Amanda came out and greeted her at 10:30.
“Jen! It’s been a long time. How have you been?”
“I got sent to China for seven weeks for a new job. I tried to get my highlights touched up and . . . well, you see.”
Amanda, having now been given permission to be critical of the hair, nodded sympathetically. “Oh, you poor thing. I was wondering!”
“After the bleach job, I didn’t trust anyone in China to try to fix it. I haven’t even been home yet. I came straight here to see you.”
“We’ll get you fixed right up. No one will even know. What happened in China stays in China, right?”
“And how . . .”
“So, you want it back the way it was before, sweetie?”
“You know, I’m thinking maybe my natural color. I just want to look normal.”
“Natural color . . . All right, let’s see what we can find for you. Let’s start out with a nice relaxing wash, okay?”
Amanda led her back toward the sinks. Jen’s mind went back to her conversation with Katie after the bleaching. “Do you think, maybe just a little bit of red? With my natural brown?”
“Oh, sweetie, you would look great with just some little hints of red. I know exactly the right thing.”
An hour and a half later, feeling relaxed and slightly red-headed, Jen sat giving herself a final look over in the rearview before starting the car. Then, out of long habit, she pulled out her phone to check e-mail.
She hesitated, then turned it on. There were several e-mails in her work mailbox, but she ignored them and checked her personal box instead. Among numerous pieces of junk mail, LinkedIn updates, and other detritus that had accumulated during her hours in the air was an e-mail from Lauren Baird at Search Solutions:
“Jen, I know it’s been a long time since we last talked, but I wanted to check and see if you’re still available and potentially interested in the Schneider and Sons opportunity.”
Jen sent back a single word response: “Yes.”
6
It was with a feeling of comforting familiarity that Jen drove down her own street and turned into her own driveway, the garage door opening to meet her. Then she slammed on her brakes as hard as she could, stopping with an audible screech. Katie’s car was parked in the garage. She was preparing her rebuke over this as she backed out of the driveway and parked on the street when it came home to her that she had been gone for a month and a half. Of course, with the condo to herself for so long, Katie would have become used to parking in the garage.
She was wrestling her bag out of the trunk when she heard her sister’s voice, “Jen! You’re back! Oooh, hey, I like the hair.”
Katie ran the last couple of steps down the driveway and gave her sister an enveloping hug. “I heard the garage door opening, and I knew you must be back,” she said in a rush, still not releasing Jen from the hug. “I’m sorry I forgot and left my car in the garage. I’m so glad to see you! Do you want me to move my car so you can park in the garage?”
“Whoa. Calm down, kiddo,” Jen said, prying her sister off. “No, don’t worry about the car. Just help me haul this thing in, okay? I’m glad to see you too.”
They lugged Jen’s bag up the stairs and deposited it just inside the door. Jen found herself casting a quick appraising eye around the condo to see how well Katie had been keeping the place. It was surprisingly neat, counters clean, several new potted plants sitting in the kitchen window.
“How have things been here?”
“Good. Quiet. I’ve been trying some new cooking stuff.”
“That’s it? Nothing exciting? New job? New boyfriend?”
“Um, no . . .” Katie looked away briefly.
Jen snagged a bottle of wine off the counter and was about to pour herself a glass. There was an unsettling feeling of energy running through her and perhaps a drink or two would take the edge off. Then she stopped. “Sheesh, it’s not even noon yet, is it? This time change is going to take some getting used to. It feels like evening.” She went into the living room and flopped on the couch instead. “Well, I’ve got news if you don’t. I quit my job.”
Katie’s look of incredulity was so comic that Jen, in her current adrenaline-based state, laughed aloud.
“You quit your new job?” Katie finally got out. “But . . . you don’t do things like that!”
“What do you mean I don’t do things like that? I just did.”
“But you—wow. I could never do anything like that.”
“What you are talking about? You do all kinds of stuff. You moved out here on the spur of the moment without even telling me. You nearly lost your job at Starbucks because you stayed out all night.”
“I moved out here because I couldn’t take dealing with Mom anymore, and I didn’t call you because I was scared. And that time . . . Starbucks is a stupid job anyway. You’ve got a great job, and you make all kinds of money, and you love it. And you just quit?”
“Yeah, I quit. Best thing I’ve done in weeks. You wouldn’t believe . . . Their manufacturers were a mess. The VP of Procurement they sent out was a complete idiot. He let the Chinese distributor get him trashed the night before negotiations, got walked all over at the negotiating table, and the creep got drunk again that night and hit on me. And then they just clammed up and left me stranded for a couple days. To top it off, I was on the plane, and I read this article—it turns out this woman I spent an evening talking with was actually a reporter, so now there’s this article with me ripping on Aspire’s Chinese manufacturing strategy. So I quit. And I feel great about it. You know, I think I will get that glass of wine. It’s after noon in China.”
Jen returned a moment later with a glass in hand, sat back on the couch, and draped her legs over the arm.
“But you hated being out of work,” Katie said, still sounding concerned and a little confused. “What are you going to do?”
“Look for a better job. I got a note earlier . . .” Jen pulled her phone back out and checked her e-mail. “Ha! I’ve got an interview.”
The e-mail from Lauren read, “Great to hear you’re still available. They’d like to get you for a phone interview. What’s your availability?”
Jen tapped out in reply, “I’m available any time. Just let me know.”
“You quit your job this morning, and you already have an interview?” Katie asked.
Jen pulled up the e-mail and tossed the phone to her.
“What is with you?” Katie demanded. “No one has that happen!”
Jen shrugged. “It happened to me.” She threw back the rest of her glass of wine. “No, look, I’m sorry. That sounds arrogant. I don’t know what it is. I feel really punchy right now. I’m getting some more wine. Do you want something?”
“No,” said Katie flatly. “It’s not afternoon in China for me.”
“I’m thinking maybe I should get really drunk,” said Jen.
“I’m thinking maybe you should go to bed,” responded Katie. “You’re tired and all wound up, and if that company suddenly says they want to call you, you don’t want to be drunk.”
Jen paused on her way to the kitchen. “Oh, that.” She looked doubtful. “Let’s check!” She consulted the phone. Nothing. “What is up with that?” she demanded.
Katie got out of the easy chair and wrested the wine glass from Jen’s hand. “Jen, you need a nap. And even I can see this isn’t the best way to self-medicate stress.” She took her sister by the shoulders and guided her to her room. “Seriously. Get some rest.”
Jen obediently sat on the bed. “Okay.” She kicked off her shoes and lay down. Katie pulled the blanket up over her. The maddening sense of excess energy drained away, and she felt the full force of the exhaustion that had been lurking behind it. She closed her eyes and slept soundly until midafternoon.
When she woke, she found an e-mail waiting for her: “Sorry for the short notice, but can you talk tomorrow (Friday) at 9 A.M. Central? Let me know.”
Seven A.M.
Well, why not? All times were out of joint at the moment. “No problem,” she responded, and provided the cell number at which they should call her.
Having slept off the worst of her jet lag the day before, Jen felt comparatively fresh when she sat down, dressed in business clothes and with notepad and résumé before her, to await her phone interview on Friday morning. She pulled up the website for Schneider and Sons: hardware store founded in 1873 by Gustav Schneider. Under Gustav’s sons, turned into a purveyor of tools known for quality. Original logo (a German eagle with two blackletter S’s) modified in 1941. Now a maker of power tools known for exceptional quality (and price). Located in a small town south of Chicago.
Her phone rang and she answered.
“This is Jen. . . Good morning, Brad. Good to talk to you.”
The interview seemed to go moderately well. Near the end, when Brad, the hiring manager, asked the usual “Do you have any questions for me?” Jen responded with a brief summary of the business aspects of her China trip.
“What I found particularly disturbing was the company’s willingness to put up with chaotic sourcing and mediocre quality in order to get out the gate fast. There was a lot more concern about being in time for seasonal sell-in and about product appearance than there was about brand integrity or good business practices. There may be a place for that, but I chose to quit rather than continue to be a part of it. So, I just want to put my cards on the table and be clear about what kind of business environment I’m not willing to work in. If you choose to move forward with me for this role, I don’t want either of us to be set up for an unpleasant surprise.”
The interview closed shortly thereafter.
Jen took the time to make herself a hot breakfast, then gathered up her things and set out to make her final visit to Aspire Brands. She had considered a last conversation with Bryn, but as she approached the inverse fountain and the tangle of steel beams that stood above it, she realized she had neither the desire nor the patience to revisit any elements of her time there. She went down to the HR offices instead, dropped off her equipment and expense reports, and signed a few forms. Within half an hour, she was back out on the street again, happily unemployed.
It was as she was riding Caltrain back south, away from the City, that she got the call from Lauren.
“They’d like to bring you out for in-person interviews next week. What’s your availability?”
“Next week? I’m completely free. Just have them send me an itinerary.”
“Well, that makes it easy.”
“Any feedback from the interview?”
“Brad said he was particularly impressed by your integrity. Don’t let your game slip. You still need to win over the rest of the interview panel, but I don’t think I’m spilling any secrets to say you’ve got a fan in Brad. I’ll get you a prep document later today with profiles of everyone you’ll be meeting with there. And you can expect to hear from their travel department with an itinerary. Okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Lauren.”
Jen ended the call and sat back. The speed of this progress was as dizzying as the dysfunction that she had dealt with at Aspire, but somehow with none of its unsettling aspects. By the time she pulled into her garage, there was an e-mail waiting for her from Schneider and Sons’ travel department, showing her flights and accommodations for the interview. Fly out Tuesday morning, return Wednesday evening. She would be there and back before she had been home from China for a week.
Katie was still not back from work, and the condo was silent. Jen’s first instinct was to bustle around and do some sort of work, but there was none to do. The dishes were washed, the counter clean, the carpets vacuumed. Katie had clearly settled fully into the responsibilities of living on her own during the time Jen had been away. And yet this left Jen with the feeling almost of living in someone else’s home, a feeling oddly similar to the daily alienation of hotel living that she had become so used to.
She thought briefly of running, or of going out, but what she most wanted was to interact with someone familiar. She scanned through the contact list on her phone, but, of course, it was the middle of the workday. She continued to flip idly through the names and at last found herself calling her parents.
“Hey, Mom, it’s Jen.”
“Jen! How are you? Are you still in China?”
“No, I got back last Thursday. No, wait—yesterday. Yeah. It was yesterday morning. Things have been happening fast around here. I’m going to be flying out your way next week to interview for a job.”
“But, honey, didn’t you just start your job?”
“Yeah, but I quit. This trip, Mom—by the way, I’m sorry I never had the chance to call you guys; it was really crazy over there—this trip was terrible, and it made me realize I really didn’t want to work for Aspire. So I quit. But I have this interview out near you. So, who knows, maybe I’ll be moving back out there.”
“That would be wonderful. We never see you! And Katie, will she be moving back too?”
“Well, keep in mind, Mom, this is just an interview. I haven’t talked with Katie about whether she’d move with me. I guess so. She seems happy living with me.”
“Is Katie doing all right?” her mother asked in a worried tone.
“So far as I know. Why?”
“She called us a few weeks ago to tell us about you in China, and I thought she seemed worried or unhappy about something.”
“Did you ask her about it?”
“Yes, of course, but she told me that everything was fine. Maybe she’s lonely out there. Does she have friends?”
“I think she knows some people at the Starbucks she works at.”
“But is she happy? I think something that makes Katie unhappy is that she’s not good at making friends, but she really needs to know that people care about her. I think she’s lonely—but she would never talk to me about it.”
“I don’t know, Mom. She seems more organized. She’s keeping the condo really clean.”
“Jen.” Her mother’s voice was stern, almost scolding. “Don’t you girls talk?”
“Well, yeah. But just, you know, about stuff.”
“She’s your little sister, Jen. Watch out for her a bit. There’s no one else to do it right now, I’m afraid.”
“Sure, Mom. Don’t worry about it. We’re fine.” She was on the point of ending the call, but a memory tugged at her. “Mom, do you remember a time when Katie got locked in a trunk at Grandma’s old house?”
“Oh goodness, yes! The poor thing. She woke up screaming at night for weeks, and for a long time she was terrified of enclosed places.”
“Really? I’d forgotten all about it until she reminded me, and even then I only remembered the fuss at Grandma’s. I didn’t remember it having any effect on her.”
“You were fifteen. You were off in your own world.”
Jen was chagrined to think that “off in her own world” was how she would have described their mother when they were young. That wasn’t without justice, but she had been less conscious of her own defects than those of others.
“Well, I’ll see if there’s anything on her mind. I might take her out to dinner tonight. It would be nice to talk after having been gone all this time.”
“Yes, do that. Will you have time to come see us when you’re out here?”
“I don’t think so, Mom. It’s going to be pretty busy. I’m only in for two days and one night.”
“Well, let us know how it goes.”
“Is Dad around? Can I say hi to him?”
“He went out to play the back nine before people got off work and the course filled up. He’ll be sorry to have missed your call.”
“Oh well. Give him my best. Goodbye, Mom.”
“Goodbye. And good luck. Your dad and I will keep your interview in our prayers.”
“I was talking to Mom today,” Jen told Katie later that afternoon. “She said she thought something was bothering you. Is everything okay?”
Katie looked momentarily apprehensive. “Jen, you know Mom is nuts. Why do you even listen?”
“She sounded like she cared and was worried about you. Hell, she sounded like she pays more attention than I do.”
“I don’t want to talk about Mom,” Katie announced.
“Okay. Well, here’s what I was thinking: How about if we go out to dinner? I’ve got a job interview next week, and we might as well celebrate.”
“Okay.”
As they drove up into the City to enjoy one of the better restaurants, Jen found herself reflecting on differences in perception. Her mother, who both she and Katie were used to assuming, with reason, had missed a lot of their lives, had somehow noticed more than she. And if Jen had missed so much even as it went on around her, how did others see her?
Tuesday came, and Jen got up early to make her flight. As she dressed, she began to hear sounds from the kitchen and smell food cooking. When she left her room, she found Katie standing before the stove.
“I didn’t expect to see you before leaving this morning. Isn’t it your day off?” Jen asked.
Katie shrugged. “I thought you’d want a good breakfast before your flight.” The smell of fried onions, bacon, and bell peppers rose overpoweringly from a plate where Katie had set them aside. She cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked them vigorously. “Besides, it was awfully quiet here with you gone. It’s nice to be kind of a family again.”
The eggs having cooked to a certain firmness, Katie slid the bacon and vegetables on top, sprinkled cheese over all with a flourish, then let it all cook while she returned various ingredients to the fridge. It was as Katie turned back to her cooking that Jen found her attention taken, indeed assaulted, by Katie’s shorts. That Katie was wearing cropped pink sweat shorts with her signature pajama tank top Jen had seen before. What had somehow failed to register until this moment was that, emblazoned across her bottom in large, black, collegiate letters was the word ASS.
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