The Boyfriend Swap

by Meredith Schorr

  Interrupting my rumination, a woman at the table to my left in the hotel’s outdoor café said, “I hope the next twenty-four hours go by very slowly. I never want to leave.”

  Her male companion said, “I know. Even during the hour it rains, stormy Barbados is paradise compared to the brutal winter in Mount Kisco.”

  This caught my attention since Mount Kisco wasn’t far from my folks’ estate in Scarsdale. I glanced over at the thirty-something couple just as the woman scrunched her sunburned face in irritation. “It’s not even the weather. It’s those awful Millers. God knows what our lawn will look like when we get back.”

  The waitress came by with my lunch, and after ordering another glass of iced tea, I cocked my head at a better angle to eavesdrop on their conversation. I craved drama, and fighting neighbors would do nicely.

  “I know. The nerve of them cutting our hedges without our permission. How would they feel if we painted their mailbox in neon green or drew a hopscotch board on their driveway?” the man said.

  The woman frowned. “I know we promised to fix things, but did they really expect us to cut hedges in the middle of winter?”

  Smirking, the man said, “I guess so, considering they couldn’t wait until the spring before doing it themselves.”

  A lawyer on sabbatical was still a lawyer, and it occurred to me what their neighbors did was not only unneighborly and ballsy, but it might be illegal. Perhaps it wasn’t my business, although it never stopped me before, but I believed my fellow beachcombers might want to hear what I had to say. “Excuse me,” I said.

  When the couple failed to answer me, I cleared my throat. “Pardon me,” I said in a louder voice until both heads turned my way. “I couldn’t help but overhear your predicament. I’m an attorney.” When both sets of brown eyes opened wide in what I took as horror, I waved my hand. “You have nothing to worry about. In fact, I think you might like what I have to say.”

  The two exchanged a glance before looking back at me. With a timid smile, the woman said, “By all means then.”

  “You said your neighbors trimmed your hedges without your permission?” I asked.

  The man nodded. “They complained our hedges had grown so long, they blocked their light.”

  “They asked us to trim them and we were planning to, but the request came on a Thursday night and we were going away for a long weekend. We said we’d handle it when we got back, but Mother Nature had other plans,” the woman added. “I went to take out the garbage on Saturday morning the week before Christmas and there was Mr. Miller bundled up in his winter jacket, hat, and scarf. He was humming Broadway show tunes like it wasn’t at all unusual he was trimming our hedges.”

  An image of Perry in a quilted parka and knit hat singing songs from Sweeney Todd flashed before my eyes, and I jutted my head back. Where did that come from? I shook off the hallucination and resumed my lawyer role. “If your hedges fall squarely on your own property, your neighbors aren’t allowed to trim them. It’s against the law.”

  My new friends gaped at me in silence until the Mrs. asked, “Really?”

  Nodding, I said, “I suggest you hire a surveyor to determine exactly where the property line is. If anything they did damaged the trees, they can be liable.” I motioned for the waitress to bring over my check so I wouldn’t be stuck at the table until dinnertime. Since I’d arrived almost two weeks earlier, I’d learned Barbados time was very different from New York time.

  The woman focused on her partner. “What do you think?”

  He put down his coffee cup and turned to me. “This is really helpful. Thank you so much…What’s your name?”

  “Sidney,” I said, my lips curling up.

  “I’m Jack, and this is Diane. And yes, we’ve heard it before.”

  Chuckling I said, “Cute.”

  Diane beamed at me. “I feel so much better now. Lucky for us you were sitting here.”

  I felt myself flush as a bolt of adrenaline rushed through me. Next time someone accused me of being nosy, I’d tell them how my meddling once helped an anxious couple to relax on their vacation. “I’m so happy I could offer my assistance. And it’s free of charge,” I said as the waitress placed my bill in front of me in record time.

  Jack smirked at Diane. “Betcha we never hear that phrase again from a lawyer.” He turned to me and shrugged. “No offense.”

  I snickered. “None taken. The bottom line is your neighbors were probably not within their rights. Your only obligation is to abide by a reasonable expectation to keep your property safe and not cause injury to your neighbors’ property. If you confirm the hedges are on your side of the property, you’ll have grounds to sue. I wouldn’t suggest being litigious because you still have to live next door to these people. But it’s something you can throw in their face to prevent them from taking liberties in the future. They should have waited for you to cut your own hedges in the spring.” I signed my bill and stood up. “I’m staying in the hotel, so if you have any questions, I’ll be around.”

  “Thanks again,” Jack and Diane said in unison.

  With a final wave, I left the restaurant and headed over to the lap pool. I threw my bag and towel over an empty beach chair and climbed the steps into the water. I was ultra-awake and figured laps was a productive way to work off my excess energy. As I pushed my arms and legs through the water with the breaststroke, I felt high on life. I had never practiced residential real estate, but evidently some of what I learned in law school and through studying for the Bar stuck. I had skills. When I reached the other side of the pool, I pushed against the edge and turned around.

  Not only was I a talented attorney, but I liked what I did. I enjoyed counseling clients and making their lives easier. My heart was racing, and I knew it wasn’t only because of the calories I was burning. It was because I knew without a doubt I still wanted to be a lawyer. Not because my last name was Bellows, but because it made me happy. This time, when I reached the other side of the pool, instead of turning around, I pushed myself over the edge, stood up, and returned to my chair. I was on the cusp of an epiphany and needed a minute to capture my thoughts.

  I lay back in my chair with my eyes closed and let the hot sun dry my body. A few moments later, I opened my eyes and sat up. I observed the couples holding hands poolside, the small children splashing around in the water, and the groups of girlfriends working on their afternoon buzz. Then I took a sweeping gaze of my surroundings—the bright blue sky, glistening pool water, and rise and fall of the ocean waves in the distance. It was a sight to behold. But it was time to go home.

  Robyn

  “Hi, Mom.” The ache festering in the back of my throat left me short of breath as I answered the phone. Since coming home after the holidays, I’d managed to bullshit my way through our telephone conversations for almost a month. When she asked how Will was doing, I said, “fine.” As far as I knew, it was the truth. My confidence with respect to maintaining the lie was wearing thin in light of the newest development. I also craved her advice, which she wouldn’t be able to give until I was honest with her.

  “Hi, honey. How are you?” My mom’s voice was calm, as if she wasn’t expecting this phone call to be any different than the ones we usually exchanged, during which we confirmed our mental and physical wellbeing, shared any newsworthy events, traded “I love yous,” and hung up. She could be in for a big surprise.

  I sat on my bed with my feet dangling over the edge. “Back to school. Back to reality,” I sang it to the tune of the song “Back2Life” from the late eighties. My parents played the tape in the background pretty often during my toddler years.

  Predictably, my mom said, “I wonder whatever happened to Soul II Soul,” before releasing a wistful sigh.

  “There’s this thing where you can look stuff like that up, you know? It’s called the internet.” I chuckled.

  “I’m way ah
ead of you, kid.” I heard her tapping the keys of a computer. “How’s school?”

  “They want me to direct a mid-winter concert this year the second week of February, right before mid-winter recess. I only have about three weeks to prepare.” Thankfully, the concert would be limited to the fourth and fifth graders. They were easier to train than the younger kids. I was too thrilled the music program was intact to complain about the extra last-minute work on my plate.

  “Holding another concert is a good sign for the fate of your position at the school though, right?”

  “I’m pleased to report my job is safe, and more importantly, so is the music program.” My lips curled up at my expression of happy news.

  My mom squealed. “That’s wonderful. By the way, according to Wikipedia, Soul II Soul disappeared in 1997 but have been back in action since 2007. I have to tell your dad. Maybe we’ll catch a gig. Back to you. Tell me more about the school.”

  I breathed deeply in and out of my nose. I could lie and say Will saved the day because I was his girlfriend, but it wouldn’t be right. And it wouldn’t be true. As the knots twisted in my belly, I braced myself for what I was about to say. “A law firm used its charitable foundation to gift the funds. It will be enough to keep the program going for the next five years.”

  My mom whistled. “Wow. What firm? A rich parent?”

  I chewed a nail. My first instinct had been whoever was responsible did it on my behalf. I hadn’t even thought about it being an unrelated third party. But it could have been anyone. I wasn’t the only concerned individual in the story. Lance might have talked to someone. Even Lynn. Or perhaps an active parent in the PTA got wind of the budget troubles and pulled some strings. “I don’t know exactly. It went through the superintendent, but I intend to find out.” Despite the broader array of possibilities from which to choose, my gut stuck to my original conclusion. In a much lower voice, I said, “I think Will might be responsible.”

  “What do you mean, you think? Have you asked him?”

  “Not exactly.”

  My mom was silent for a beat. “You two aren’t fighting, are you?”

  I closed my eyes and blew a stream of air through my lips. “Mom, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Chapter 20

  Sidney

  “I knew you’d be back,” my father said. He was reclined in his office chair, one foot leaning against his wooden desk and his arms locked behind his head.

  My dad’s cocky expression could rival Perry’s at his most obnoxious. If I weren’t the fruit of his loins, I’d be tempted to pop him one in the nose. “You did not.” I recalled the fearful look in his eyes when he finally agreed to let me take a break. He was terrified I’d take a bartending gig like Tom Cruise in Cocktail and never come back.

  He removed his foot from the desk and pushed his chair closer. “I’m your father. I always know. And by the way, you’re a chip off the old block. I’ve never taken more than a two-week break from the office in my entire career, and I knew you wouldn’t be able to either.” He cackled. “You didn’t even make it a full two weeks.”

  My mouth instinctively opened to make my next argument, but I managed to close my lips before I uttered another combative word. Yes, I had come to realize during my time in Barbados that I loved being an attorney and part of my job was to have the last word, silence the opposition, and win at any cost. But during my brief hiatus from work and life, I’d also discovered I didn’t have to bring my career skills with me everywhere I went. It was okay to let someone else win on occasion, and by doing so, I might end up being victorious in other ways. Harvey was my father. What would be so horrible about letting him think he had one over on me? It would make him happy and might reduce my own stress from the energy I exerted fighting. The bottom line was I was back at work, ready to serve my clients and earn my partnership. Nothing else mattered.

  “On a serious note, I’m glad this little moratorium confirmed what I’ve known all along: you’re perfect just as you are.” My dad’s expression oozed affection and tenderness.

  Even as my heart warmed at his comment, and despite my resolution to maintain a more agreeable attitude on all things unrelated to my career, I felt the need to correct him this one time. “I love you for saying that, and until a few days ago, I would have agreed with you.”

  “What happened a few days ago?” my dad asked. He placed an elbow on the desk and rested his chin in his hand.

  “I know you think my little getaway was whimsical and a costly waste of time and airline miles, but I got exactly what I needed from it. I knew I would. I just thought it would take longer.” I gave him a sly smile. “It’s because I’m highly intelligent.”

  My dad chuckled. “Do you care to share what you learned with me?”

  I blew out a breath and leaned back in my chair. These types of conversations were outside of my comfort zone. I rarely admitted weakness to myself, much less other people. But confiding in my father was a perfect way to kick off my commitment to be more in touch with my softer side. “You all did a number on me at Christmas dinner.” I got a phantom ache in my neck whenever I recalled looking from one side of the table to the other like it was a game of volleyball as various members of my clan chimed in with their two cents on my relationship foibles.

  My father frowned. “It was that damn La Faraona. It turned us into vultures.”

  “That’s right. Blame it on someone, or in this case something, else. You’re such a lawyer sometimes,” I joked. “I’m glad it happened. Yes, the respite from work made me realize how much I do enjoy being an attorney. I missed it. But it also taught me that not everyone in my life is an adversary, and I don’t have to treat them as such. Sometimes I need to relinquish control and let someone else win. Moving forward, you’re going to see a gentler Sidney Bellows.”

  My father studied my face for a few moments as if waiting for me to continue talking or say “just kidding.” I braced myself for his response. I was certain he was going to roll his eyes, make a teasing comment about believing it when he saw it, or both. Right at the moment the wait became unbearable, his mouth opened and I curled the fingers of both of my hands around the edge of my chair.

  “Knock, knock.”

  I turned around as Mike Goldberg entered my father’s office. He did a double take when he saw me. “JB. We didn’t expect you back so soon.” His attempt to look happy to see me did nothing to hide his displeasure.

  The old Sidney would have thrown back a sarcastic reply faster than he could say “douche,” but the new Sidney was suited up and ready for action. “Hi, Mike. My vacation was really nice, but I actually missed this place. I just need a few hours to go through pending cases and return some emails, but I’ll be back and ready to assist you and the other partners by lunchtime.” I smiled.

  Mike blinked at me as if he thought he might be living an alternate reality. “Okay, then. Glad to have you back.” Then he turned to my dad. “I’m sorry to barge in here, but when your meeting with Sidney is over, can I get your thoughts on the email I just sent you? I have a meeting with Sparks this afternoon and need input on one issue.”

  I stood up. “We just finished.”

  My dad motioned for me to sit back down. “Actually, we need a few more minutes. I’ll give you a call in a bit.”

  Mike nodded. “Great.” To me, he said, “Later.”

  “Bye,” I said cheerily. After he walked out, I faced my dad again. He was gaping at me. “Who was that?”

  I furrowed my brow. “You mean Mike? Are you having a senior moment, Dad?”

  “No, not Mike.” He rolled his eyes. “You.”

  I knew my dad was referring to my companionable exchange with Mike, but it was fun to bust his chops. “Oh, that.” I waved him away. “Like I said, Barbados has made me a new woman.”

  He smirked. “We’ll see how long it lasts.”
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br />   I let my gaze fall to the floor as my stomach dropped in disappointment, but I wasn’t going to let my father’s cocky cynicism get to me. I knew I could better compartmentalize the different aspects of my life. I’d need to completely retrain myself and react to people and situations at a slower rate to avoid letting old habits take control, but I refused to be discouraged. When I felt my dad’s eyes on me, I looked up at him.

  He smiled at me with warm eyes. “What I was about to say before Mike came in was that your mother and I would be history ages ago if I didn’t let her win sometimes. Of course, I only let her think she’s winning, but it accomplishes the same thing. It’s how it’s done, kiddo. Like I said, you’re a chip off the old block.”

  I felt my face brighten. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “I would caution against you turning into a doormat, but a turnaround of such magnitude would require a lobotomy.” He snickered. “Balance is the key.”

  I glanced at my watch and blanched. “Geez. It’s almost ten.” I stood up. With my back to him as I walked toward his door, I said, “Good advice. Thanks, Dad.”

  “Oh, and Sid?”

  I turned around to face him.

  “Mike is still your enemy.” He chuckled.

  “I know. I was merely making a point.” I winked at him and stepped out of his office.

  Robyn

  “What do you need to tell me?” my mom asked.

  I stood up and walked to my window. Snow was falling lightly outside but seemed to be melting mid-air because nothing was sticking to the ground below. I felt like I was watching a black and white movie—not a fun one like It Happened One Night or The Philadelphia Story, but a depressing one like The Grapes of Wrath or To Kill a Mockingbird. “Will’s not my boyfriend, Mom.”