Lauren Takes Leave

by Gerstenblatt, Julie

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I could bore you with the details of how I managed to sneak out of my house at 5:30 a.m. that Thursday morning, deceiving the Hadley School District, my husband, my children, and my babysitter, among others. Lawyers could postulate an in-depth analysis about how I felt about it all. A psychiatrist could lecture to you about women and their midlife crises, the way completely respectable, law-abiding citizens could just turn all Thelma and Louise at the mere mention of Botox.

  But I’ve been a juror, remember, and I know that your time is precious.

  So, I’ll just tell you that, in the movie version of my life, the Clash’s “Should I Stay or Should I Go” would be playing as I entered my dark and sleepy suburban split-level home at approximately 11:22 p.m. on Wednesday evening, having just finished making the call to Jodi. That one call that turned her from a mere witness to an actual accomplice, I guess you could say. But that’s for another jury to decide down the hall, and so I will not speculate.

  Instead, I will admit that I packed a small carry-on as best I could in the darkness. And although I could not locate my favorite beach cover-up anywhere, I eventually went to bed. I awoke and dressed in the blue-gray morning fog, left a note on the kitchen counter next to my car keys, and slid out the front door to await Kat’s arrival in my driveway.

  You see, once the decision to bolt was made, everything just fell into place. The old Lauren, the me from the time before jury duty, would have kept ongoing lists on her iPhone of the pros and cons of such an adventure, had she even entertained the thought at all. She may have surfed the web in the school library, searching for online support groups for teachers on the verge. She would have asked other people’s opinions, stopping coworkers in the faculty lounge to ask if they had ever taken leave of their senses. When did they do it, and for how long? What were the consequences?

  But here’s the funny thing about taking leave: you just do it. All the thinking and planning and worrying and wondering grabs its wings and takes flight. And you know what? Watching all of that day-to-day sameness fly right out the window?

  It feels really fucking good.

  Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I would prefer to admit that I feel some remorse.

  I regret to say that I do not.

  I would like to say that I have reflected on, and learned a great deal from, all that has occurred.

  I regret to say that I have not.

  And so, without further ado, I shall submit into evidence an accounting of the rest of my week.

  Or what I recall of it.

  And, Your Honor, I would just like to mention here that all songs from the soundtrack of my life that week are listed on my Facebook page and are available for purchase through iTunes. Enjoy!

  Chapter 15

  Thursday

  “I have a surprise for you,” I say with a smile, getting into Kat’s Mini Cooper and throwing my luggage in the backseat.

  “Jodi called. She’s running late.” Kat glances over at me. “Was that your surprise?”

  “Yes! Why’d she call you? I told her it would be more fun if she just showed up at the gate, ready to go. I thought you’d love it.”

  “She said she didn’t want to wake anyone in your house with a call. She probably texted you or something.”

  I check my phone and see that she has. Then I reach into my bag and pull out a CD case.

  “New mix?” Kat asks.

  “Miami mix, baby!” I pop it in and ’80s music fills the small space. “You know how I love the mixes!”

  With little traffic so early in the morning, we make it to Kennedy airport in no time, park the car, and get our boarding passes. Jodi calls Kat to say she’s at the airport and is parking Lee’s car. He would have been suspicious if she said she was taking a cab, so she insisted on driving herself, to fit best with the dying-grandmother story.

  A few minutes later, Jodi enters the terminal looking like a famous person who is trying hard to be nonchalant. She’s wearing a wide-brimmed, white sun hat and enormous black Gucci sunglasses. She’s got layers of gauzy material wrapped around her delicate frame. Gladiator sandals wind their way up her ankles.

  “She’s gonna have to check that.” Kat motions to her huge suitcase. “Who brings that much stuff for two days?”

  “It’s shoes and bras, mostly, I can tell you from experience.”

  “Bras?”

  “Yes. Apparently, there are different kinds for every outfit. Racerback, push-up, push-up racerback, strapless underwire…there’s quite an education to be had, traveling with Jodi.”

  “It’s like last night all over again,” Kat jokes. “By the way, I have a little bit of a headache. You?”

  “Not too bad. I bet Leslie’s feeling it hard, though.”

  “Should I make a lame joke about ‘hard’ or no?”

  I give Kat a look just as Jodi gets to us.

  “Hi-yyy!” She kisses us each on both cheeks with a “mwah!” sound. “Why aren’t you guys dressed up? We’re going on vacation!”

  “Because airplanes are cold,” I say.

  “Because I don’t own shit like that,” Kat adds.

  We wait while Jodi checks her luggage and then we head through security.

  Jodi is busy unraveling the laces on her gladiator sandals, so Kat and I take turns going through the metal detector, waiting for her on the other side.

  “Excuse me? Ma’am?” a security officer calls. I don’t look up from where I am retying my sneakers until he says it again, this time in my ear. “Ma’am.”

  “Uh, y-yes?” I stammer, looking to see if he’s confusing me for someone else.

  “Come with me, please.” I glance at Kat, who shrugs. Then the officer motions toward her. “You, too.”

  “Jodi!” I call. “We’re being examined.”

  She removes her sunglasses and watches with wide eyes as Kat and I are led into a privacy cubicle off to the side.

  “Let’s hope there’s a cavity search,” Kat remarks. “That would be a fun way to start the trip.”

  The officer hears Kat’s comment but does not smile. “Ladies, sit, please.”

  From a gray plastic tray, he removes and holds up two items. One is a pair of handcuffs trimmed in pink fur. The other is a tube of lipstick. He waits.

  I’d know that lipstick anywhere.

  And it ain’t lipstick.

  “Kat!” I proclaim in mock horror. “You actually bought that from Candy Cox?”

  “What?” she asks, looking to me, then to the items. “No!” she exclaims, realizing what I mean. “Officer…I have no idea where those things came from—”

  “Well, I do,” he says, cutting her off. “These here,” he says, shaking the handcuffs, “were in the blonde’s pocketbook.”

  “I—”

  “And this interesting device,” he says, holding out the mini-vibrator, “was in the bag belonging to…Kat, is it?”

  “Ugh!” she groans. “Leslie!”

  “What?” I ask. “Her dad’s that top lawyer, is that what you mean? That we should call Leslie for legal counsel?”

  “No!” Kat muses, a small smile playing on her lips. “Leslie gave us this shit as party favors last night! That’s why they were in our bags.”

  “Ohhhh!” I exhale. “That’s funny,” I decide, and we start cracking up. Kat is laughing so hard that tears roll down her cheeks.

  “Fucking crazy bitch!” she says fondly, recalling Leslie from last night.

  “Um, ladies. I don’t think you understand. This is a serious matter. A matter of national security.”

  This has us laughing even harder. “Yeah, I’m a regular bin Laden!” she cackles. “Taking down democracy with my lipstick vibrator!”

  “Locking up freedom with these plush, Playboy Bunny handcuffs…that don’t even lock!” I add for good measure. “My metal nail file is more menacing!”

  “Hello!” Jodi calls, her hat visible just above the rim of our cubicle. “I’m going to Miami with or without you
two losers, just so you know. See you at the gate.”

  “Maybe!” I joke, still trying to catch my breath.

  “Please, officer,” Kat says benevolently. “For your significant other, gifts from Lady Hoochie. Now, if you don’t mind releasing us, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

  The announcement tells us to fasten our seatbelts, secure all items under the seat in front of us, and turn off all electronic devices until the captain tells us it’s safe to power on again. Kat puts headphones into her iPod and slips one ear bud under her hair, concealed from any Gestapo-like stewardesses. Jodi passes out gum and opens her bible, People magazine. She runs her hands lovingly over the glossy pages and begins to read.

  The plane creeps along the runway. The captain tells us that we are now next in line for takeoff and reminds us to turn off all electronics until we reach our climbing altitude. This is Kat’s signal to hide the ear bud once more.

  I check my e-mail before shutting off my phone, finding three correspondences of note. The first is from Doug.

  Subject: Jury Sequestering

  From: dworthing@corporatebranding.com

  Date: April 13

  To: laurenworthing@gmail.com

  Hi Lauren. Saw your note when I woke up. Can’t believe the judge called you so early this morning and demanded that your jury be sequestered. Immediately! That seems a bit extreme for a civil case like that, with low-profile clients and all. Unless it’s more than you were letting on? I know that, as per your instructions, you can’t tell me anything now, but if you are allowed time to call and check in today, please do.

  I’m sorry that we haven’t had time to connect. Sorry, too, that you are tangled up in this case, cut off from your life. I know you don’t always love your job, but I bet you wish you were back in school right now. Ha.

  Thanks for taking a cab to the courthouse and leaving us with your minivan and the car seats. I will make sure that Laney does some grocery shopping today while the kids are in school and that she takes Ben to Little League tonight.

  By the way, do you have the number for Becca’s friend Ainsley? She says she has a playdate with her but it’s not on your calendar. Oh, right, you can’t call me. I’ll find it somewhere.

  I know jury duty sucks. But maybe they’ll settle early or something? So you can come home and tell me what the kids like to eat for lunch? Ha again. Not panicking too much here…just the right amount, I think.

  —D

  Oh, I’m so ashamed of myself.

  Sort of.

  He bought the story! And now he’s got no choice but to be an active parent! Sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. Doug has to work late and cancel our romantic dinner? Fine. Understood. Things happen. Just like I’ve got to have my pretend jury sequestered and lie my way to sunshine.

  Luckily, I already lined up Jackie to babysit tonight (Laney’s not a fan of overtime), otherwise this little getaway really might not have been possible.

  The second e-mail comes from Dara, the secretary in the main office at Hadley Middle School. She’s asking for paperwork confirming my prolonged absence due to jury duty. She’s asking that I drop it by. Today. At my earliest convenience.

  Okay, now that one has me a bit rattled. I send off a quick reply, my fingers nervously striking the letters on my phone. I’m hoping that once she learns of my sequestration, she’ll get off my back.

  Although, now that I’ve sent a response, I’m not sure jurors are allowed to have their cell phones when sequestered.

  Maybe she won’t think of that.

  The third e-mail is self-explanatory.

  Subject: Re: Hi

  From: lkatzenberg@yale.alumni.edu

  Date: April 13

  To: laurenworthing@gmail.com

  You are a baaaaad girl, Mrs. Worthing. Skipping school, lying to your husband, getting Botox, going to Boston for the day. You’re much more fun than I ever remembered you being in high school. Middle age really agrees with you.

  So, what’s it going to be today? How about visiting another old friend?

  Subject: Re: Re: Hi

  From: laurenworthing@gmail.com

  Date: April 13

  To: lkatzenberg@yale.alumni.edu

  Can’t today, old friend. Am on my way to Miami. ;)

  I hit “send” and power off just as the plane accelerates. Kat grabs my hand and I grab Jodi’s on the other side. I close my eyes as we take off, hope and fear churning together in the hollow of my stomach.

  “Christ, Lauren,” Kat swears as we wait for Jodi’s bag to come around the carousel at the Miami International Airport. “Could you get off that thing? You’re like iDicted to your iPhone.”

  “I’m just checking my messages,” I say. “But that’s pretty good, actually. I’m gonna use that line. iDicted.”

  The balmy, sweet-smelling air of southern Florida envelops us as we exit the terminal and hail a cab.

  “This is amazing!” Jodi cheers. “I love you guys! I love us!” We tell the driver where we’re headed and sit back in the cab, rolling down the windows and admiring the palm trees. Jodi begins unwrapping herself like a mummy, letting go layer upon layer of cotton, until all that’s left is a bandeau top and miniskirt.

  “How did you do that?” Kat demands. “How the fuck does she do that?” she reiterates, turning to me.

  “It’s a gift,” Jodi concedes.

  “So, are you going to visit your grandma?” I ask Jodi.

  “Are you kidding me?” she says. “Of course I’m not!”

  “But…why not? She only lives a few miles from the hotel, I thought.”

  “Yeah, and she has dementia and won’t know if I’m there or not. If anyone in my family asks her, ‘Oh, how was your visit from Jodi?’ she’ll probably say, ‘Jodi? Who’s Jodi?’ So, why waste the time? I’ll send a basket of oranges with a card.”

  “A demented grandmother as an alibi. I love it.” Kat nods approvingly.

  I try to finish replying to Lenny’s e-mail without them noticing, which of course fails miserably. He suggests that we stay at the Delano, but I tell him we already made reservations.

  “You love him,” Jodi teases. “He’s your pretend boyfriend.”

  I smile and ignore them, finishing my e-mail and putting the phone away.

  “It’s not funny, you know,” Kat says. “Adultery.”

  I think of Kat crouched on a stool in her classroom closet, wasting her money on calls to a psychic hotline, her husband running off. “You’re right,” I say, taking her hand. “It’s not funny at all. I’m an insensitive jerk to flirt with Lenny, after all you’ve gone through.”

  “Me?” Kat asks. “I don’t care about you flirting in front of me. I mean because of Doug.”

  She has a point.

  I haven’t given much thought to that aspect of my flirtationship.

  “But, you can’t think of your husband if you’re, like, fantasizing about some other guy,” Jodi explains, like it’s simple math. “That’s just a buzzkill.” She readjusts her bandeau top. “Anyway, it seems completely harmless. As my grandmother always says, ‘There’s nothing wrong with looking, as long as you don’t touch the merchandise.’”

  “Yeah,” I say, “but she’s delusional!”

  “Just don’t touch, Lauren,” Jodi reiterates.

  “All the thrills without the chills?” Kat jokes.

  “Story of my life,” Jodi says cryptically, as the cab pulls up in front of our hotel.

  Chapter 16

  We quickly check in, change, and head down to the cerulean water, edged with sand the color of a light suntan. We walk as far as we can from the more crowded part of the beach and choose a nice, secluded spot. An attendant sets up three lounge chairs facing the sun and orders some lunch for us. Jodi gets a margarita, the thought of which makes both Kat and me queasy. “Tonight we’ll join you,” I promise her. “We require a few more hours of detox first, though.”

  It’s only 12:30 p.m., and we’re sitting
by the aquamarine ocean. I close my eyes and listen to the soft surf, the seagulls overhead, and my own shallow breathing. “I can’t believe we did this! I am chillaxing!” I declare.

  “Mmm,” Jodi concurs, flipping through the pages of yet another tabloid magazine. Her BlackBerry buzzes and we all jump. She picks it up from the plastic side table and examines the message. “You’ve got to be kidding me! An ‘emergency’ text from the PTA. Urgent committee chair meeting today at two o’clock, regarding T-shirt sales.” She flings the device into her bag with disgust. “I am on vacation, people, now leave me alone!”

  “Damn straight,” Kat adds. “I’m going to sleep.”

  After lunch, I end up reading Jodi’s tabloids and then pass out in the sun for most of the afternoon.

  I wake up to the sound of Kat thumbing away at her BlackBerry. At first, I think I’m still back with her behind the bushes outside Leslie’s neighbor’s house. Then I see the sun hanging low in the sky just behind a palm tree and remember where I really am.

  A sudden memory of the horrors of the night before flashes across my frontal cortex and I groan.

  “Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” Jodi sings. “Nice bruise you got there on your knee.”

  I look down to see that the toilet incident in Leslie’s lav did in fact leave a colorful memento.

  “How’d you get that?” Kat asks, looking up from her keypad.

  “Oh, you know, this and that,” I say.

  “I can’t believe you guys are cutting school!” Jodi says. “This is just like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” We then spend several minutes debriefing about how we left things at school, with Kat filling Jodi in on her more-than-slight problem with the diministration and Psycho Mom. I ask their opinion about Martha and how I think she’s onto me.

  “Classic paranoia,” Jodi dismisses. “No one cares about you nearly as much as you do; I’ve learned that the hard way. Not even your lover boy, MC Little Douche Bag or whatever his name is.”

  “MC Lenny Katzenberg,” I clarify. “And I bet he has been thinking about me. I probably received a few playfully naughty texts from him while I was sleeping.”