by Abbi Waxman
“Really?” I said. “We’ll be seeing Amanda and Robert in New York.”
“I know, but I think it would be fun to meet more people who knew you when you were in college.”
I’d duly wandered onto my Facebook page to see who was still around. Not as many as you’d think. Several of us had stayed in New York after graduation, including me, but after two-plus decades, most of us had abandoned the city for more affordable digs. I reached out to David Millar, who was in Philadelphia; Helen Gonzalez, another friend, was teaching at Vassar, for crying out loud; and of course my best friend, Amanda. I’d stayed in touch with her anyway; that one was a no-brainer. She’d married another college friend, actually, which was efficient and helpful of her. She and Robert were still in Manhattan, having had the good luck to buy a brownstone before the market went bananas. For once the stars had aligned and all of them had been excited to get together.
Now we were going to have drinks with David Millar before having dinner with my dad, which had seemed possible when I set it up, but now seemed like an exhausting overreach. But I could tell Emily was still vexed with me about disappearing that morning, so I took a very deep breath and pulled it together. Maybe it’s not lifting a car off a small, bloodied child, but it felt pretty heroic to me.
While I got dressed I asked Emily about the tours I’d missed, the rest of the American University tour and Johns Hopkins. She seemed more enthusiastic about the bus trip in between, to be honest.
EMILY
Mom thinks more about Valentina than she does about me. Maybe she prefers her because she’s essentially a mini her, whereas I am a failure. She asked me about the tours, of course. I told her the truth: I liked Johns Hopkins a lot, but then I checked the admissions requirements and there’s no way. Never mind. I liked Philadelphia in general; it’s a city I could totally see myself living in one day. Not that I can really imagine living anywhere except where I live and maybe some TV town like Stars Hollow. Then I told her about the bus, and it’s possible I seemed more into the bus than anything else on the trip so far. Sorry not sorry.
Mom was trying really hard to keep it light, especially as she was attempting to do a cat-eye eyeliner for the first time in several years, but eventually she couldn’t hold it in.
She blurted out, “Do you have any sense of what you might study, yet?”
I shook my head.
“Lots of places don’t make you pick a major, right?”
I nodded.
“So you could choose a college and then take a gap year, and not pick a major until the end of the first year, so that would give you actually three more years before you need to decide what you want to study. You could even take a year off after high school and go live in London.” She paused. “Or somewhere else, doesn’t have to be London. Who knows what you’ll want by that point?”
Probably just to shoot myself, but I didn’t say that. “Mom, I don’t want to put off my future, I want to start living it. I’m not sure what to study yet.”
This shut her up, as I knew it would. She’s trying hard to be cool, my mom, but I could see the warring impulses on her face. It is a face I’ve been studying closely for sixteen years, after all. On the one hand she’s worried I’ll end up living in the garage because I can’t support myself, and on the other she doesn’t want to be the kind of mom who pushes her kids too hard and drives them away. Remind me not to have kids; it’s hell on your figure and gives you heartburn.
Eventually her good angel won. “Fair enough, baby. You’ll let me know when you work out what you want.” She went back to trying for that perfect cat eye.
I wanted to say, Mom, you’ll be the second person to know, after me. But I’m not sure she isn’t tired of hearing it.
JESSICA
I managed to get dressed for dinner without grilling Emily more than once, which I think is a bit of a triumph. Of course, I had a headache, which weakened me. And I’m nervous about seeing David Millar this evening, because he was the first guy I dated in college, and Emily doesn’t know that.
David and I met literally on the first day of school. He sat next to me in a lecture, and by the end of it I was more aware of him than I’d ever been of any man in my life before. Not that I’d known many men, to be fair, I was all of nineteen and I’d only lost my virginity the previous year, but still. There was something about him that appealed to me on a cellular level, and by the end of the first week we were having the kind of sex I’d only seen in movies. He blew my tiny little mind, and I blew his tiny little mind, which is even hotter, as you know. We spent so much time in bed we both got a C in that class, and it was totally worth it.
But anyway, it’s not like I can lean over and say to Emily, Hey, the guy we’re seeing later is a sexual god, would you like to hear some of his moves? Would you like to hear about all the places we had sex? Would you like to hear about how hot sex can be between two nineteen-year-olds who are insane with lust and in peak physical condition? She’d probably take a crowbar to the hotel window and throw herself out.
EMILY
It turned out that old friend of Mom’s was actually good looking, in an older-teacher-the-moms-flirt-with kind of way. We have a biology teacher like that; it’s hilarious. They think we don’t notice, but please . . . biology isn’t that funny.
Mom also thinks I didn’t notice she put makeup on and got dressed more carefully than usual. I didn’t say anything, just loaned her my mascara, and then some makeup wipes when she got it all over her eyelids. Honestly.
She asked me how she looked and I told her the truth: good. My mom is still pretty slim, and she has great arms. Well, whaddya know, she’d packed a sleeveless top I’d never seen before, and she put on slightly nicer-than-normal dark jeans, and even boots. She’s always bugging me to take up archery, which is where she got the arms, and maybe I should.
Anyway, we went down to the hotel bar, and when the guy waved across at us, I was pretty impressed.
“Wow, he’s kind of cute for an old guy,” I said.
“Oh please,” replied my mom. “He’s not old. He’s my age.”
“You said it, not me,” I said, but then we were at the table so I stuck out my hand and introduced myself.
The guy grinned and said it was nice to meet me, but then he came around the table and gave my mom a full up-and-down look and pulled her into a hug. And I’m not talking the kind of hug adults usually give each other, but the kind of hug I don’t think he would have given her if she’d been married.
And that’s when I realized they used to date, and that, even worse, this asshole still fancied my mom.
JESSICA
Uh, so David Millar is still really hot, which caused a minor problem in my body for a moment, but my brain was able to get it together. I simply wasn’t prepared for him to look so attractive. Mind you, if I were being honest, I would point out that I had dressed as nicely as I could under the circumstances—the circumstances being two decades having passed since the last time he saw me naked—and that it was shamefully satisfying to see his eyes widen when he saw me. I’m so shallow.
All this went over Emily’s head, thankfully, and she was being charming and chatty, which is my favorite kind of Emily. I don’t want to be the kind of person who beams proudly at the achievements of their kids, as if the parent had more than a passing influence, but it is very nice when your kid is being the polite version of herself in public. Again, so shallow.
I did that thing where you gaze around for the waiter to buy yourself time, while Emily and David got to know each other a bit.
“So,” asked David, “you’re touring colleges?” I glanced at his hands where they lay on the table, and tried to cool down. Since when did my libido get so independent?
“Yes,” said Emily, “we’re going up the East Coast looking at eleven different schools, it’s a bit nuts.”
“Sounds fun.�
� His hands were still gorgeous, still strong, still . . . wait, no ring.
“Kind of.”
“Only kind of?” He had definitely been married. No question.
Emily shrugged. “Well, it’s kind of speed dating, for a start, it’s not like you really get any more than a first impression. And I’m not really sure what I want to study.”
“You’ll find something,” I said, unable to stop myself from chiming in. “College is fun, isn’t it, David?” I had been so certain he was married; if he was single, that was a whole other problem. Married, it was a problem of damn it, you’re still hot and there’s nothing I can do about it, oh well. Unmarried, it was a different thing. Not that he had shown any interest in me.
He smiled at me. “Sure, if you meet a supersexy girl on the first day of class.”
Scratch that. Definitely interested. I looked at Emily. “He’s joking. It’s good whoever you meet. You meet lots of people, not all of them are sexy. Some are, some aren’t. But they’re all interesting, and you meet lots of them.” That didn’t come out right.
Emily raised her eyebrows very slightly. “So, you meet people at college, that’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know,” she said, clearly deciding I was losing my mind. “I’ll make a note.”
The waiter came over to take drink orders.
“I’ll get another scotch,” said David, which was when I noticed he was finishing up a pretty substantial drink. I ordered a glass of wine and a Sprite for Emily, and hoped he wasn’t too drunk. He’d always enjoyed a drink.
“So,” said Emily, “what was my mom like in college?”
“Oh god,” I said, “can we not do this?” Please don’t mention . . . oh, so many things.
David smiled at me. “She was not what she appeared to be.”
Emily said, “How do you mean?”
“Just that. She seemed one way, she turned out to be another. She was very self-assured, very disinterested, very cool. She was unexpected and delightful.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, you two dated.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “You did, didn’t you?”
David frowned. “She didn’t tell you?”
I blushed. “I didn’t think she’d be interested.” I glanced at Emily, willing her to drop it. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It was a big deal to me,” said David. “She was one of the most beautiful women I ever took to bed.” He looked at me. “She still is.”
Oh my god. Suddenly the attraction I felt for him began to fade. It was fun when it was hypothetical, or even simply one sided, but now I frowned. “David, Emily doesn’t want to hear about this.”
“Wait, maybe I do,” said Emily, although her face was difficult to read.
David looked at me for a moment, then said, “So, Emily, do you want to be a lawyer like your mom?”
“Absolutely not,” my daughter replied firmly. “She works too much. And I’ve heard her on the phone, it sounds stressful.” She took a sip of her Sprite. “Are you a lawyer, too?”
“I was,” he replied. He’d been a very successful lawyer; I’d read about it in the alumni newsletter. It hadn’t mentioned the divorce, or the continued incredible hotness. Alumni newsletters aren’t really exhaustive, to be fair.
“You quit?” I asked.
He nodded. “After my divorce I kind of stepped back a bit, do you know what I mean?”
I didn’t, yet, but said, “Sure,” to be supportive.
“I realized I’d been busting my hump for twenty years to get somewhere I no longer wanted to go.” His eyes were serious, and I wanted to nod thoughtfully but kept remembering things we’d done in bed. I reached for my wine.
Emily spoke. “Where did you want to go?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. So I quit the job and spent a year in the Peace Corps.”
“You are joking,” I said, stunned. This guy had been good in bed, sure, but he had also been insanely good at law, graduating at the top of the class despite that early C, clerking for a top-tier federal circuit judge, golden ticket all the way.
David laughed. “Nope, not joking. It was great, you should try it. It really cleared my head.”
I shook my head. “Not until she’s safely through college,” I said. “Then I can cut loose.”
Emily frowned at me. “You could do it now. I wouldn’t care.”
I laughed. “You would when you couldn’t afford college.” Let’s pretend I didn’t just put that at risk.
She started to say something else, but David spoke again. “Emily, you should consider traveling before college, if you can. It’s very . . . clarifying.”
“I’d love that,” she said, “but I don’t even know where I would go. What do you do now, then, if you’re not a lawyer?”
“I run a nonprofit. We connect really great lawyers with people in trouble. The clients get the best lawyers in the city, and the lawyers get to feel less guilty about their success.” He laughed. “It’s really fun to see a Harvard Law School graduate walking into court for a battered wife who’s trying to protect her kids.” He shrugged. “As I’m sure your mom has told you, the law was written by and designed for the benefit of rich white men. I’m trying to balance it up.”
“She never talks about her work,” said Emily.
I gazed at her. “I talk about it all the time.”
“You do?” She shrugged. “I guess I’m not listening.”
There was an awkward pause, and David changed the subject. “Did you know Amanda and Robert got married?”
I nodded. This was conversation I could handle. “Yeah, we’re seeing them in New York. We stayed in touch.”
“Really in touch, or Facebook in touch?”
“Really. Amanda is Emily’s godmother, actually.”
The waiter brought David’s drink, and he took a healthy swig of scotch. I sipped my wine and checked my watch. Half an hour until we could politely escape.
“So,” said Emily, putting her elbows on the table. “Do you have kids? What did they think about you disappearing for a year?”
David matched her posture and smiled. “Yes, and I’m not sure they even noticed. My kids are slightly younger than you, but not much. Thirteen and eleven.” More scotch. “I don’t have to think about college yet, thank goodness. The older one wants to be a professional video game player, which is apparently a thing now, and the younger one wants to be a vet, like most young kids at some point.”
“I never wanted to be a vet,” replied Emily. “We had a dog when I was little, but I never really got the animal bug.”
“Really?” David looked surprised and turned to me. “I thought you were such a dog lover? Remember Peanut?”
“Who’s Peanut?” asked Emily.
“A dog your mom had in college. She found him behind the lab building, eating trash, and adopted him.” He paused. “The dog was eating trash, not your mom.”
Emily turned to me. “You like dogs?”
I nodded. “I love them. I didn’t have Peanut for very long, though. He went to stay with your grandparents because you weren’t allowed dogs in the dorms, and by the time I was off campus, your grandma refused to give him back.”
“Why didn’t I know that?”
I shrugged. “You’re allergic to animal dander, remember?”
“Bummer,” said David. “And you never married?” He looked pointedly at me. “How is that possible? A gorgeous woman like you shouldn’t be single.” He narrowed his eyes in what he clearly thought was a sexy manner. “Maybe you like a lot of variety in the bedroom. You were always pretty . . . open minded.”
I couldn’t look at Emily, and simply smiled at the table, trying to pretend he hadn’t said that. Hello, idiot, my teenage daughter is right there. “I’m too busy. Too busy having
a small child, then too busy working. I’ve dated from time to time, but nothing serious.” I wasn’t even going to go near the bedroom comment; I was going to pretend it was never said at all.
Emily said, “She dated some real losers.”
“Thanks, Em.”
“Tell me about them,” said David, reaching for his glass.
“No, don’t,” I said, meaning it.
Miraculously, she dropped it and pushed her chair back. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room.”
EMILY
I was so steamed right then. I called Ruby from the bathroom.
“Hey, bitch,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Hey,” I said, half whispering. “I’m stuck in a bar with a friend of my mom’s and he’s totally trying to get into her pants.”
“Ew, that’s gross,” she said. “Like, how?”
“Telling her she’s hot and staring at her, it’s repulsive.”
“Is she into it?” She laughed. “Maybe you’re cockblocking her and should leave them to it.”
“No,” I said, “that is not happening.”
“I’m sure your mom can handle herself. Isn’t she, like, fifty?”
“She’s forty-five.”
“Same difference. Besides, Jessica Burnstein is a bad MF, right? My dad said she’s a ballbuster.”
“Ew, also gross. But true story.”
I hung up and peed, and washed my hands, because I’ve been properly raised. Then I took a deep breath and headed back to the table.
As I got closer, I saw the guy was holding Mom’s hands, but then she pulled them away. He reached out for them again, and that time he didn’t let go, and that, I’m afraid to say, is when things got a bit awkward.