Searching For Meredith Love

by Julie Christensen

  There had been a rush of adrenaline during her interaction with Ben that had displaced the desire to cry. Returning to her damp, empty house seemed like a sure way to lose the rush. The only option was to call Sarah, but that idea depressed her. You’re Sarahed-out. You need a break from her. But she’d never really made any other friends here. She’d had tons of friends in New York, but her life here was completely different. She was completely different. The entrails of her black mood were creeping forward. She had to do something. Her cell phone was dead, as usual. Searching her car floor for dimes and quarters, she ran back into Double Rainbow. They still had a pay phone in the front. It was almost like antique, a vestige of a less hectic time. Sarah's machine picked up and Meredith hesitated, but then spoke in case Sarah was screening calls. “Hey, it’s Meredith. Just thought you might want to have lunch with me. I’m at Double Rainbow. The new one. It’s about three. I’ll be here another thirty minutes if you get this message.” She hung up, deeply disappointed. She wondered if Sarah was screening her phone call. Maybe Sarah needed a break from her. The thought sunk her down a few more inches. I won’t continue like this, she thought fiercely. There must be someone else I can call. Racking her brain, she thought of Kira. She was in the book. Meredith dialed, thinking, She isn’t going to want to hang out with you. At the sixth digit, she hung up. Her coins came clanking down into the return slot. She dug them out and re-deposited. It’s worth asking, anyway. She can say no. The idea of no made her hang up again. I can’t go home, she told herself. I have to be around someone. This time when she put the coins in she dialed fast and took a deep breath, exhaling as the phone started to ring. She was watching the rain, not calling someone who didn’t want to talk to her.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, may I speak with Kira?”

  “Speaking.” She sounded busy.

  “Hi Kira, this is Meredith Love from work.”

  “Oh, hi Meredith.” She sounded impatient, and Meredith started to rush the words out.

  “Hi. I was just thinking, and you should feel free to say no, but it’s such a nice rainy day out that I thought I’d like to get a cup of coffee and I thought you might be interested. But you’re probably busy. I know that Saturdays can be good days to get a lot of work accomplished.”

  “No, I’m not doing anything. I’d love to get out of this house.”

  “Really?” Meredith felt a wave of relief wash over her.

  “Absolutely. Where should we meet? Double Rainbow?”

  Meredith didn’t want to run into Sarah. “How about Java Joe’s?”

  After coffee, they went to a movie. After the movie, they had dinner at an Italian restaurant that Kira knew. They finished the evening up with dessert at Double Rainbow. Full circle, Meredith thought, as she ate another bit of her Key Lime pie. The rain seemed cozy now. So different from the starkness of earlier.

  Kira was telling her about her part-time job at a florist shop.

  “Two jobs? How do you have time for anything else?”

  Kira shrugged. It’s not that bad. It’s only twelve hours a week.” She took a bite of her coconut pie. “We spend way over our means. We’ve got awful debt. So for two years we’re biting the bullet. When it’s over, we’ll be back in the black again. Then we can start fresh, with a budget.”

  “That’s so responsible.”

  Kira laughed. “Yep, we’re pretty responsible. Now, anyway. Of course, I just spent the entire month’s entertainment allowance on today’s outing.”

  “How long have you been married?”

  “Gosh. Almost eleven years. I can’t believe it. Since I was twenty-one.”

  The coffeehouse was full and a long line was curling back toward their table. They were almost done eating, but Meredith didn’t want the evening to end. “Was that scary, to get married so young?”

  “No, it wasn’t. I should have been scared...” She played idly with her pie. “Our parents were opposed.” Then she laid down her fork and looked up, shrugging. “But I was so positive that Jeremy was the one for me. I didn’t have a single doubt.”

  Meredith wondered how she felt now, eleven years later, but she didn’t ask.

  “Have you ever been married?” Kira asked her.

  Meredith was startled by the question. “Nope. Un unh.” She started playing with her own pie. “Actually, I barely even date. Men and me don’t seem to mix. I'm sort of what you'd call the anti-Christ when I'm around them.”

  “Oh, you’re gay?” Kira asked politely.

  “No.” Meredith felt her cheeks flame. Well, she’d gotten herself into this, she might as well get herself out. “No, I’m straight,” she said apologetically. “I haven’t got a lot of dating experience. And men make me nervous. When I’m nervous, crazy thoughts pop into my head. Then they pop out of my mouth, and drive men away.”

  “You can’t be that bad,” Kira said. “Give me an example.”

  “Uh. Let’s see. Well, a few years ago a guy from a class asked me on a date. My friend Sarah convinced me to get dressed up, so I already felt uncomfortable. Then, when the guy came to my door, he said, ‘Wow, you look really pretty,’ and I said, ‘I’m not going to have sex with you.’”

  Kira laughed. “Okay, you win.” She shook her head. “But I can’t understand why. You’re so pretty. You’ve got great hair.”

  “I don’t really think I’m pretty,” Meredith said. “But anyway, looks aren’t what get a guy. I’ve known lots of people who are plain, and they date all the time.”

  “Well, what makes you so nervous?”

  Meredith laughed. “Probably it’s from trying to pretend I’m not a social misfit.”

  “No, really. Why do you think?”

  Meredith cocked her head. “I don’t know how to flirt.”

  “Oh my God! I’m a great flirt. I should give you flirting lessons!”

  Meredith laughed. “They wouldn’t work. My fear would crush any attempts at flirting.”

  Kira wasn’t phased. “You don’t strike me as someone who’s easily frightened.”

  Meredith felt her jaw drop. “Are you nuts? I’m afraid of everything!”

  Kira just smiled politely. “It’s interesting to hear the differences between how you perceive someone and how they perceive themselves.”

  “I was so scared to call you today that I hung up three times in the middle of dialing.” Meredith felt her cheeks get even hotter, but she felt compelled to prove to Kira that she was wrong.

  “And yet, as frightened as you were, you managed to call me. Wow. That’s pretty impressive.”

  By the time Meredith got home that night, the rain had stopped. She felt solid. Happy through and through. It was almost midnight. She felt like Cinderella as she floated up to her door.

  The answering machine had one message. From Sarah. “Sorry I missed you for lunch. I was in Santa Fe all day. With Bobby. We ate at the greatest restaurant. French New Mexican cuisine. Wait till you try it. Where the hell are you? Call me when you get in.”

  Meredith wished she could bottle her good feeling to save it for later. Instead of calling Sarah she went to bed.

  There was a steady din in the hospital cafeteria. Beepers were going off like relay races. Men and women wearing shower caps and gauze boots over their shoes were stopping to chat at tables as they carried their trays to the garbage. Bandaged patients were attempting to eat. Meredith was focusing on her plate to avoid the sight of a burn victim eating a cheeseburger at the table across from her. Sarah was agitated, getting angry about the absence of napkins on the table.

  “How can anyone eat in this place?” She exclaimed. “They hide straws. They make you bus your own table.” She looked at a man two tables away eating alone with an IV on a four-wheeled stand behind him.

  “They’re not contagious,” Meredith told her, hypocritically, as she angled her chair to put the burn victim completely out of her line of vision. For a minute, her pizza transformed to the red, peeled skin of the patient. Wit
h effort, she pushed the image from her mind and stoically took a bite. “A meal with dessert costs three-fifty.”

  “Is it the money? Cripes I’d buy you lunch at a decent place.”

  “It’s not just the money. I only have an hour for lunch. Eating off-campus takes too long. How’s work?”

  “Well, let’s see. Jill walked out this morning.” Jill was Sarah's secretary.

  “What do you mean, walked out?”

  Sarah was visibly exasperated. “Walked out. Pushed her chair back. Stood up. Took her purse and coat off the hook and walked out the door.”

  Was this the real source of Sarah's irritability, Meredith wondered. “Why did she do that?”

  “Who knows? Because she’s a selfish, hostile little creature.”

  Meredith was surprised by the outburst. She began to probe gently. “Were you there when she left?”

  “Oh yes,” Sarah said. She hadn’t touched her food yet.

  Meredith thought she already knew, but she asked, “Did she explain why she was leaving?”

  “Explain? Well, I guess she did. Let’s see, what did she say?” Sarah looked at a point over Meredith's head and said, “Oh, yes, I believe her exact words were that I was a small, mean woman with too much power for my own good and that she wasn’t going to let me make her feel stupid and unworthy for even one more minute of her precious life.”

  Meredith was stunned. The words were still resonating inside of her when Sarah said, “She must have stayed up late planning that line out. Before today, I’d never heard her successfully string three words together. I only kept her on because she was so well-organized. But she dressed like a combination of you and my sister the housewife, and I need the first person my clients meet to be hip, like my phone covers.”

  Meredith took a long drag of oxygen, nursing the stab wound she’d just received. She was still trying to sort through the multiple facets of Sarah's hostility when Sarah said, “So, where were you Saturday?”

  Or was that what this anger was all about, Meredith wondered. She went with her first instinct, to lie. “Oh, I went shopping.”

  “For eight hours?” Sarah's eyes were fixed intently on her.

  “Oh, and also I went to the movies and out to dinner.”

  “By yourself?”

  Meredith nodded, trying to hold Sarah's gaze so that she didn’t look like she was hiding something.

  Sarah settled back in her chair, relaxing ever so slightly as confusion seeped in over accusation. “Well, that’s a new one. Why would you do all that stuff alone? You can’t even go grocery shopping alone.”

  “I do all sorts of things alone,” Meredith stated. “What did you do, call my house every hour?”

  Sarah rolled her eyes away and then looked back. “Sorry.” She leaned in and took Meredith's hand and squeezed it. “Sorry. I kept calling to invite you to dinner with us.” She smiled in a self-ridiculing way. “I think I get jealous sometimes of your private world, down there in the South Valley. Do you have all these friends down there that I've never met?”

  Meredith put her other hand on top of Sarah's. “No, but what are you worried about? Look at you. You have tons of friends. And I don’t get threatened.”

  “Those are just acquaintances. They don’t count. A friend is different. You’re my only real friend.”

  “No friend of mine would ever replace you, Sarah.” She added, “But I was alone Saturday, just like I said.”

  The week passed slowly, mainly because Corky seemed to have taken up permanent residence in Meredith’s office. “Do you have a copy of the printout you gave me yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you give me another? I’ve misplaced the first one.” Corky had a tendency to talk in a little girl’s voice when she wanted to ingratiate herself. Meredith felt her hackles rise as she stormed to the Xerox room to make more copies.

  Meredith had spoken to Doug about Corky’s desire to use her, instead of her secretary for data entry. He had leaned back in his chair and nodded, like he understood.

  “It’s your call, Meredith. But if her secretary does do a bad job, it will cost you as much time to fix it.”

  “But if I do her data entry, she’ll start trying to use me for all her data entry.”

  “This is a special case, though. She’s under a deadline.”

  “She’s always under a deadline. But fine, I’ll do it.”

  “It’s your call, Meredith. I’ll back you up either way.”

  By Wednesday, she had given up fighting and stayed late to finish the data entry for Corky’s project. “It’s worth it just to get her out of my hair,” she said to the empty office.

  On Saturday, Meredith woke early. Her tea steeped while she brushed her teeth. It had rained again the night before. Outside, the clouds were smeared in a purplish gray across the clear blue sky. Small, white clouds hung over them. A rooster was crowing and Meredith could hear a distant neighbor’s horse snorting. The morning air seemed to carry crystal clear sounds into her yard as if the horses were a foot in front of her.

  Meredith drank her tea leisurely. Tonight she was attending one of Sarah's parties. Just the thought made her stomach clench. She hated crowds as much as Sarah relished them. Sarah was always showing up to dinner with the odd client, designer, or employee in tow. Wherever they went, Sarah knew people, and Meredith would inevitably sit, silently raging while Sarah blathered on with someone Meredith barely knew. Sometimes Sarah would introduce her, but often she forgot. “I’m sorry,” she’d say afterwards, “but I thought it was going to be a quick chat.” Another bone of contention between them was the way Sarah’s conversations always centered on market regions and sales reps, things Meredith knew nothing about. Even if she wanted to participate, she couldn’t, because it’d be like trying to converse in a foreign language.

  “Just join in next time,” Sarah always told her afterwards. “You could bring your perspective to the conversation.”

  Meredith would frown. “She didn’t care what I had to say. Did you see the disdain when you told her I was a secretary?”

  Sarah would be shaking her head before Meredith had even finished. “There was no disdain!”

  “She didn’t even make eye contact!” Meredith would counter, waves of anger rising up and flooding her.

  “She’s shy!” Sarah would argue. “She doesn’t know you.”

  At that point, Meredith would drop it. Why bother? Sarah clearly didn’t understand and Meredith didn’t like to annoy her. Instead, the interactions continued, and parties were particularly loathsome. They were always dominated by marketing and sales people. Meredith couldn’t understand why it was so important for Sarah to have her there.

  “You aren’t going to come to my party?” Sarah would ask with thinly veiled hurt feelings.

  “Sarah, why do you need me there? It’s all company stuff anyway. And you know how I hate groups.”

  That last defense never worked with Sarah. She refused to accept Meredith's argument as a valid reason for avoiding parties.

  “You have to come, Meredith. Joe and Diana will be upset if you don’t. They were just asking about you the other day...”

  And so Meredith always went. She’d pull up in her car and sit at the wheel, deep-breathing and watching as other cars parked. Sarah's guests strolled up to Sarah's apartment building and disappeared inside. The longer Meredith sat, the harder it was to get out of her car. The best way was to not think about going in, and then suddenly jump out of the car and rush to the apartment before her fears had a chance to rally together and stop her. She could picture them chasing after her as she’d hurry up the walk into Sarah's building.

  Stepping into a wave of heat created by so many bodies, Meredith would remind herself, “Nobody’s looking at you.” Of course, standing alone just inside the door, her face was hot with imagined stares. Meredith usually resorted to finding Sarah and shadowing her all night. Sometimes, there’d be an unusually friendly person who was will
ing to spend her night talking to a stranger, and Meredith would let her talk all night while she disappeared next to her, unseen by the room because she wasn’t alone.

  Meredith finished her tea and abandoned the front porch. She had a relaxing day planned to counteract the stressful night ahead. She had a massage scheduled at eleven. She had a great book set aside to begin reading this morning, and in the afternoon she was going to make green chile stew for next week’s lunches. Autumn was here, her favorite season. She could almost smell green chile roasting in the crisp air already.

  With the rain, it was cool enough for a fire, so she built a small one of kindling wood and newspapers. She set the kettle on the stove and rinsed her mug in the sink. While she waited for water to boil, she cut a big wad of goat cheese and laid it on a plate with crackers. There was a plum tomato on the windowsill so she sliced it into thin disks. The plate had a cobalt glaze that made the red tomatoes come alive. The kettle was fogging the kitchen window. She poured the water into the mug with a lemon tea bag and headed back to the fire. Settling into her rocker, she set down her mug and plate and opened the book.

  Halfway through the first page, her phone rang. Lifting the plate off her lap, she grabbed the phone out of its cradle on the third ring.

  “Meredith, thank god you’re home,” Sarah voice sounded deeply distressed.

  With her heart in her mouth, Meredith asked, “What’s the matter?” She thought for a moment she might faint. She wasn’t good in crisis.

  “The caterer is vomiting and she’s canceled.”

  For a minute, Meredith couldn’t register that nothing was wrong. She still felt lightheaded and leaned against the wall to steady herself. “She’s ill?”