the building and faced Alice.
“How did you do all of that?” she asked.
“When someone doesn’t have facts or public sentiment on their side, they’re vulnerable to a little shake-up,” Charlie added.
Meg realized that now was as good an opportunity to explain her relationship to both of them. She gestured to Charlie. “Alice, please meet my former husband, Charles Roberts. Charlie, please meet Alice, the instigator of this project.”
Charlie inclined his head to Alice. “It’s a pleasure to meet the woman I’ve heard so much about. All good things, of course. Now, it looks like the two of you have plenty to talk about, and you don’t need a grizzled barrister hovering. Megyn, it’s been a pleasure working with you, as always. Alice, stay strong. You have potential, don’t ever forget that.”
With that, Charlie turned and walked toward his car.
An awkward silence fell between them. Luckily, Alice said, “It’s a nice day. Can I walk you back to your place?”
“I’d like that,” Meg answered.
Her stilettos shortened her strides and she was dearly looking forward to peeling off this getup and sinking back into clothes with elastic. Nonetheless, when Meg noticed that they were not taking the most direct path to her apartment, she didn’t mind the detour.
“I know it’s not precisely what we asked for, but I think this will do a great deal of good for the neighborhood. Hopefully the tenants will see that.”
Alice said, “It’s a compromise. At least now people will have wiggle room. I’m counting that as a victory.”
“You may yet have a career in politics.”