by Ariella Papa
None of the four of us is talking to one another. Even though Lauryn and I are sitting beside each other, we are each involved in other people. Kathy is drunk and talking loudly to everyone and Beth is just sitting straight against her chair back taking it all in.
Not since my almost-gone party have I hung out with so many people at once and I feel like I can’t understand anyone. I feel pulled in different directions and buzzed. Now we are here and it’s okay, but I am still tense. Without having a job, how am I ever going to connect with anyone again?
When the food comes, I feel better immediately. This is what I love about food—the moment when it is about to be set down in front of you. The server smiles like a loving parent. Still his work isn’t done, you might want fresh pepper, you might want cheese. It would be the best meal or it could be the worst, you breathe in and you don’t know what to expect, but your senses are ready. I take a bite of tuna, peppered and fragrant, and close my eyes. The food is decent, certainly not the best ever, but it distracts me and comforts me and relaxes me.
When I open my eyes everyone is finally quiet and eating their appetizers. Even Beth is picking at her salad. We are brought together in this simple ritual. This is why I love this city, these restaurants, this social activity.
The silence lasts until people start offering up bites. I look across the table at Beth, who holds up her fork to me.
“Go ahead,” she says, and I hold out my bread plate for her to put a piece of beet with goat cheese. I offer her mine, but she shakes her head and smiles. The volume of the table rises again and then Jessica suggests we make a toast. She toasts Kathy for being the most stylish woman in the office and the person “who is able to deal with Stan’s shit in the most efficient way.” I have no idea who Stan is, but all the work people laugh, so I smile.
“But seriously, Kathy is a wonderful person. She makes work as fun as it can be. She is going to make Ron so happy. We are going to miss her on her honeymoon. We wish you the best. Congratulations.” We clink glasses. Brandy (not Brooke) wipes a tear. These people are her friends in the same way Janice, John and Jen were mine. And I know I’m drunk then, because I miss those guys and how much fun work could be sometimes when we were together. It’s a gift to like the people you work with. I can’t imagine that where I work next will be as good.
The waiter clears the plates and brings everyone their dinner. I know we are all getting drunk. Every few minutes someone else offers a toast—someone besides the three of us. I don’t feel stable enough to say anything.
I look at Lauryn. She is still talking to Jill. Beth hasn’t said a word, she just keeps picking up her glass robotically and drinking more wine. It’s just past twelve. I am sure we are going to get dessert and then there will be more drinking somewhere else. I can’t not go to that. If Beth showed up, I can’t just bail. That would make me the worst friend. I am not going to see Ben tonight. It’s got to be for the best. I just keep thinking about how his eyes lit up in his teasing way.
“That’s a big wedding,” Jessica says to Kathy.
“How many?” Hope asks.
“Two hundred and fifty-seven invited,” Kathy says, slurring. Her veil is starting to come off. I never knew how many people were going to her wedding.
“That’s so many,” Jill says. I have a feeling they have sat around their office ironing out all the details of Kathy’s nuptials. All of us complained about dresses and happily let any talk of wedding favors drop whenever we could.
“My sister has to invite everyone,” Dina says. The copious amounts of liquor haven’t driven the bug from out of her ass.
“Who are you having?” Lauryn asks.
“I don’t know, lots of people,” Kathy says, her eyes almost rolling around her head. Then they settle on me. “Tommy.”
“You’re inviting Tommy to your wedding?” I ask, confused. “Or you’re inviting me with guest?”
“Ron and Tommy are friends,” Beth says, finally deciding to contribute to the conversation. I don’t think it’s the right place to bring up all the times I pleaded with Tommy to do stuff with Kathy and Ron when they first started dating. I don’t see how he can be invited.
“Ron really likes Tommy,” Kathy says. She is having trouble forming all her words. “You know how they like to talk about, I don’t know, all that stuff.”
“Who is Tommy?” Jill asks me.
“He is Beth’s brother,” Kathy says, drunkenly pointing to me and then to Beth. “And Rebecca’s ex.”
She lets the ex ring out for a while, playing with the sound in her mouth, and then she rests her head in her hands, almost slumping over her seared scallops.
“That’s got to be a strain on a friendship,” Brandy says jokingly. Brandy is a nice person and I’m sure she doesn’t mean to start anything. But Beth gets up to go to the bathroom, placing her napkin in the plate she barely touched.
“It is,” I say.
“There are worse things,” Lauryn says loudly to Brandy, but really for Beth to hear. Beth ignores her and heads toward the bathroom.
“You’re not mad, are you, Rebecca?” Kathy asks. Her mouth is almost a squiggle. She is too drunk to get a handle on her emotions.
“Of course not,” I say. “It’s your wedding.”
Considering I just stood up the closest thing I’ve had to a wedding date prospect, I order another bottle of wine. I am going to drink until all of this is easier to deal with.
Lauryn sleeps through the first bus she planned on taking. We passed out together in my bed. When I wake up she is throwing her stuff in a bag, cursing under her breath.
“Hey,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “What’s up?”
“Sorry,” she says. Her mascara is caked on her eyelashes and her teeth are gray from wine. “I think I’m going to miss this one, too.”
“Are you feeling okay?” It’s only a few blocks to the Port Authority. She could probably get there if she hustled.
“No, I feel hungover.” She looks at the clock and shakes her head. She crawls back into bed. “Fuck it! I’m going to miss it.”
It’s close to two when finally we wake up. Lauryn checks the schedule and finds she has three more hours to the next possible bus. She flops back in the bed and rubs her head.
“Is there a hot guy to bring me water and coffee?” I get up and give her a big glass of water and the bottle of Aleve. We each take two.
I never met Ben, of course. We stayed out until 5:00 a.m. After dessert two of the work friends and one of the cousins went home. We moved to the bar atop the Marriott where all the tourists oohed and aahed at the view of the city and Dina gloated as if the whole night had been her idea. I foolishly drank a warm liquored cocoa with whipped cream that bloated me. Beth took off after the first round, leaving Lauryn and I to count our exchanges with her on one hand. Kathy practically clung to Beth on the way out. She drunkenly told Beth how pretty she was and how much she loved her. Beth nodded and for a moment I thought she was going to cry.
“You’re soooo special to me,” Kathy whined. “I just miss my girlfriends.”
It was a really weird scene. I had another round of something stronger that Brandy ordered for me. I think it was a mojito. All of the various liquors began to mix in my stomach. That didn’t stop me from going to O’Flaherty’s with Lauryn, Brandy, Jessica and one of Kathy’s cousins after Dina threw up in the bathroom and Kathy passed out into her cosmopolitan.
We had a great time with the three women we didn’t really know. I wished that Kathy could have seen us all hanging out and I wished that Beth hadn’t acted so weird or that Brandy hadn’t asked “what was up with that girl?” And I wished that Lauryn and I could have done something more than shrug.
When we got home, there was a message on my cell from Tommy saying that he and the nanny had taken a late-night jitney to the Hamptons on Friday and he would be staying until Sunday night.
“I can’t wait to see them at the wedding,” I said to Lauryn as my room spun
behind her. I felt too drunk to be alone. I was lonely in spite of Lauryn, who passed out immediately. Then I called information to try to get the number to Ben’s pub, but remembered it didn’t have a name yet.
I calculated that I started the night with $260, but ended it with six. I think at some point I used my credit card to buy a round of drinks at O’Flaherty’s. That’s about twenty-nine plates of tempura. Sweet, sweet, severance, why are you forsaking me?
When I lay in bed, I imagined the room would stop spinning if I could just close my eyes.
Eventually, it did, but now the Aleves are doing little to help my hangover as I sit here with Lauryn and her luggage at the Edison Café. We called Dina’s hotel room to try and see if Kathy was still around to join us, but they had checked out.
“Breakfast or lunch?” Lauryn asks. I was thinking eggs, but it is close to three.
“That’s the question.” When the waiter comes I order a BLT. Lauryn gets a bagel with cream cheese, fries and pancakes. I can tell the older Russian waiter is impressed that someone her size would eat this much.
“Wow!” I say when he leaves.
“Yes, did somebody say carbo load?”
“It’s the perfect hangover treat.” She sips more coffee and we quickly get refilled. “So, nice job planning last night.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I hope Dina was happy.”
“Well,” Lauryn says, laughing. “If it matters, I think Kathy was.”
“Did you have a good time?”
“It was okay. I think I’m going to turn into a big reclusive bird woman. I feel very out of touch with people these days.”
“We didn’t really get to talk to anyone.”
“Not anyone we considered a friend beforehand, no.”
“What’s happening?” Lauryn shrugs. I wasn’t expecting her to have the answers, but there is relief in knowing I’m not the only one to feel this way. Maybe if I had the courage to bring it up to Beth and Kathy, I’d find that they felt the same way, too. “Is it a phase?”
“I don’t know,” Lauryn says. Then our food comes and we don’t talk about it anymore.
Later that night, I fall asleep on the couch early and move into my bed by ten. I am sleeping when I hear Tommy come in. I can tell that he is alone, but once again he is whistling.
I jog over to the Union Square Market early Monday. I want to get to the fresh fish before it’s all gone. I buy a two-pound whole trout from a bearded man who convinces me I’m getting the freshest fish in the city.
“I was cleaning it at eight o’clock last night.”
“Sold,” I say, and hand over my money. I head over to the tomato guy I like. Maybe I’ll make some gazpacho.
“How you doing today?”
“I’m wonderful.”
“Not too hot,” he says. “How did that salad come?”
“It was terrific. Really fresh. Thanks for the recipe.” He doesn’t need to know that I passed it along to Tommy to wow his new girlfriend. I’m getting to know the vendors. I never want to have a job.
I buy a pound of potatoes. I go over to the herb people for some cilantro. Someone touches my shoulder as I’m smelling the purple basil. I turn around. It’s Ben.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi.” He smiles, and his eyes are smiling, too. I feel like a dick. “How’s it going?”
“Good. I’m sorry I didn’t come by.”
“Yeah, I missed you,” he says. “I missed you all day and then I missed you not coming by.”
How can he be saying this? I don’t even know him. I look down at the dirt on my hands from the basil.
“Are you getting stuff at the market?” I ask.
“No, I was just looking for you. I remember you said you came here and I wanted to find you.”
“Oh.” Are those a bunch of lines? Is he stalking me?
“Do you wish I hadn’t? I just thought—”
“We don’t even know each other,” I say.
“I just thought that the other night was really fun.”
“It was, but I mean, it seems unreal.”
“But it wasn’t.” Even though I am wearing sunglasses, I look away. I must look like shit, still sweaty from the run. I probably smell.
“I don’t even know your last name.”
“It’s Rosette, but what difference does it make?” Ben Rosette is a beautiful name.
“We don’t know each other.”
“You said that. You also said I felt familiar to you, but that was the other night after many beers. Maybe you didn’t mean it.”
“No, I did.”
“But, now…”
“I just…” I don’t know what to say. “I don’t know. I mean, how do I even know who you are? I read Kitchen Confidential—I know that chefs have the life. Maybe the other night was just a fluke.”
“A fluke? This doesn’t seem like you at all.” He feels confident about who I am, even though I am doubting him. He shakes his head. “Have you been talking to someone about me?”
“No, well, yes. I don’t know that I’m in the right place,” I say.
“What do you mean?” I look around Union Square. It’s starting to get more crowded.
“I don’t know. Lately I feel like I am not sure what I’m doing. You know my whole life.” I sound like I’m pleading with him. And for what—to leave me alone? Is that what I want? I don’t know. I just don’t know if I’m ready to get close to someone, to be disappointed by them or to disappoint them, myself. It’s all happening so fast.
“I see.” He looks at me, like he can see through me.
“I know it sounds lame.”
“Yeah, it kind of does.” I wasn’t expecting that.
“What are we going to do? Start dating?”
“Why not?”
“We met at a bar. It’s weird.”
“To who?”
“Me. Everyone.”
“Not me and not you. Not the other night.”
“I know, but the other night wasn’t…” I really don’t know what to say. His expression is weakening my resolve. He wants something from me that I’m not sure how to give.
“What?”
“It was unreal.” He doesn’t say anything. “I was just getting used to being alone.”
“And that’s what you want? Why are you so scared?” Why is he so persistent? I make what I’m certain is a very exasperated face. He reaches out and touches the inside of my arm with his knuckle, like he did on the street. I was sweating—now I have chills.
“I’m not a psycho and I’m not interested in anyone else,” he says without removing his hand. “You know where I am. I won’t try to bother you again. The ball is in your court, Rebecca.”
“Okay.”
“Can I know your last name? Now that you know mine. In case I find out that you were the psycho killer.” I laugh, awkwardly.
“It’s Cole.”
“Rebecca Cole. That’s a beautiful name.”
“Thank you.” He is able to say the things I can’t. I sigh.
“Well, I hope I see you around, Rebecca Cole.” Here is my chance to say something to save this, but I don’t say anything special.
“Bye.” And he walks away. Who can blame him? Now it’s all up to me.
Great, I love it when the ball is in my court. Proactive is my middle name. Yep. Rebecca Proactive Cole. I wonder if he would think that was a beautiful name.
After meeting Ben, I no longer feel like running. I take the subway back up to Midtown. There is another ad for the Teaching Fellows. It says, “You made your dreams come true, how about someone else’s?” I think of Ben.
How about nobody’s?
There is a message from Meg, Hackett’s assistant, on my cell phone. She wants to set up a meeting with Hackett and me. I don’t get it. I’ve known Meg for a while and she had nothing to do with my layoff, so I call her.
“He didn’t say why, just wanted you to meet him at the Red Cat.” Yum. Talk about fresh fish…<
br />
“When?”
“Tomorrow at six.”
“I can’t make it until seven.” I know this is a stupid game.
“I’m sure that will be fine. Hey, did you hear what happened to Delores?”
“Yeah, from several people.”
“These things happen to people who don’t know how to order their own office supplies.” Ah-ha, assistant revenge. What a breath of fresh air.
Tommy calls me as I am rubbing the freshest fish in the city with salt and pepper.
“What’s up?” he asks. I can tell right away that he is going to tell me something I don’t want to hear or disappoint me somehow.
“I wasn’t sure if you were making dinner tonight. I wasn’t expecting you to, but if you were I wanted you to know that I wasn’t going to be home. I’m, um—not going to be around.” I appreciate the notification. It is unlike the Tommy I know. I failed to train him properly and now someone else is doing a better job. Perhaps Failure is a better middle name. Rebecca Failure Cole.
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” Cordial, now that might be a good one.
“You weren’t making dinner tonight, were you?”
“Of course not, don’t worry about it.”
“All right, see you tom—whenever.”
“Okay, bye.” I think about telling him to use a condom, but Martyr doesn’t appeal to me.
The freshest fish in New York gets wrapped in foil and saved for another day when it won’t taste as good. But then again, it might not taste very good tonight, alone.
I eat my usual summer meal of tomato, basil and fresh mozzarella. I take a few extra pieces of the fresh mozzarella. I jogged today and disappointed a boy. I could use a little cheese to cheer me up.
22
Snakes/Mna na hEireann
Hackett is already at the bar when I get there. He gives me a big smile and a kiss on the cheek. I am not sure how I want to be with him, but I let him get me a drink.
“I put our name down for a table.”
“Oh, was this a dinner date?”
“Yes, I have a proposition for you.”