A State of Jane

by Schorr, Meredith

  “No! But over exposure could burn my face, right? Or over dry it,” she said, patting her face with a towel.

  “I wouldn't know. Never used a facial mask.”

  “You should. We're never too young to start caring for our skin. Down south, girls start getting facials in their teens.” Patting the top of my head, she said in her Southern accent, “You might be a few years younger than me, but you're no spring chicken, Cher.”

  “Hmm, don't they say ‘Cher’ in New Orleans? And isn't your family from Atlanta?”

  Lainie threw the towel on the floor and started walking out of the bathroom. “Once again, I try to help you and you miss the point!” Smiling, she said. “Want to use some of the mask?”

  I picked the towel back up, placed it on the towel rack, where it belonged and followed her into the hallway. Glancing back at my room, I said, “I appreciate the offer but I really should take a practice exam. I signed up for the regular LSAT course, but think I should take the advanced course instead. It's focused on students who want to get into a top-tier school. I need to get at least a 158 on a practice exam to enroll and, as you might have noticed, I haven't really been studying much.”

  “I hadn't noticed. Been too busy avoiding you.”

  Chuckling, I said, “But we're good now, right?”

  Lainie nodded. “We're good.”

  “Cool. OK, I'm going to make some coffee and try to get in a few hours of prep.” I started walking to the kitchen.

  “Jane?”

  I turned around. “Yeah?”

  “If you meet a cute guy in your class, please don't think it's fate that you signed up for the same course and imagine a life in the law firm of Jane and Husband LLP, OK?”

  “Girl Scout's honor!” With my palm facing out and my thumb holding my little finger, I gave her the Scout Sign.

  Shaking her head at me, Lainie said, “I should have known you were a Girl Scout.”

  I shrugged. “I am who I am.”

  Lainie smiled sheepishly. “I was one too. Troop 442.”

  At the same time, we sang, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other's gold.”

  CHAPTER 44

  I should have realized it wouldn't take forty-five minutes to get across town to West 56th Street and, because I gave myself an extra ten minutes to get a good seat and settle in, I arrived at the class almost thirty minutes early. There was only one other student in the room. He was reading so all I could see was the dark brown hair that covered the top of his head. He was sitting in the center of the second row, exactly where I wanted to sit so I sat down in the desk next to his and shyly said, “Hi.”

  He looked up, smiled lazily and said, “Hey there. Another early bird,” before taking a sip of his Venti Starbucks.

  His eyes were turquoise, like the water in Cozumel, Mexico where I had gone with Marissa right after I broke up with Bob. They were beautiful and I was momentarily rendered speechless. Feeling myself blush, I said, “Yeah, I didn't think the cross-town bus ran so often on Saturday mornings!”

  Blue Eyes stretched his lean but muscular arms over his head and grinned. “I live in Park Slope. Not used to taking the subway into the city this early either.” Shrugging, he said, “So here I am.”

  “You want to be a lawyer?” Duh, Jane! Why else would he be taking the LSAT?

  “Well, I want to go to law school. Not sure I'll actually practice law.”

  “Really? Why not? I mean, why bother with the law degree if you might not even want to be a lawyer? Lots of time and expense involved, no?”

  Maintaining a relaxed position with his head resting against the palm of his hand and his elbow on the desk, Blue Eyes faced me. “I already have an MBA. Having a legal degree too will definitely give me an edge in the biz.”

  I had no idea to what “biz” he was referring, but he was so cute, it didn't matter and if he already had his MBA, he had to be at least my age, if not older.

  “Cool,” I said, wondering what else I could do with a law degree besides practice law.

  “You like U2?”

  “The band?”

  Blue Eyes nodded.

  “Love them. My best friend's family is practically off-the-boat Irish and loves all things Ireland, including Bono, The Edge, and especially Larry Mullen Jr. I've seen them three times with her and her sister. Why?” Dare I hope he's going to ask if I want to go with him to a concert? Or see a cover band?

  “I love them too. Was just listening to ‘Rattle and Hum’ on my iPod. They just don't make music like that anymore.”

  I said, “Agree completely!” before turning around to check out the group of people who had joined us in the classroom. We all acknowledged each other's presence with a nod, a smile and a soft “Hi,” but then I turned back to Blue Eyes, hoping to resume our conversation and see what else we had in common. He was on the phone but smiled at me. I smiled back and fidgeted with my notebook while struggling to hear his end of the conversation.

  “Me too. OK, bye,” he said. He placed his phone in his messenger bag and said, “My wife — calling to wish me good luck on my first day of school. She was still sleeping when I left this morning.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Your wife?”

  “Yeah, she's a teacher. Kindergarten.”

  “Your wife?”

  Furrowing his brow, Blue Eyes said, “Yeah, why?”

  Why? Hello? You aren't wearing a ring! And gorgeous men should always wear a ring when chatting up hopeful, single women!

  That is what I wanted to say. But I didn't dare. Embarrassed, I said nonchalantly, “I wasn't sure if I heard you the first time.” Boldness and a bit of anger quickly replacing my shame, I gestured towards his left hand and added, “And married men usually wear rings. You know, wedding rings?”

  Blue Eyes chuckled. “Yeah, my wife took it to be polished. She suggested that I wear a cigar ring in the meantime so I wouldn't mislead all of the single ladies.” He adopted a girl's voice for the last part that I assumed was supposed to sound like his wife. In his normal voice, he said, “But I figured I could manage to stay out of trouble for a few days. Everyone at work knows I'm married and I doubt anyone in this class would be concerned about my marital status.” He laughed again. “There are much cheaper ways to get a date than this!”

  Feeling my face burn, I said, “Totally.” Then I opened my notebook to the first page and wrote my name in script in small letters on the upper left corner. I looked up at the ceiling. I know, Lainie. I know. Then I wrote “Focus” in big letters underneath my name.

  Drawing to mind the drinking game we sometimes played in college, I silently chanted to myself, “What's the name of the game?” Drum roll. “The LSAT course!” “Why do we play?” Drum roll. “To get into a good law school!”

  CHAPTER 45

  “See you next week,” I said to Roberto (formerly known as Blue Eyes) before walking out of the classroom and onto 56th Street a few weeks later. I had the entire day ahead of me and had no desire to spend the afternoon studying. I had gotten a score of over 160 on my last two practice exams and still had seven weeks to further improve my testing skills. I needed a break and decided to walk home. It was a warm, sunny day and I unbuttoned my trench coat, put on my sunglasses, and began walking north, figuring I'd cross town through the park. I heard my phone ring and stepped aside to answer it. “Hey, what's up?”

  “Please come over tonight,” Claire said, a hint of desperation in her voice. “I just can't bear to spend another night harvesting virtual crops on Farmville!”

  And if you update your status one more time about what Kevin is making for dinner, I might have to de-friend you. “OK, I'll pick up a movie.”

  “Something funny. And no child-birth scenes.”

  “No worries. I rented The Backup Plan with Marissa last weekend. It was so dumb. Can I get a romantic comedy, or will Kevin throw me out?”

  “I'm letting Kevin go out with the guys.”

  “Cool. L
adies' night!”

  “Pick up Mallomars. Or Chips Ahoy! Or Double Stuff.”

  Laughing, I said, “No worries. I'll bring goodies. Seven?”

  “Can you make it six-thirty? Not sure I can stay up much past nine.”

  Realizing the closest Blockbuster to my apartment was all the way on First Avenue, I resumed walking at a brisk pace so I'd get there before sundown. “OK. I want to get up early for the ten-fifteen spin class anyway.”

  “Ten-fifteen is early?”

  “For those of us who don't have the luxury of staying in bed all day, yes.”

  “Luxury? Just wait till you're preggers, little sister!”

  “Whatev! Bye Claire.” After hanging up, I threw the phone in my pocketbook and hailed a cab.

  * * *

  I removed Leap Year from the shelf even though I wasn't sure I wanted to see it. But when I had asked Claire to decide between Bride Wars and The Ugly Truth, she said she'd already seen both of them. I continued roaming the aisles when I saw the back of a familiar head and immediately stopped in my tracks.

  That Vidal Sassoon haircut was unmistakable. It had to be her, especially since her head was attached to such a freakishly short body. OK, not freakishly short, but short enough! What was she doing on the Upper East Side? This was my Blockbuster. I knew I should've subscribed to Netflix. She probably thought I was a total freak after my behavior at her party. I'm just using them for sex. My body recoiled at the memory.

  I had to get out of there before she saw me, but the exit was right by the foreign language section where Trish had been standing since I got there. It figured she'd like subtitles. To buy time while I figured out my escape, I hid behind a life-size poster of the Sex and The City girls advertising a sale of the entire six-season box set on DVD. I slowly inhaled and exhaled, willing my breathing to go back to normal. Then I counted to ten in my head and peeked my head around the poster. I jumped back to my original position when I saw she was now facing my direction but in doing so, knocked my bag against the side of the poster and the bag fell upside down on the ground, emptying the contents in the process. I muttered “Crap,” got on my hands and knees and began returning my personal items into the bag.

  “Jane?”

  Please don't be Trish. Please don't be Trish. I slowly looked up. “Oh, hi Trish! How are you?”

  Bending down to help me, probably because she was already so close to the ground, she said, “Are you OK? We heard the crash from over there.”

  “Big bag, I guess. Makes a lot of noise when it bangs into things!” Tucking my hair behind my ears, I got up and flung the bag over my shoulder. Straightening out my coat, I said, “So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

  “Girls’ night. We're thinking of seeing Chocolat.”

  Johnny Depp. Talk about eye candy. Wish I'd thought of that first. “I had the same idea. Seeing a movie with my sister. She's pregnant and on bed rest. Basically going out of her mind.”

  Trish flipped her coiffed ‘do, raised her eyebrow coquettishly and said, “No date?”

  “No date,” I confirmed, planting on a fake smile. “What about you? Bob is letting you out of his sight?”

  “We don't need to spend every night together,” Trish said smugly.

  Of course not. Because your relationship is puuurrfect. “Of course not.” Anyway, I wanted to tell you congratulations again. Bob was an amazing boyfriend. I have no doubt he'll make a terrific husband.”

  Trish eyed me suspiciously. “Thanks.”

  “It will probably take me a long time to find someone as good as him, and I refuse to settle.”

  Looking me directly in the eyes, Trish said, “Yes, well, there is only one Bob.”

  I nodded. “Yup!”

  “And he's taken,” Trish continued.

  As if I didn't know that. Trying to lighten the conversation, I said, “You should probably thank me for putting him back on the market!”

  Trish widened her eyes. “I believe in fate actually.”

  “I do too,” I said.

  “I'm sure if it's in the cards, you'll find someone perfect for you too.”

  If it's in the cards? As if there was a possibility it wasn't? I decided to cut to the chase and get my apology over with. “Anyway, sorry if I acted strange when we met.”

  A little too quickly, Trish said, “You didn't act strange.”

  “Oh, I was totally weird! I was in an odd place.”

  A blank expression on her face, Trish said, “I didn't notice.”

  “Really? Wow. The girl at your party was so not me. She was pathetic! She pretended to like a guy just to have a date! She talked about sowing her oats. Ha! So not me. Bob knows that. I was embarrassed.” I giggled nervously.

  Trish shrugged. “I didn't notice,” she said again.

  “Well, just so you know, I'm over it. I'm studying for the LSAT and totally not interested in dating at the moment. The real Jane is ever focused.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Trish took a quick look around the store. “My friend is ready to get out of here so…”

  “Oh! Don't let me keep you. Best of luck to you.” As she walked away, I added, “Tell Bob I said ‘hi.’” Bitch.

  CHAPTER 46

  “She wouldn't even let me apologize. Acted like it wasn't a big deal.”

  “Maybe it wasn't a big deal,” Lainie said. She was standing on a footstool and handed me the baking sheet we kept in one of the higher cabinets. We were both PMSing and craving chocolate chip cookies. Lainie suggested we run out to buy them but it was pouring out and so I offered to make a fresh batch. The Chips Ahoy! that Claire and I had eaten the night before were not nearly as chewy and moist as mine.

  I waited for her to safely step off the stool before saying, “No. She wouldn't acknowledge that I was just having a bad day because that would mean she was also acknowledging that I'm usually completely normal.”

  “I wouldn't go so far as to say you're completely ….”

  “Seriously, Lainie,” I interrupted. “She was such a biatch! It's like my class picture from senior year of high school. I didn't come out good and knew I was prettier in person but this bitch Debbie purposely went on and on about what a great picture it was as if to say I was uglier in person.”

  “Maybe she was just being nice,” Lainie suggested.

  “No! She was a total bitch and wanted to make me feel bad by telling me it was a good picture when it was horrid!” I felt my face burn. “She didn't even use the word ‘pretty.’ She just said, ‘that's such a great picture of you’ and I could see the evil behind her blue eyes.”

  “You still remember what she said verbatim? And how she looked when she said it?” Laughing, Lainie said, “She must have really scarred you.”

  Furiously stirring the chocolate chips into a mixing bowl with the rest of the ingredients, I blew my hair out of my eyes. “She did. Bitch.”

  I handed Lainie a spoonful of cookie dough and took a spoonful for myself. “OK, time to shape the cookies and put them in the oven!”

  Later, we sat at our kitchen table: me with a tall glass of cold milk and Lainie with a tall glass of Baileys Irish Creme.

  Lainie took a bite from a freshly baked cookie, closed her eyes, slowly chewed and swallowed. When she opened her eyes to find me staring at her, she said, “OMG. These are so good, Jane. Like orgasmic.”

  I took a bite and agreed completely. Smiling, I said, “Yeah, I'm good, aren't I?”

  “Seriously. Why are you going to law school when you could open up a cookie store? I'd totally buy these.”

  Laughing, I said, “I can't take the credit. It's Tollhouse's recipe.”

  “Maybe. But you added some personal Jane touches that didn't come from the back of the bag of chocolate chips. And everything you make, from breakfast to dinner to dessert rocks.” Lainie took another bite of a cookie, shook her head and said, “Fan-fucking-tabulous!”

  I stood up, flipped my hair, and looked over my shoulder at Lainie re
d carpet style. “When you've got it, you've got it.” Then I walked over to the sink.

  “Well, you've got it. And I'm so gonna miss it.”

  With the water running while I rinsed my plate, I said, “I'll make them again. No worries.”

  A moment later, Lainie was standing at my side. “Actually, I need to talk to you,” she said.

  I wiped my hands on the dish towel and sat back down at the table. Gesturing towards the bottle of Baileys, I said, “Uh oh. Will I be needing this?”

  Lainie sat down and shrugged.

  “What is it?”

  “Well. Antoine asked me to move in with him and I said yes.” Raising her hand as if to stop me from saying anything, she said, “But don't worry. I'm not moving out until our lease expires in August. So you have plenty of time to find a new roommate. Assuming you want to stay here.”

  I ran to Lainie's side of the table. “Oh my God! You guys are moving in together!”

  Still sitting down with a stoic expression on her face, Lainie nodded.

  “That's awesome! Stand up so I can give you a congratulatory hug!”

  Lainie stood up and I embraced her fiercely. When we separated, she looked at me with her brow furrowed and said, “You're really OK with this?”

  “Why wouldn't I be?”

  Lainie raised an eyebrow and sat back down. “I dunno. Something about the cheerleader for the terminally single chick finding cohabitational bliss while the cheerleader for the hopelessly romantic sleeps alone night after night after….”

  “I catch your drift. But no, I'm sincerely happy for you! You're my friend and if your time to settle down is before mine, however nonsensical that is, I'm fine with it. My time will come. My finding love is not mutually exclusive with you finding love. I have to focus on law school now anyway.”

  Wide eyed, Lainie said, “Wow. I'm so impressed with your maturity, Jane!”

  “See? I'm not always immature, selfish, and controlling. Was just going through a bad phase.”