by Ariella Papa
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“Come on, Eve.” I guess she’s right. She does seem super (almost sickeningly) happy. I should support her, regardless of what’s going on in my love life. I am too confused by it to even go there with her or Roseanne. When Roseanne asked me Sunday how the rest of my time with Todd was I just left it at fine. Here Tabitha is, excited about a guy and not being a snob about it and not only into the booty—maybe she is the one who is really serious about maturing.
I decide to abandon her happiness for a moment and tell her my big news. “You’ll never believe what happened this morning when I got to work.”
“The writer Gary was arrested.”
“How did you know?”
“It’s common knowledge.”
“That’s what Lacey said. She said it was drug related.”
“It was. He was not only selling drugs but using the Prescott Nelson courier, Eagle Express, to messenger them all over the city.”
“I can’t believe it. Now it looks like Prescott was responsible somehow.”
“That’s right, that’s why they had to arrest him at work. They didn’t want any ties to it.”
“I can’t believe you know so much about this.”
“I’ve got my ear to the ground, Eve, and I’ve got the right connections.” She is super proud of herself now. “Tonight there is a gala event at a Soho loft for some celebrity-endorsed charity. Our names are on the guest list.”
“Is it going to be fun?”
“It’s going to be fabulous! It’s Monday night, we’re going to get drunk and smoke lots of cigarettes. We’re going to kick off the summer.” And we do.
“Eve, you look great, I’m glad you wore that lipstick.” Roseanne was going on a date with Pete, so she didn’t come. I think I’m going to have a hard time dealing with the both of them, if they are going to be locked in their lovers’ embrace all summer.
We give our name to the people at the front, just as a famous actress is whisked in. There is a paparazzi line again, which gives the party a whole new dimension. Tabitha doesn’t look at them, so I know they must think that with her sunglasses she might be someone. We rush in, laughing as soon as we get inside.
It’s quite the setup. Our job now is to get as drunk as possible. We grab drinks. Tabitha sees the NY By Night press photographer and asks her to get a photo of us. I set my glass down and suck my stomach in.
“I love my new job,” says Tabitha when we’re getting some food. “I’ll make sure to put one of the pictures of us in. I know I can slip it in under the wire, just as the Big C is about to leave. We’ll get a little buzz going about us. We don’t even need talent, just curiosity.” I love Tabitha when she talks like this, it’s easy to play along.
There are celebrities everywhere, they hang out among the public for a little while before heading off to their roped-off room. “Tabitha, can we get in there?”
“Eve, I don’t know. I don’t think this press pass covers it.”
“Well let’s grab a drink and try.” I can tell the room is tiny, but the bouncers are being pretty strict about who gets in. They are checking names. There is a balding guy in front of me with a long white ponytail. Two scantily clad girls run up and kiss him.
“John, can you get us in here?” He puts his arm around them and guides them in. I tug his ponytail and smile when he turns around. I am trying to emulate the scantily clad girls without getting scantily clad.
“John, can you let us in, too?” He shrugs, and then guides Tabitha and me inside the room.
“Let them in,” he says to the bouncers, and they do.
So we’re in. It’s a tiny smoky room, but we scam the couches. We sit, casually, like we belong, and can’t help feeling like we scored. We smile at each other. The girls on the couches next to us are around our age, only more expensively dressed. We try to figure out who they are. One of them is the ex-girlfriend of some sitcom celebrity.
“Look who just walked in.” I look up and see this totally famous actress approaching. Oh, my God! It’s big. She is actually a celebrity in her own right. She waves at the women next to us and smiles at us in case we might be with them. She brings her entourage over and stands by the couches next to us.
“There is no way we’re ever giving up these couches,” Tabitha says. She is thrilled that we have something a celebrity covets. Tabitha motions to a sexy waiter and orders us two more drinks. We hold on to our fabulous couch for another hour; Tabitha smiles wickedly as she orders drink after drink. The actress has to sit awkwardly on the coffee table as she chats with the ex-girlfriend. They both went to the same expensive Manhattan girls’ school. This justifies Tabitha’s actions. She is totally smug.
Finally, I propose something radical. “Tabitha, we’ve held out long enough, what say we relinquish and mingle? Maybe there’s someone else we might want to scope out.”
We get up. I can tell Tabitha is a little wobbly, but she has her dignity. We walk around. The place is star-studded. E! Entertainment Television has a camera set up and their obnoxious host eyes us, not sure if we should be interviewed. It’s the second time tonight someone has thought we could be worthy of being photographed.
“Oh, great, look,” says Tabitha, stopping dead in her tracks. It’s Kevin, the makeup artist she loves. “I suppose you’re going to go and buddy up with him again.”
“Tabitha, I doubt he’ll remember me.”
“Well, you might as well go see, Eve. Prove it to me one more time that I am destined to watch you woo away all my idols.” We walk over to Kevin.
“Hi,” I say, “how are you?” He smiles, but I doubt he remembers me.
“Okay, you?” He smiles at Tabitha, too.
“Good. Drinking.”
“That’s always fun.” I can’t believe we are actually having a conversation with him. Then his cell phone rings. He checks the number. He looks at us almost (dare I say) apologetically. “I’m having a little drama tonight. I’ve got to take this.”
“Sure,” I say. “Good luck.” Tabitha and I walk around some more. By one o’clock the party is dying out. We don’t want to be the last ones to leave, so we decide to head out, too. In the cab we are drunk and victorious. Tabitha’s only problem is that Krispy Kreme is closed.
“You know,” I say to Tabitha, “those people all just have luck and a good publicist.”
“But, Eve, we’ve got talent and determination.”
“Do we?”
“I sure hope so.” I roll down the window in the cab and let the wind blow my hair as we head up 8th Avenue. I turn to tell Tabitha that I’ve made my decision, that I’m going to quit and as they say, give it a go, but she is sleeping and smiling in her sleep, which is sort of sweet. So, instead I chat with Amhal, my driver, for a while and then help Tabitha up the stairs when we get to my apartment.
The next day, I head into Herb’s office at ten o’clock. There is no sense putting it off. Of course, I should have known he was in a meeting (I planned it), so I have to wait until 11:00. He’s listening to monks chant when I go in. It is sort of a religious experience for me.
“You’ve been doing a great job with the letters, Eve,” Herb says right away. I am not going to be foiled.
“Thanks.” I am going to wait to see if I get any more compliments.
“I know it isn’t the most challenging of projects, but it is invaluable. We are all still transitioning, but I think you’re doing wonderfully.” He pauses for so long that I almost help him with the words.
“Thanks.” Stay strong. “But I’m quitting.” The chant music swells to the climax as I say that, it works out just perfectly. I can tell Herb didn’t hear me.
“It’s great to have someone like you on the team. Someone with your youth and—” here’s that pause again “—enthusiasm.”
“Thanks a lot. But I’m quitting.” This time he hears me.
“Excuse me?”
“Quitting. This is my two weeks’ notice.�
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“Well, Eve, naturally, I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why are you surprised? I mean I’m just wondering what you know about my character that makes you surprised?” I’m proud of myself for asking this question. It points out the fact that Herb doesn’t really know anything about me. I’ve been his assistant—secretary—whatever—for almost a year and he has no clue why. It makes us both a little uncomfortable, but I’m secretly enjoying it, too. A lot.
“I thought you liked your job.” He is talking much faster now, searching for something he knows about me. “You wanted to write, and I thought we were both in agreement that this correspondence was a step in the right direction.”
“Well—” I am going to be as polite and matter-of-fact as possible “—I guess it could be considered a very baby step, but I think I’ve been here long enough to deserve a chance at a bigger step. Honestly, it just seemed to me like work that no one else had the patience to do.”
Herb looks genuinely shocked by that. “Are you leaving the department or Prescott Nelson altogether?”
“I’m leaving altogether.” This seems to appease him.
“What are you going to do?” Tabitha and I have discussed not mentioning what we want to do to anyone at work. I guess it was sort of silly for me to go straight to the top and tell Prescott, but Tabitha doesn’t know I did. She intends to keep her job if I quit mine and use it for any office supplies and long distance calls we need. She feels it would be ultra-subversive and somehow similar to Gary’s use of the Prescott Nelson messenger to transport drugs. Although it kills me not to tell Herb that I plan to start a magazine, I don’t want to. Even though I don’t want him to think that I’m some stupid kid with no ambition, I want him to know I have it in me to do more, because now I am starting to believe it myself. But, it’s mine and I want to keep it that way, for now.
“I’m going to do something I love,” I say finally, very proud of myself.
“Well, we’ll need to train someone to replace you. You’re giving us two weeks, aren’t you?” He is all business, suddenly concerned about who’ll keep his schedule.
“Yes, two weeks.”
“Thanks, Eve.” I stand up and he holds his hand out for me. I don’t think we’ve ever shook hands before, I squeeze hard, just because. “I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work better.”
I feel great when I walk out of his office. It’s amazing. I thought I would be scared, but I feel free. It’s incredible. I call Tabitha to give her the news.
“Hi, Eve. I can’t talk, the Big C is interviewing editors—I have to be an intimidating presence. I’ll call you back.”
I phone Roseanne, but get her machine. I decide maybe it’s best not to play favorites and tell them together. So I call Human Resources Harry instead and arrange to have a temp train to replace me, starting next Monday.
The next week is sort of weird. I keep trying to get Roseanne and Tabitha together, but one’s too busy with her man when the other one is free. I know I should be happy for them. I mean I’ve been pretty selfish about boys in the past, every dog should have her day, whatever, but it also kind of makes me miss Todd. He gives me a call on Wednesday and I tell him the news. He’s the first person to know that matters.
“Eve, that’s awesome. I’m proud of you. How are you going to get started?”
“I have no idea. This is the scary part. I bought a couple of books and I’m enrolling in a class at the New School. I don’t know anything about the practicality of it, I just know what I want the content to be. How does that sound?”
“It sounds great to me. My own little magazine maker.” We laugh. He is heading to the Philippines in the morning. He promises to e-mail or call when he can.
“Any chance you’ll be in New York anytime soon?”
“I was thinking of stopping over there for a few days on my way back.”
“There is nothing I would rather see than you, all jet-lagged and grumpy. Come on down, you’ll get to see me unemployed and a nervous wreck.”
“Great. I miss you. I really do.”
“I miss you, too. I guess I didn’t think too much about the practicality of this, either. I guess I’m just sort of going with things.”
“Me, too.” We get off the phone before I can get positively giddy, but I do feel a lot better about finally getting it off my chest.
I haven’t even told anyone at work yet. Everyone is still so freaked out about Gary’s drug bust. I’d like my own spotlight, my own fanfare. I decide to make a date with the girls for brunch on Sunday. “It’ll be great,” I tell them separately. “We’ll read the Times, I’ll make a frittata, it’ll be fabulous.”
“Eve, you don’t cook,” says Roseanne.
“I’ll bring the alcohol and the Krispy Kremes,” says Tabitha.
I get up early on Sunday and pick up the paper. I buy the best ingredients and the freshest produce so Roseanne will have nothing to say but “delicious.” The cooking goes off without a hitch and at 12:30 sharp, Tabitha arrives. I think she suspects something, she’s never prompt. I open the door and she pushes mimosa ingredients at me.
“Hi, Tabitha. Why don’t you work on those while I finish this stuff up?”
“Great, I thought I was going to be catered to. Had I known, I would have stayed in bed with Elliot.” She and Roseanne kiss hello.
It takes me a few more minutes to get everything ready and then I bring it into the living room. We sit with the papers spread out in front of us and start to eat. I watch them chew carefully.
“It’s pretty good, Eve.”
“Yeah,” says Tabitha, “I didn’t know you could be domestic.”
I am convinced now that I can, in fact, do anything. I give them a few more minutes to enjoy my frittata deliciousness, before telling them. I clear my throat as they start to look through sections of the paper. Tabitha has the Styles section, Roseanne has the City section. “So, um, the reason I wanted to make brunch for both of you guys is not because I think I can cook or anything, but because I’ve been doing a lot of thinking—”
“Oh, my God!” Tabitha doesn’t look up from her paper, but I know I was right in thinking that she was onto me.
“I’m sorry, it’s taken me so long to come to this, but—”
“Roseanne, it’s us!” Tabitha is shrieking at Roseanne and holding up the paper. “It’s Eve’s elbow and my neck, shoulder and hair—it’s unmistakable.”
“Oh, my God, Tabitha! Oh, my God!” Roseanne is shrieking, too, and staring at the paper. “It is you, I can’t make out Eve, but that’s totally you.”
“It is me! It is! I can’t believe I am in the Styles section on the Times! I’ve arrived! I’ve really arrived!” She is jumping up and down now, screaming with Roseanne.
The floor is shaking from their jumping, the walls are echoing from their shrill voices. Finally I scream louder than they are, if that’s imaginable. “Hey! I’m trying to tell a story! Can anyone listen to me?”
They stop immediately and look at me like I’m a big baby. Then they look at each other like they did when they tried my frittata. I feel like I’m dealing with a two-headed monster. Again, Roseanne speaks first. “God, Eve, you should be happy, you’re in it, too.”
“Barely,” says Tabitha, smirking. This is her payback for my brushes with greatness. She is a bitter, bitter girl.
“Look, you guys, I’m glad parts of us are in the Styles section. It’s great. It’s better than being at the wedding they base the Vows column on, but I have some important news that I’ve been waiting almost a week to share with you.”
They are doing it again, looking at each other. I’ve created a monster, I fully blame myself. Tabitha takes a deep breath. “Eve, what?”
“I did it.”
“Did what?”
“Quit.” They look at each other again. This is getting ridiculous. They shake their heads. The next I know they are grabbing me and hugging me
and shrieking louder than ever. That is the one thing I’m sure of, but it’s fun. I’m jumping up and down with them.
“You know what this means?” Tabitha asks.
“More mimosas,” offers Roseanne.
“Yes, in the immediate sense, but in the long run, the big picture—” this time Roseanne and I shrug at each other “—that we are going to be in the Styles section again. This time it’s going to be one of those ‘A Night Out With’ things they do. It’s going to be a night out with us. It will bring back a celebration of the full-figured woman. This is going to happen for us. Oh, my God! We have to call Adrian! We need more liquor. It’s Sunday, we have to go to a bar. We’ll expense it. It’ll be our first company celebration.”
I get up later than I planned to Monday morning. It’s muggy, I can feel that already. I want to get everything ready for the temp, so I decide to take the subway. It’s waiting at the station as I rush down the stairs. I’m lucky. On the way to work, I compose the e-mail I’m going to send out on Friday. It will have to be meaningful and not sappy. I want to leave a good impression on everyone.
Of course, I forgot again that Monday is now meeting day. I’m worried that the temp is going to be sitting up here waiting for me while I’m at the meeting, but I guess I should go because they are probably going to announce my impending departure. I have to have my swan song.
I head down there and grab a whole wheat bagel with some veggie cream cheese. I look around the room. No one suspects I am going to leave them and move onto greener pastures. (I know what you’re thinking—does anyone care?) Lev, the Yoga for Life editor, starts the announcements. Some guy on his staff, whom I haven’t really met, is leaving to work on a dairy farm in Massachusetts. I’m kind of bummed that he got to go first, all the YFL people get all upset. But maybe it will work to my advantage, maybe the Bicycle Boy crew will feel they have to outdo YFL with their sadness. After a respectable amount of silence Herb gets up and clears his throat. Here we go.
“I’m sorry to say that we have another departure. I know, it seems like everyone is leaving us for one reason or another.” He is referring to Gary, which I think is a cheap attempt to get a laugh. “This woman hasn’t been here long enough. I think she’s changed the way a lot of people think and she’s brought her own individuality to every project she’s worked on. She really shook things up around here. I know you’ll miss her as much as I will, but she’s going on to bigger and better things.”