Lara Reznik - The Girl From Long Guyland

by Lara Reznik

“You used to be my top pupil. Something’s changed.”

  “It’s just, well, boyfriend problems. But everything is cool now. I promise to be prepared for Wednesday.”

  His steely eyes pierced through my bullshit. “A little more factual and less creative than your essay on the Emancipation Proclamation. You don’t want to jeopardize that scholarship of yours.”

  “I won’t, sir. Thanks for taking this time to speak to me.” I continued to the door.

  “And Laila,” he said.

  I rotated back around. “Yes.”

  “Happy birthday.”

  THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON was spent perched on my bed studying the Civil War reconstruction and trying to forget I’d ever met the family.

  At four o’clock, Denise moseyed into the room. We talked for a while but she never mentioned anything about my birthday. Did she even know? She asked me what transpired between Ben and me at Rodman’s.

  “Evidently Chris is devastated about last night,” I said but left out the part about Ben and me.

  She sighed. “Ever since that night you brought them here, all the girls have been talking about those two. You’re the envy of everyone, even Katie.”

  “Really?”

  She smacked my arm. “I wish my life had that kind of excitement in it.”

  “Something horrible happened I haven’t told you about.” I leaned back on my pillows. “Joey was there in Taos. He got involved with Ben and Chris and, well, it’s a long story.”

  “What are you talking about? Joey’s home in Queens taking care of his Mama,” she said.

  “He’s not. The family hired him to bring back a suitcase of weed and then it got hijacked by the distributor.”

  Her face lit up. “No shit.”

  “The horrifying part is Joey lost a couple of toes due to frostbite. I swore not to tell you.”

  “Wow. I had no idea my Joey was involved with such heavy shit.” His stock had just risen in her book. Instead of freaking her out, Denise seemed turned on by Joey’s trauma. She smiled at me. “Go to that dinner. Keep living life on the wild side, Laila.”

  I thought about Rojo and pregnant Peaches, Dennis Hopper’s party with all the Hollywood weirdos. And then there was Joey freezing out in the snow, Ivy’s self-induced abortion, and Chris’s infidelity. And yes, I was guilty of sleeping with Ben. But I’d never forget the feeling of my heart exploding in my chest as I went through airport security. I’d had enough of life on the wild side.

  Just the same, I headed to shower and got ready for tonight. Like a drug addict, I needed a fix.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The Lockout

  Austin, Texas, 2012

  Ed smells of Irish Spring soap as he cuddles next to me with his arm wrapped around my waist. We’re both naked and flushed from our recent lovemaking. “I’m so relieved to be back home again,” he whispers then tickles my ear with his tongue.

  The tune of “Yesterday” forces me from the delicious dream into the stark reality of my current life. The bedroom is cold and dark, and the clock next to my bed says 5:35 a.m. Ed is still in New Mexico with Juanita. After two nights in Tucson, I’ve returned home to Austin with a confession of eternal love from Ben. I never did get to see Chris again.

  The Beatles song continues on my iPhone which is vibrating on the granite countertop in the bathroom. I stagger from bed in the dark and grab the phone. DARLENE pops up on the LCD.

  I answer like I’m on call at the Help Desk where I started my I.T. career.

  “My badge won’t work.” Darlene’s voice sounds frantic.

  “What?”

  “I’m at LBJ. Can’t get in the building.”

  I yawn. “Why are you there so early?”

  “To work. I’m a V.P. Why the fuck else would I be here?”

  “Don’t chew my head off. I get it.”

  She sniffles on the other end. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Why don’t you call the Help Desk?”

  “What good will that do?” she asks. “We both know I’ve been riffed.”

  “That’s crazy. Maybe the system’s down.”

  “Here comes a cleaning person. We’ll see if his badge works… Ah, Señor. ¿Puede usted enséñame?” There’s a pause and then she says, “He’s inside.”

  “His badge worked?” I ask.

  “His, yes. Mine, no. Bad fucking sign.” She’s toast. “That’s the end, right?”

  I swallow. “It could be.” H.R. should notify her before 8:00 a.m. by phone.

  “Would you check your e-mail, Laila?” Darlene knows as CIO I receive a daily list of who’s been fired. There’s been quite a few since the LBJ manager meeting at the Burnet Exotic Game Ranch.

  “I’ll call you right back.”

  “I can hold,” she says.

  “You should go home and get yourself a cup of coffee. Hug the kids.”

  She laughs. “What home? Richard gained temporary custody of the kids and the house.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “Some shithole apartment on Lamar. Lots of loser divorcees like me for company.”

  “Go to Starbucks on Bee Cave. I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes,” I say.

  After we hang up, I turn on my i-Mac and remote into my LBJ Outlook account. There’s an e-mail to all LBJ employees from Bob Englewood. Darlene has officially been canned.

  I slip on a pair of jean overalls and a T-shirt I’d left on the chair next to my bed. Then I brush my teeth, and stick my hair into a barrette. The sunrise soaks the horizon with pink and gold as I rush out the door.

  Willow howls at me.

  “Oh geez, I forgot to feed you, girl.”

  Ten minutes later Willow’s belly is full and I’m trucking down Ranch Road 620 with NPR news on the radio. I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. Puffy dark circles, hair resembling a Brillo pad. I should have taken the time to shower and dress for work. As the new CIO, I can’t go to LBJ looking like this. After my meeting with Darlene, I will need to return home to shower and change.

  When I arrive at the Bee Cave Starbucks, I find Darlene hunched over a table by the window. She has on her usual Texas debutante mask of makeup, and a tailored business suit. But her silk blouse hangs from the back of the skirt, and streaks of black mascara run down her cheeks.

  She hands me a large cappuccino. “Vanilla, right?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “The news is bad, isn’t it?”

  I shrug. “With your credentials you shouldn’t have a hard time—”

  “Shut up. Don’t sugarcoat this, honey.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  She points at my phone. “Show me the e-mail.”

  I slide my finger through windows on my iPhone, and hand it to her.

  She stares at the e-mail for a long time. When she looks up, her eyes are moist.

  “You need to fight this,” I say surprising myself at the conviction in my voice. “He can’t discard you like this.”

  She raises her Starbucks cup in a toast, signs of her dignity returning. “You’re right. This is a blatant case of sexual harassment and retaliation. Fucks me, dumps me, fires me.”

  “True.”

  She gnaws on a fingernail. “I’ll hire a lawyer.”

  “Why not?” I think of Steve Berman but don’t say anything. He’s one of Austin’s best labor lawyers.

  “Thank God I brought you in as go-between. Can you imagine if we’d used one of his people?”

  I blink. Just what I need, more complications in my life.

  “You will help me?”

  “Of course.” But can I afford it?

  She stands up and tucks the stray end of her blouse back into her skirt. “I’ll call you later.”

  I stand, too. “Er, sure.”

  She hugs me. “You’re all I’ve got right now, Laila.”

  As I walk to the parking lot, I receive a call from Bob Englewood. He wants to know if I’ve spoken
to Darlene this morning. I don’t see any reason to lie and confess that we just had coffee.

  “How soon can you be in my office?”

  I look down at my stained overalls. “I’ve got to go home. I’m not dressed appropriately for work. About an hour and a half, sir.”

  “Drive here now. I don’t care if you’re in your pajamas.”

  BOB E.‘S OFFICE IS DARK except the dim light of a lamp. He’s wearing a grey pinstripe suit with a starched white shirt and yanks at the tie around his neck like it’s choking him.

  If only I’d dressed in anything but these stained overalls.

  He offers me coffee and buzzes Suzi Lin to bring it in. She wobbles in on stilettos with a silver pot and two mugs a few minutes later. “Ivy Foreman just arrived. Should I send her in?”

  Before Bob E. can answer, Ivy saunters inside dressed in a low-cut black dress. Once again she ignores my existence, directing her big boobs and adoring gaze at Bob E. “What was Darlene’s reaction?”

  Bob E. nods at me. “Why don’t you ask her?”

  She glares at me through her lawn of glued-on eyelashes. “Nice outfit.”

  “Remind you of better times?” I ask.

  “Watch what you say, Guyland Girl.”

  Bob E. scratches his head. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

  I smile. “Back in the day.”

  Rather than denying this fact, she launches into the consequences I fear most. “Make sure you’re clear whose side your on. Flip-flopping is not an option if you want to stay employed. Capiche?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is Darlene?” Bob E. says in a soothing drawl. Like he cares. “We’ve offered her a nice severance package.”

  “Which she forfeits if she sues LBJ,” Ivy adds. “What is she planning?”

  “I-I don’t know.” There’s a vibration in my voice I can’t control.

  “Play ball with us,” Bob E. says. “Better we know you’re on our team. Is she hiring an attorney?”

  Is there any point of lying to them? “Yes.”

  Bob E. presses the intercom button. “Suzi, get Steve Berman on the line.” He smiles at Ivy. “Hopefully, Darlene hasn’t called him first.”

  Jesus, not Steve. This can’t be happening.

  He smiles at me. “You won’t be sorry for sharing, Laila.”

  But I already am.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The Surprise

  Bridgeport, Connceticut, 1970

  The thought of Ivy cooking for me made me laugh out loud. I dressed in a sexy black Danskin and tight Levis for the family dinner. My hair fell to my shoulders in wild ringlets that matched my mood. As I headed to the elevator, the dorm monitor broadcasted my name.

  I leaped down the hall to the phone and seized the receiver from Mary Lou, whose arm jiggled with surplus fat as she handed me the receiver. “Sounds like your mother.”

  “What?” I put the phone to my ear. “Hello,”

  “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Laila. Happy birthday to you.” My parents sang in unison as they did every year. This being the first one I wasn’t home.

  “Hi, Ma. Hi, Pop.” A tear bubbled up in my eye. It seemed like a lifetime ago since we’d spoken. “Thanks for the call.”

  “Did you get our card?” my mother said.

  “And the check?” added Pop.

  “Ah, yes,” I lied. “Thank you so much. Cute card.” The truth was I hadn’t checked my mailbox in days. Too busy flying to New Mexico to pick up a suitcase of marijuana.

  “We thought you’d like the picture of the girl with the peace sign for a face,” said Pop. “The war stinks. Hope we can get that SOB Nixon out of the White House next election.”

  Pop was a die hard Dem and we had shared a love of the Kennedys when I was growing up. However, as a World War II Veteran, he’d supported the Vietnam war and was furious at me at my high school graduation when I’d worn a black armband in protest of it. Not to mention when I scraped off the American flag sticker from his car. “I’m glad you feel that way now, Pop.”

  My mother chimed in. “I saw the Klafters at Waldbaums. Ilene looked liked she’s aged ten years since poor Billy got killed.”

  The war had now hit home with my parents. It made me feel less alienated from them. “Gotta go, guys. I was just heading to the er, library to study for an exam.”

  “No celebration for your birthday?” Ma asked.

  “Oh, they had a cake for me this afternoon.” Another lie. Why was I making things up?

  Ma sighed. “That’s nice. Eighteen years old. You have your whole life in front of you, dear. Don’t do anything foolish.”

  “Of course not.” If she had any idea.

  “When will we see you?” Pop asked.

  “After finals, I guess. I’ll let you know. Someone’s waiting to use the phone. Love you both. Bye.”

  As I rode the elevator down to the lobby, I compared my family in Long Island with my new one here in Bridgeport. Somewhat conditional love, versus what? Lust, danger, insanity? If I had any brains, I’d press the fourth floor button and zip right back to my room.

  I smiled at the bikers eyeballing me as I sashayed past Rodman’s diner. Still fearful of the wrath of Doc, not one of them dared do anything more than grin back. When I reached the family house on Main Street, the lights were out in the whole upstairs apartment. Using my key, I opened the downstairs door and padded up the steps to the second floor. I placed my other key in the lock, and pushed open the door. The room was pitch black. Where was everyone?

  “Surprise!” said a group of male and female voices in unison as the lights simultaneously came on.

  There before me stood Ben, Chris, Denise, Katie, Doc, Drake, Ivy and three other of my Bodine dorm mates as well as a couple of strange guys I’d never seen before. Purple and black balloons and streamers gave the room a festive aura.

  Chris stepped forward and kissed me. “Happy Birthday, Laila.”

  “Bet you thought we forgot,” Katie said, as she held her arms out to hug me. “It was Denise’s idea.”

  Denise smiled and waved at me from the back of the living room.

  I was speechless. No one had ever thrown me a surprise party before. Whatever doubts I’d had earlier about belonging with these people, my new family, dissipated.

  Ivy had put together a feast of roasted chickens, mashed potatoes and an array of vegetables. A carrot cake with cream-cheese icing sat on the counter. She greeted me with a snide smile that reminded me to keep my guard up. I hadn’t forgotten she’d been with Chris the other night.

  Ben filled everyone’s glasses with Ripple wine and Chris loaded up the bong and passed it around.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Ivy called from the kitchen.

  Everyone served themselves on paper plates. People sat with their food on pillows scattered around the floor in the living room. Conversations revolved around the war and what type of weed people liked. The bong made endless rounds, and new bottles of Ripple kept appearing from the kitchen.

  Time and space were fused and out of focus. I began to say something to Denise about racism, and found myself discussing feminism with Doc. At one point, I held the bong and tapped Chris on the shoulder. “Is this the stuff I brought back from Taos?”

  He put his finger on my lips. “Shhh. Don’t talk about business now.”

  I wondered if we’d ever talk about what happened.

  As the night wore on, I noticed Ivy cuddling up to Chris. Was it my imagination or did she kiss his neck? Or was she just whispering something in his ear? Another Bodine roommate sat on his other side and I could swear he had his hand on her knee. Was it riding up to her thigh? No, no, he was pointing at me. “Laila, come over here,” he said from across the room.

  Katie made a beeline for Ben and hung on every word he said. They’d both removed their shoes and were playing footsies. Torn between my feelings for Ben and Chris, I felt jealous and alienated as I wat
ched my Bodine world collide with my family one.

  Suddenly the lights went out. Candles sizzled in the dark as Doc carried a cake from the kitchen. Denise touched my arm. “Should we sing Happy Birthday?”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s okay.”

  They sang it anyway and Chris put his arm around my shoulders. As time ticked on, a sliver of silver moon lit up the sky outside the window. Everyone was flushed with good spirits. I tried to relax and get into the spirit of the party. At one point Ben winked at me from across the room and mouthed something. My eyesight wasn’t spot on after all the weed and wine, but I thought he had said, “I love you.” Probably my imagination playing tricks on me.

  I began to feel dizzy and headed to the bathroom The door was closed so I knocked.

  Shuffling noises filtered through the door. “Just a minute,” said a male voice.

  Moments later, Ivy sauntered out of the room with a grin the size of a crescent moon.

  Chris stood in the doorway as wafts of a strange odor drifted out. “It’s not what you think,” he said. “Nothing happened. I swear on everything that’s holy to me.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “That’s just the point. Nothing’s holy to you or Ben.”

  “You’re wrong. Last night when I thought I’d lost you forever, I was freaked out.”

  “So ef-in freaked out that you’re still carrying on with Ivy?”

  “We were testing out the product you brought back from New Mexico,” he said.

  “Isn’t that what they’re doing in the living room?”

  “No, that’s some weed we’ve had for a while. The stuff you brought home is very special.”

  I inhaled. “It smells strange.”

  “It’s bitchin. Once we divvy it up, we’ll get high together.”

  “I should go back to Bodine.”

  He placed his hand on his heart. “Don’t kill me, baby. I can’t live without you.”

  I laughed. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

  “Let’s go up to the attic and make things right between us.” He took my hand and led me out of the bathroom toward the staircase.

  “What about my friends, the party?”

  I glanced around the smoke-filled living room. Katie and Ben were making out on the couch. Doc was talking to Denise in the corner and everyone else seemed engaged in conversation with glasses of wine or the bong in their hands.