by Fishman, Zoe
“Retarded! Sarah! I think you’re a wee bit sensitive about this. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“Actually, you didn’t bring it up, Monie, I did,” interjected Nate. “It’s my bad. Forgive me.”
Monie?
“If it makes you feel any better, Sarah, I can’t swim. Never learned how.” He took a sip of his beer. “The ocean terrifies me.”
“Eh, that doesn’t really make me feel better, but thanks for trying.”
“I’m gonna use the restroom,” he announced. “BRB.” I gave Mona the evil eye as he walked away.
“What?” she asked.
“Why did you lie to me?”
“About what? Him coming tonight? I swear it wasn’t planned! I just felt bad for him. He loves this place.”
“It’s not about tonight at all! I don’t care about that. Okay, maybe a little, but honestly, that’s not what I’m pissed about. I’m pissed because you told me it was just a sex thing with him, when it’s clearly much more.”
“It’s not that much more. But okay, mea culpa.”
“Why make it less than it is?”
“You know me, it’s my thing. I just, well, maybe I didn’t want to jinx it.”
“Do you even need me up here? Doesn’t Nate want to help out?”
“Of course I need you here, Sarah! You’re the one person that I want here for what’s about to happen.” Something clicked in my brain, like a gumball dropping into its chamber after the quarter was deposited.
“Oh no, Mona.” She fiddled with her napkin guiltily. “Mona, look at me.” She looked up hesitantly. “Holy shit, he doesn’t know.” She shook her head. “But why? And why lie to me about that too?”
“Sarah, come on. Cancer is not exactly an aphrodisiac. And as far as telling you that he doesn’t know, what was the point?”
“Didn’t you worry that I would bring it up and call your bluff unintentionally?”
“I guess I just assumed that you wouldn’t. Who wants to talk about cancer?”
“And what about during your recovery? Didn’t you think that I would find it strange that he wasn’t around?”
“I didn’t think it through that well. I happen to have a few other things on my mind besides whether or not you would ask me where Nate was.”
“Well of course, but still. The fact that you feel that you have to lie to me at all is disconcerting. You’re my best friend, for chrissake. Mona, I have to ask you something, and if you don’t tell me the absolute truth I will never forgive you.”
“Okay.”
“Is your cancer really stage two-A and will this hysterectomy wipe it out, or is there something much worse going on?”
She looked me in the eye. “What I’ve told you about that is the absolute truth. One hundred percent.”
“You swear?”
“I swear on my father’s grave.”
“Okay. Good.” I reached over to grab her hand just as Nate approached.
“Hey, ladies, where’s the funeral?” he asked, collapsing into his chair as though his urination had depleted him of all energy.
How could she not tell him? Every doctor appointment, every heartbreak, every woken-up-from-anxiousness moment in the middle of the night—she just swallowed them when he was around? To me, repression seemed like the very definition of cancer, something eating away at you on the inside despite your best efforts to ignore it.
“You guys are making me miss Josh. I’m going to step outside for a sec to call him.”
“Go ahead,” said Mona. “We won’t eat your sashimi, I promise.”
Outside, I pulled my sleeve over my free hand and shivered. The first nip of fall was in the air, and it felt amazing. There was only so much of summer someone could take before yearning for sleeves again. What would fall be like in Farmwood? I wondered.
“Hello, wifey,” Josh answered.
“Hello, husband.” Hearing his voice made me smile.
“I miss you. Can you come back already?”
“I’m starting to second-guess my decision to come here,” I told him. A fortysomething woman in pigtails stomped past me. What was the deal with women over a certain age and pigtails? Why?
“Really? How come?”
“Well, that’s not true. I think that Mona does really need me, maybe more than I even thought initially. She’s got some serious head stuff going on.”
“Like what?”
“Like she’s pretty seriously dating this guy, but she has not told and has no plans to tell him about the cancer.”
He whistled. “That’s a doozy. Why? She doesn’t want to scare him off?”
“I guess. Although, if I was him, finding out that my girlfriend had cancer and didn’t mention it to me would scare me off way faster.”
“But, Sarah, you’re talking a lot for someone who thankfully has never had to have that conversation with anybody. How do you know what this feels like for Mona?”
“I know. I just, I want her to own herself with these guys she dates. What is she afraid of?”
“I guess you need to ask her that.” In the background, I could hear the doorbell ring.
“Who’s that?”
“I invited some people from school over for taco night,” he answered.
“Taco night?”
“Sure. I make a pretty mean taco, you know that.”
“When was the last time you made tacos?”
“Sarah, I’m bored here without you, okay? Don’t be bitchy.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right. Good for you for reaching out. I would just stew around in my misery if I was there.”
“I know. That’s why we work together.”
“Are Iris and Mac coming?”
“Yeah—them, Bob, this guy Raj, and one of my teaching assistants, Curtis.”
“Cool. Well, go ahead, have fun. I can see that my sushi is ready anyhow.” Through the window, a waitress descended upon the table with three boats of rainbow-hued fish.
“You too. And talk to Mona. Don’t yell at her. She’s in a really scary place, you know? I’d be shocked if any of her behavior made sense.”
“You’re right. I love you. Say hi to everyone for me.”
“Will do.” I swung open the door and put on my best game face. Mona clearly needed me, maybe now more than ever, and if that meant hanging up my judgmental shoes about her Nate situation, that’s what I would do. For now, anyway.
13
Use your horn only when necessary to avoid collisions.
How are you feeling?” I asked. Mona and I were back in her apartment, just the two of us. I nestled a pint of ice cream between my knees.
“Fine, just super tired. I go and go and go and then when I finally sit, it’s like—ahhhhhh.”
“Is that good for you?”
“How can it be good for anybody?”
“No, I know, but you’re particularly vulnerable. Why do it to yourself?”
“Because who knows what life will be like after Wednesday?”
“After the operation?”
She nodded. “I should make the most of my mobility now.”
“Mobility as in the ability to put your legs over your head?” I asked, referring to Nate.
“Very funny. And I’m thirty-six, not seventeen. There are no legs over anybody’s head. Although I will say that Nate is very flexible.”
“Is he?”
“Yeah, he’s into yoga and all of that holistic stuff.”
“A yogi comedian paralegal?”
“Yeah, who knew that was a thing, right?”
I plunged my spoon back into the ice cream. “Are we going to talk about the fact that Nate has no idea that you have cancer?”
“If we have to, I guess.”
“I’m just curious, is all, and also, saddened by it.”
“What’s to be sad about, Sarah? Cancer is a buzzkill. I like Nate, but I’m not, like, crazy head-over-heels about him.”
“You sure? You seemed pretty into him at d
inner.”
“He’s a yogi comedian paralegal who unfortunately is not that funny, Sarah. Not exactly marriage material.”
“Well, yes, there’s that, but beyond that, he seems like a nice guy. And really into you, I might add.”
“He does?” Her eyes lit up, thereby betraying her feigned indifference.
“Yep.” I handed her the pint, but she waved it away.
“I’ve thought about telling him, but every time I come close, it just seems too absurd. Like a bad movie or something.”
“So how do you handle your doctor appointments and stuff? How have you been handling not feeling well?”
“It’s very easy. The doctor appointments are during the day, so what’s the difference, and the tiredness I can easily mask with fake plans. He thinks I’m the most popular woman in the universe, which of course makes him more into me.”
“So that rumor is true, huh? I don’t think I ever played hard to get in my entire dating career. I was more of the Plans tonight? Let me check—yep, I’m free variety.”
“Me too! Now I’m not, and let me tell you—those ridiculous dating books weren’t complete bullshit. He can’t get enough of me.” She reached for the carton, peering inside when I handed it to her. “Geez, you’ve been busy.”
“What? You refused it earlier! I’m stress eating.”
“Why are you stressed out?”
“Because I just want more for you, is all. I want you to know how incredible you are, warts and all, and make no apologies for them, not tiptoe around some guy and lie to save his feelings of awkwardness. You deserve someone that you can really talk to, that you can trust will be there for you.”
“Sarah, this is a really great pep talk, but you’re speaking from the mountain of commitment and I’m living in the valley of dating death. It doesn’t work like that. You ask the guy you’re dating if he wants to go to a stupid wedding with you as your plus one two weeks in advance, and he stops returning your texts. That’s the world I’m living in.”
“Did that happen to you?”
“It did.”
“What bullshit. Listen, I know you’re right, and the last thing I want to do is come off as self-righteous. I just needed to say that. You knew I was thinking it. And just so you know, not all is peaches and cream atop the mountain. There are issues there too.”
“What? You and Josh are in trouble?”
“No, we’re fine. I’m just saying that all relationships take work and communication. And we’re all guilty of fooling ourselves into thinking that that’s not the case because in the short term, it’s easier to avoid stuff.”
“You sure you guys are okay?” she asked again.
“Positive. Just making a point.” It seemed incredibly selfish, not to mention thoughtless, to bother Mona with my baby baggage now. “Let’s get back to you.”
“I guess I have this sort of weird, twisted belief that the more people I don’t tell about my cancer and hysterectomy, the less real either of them are,” she confessed. “Telling Nate about it would be the mother lode.”
“Are you scared, Mona?”
“It’s all so incredibly overwhelming,” she answered. I squeezed her hand. “So if I need to make some ridiculous decisions regarding what I will and won’t say to the guy I’m sleeping with, just bear with me, okay?”
“Okay. I will.” I rocked her for a moment. “So, where does Nate think you’re going for two weeks as you recover?”
“Paris for work. I told him that I have to go edit a manuscript alongside a famously difficult author.”
“Which author?”
“That’s what’s great about dating a yogi comedian paralegal. They don’t ask.”
“C’est bien.”
“Oui,” she replied, touching my cheek with a sad smile.
The next day, while Mona was taking a nap, I wandered Brooklyn aimlessly, trying to not think about my missing period but instead to relish the fact that I had nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do. In three days, I was going into full-on nurse mode, even though I had no idea what exactly that would entail. The most care I had ever bestowed upon someone was when Josh had the stomach flu. My patience had worn out around hour fourteen, which did not bode well for Mona.
“Sarah?” I turned from the overpriced clothing storefront I had been admiring.
“Emily?”
Emily was a former coworker, and although I knew that she meant well, she had a terrible habit of asking a question and then answering it herself. Plus, she was the most offensive masticator I had ever been forced to share space with. What she did to potato chips should be illegal.
“I thought you moved!” She extended her arms for a hug and I reciprocated.
“I did, I’m ju—”
“Back here visiting? I bet visiting New York is a helluva lot better than actually enduring the daily grind, huh?”
“I guess.”
“What, you’re unhappy?” Her navy eyes bored holes into my skull.
“No, no.” I waved her off. “Just, I don’t know.” She continued to observe me keenly. “I’m sort of out of it this afternoon, you know?”
“Hungover?”
“Not real—”
“I’m hungover today too. You know what the best cure is? Spinning.”
“Spinning records?”
“Ha, you are so funny, Sarah. No, silly, spinning as in cycling. I sweated out about six liters of vodka this morning.” Athletic bragging, another one of Emily’s downfalls. She and Iris would have gotten along swimmingly.
“Good for you.”
“Have you ever spun?”
“Once, I—”
“I just picked it up over the summer, and oh my God, what a game changer. I’ve lost, like, four and a half pounds.”
“I can totally tell.” That was a lie, but one I knew I was expected to dispense.
“You can?” She jumped up and down in delight, her brown bun bobbing on the top of her head like a wine cork in water. “Have you spoken to Meghan since you left?” she asked, composing herself. Meghan was my former boss.
“No.”
“Bad blood?”
“Maybe a little. I do think that my resignation came as a shock.”
“Yeah, we were all shocked, actually. You were just so good at what you did. Everyone assumed you were leaving to go somewhere else, but the move out of the business was surprising, not to mention the fact that you were leaving New York!”
“Yeah.” I shrugged my shoulders, feeling uncomfortable. New Yorkers. They couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that people actually resided in the forty-nine other states.
“Although, good for you. I fantasize about getting out all of the time.”
“You do?”
She nodded as she reached into her bag and brought out a pack of gum. “Sure, I just have no idea what the hell I would do. Want a piece?”
“No thanks.”
She shrugged and unwrapped a piece before popping it into her mouth. I visibly winced, but it was to no avail. She was clueless about the offense she committed every time she inserted something into her mouth. “They still haven’t filled your position, you know.”
“They haven’t?” My heartbeat unexpectedly quickened a little.
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“I guess you’re irreplaceable. You should call Meghan. Not that you want to, because you’re happy with your move and all, but if you weren’t, you know, I would call her.” What was Emily insinuating?
“Thanks, Emily.”
“Hey, you need a ride? I’m headed into the city.” She pointed to her Zipcar. “I love these things. You ever rent one?” Emily the overtalker and overmasticator could drive, but I could not? That was unacceptable. It seemed like everyone on the road was dumber than me. And yet . . .
“No thanks, I’m just—”
“Oh, you’re staying in the neighborhood? Okay, well, awesome to see you like this. Random, but awesome.”
> “You too.”
“Stay in touch!” She bounded off, her shiny black leather boots practically crackling with each step. Meghan hasn’t hired anyone, huh? That wasn’t entirely surprising, considering how picky she was. She wasn’t the easiest person to get along with either, which could explain the lack of in-house interest. A man walking an iguana on a leash passed by me. My phone rang. Josh.
“Hey!” I answered.
“Hey. How goes it?” he asked through a yawn.
“Did taco night go until the wee hours?” I teased.
“You know what? It actually did run pretty late.”
“Was it fun?”
“It was. What can I say, I throw a nice party. And the tacos were delicious.”
“Nice.”
“I pulled our old Trivial Pursuit off the shelf and we played for hours. Curtis and I schooled everybody.”
“Mazel tov.”
“Iris was asking about you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“She really wants to see you again.”
“I bet.”
“Sarah, don’t be a jerk. She’s cool, really. Not Mona cool by any means, but cool enough.”
“Yeah, I guess so. There’s still something about her that rubs me the wrong way. I can’t put my finger on it. Actually, I can put my finger on it.”
“What, she has the audacity to talk about her fondness for exercise and travel?”
“Talking is one thing. Bragging is quite another. Anyway, I’ll give her another shot, just let me get around to it, okay? Don’t force the idea down my throat.” Josh’s behaving as my Farmwood social chair really annoyed me.
“Sheesh, you are a crank today. Forget I said anything. Where are you, by the way?” Josh asked.
“Just taking a little walk.”
“I wish I was walking with you.”
“Even though I’m a crank?”
“Even though.”
“Me too.”
“How’s Mona? Did you get to the bottom of her decision to keep this guy in the dark?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty much everything you suspected. I’m hoping she’ll change her mind and clue him in.”
“The operation is Wednesday? And what’s today?”
“Sunday.”