Up & Out (24 page)

I
work nonstop for two weeks on the ideas. Ben’s schedule is such that we can sleep in together and then when he goes to work, I go for a run and spend the rest of the evening coming up with concepts. I get myself on kind of a weird schedule completely opposite from Tommy’s. I leave to meet Ben at the bar before Tommy gets back.

Everything with Ben seems to have happened so easy and naturally. Yes, it happened fast, but sleeping with him was as familiar and natural as everything else about him. In short, really really good. Maybe I shouldn’t be too into this, but when I catch myself holding back with someone like Ben, I wonder why I’m fighting it. So I think I’m just going to go with it and not question what my intuition tells me is right.

I sleep at Ben’s when I can because Nancy stays over a lot. I don’t see her very much, but I know she has dabbled in a few of my bathroom products. I think this is very uncool. But I don’t make an issue of it.

When I first start brainstorming I can’t shake the feeling that I am cheating on Esme. She lived inside me for so long and all
of a sudden, there’s a Kim and a Robin and a Kelly. Each girl has her own story and I have to move away from the way Esme spoke and thought. It takes me a while to get used to this, but then I decide I can’t censor myself, and I jot down everything that comes to me—which is a lot. I write up paragraphs on about ten ideas, but full pages on those three.

With her wedding only a month away, Kathy constantly calls with new requests. Because I am not really employed I am the person she asks to do the most favors. I never dreamed I would be picking up her dyed shoes or helping her count invites, but somehow I get roped into it all.

Every time I try to bring up how upset she was the day before we went to the movies in the park, she changes the subject. I have a feeling that she wishes she’d never told me and wants me to forget her moment of weakness. I don’t bother bringing it up anymore. If she chooses to be the bride who doesn’t deal with her issues, who am I to stop her?

“Brides get self-centered as it gets closer to the wedding,” Lauryn says. She has another couple of weeks before she moves to Boston and starts school. She has been having a lot of sex with the coed we met at the bar. It’s more fulfilling now because he’s looking her in the eye, she says.

“I just wish it would be more evenly dispensed,” I say, about my status as a wedding slave.

“Well, Beth is MIA, and would you want to deal with Kathy’s sister?”

“You’ve got a point.”

“I object to having to dye my shoes, I have to admit,” Lauryn says.

“We are never going to wear the dresses again, and now we have to ruin a perfectly good pair of shoes with a color that doesn’t exist in nature.”

“Did somebody say ‘waste of time and money’?”

“I did,” I say, laughing. “I also said nothing on the registry for under sixty bucks.”

“Yeah, I snatched up the last thing under, which was fifty-dollar swizzle sticks. A set of six.”

“You better make damn sure that they feed you mixed drinks when you go over there.”

“I intend to.”

Jordan was not invited to Kathy’s wedding, but Lauryn told me that she agreed to have coffee with him again when she comes down for the wedding.

Tommy eventually asked me if I’d mind if he took Nancy to the wedding. It was one of the rare times we were alone in our apartment together. I was kind of surprised that he was around without Nancy and wondered if the only reason was to ask me this question. I know the answer he wanted to hear was no, but I was so surprised by the question that I just kind of shrugged.

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” he said. I know I have no legitimate reason to stop him. Why should he have a bad time? On the other hand, why does he have to bring her around our friends? “I just expected you were going to bring that guy.”

“Ben,” I said angrily. “Can you at least remember his name?”

“Yeah, Ben. Aren’t you going to bring him?”

“I don’t know yet.” I really liked Ben and knew I should bring him, but I worried that he was going to be bored with me performing all my bridesmaid duties (and there were already a ton I had to do). I know it was wrong and selfish, but why was Tommy allowed to have fun with Nanny Nancy when I was going to be forced to prance around in uncomfortable dyed shoes catering to Kathy’s weird belle-of-the-ball fantasies?

“Well, let me know when you decide,” he said. He stared at me for a minute and then turned and left the apartment.

I knew I was acting foolish, but I couldn’t help it. Once again, it seemed like I had no idea how to be broken up with Tommy. Even though I was so happy with Ben, I guess I couldn’t help being upset that Tommy didn’t care as much about me. It was scary to think that after all the drama and the back and forth, we were getting to a place where we were finally going to have to let go. This guy shaped so much of my adult life, and now he just wasn’t going to be there. Don’t get
me wrong, I didn’t want to get back with him, that’s for sure. I just didn’t know if I wanted
him
not to want to get back with me.

Tonight, after my talk with Tommy, I talked to Ben about it over a beer at the bar. They have finally decided on a name for the pub. It’s to be called Knuckle Sandwich. The bar staff gets a huge kick out of this name and say it whenever possible.

I always hesitate about bringing up Tommy to Ben. I don’t want to make Tommy out to be an asshole and I don’t want to make Ben jealous. As usual, Ben listens to me very carefully before answering me.

“The way I see it, Rebecca, you just have to negotiate your new relationship with Tommy. I know that’s not easy, but he’s a big part of your life, it seems.” He takes a sip of his beer and then leans over and kisses me. “I bet he feels the same way you do. Maybe you should address that. I think you want to keep him in your life. I certainly want to meet him.”

“You’re neat,” I say. Every time I see Ben I like him more. “I think it’s terrific that you can talk about this with me without being jealous.”

“How can I be jealous,” he says, leaning over and kissing me again, “when I know you’re crazy about me?”

“Where do you come from?” I still can’t believe it is this easy to be with someone I am so attracted to. I am almost certain that no other shoe is going to drop.

“New Hampshire.”

“Right, so do you even want to come to this wedding?”

“Well, the chance to see you in the dress you describe with such graphic distaste is appealing, but it’s not like I enjoy getting all dressed up in an uncomfortable suit.”

“So, you don’t want to go.” He laughs and shakes his head. Will brings us two more beers.

“I didn’t say that. Of course I want to meet all your friends and be there for you, if that’s what you want. I think you have to make this decision, Rebecca.”

I knew he was right, but I wished he would just tell me what to do.

Don and I meet to go over my concepts at Wild Lily Tea House. It’s a funky little place that Ben took me to for our first official date. I think the tranquility will offset any tension I feel about having a business meeting. I make sure we get the table where we kneel beside the small fish pond at the front of the restaurant.

I busy myself maneuvering the green-tea-marinated slices of chicken with the dainty wooden chopsticks and try not to worry about what Don is thinking of all my ideas. He keeps making little “hmph” noises as he flips through the pages. I don’t know if that means that he likes my ideas or he is wondering if there is any way for me to pay back the money he advanced me. Just when I think he’s done reading, he flips back through the pages and starts making notes with a pen. He is completely neglecting his pretty little salad. I consider reaching over and snagging one of the sugared walnuts on top. He looks up at me and smiles.

“Well,” I say, locking my jaw together afterward.

“I think it’s interesting that you chose these three to highlight,” he says, holding up the one-sheets I did.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Great. “I think this one is too much like Esme.”

“Oh,” I sigh, and shake my head.

“No, but that’s really the only one I have an issue with. I think the space and underwater ideas are very promising. I feel like they would have to be animated, because the cost to do it live action would be sky-high. So work that out, think about scaling some ideas back for the space one in case we pitch it to a network that isn’t comfortable with animation.”

Don has lost the slick producer voice and is talking like he really wants to work on developing these. He looks back at the pile of papers and picks one of them up. He pats it a few times and looks up at me.

“This, this is really a good one. You’re calling her Kim, but
I think you should switch the names with the Robin you are using in the underwater one. A kids’ cooking show. How perfect! We’ll pitch it to all those lifestyle channels and kids’ TV. And we can skew the adult supervision you mention here, depending on who we are going for. You’re brilliant!” He takes a giant bite of his salad.

“Thank you,” I say. “Why do you want me to change the characters?”

“Well, I like how you’ve given your young cook braces. I see lots of funny eating shots, spaghetti getting stuck in braces, metal fork to metal brackets—” he is talking really fast now, like his juices are flowing and he can’t stop shoveling greens into his mouth “—I think we need to call it
Robin’s Recipes
or something.”

“Well, do you think we have to do alliteration? Isn’t that old?” It’s not easy to say this to the man who developed
Gus and the Gopher, Bob in the Barn
and
Amy’s Animal Adventures.
He cocks his head and smirks at me like he has never heard anything so ridiculous. I fear that this could be the deal breaker.

“Rebecca, we want to be cutting edge, but there are some rules we can’t break. It’s either alliteration or rhyme. I don’t know, maybe you can play with kitchen—
Gretchen’s Kitchen.
”

“I see,” I say, and eat my last bite of chicken. I obviously still have a lot to learn about kids’ TV.

I didn’t get to go for a run this morning. It’s probably for the best since the race is this weekend and I want to conserve my energy. I walk up along the river to get back home. When I turn down my block I see that Beth is sitting on our stoop smoking a cigarette. I haven’t been alone with her in a while and I start to feel nervous. She doesn’t look up at me as I head down the street, giving me a chance to study her. She looks thin, and even though she is dressed really well, her hair is kind of a mess. She looks like she hasn’t changed since last night.

“Hey,” I say, startling her when I get to the building. She jumps up a little and turns to me. She has sunglasses on and I wish I could see her eyes.

“Hi,” she says. She looks as antsy as I feel. “I was looking for my brother. Do you know if he’s home?”

“I don’t think so,” I say. I look at the door as if it knows the answer. “Did you try the bell?”

She nods. I know that there is something wrong with her, but I just don’t think she will tell me. I try, anyway.

“Are you all right?” She nods.

“Do you want to come upstairs and wait for him?” She shakes her head. Above her glasses I see her eyebrows knit a little. She sighs.

“You’re sure you’re all right? You can talk to me.” She doesn’t do anything, but then she shakes her head and takes a big breath. I know she doesn’t want to talk to me about whatever it is. I’m not even sure she would talk to Tommy.

“Do you want a hug?” I ask. It’s a last resort. Instead of shaking or nodding her head, she stands there still until I put my arms around her.

“Thanks,” she says, pulling away. “Sorry.”

“No problem. Sometimes we all need a hug. Did you have a rough night?”

“No, I should go.” She starts to get flustered.

“Wait, listen, let’s go over to Film Center Café and get a drink.”

I see her internally debate, and then she agrees and we walk over to Ninth Avenue to the café. She seems kind of shaky and nervous, but I’m happy to actually have her with me.

We order drinks and she barely touches hers. She doesn’t remove her sunglasses. I keep the conversation light—I basically babble about nothing—but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“I think I need to stop partying so much,” she says finally. I wait to let her finish. I could lay it out on the table and lecture her on sleeping with people’s exes and partying too much, but she looks defeated. “I think—I think I’m having trouble with all this.”

Her lip shakes a little. I feel myself starting to get emotional, too. She is in some kind of pain I just don’t get. More than knowing why and demanding an explanation, I just want to listen and be here.

“I, uh, don’t know these days what’s going on with me, you know. I can’t make heads or tails of anything I do.”

“I know how you feel,” I say. “Things get pretty confusing these days.”

“Yeah.” She studies one of her nails.

“You know, I read about this,” I say. “It’s called the quarter-life crisis. It’s not uncommon for women our age to feel this way.”

When she smirks at me I realize that I sound like I’m giving a lecture. “Oh, really, Rebecca, where did you read about this?”

I’m already laughing when I say, “The
New York Times
Sunday Styles section.” And she laughs, too. The kind of laugh you have when you are very close to crying, the kind of laugh you have when there is nothing else to do.

Nancy is over when I get up in the morning. She is wearing sneakers and running clothes. I was hoping to talk to Tommy about Beth. Nancy is bright and cheerful, as usual.

“What are you up to?” Her blond hair is pulled into a perfect ponytail. I push a strand of my unruly hair behind my ear.

“I was going to run in the Race for the Park. Are you?” I was certain Tommy had forgotten about the bet the night we went to Half King.

“Yeah, we are.” Are human voices really this high and chirpy? Tommy comes out of the bathroom. He looks very fit in his T-shirt and shorts. “Tom, isn’t it great? Rebecca is going to run the race, too.”