Up & Out (25 page)

“I know,” he says, and smiles at me and points at Nancy. “She is totally forcing me to do it.”

He
has
forgotten. He is just doing it for her.

“Tom, don’t tease.” Clearly this is someone who spends too much time with toddlers. “Now we can all go together.”

“Actually, I have to leave now. I told Kathy and Janice I was going to meet up with them beforehand for a bagel.” Nancy looks crushed and I feel bad, but running this race is going to be torturous enough. I just don’t think I can stand to watch them coo over each other on the subway. I hastily make my exit.

“You need to carbo-load for energy,” Kathy advises. We are waiting for Janice and John in the bagel store near the park. It is so brutally hot out that we need an air conditioner. Kathy has just finished complaining to me about the bridal shop where all of our hideous bridesmaid dresses have been held hostage for more money than was agreed to. Kathy managed to liberate them with the help of the contract and Jill, who works in the legal department of Kathy’s office and knows enough of the language to intimidate. Now we are having our fitting somewhere in Chelsea. The final fitting is next week and I am expected to be there in spite of the plans I made to go to Block Island with Ben. Lauryn is also being summoned from the Vineyard, even though she was planning on moving to Boston.

I am in no mood to be trifled with today. Kathy talked me into running in this stupid race and I’m certain Nancy and Tommy are going to be waiting way before me at the finish line, holding hands. After six miles I am going to stink. I’ve gotten myself into all of this because I don’t stand up to Kathy. Well, I am about to give her a piece of my mind. In fact, I am about to get a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich and say “fuck off” to this whole running thing. I was not meant to run for anything. Who was I kidding? The winter is coming—I need fat to insulate me.

Lucky for Kathy, Janice shows up at the very moment I am about to bring forth my rage. John is in tow and he looks even more miserable than I do.

“It’s hotter than hell and she gets me up to run,” he whispers to me.

“You’d be ready if you’d trained,” Janice says. “Look at Rebecca. She trained. She’s ready.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Real ready.”

“Come on, Rebecca,” Kathy says. “It’s for your own good. Look how great you look. You’re going to be beautiful at the wedding.”

I want blood, but I must channel it into the race I am obviously helpless to get out of. I would rather not have Nanny Nancy learn that I chickened out.

“Way to go dissing Hackett,” Janice says.

“You’re everyone’s hero,” John says. If nothing else, that motivates me.

After chowing down our bagels we are waiting at the starting line for the signal. According to John you can’t just have a race in the city for the hell of it. He thinks it has to be for something and there have to be a ton of speakers telling you how wonderful you are for giving your money and energy to whatever charity you are running for. In this case, I collected money from Ben and the people at the bar to help the parks, but I don’t need to hear how thankful the city is. I am anxious to start.

“I would like to just get on with it,” John whispers to me.

“Tell me about it.”

“We could ditch and go to a bar,” he says. I am ready to agree because through the crowd I spot Tommy’s head and below it Nancy’s ponytail.

“Shut up,” Janice says to John. Then she kisses his hand.

“Hey, isn’t that Tommy? You didn’t tell me he was doing this,” Kathy says. Before I can say anything, she starts to wave and yell. Jesus. “Tommy! Hey, Tommy!”

Of course, Tommy turns and waves. Nancy turns, too, and, seeing me, smiles and brings Tommy over. She is completely psyched to run into me.

“Hey, Rebecca,” she says, her smile making me feel even more guilty. “I’m so glad we ran into you. Tommy was such a slowpoke this morning. I told him we should have picked a meeting place so we could start with you guys. Hi, I’m Nancy.”

She shakes hands with all of my friends. How did Tommy find someone so flawless and so opposite to me?

“Now we can all run together,” Nancy says.

“Actually, I’m a pretty slow runner,” Janice says. “I don’t want anyone to wait for me—not even John.”

“Actually, I probably won’t make it to the finish line,” John says. Janice glares at him.

“Yes, you will,” she says. And he will.

“Why don’t we start together and see how it goes?” Tommy asks Nancy. He catches my eye, and I know that he’s said that for my benefit.

We get the countdown, and the gun—or whatever it is they use—goes off. There are so many people starting out that we barely get to run until we are about a half mile in. Immediately, I start breathing heavier. We lose Janice and John pretty quickly. John wasn’t kidding about not being prepared.

“It’s okay, breathe in and out,” Kathy says. She starts talking to me, trying to keep me breathing properly by talking. I am able to do this until about two miles. By then I am dripping with sweat. It’s just too hot. Tommy and Nancy keep looking over at me. I wish they would stop.

We get to a hilly part of Central Park. It’s not a big hill, but the course along the river or from my apartment to Union Square is very flat. I am not prepared for this. I wonder how John is handling it.

“You should lean over like this,” Nancy says. “It will help your momentum.”

“Thanks,” I say. Normally I would try to convey what a nice, non-bitter ex-girlfriend I am in every word I say to her—but not this time. I am too hot and overexerted for pretense. I turn to Kathy. “I think I’m going to fall behind and take my walking break now.”

“Just wait until we reach three miles. It’s going to get better in a sec.” Kathy has granted me one two-minute walking break. Well, she suggested that’s all I take, but I have a feeling she is going to be disappointed.

“Let’s run up ahead,” Tommy says to Nancy. I’m so glad. “C’mon.”

“I’ll see you at the end,” I grunt. I make sure to smile at
Nancy this time. A little pretense is palatable if it gets me away from the happy healthy couple.

They run ahead and I slow down. Kathy exaggerates her breathing as an example of what I should be doing.

“You don’t have to wait with me,” I say, trying to get the words out.

“I want to. Come on, you’re doing great. Don’t worry about talking. Just breathe.”

We run along like this for a while. We run past the guy who announces the three-mile mark. I look at Kathy, who shakes her head and mutters words of encouragement. I run beside her, trying to imitate her breath. It works, but after a few minutes, I really need a walking break.

“Okay, I’m going to slow down. I’ll see you at the finish line.”

“Are you sure? I can slow down, too.”

“I know you don’t want to walk, so just go ahead. I’ll see you there.” Somehow Kathy manages to give me a running hug and cheer me on. Then she takes off and I know she’s been holding out on me.

I slow, then stop and walk. Two minutes, it’s going to help. I breathe heavily. People are passing me—I feel like a loser. I look behind me for Janice and John. They are nowhere in sight. Maybe he convinced her to go to the bar, after all. Ugh, if I had a beer right now I would throw up. A cheese plate might be perfect, though. I pass the four-mile mark. According to my watch I have been walking for one minute and thirty-four seconds, but everyone is going by me. Oh, what the fuck? I start to run again, ahead of schedule, for the record.

This time I relax. I think about how Kathy was breathing. I repeat it over and over, in and out. I will finish. I’ve got to finish. I remember the day I ran along the river. Go back to that feeling of peace, Rebecca! Okay, I’m there. I feel strong. I can do that. I have a decent pace as I go past the five-mile marker.

I am doing this. I am almost done. I am running. I am a runner. I am sweating and gasping, but I am a runner. That’s like an athlete. That’s what I am. When I’m done, I will be able to
eat whatever I want, because I have already burned the calories. That’s what runners do—they (we!) eat and run.

But wait a second, I’ve passed the six-mile mark. Shit! Fuck! The .2 miles! It’s 6.2 miles. It’s a 10-K. Why is this the only place we really use the metric system? Why can’t I just be done with my exercise for the year? Why does running suck so much? I can’t breathe! I am floating in my sweat. I hate Kathy! I hate Janice! All runners are assholes.

“Hey,” says Tommy, jogging toward me. I won’t be fooled. He is some kind of mirage, like you get in the desert when you are dehydrated. That’s what it is. He is going to say that even though I am falling for Ben, he has decided to live as a monk and support me at all costs. After all, there are no other women like me, so why try to accept alternatives?

“Rebecca, are you all right?” Tommy asks. He might be real.

“Well, I’m running. How all right could I be? What are you doing?” He turns and starts running alongside me.

“Well, some people at the finish line are very upset with me, because I turned around after I went through.”

“Are you crazy? Why did you do that?”

“When I passed the six-mile mark, I knew you would probably be ready to give up. I thought I’d make sure you did it.”

“Thank you,” I say. It’s better than a vow of chastity and a constant candle held for me. It’s what a friend would do.

“Kathy tried to turn around, too. She is really worried about you. She turned around when they started yelling at her.”

“She’s a wimp,” I say, smiling. Along the police barricade people are cheering. This is fabulous. I’ve never been cheered before. It’s better than solid ratings. It’s almost better than rock shrimp tempura.

“Only another few yards,” Tommy yells over the crowd. Then he starts humming the theme from
Chariots of Fire,
so I’m laughing when I go past the finish line.

Kathy throws her arms around me and hands me some water. I even let Nancy hug me despite my river of sweat.

“You did it,” Kathy keeps saying. “You did it.”

T
o celebrate our completion of the race, we decide to go to Peter McManus. It’s an old Irish pub in Chelsea that Lauryn and I used to go to a lot when we lived in the Flatiron district. Janice and John are moving in with each other in Chelsea and have never hung out down there. I tell them about Peter McManus and spend a good twenty minutes singing the praises of Whole Foods and Chelsea Market.

“You’re really into food, aren’t you? Not that that’s a bad thing,” Nancy says. She is trying to be nice to me. She is not from New York—it’s just her nature. It can’t be easy to have your new boyfriend living with his ex-girlfriend.

“Yes,” I say, smiling. This time I really will try to be mature.

“She actually helped me make your dinner,” Tommy says.

“It was wonderful, thank you.”

“Sure. Speaking of food…” I say, flagging the waitress over.

“We have a fish-and-chip special,” she says.

“You love fish and chips,” Kathy says.

“I do,” I say. “But I’ll have the turkey club.”

I go to the little phone booth by the jukebox and call
Knuckle Sandwich. I know Ben was doing prep this morning and working the lunch crowd.

“How was the race? Did you win?” He laughs.

“No, but I finished. We’re at Peter McManus having some drinks. I denied the fish and chips because I knew they would pale in comparison to yours.”

“That’s my girl. I’m almost done here. Will wants to try out this day chef, so maybe I will come up and meet you.”

“You will?” This means he’ll meet Tommy. This means that we’ll both be here with our significant others. This is big. “Okay.”

I get back to the table as the food does. “Ben’s coming.”

“Great, I can’t wait to meet him,” Janice says, then she glances at Tommy. I notice Kathy is doing the same thing, only less obviously.

“Who’s Ben?” Nancy asks.

“It’s Rebecca’s new boyfriend,” Tommy says to her. Then he smiles at me. “And I can’t wait to meet him.”

I am desperate to finish my whole turkey club. It is an act of defiance for actually finishing the race. I feel it is my duty to consume as many calories as possible, as this is probably the most calories I will ever burn at once. The problem with club sandwiches is there is never enough bread to make all the sandwiches possible out of the ingredients. I can’t even make it through half. Everyone is eating big: Tommy got a Reuben, which he offers both Nancy and me a bite of. Janice and John went with fish and chips and Nancy got a cheeseburger. Nancy isn’t stingy offering me her fries. I find this quite endearing.

Only Kathy is watching what she eats. They were out of veggie burgers, so she got a plain turkey sandwich on white toast. She looks great, but I feel like she is living in constant fear of gaining an ounce. She eats about a quarter of it and orders a white wine after her beer.

“We just ran 6.2 miles, Kathy—you could use a sandwich.”

“Well, I wish they had whole wheat. I’ll have a salad when I get home.” She looks at her watch. “And actually, I have to go. I need to call a couple of the vendors and I shouldn’t be out late.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m getting married,” she says condescendingly, as if there is any way I could forget.

“In two weeks,” I say, equally as annoyed. She rolls her eyes at me. I don’t want to make a scene in front of everyone, so I don’t say anything else.

“I have to catch a cab to Grand Central,” she says.

“Well, are you sure you can’t just wait until Ben gets here?” I really want to introduce him to her. I’ve told him all about the issues we’ve all been having lately and I know he is excited about getting to know the Big Three—Kathy, Beth, Lauryn.

“Oh, Rebecca, I can’t,” she says, acting genuinely apologetic. “I don’t want to miss this train.”

On Saturdays the trains to Kathy’s town run every half hour. Late nights the trains run even more sporadically, sometimes every hour. In the past missing a train meant we could hang out and drink and have more fun. Those days are over and I realize that. I am going to have to stop comparing our friendship now to what it was in the past.

“Okay, I’ll walk you out,” I say. Kathy says her goodbyes to everyone and even gives Nancy a “looking forward to seeing you at the wedding” comment.

We go outside the bar. I start to hail Kathy a cab.

“So, she seems really nice, right?” Kathy asks.

“Yeah, she’s cool,” I say. “I don’t think it would be easy no matter who it was.”

“But you’re okay?” I am touched that Kathy cares so much about my feelings. I am almost feeling guilty about being annoyed that she isn’t going to meet Ben, until she adds, “There is not going to be any drama at the wedding, is there?”

“No, there isn’t going to be any drama.” I am annoyed again. Where is the supportive, cheering friend who hugged me when I crossed the finish line? “Is the wedding all you care about?”

“Of course I care about you, Rebecca.” She is growing exasperated with me. “I just want it to be a special day.”

That’s the same thing she said to Lauryn when Lauryn ex
pressed concern about all of us wearing matching eighty-dollar costume jewelry necklaces.

“It’s going to be special. I was just hoping you could meet Ben.” She nods like I’ve reminded her of something.

“You know, I hope he realizes that you are going to be very very busy that day.”

I shake my head. “Kathy, I haven’t even decided if I’m bringing him, but if I do it won’t prevent me from being at your beck and call.” She tips her head at me like I’m being a mischievous child.

“Rebecca, don’t be so dramatic. Look, here is my cab.” Her cab comes at the perfect time for her to make her escape. She kisses me perfunctorily on the cheek.

“Hey.” I turn to see Ben and back to where Kathy’s cab has already turned. He is never going to meet any of the Big Three.

“Hi,” I say. I kiss him, then I kiss him again because I can and it feels good. I always forget how attracted I am to him until the moment I see him.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I just got Kathy a cab and was reminded that she is getting married.”

“Nice,” he says. “Are you ready for your men to meet?”

“I guess so.” Tommy happens to be in the bathroom when we get back to the table, delaying a possible release of my tension even longer.

I introduce him to Janice, John and Nancy. Janice winks at me when she thinks no one is looking, but John is. He shakes his head at her and then winks at me. Ben goes up to get a drink, since there isn’t any server in the front of the bar unless you get food. So of course he is waiting for his drink at the bar when Tommy gets back to the table. It’s like some sort of French farce. It’s too much for this girl to take.

“I think I’m going to put some songs on,” Tommy says, getting up to go to the jukebox.

“No!” I yell a little too loudly. The table looks at me inquisitively. Time to cover. “Just wait a sec, I think I saw a bunch of people putting songs on. Who knows how long it will take?”

“Okay, weirdo,” he says. But he sits back down.

“Tom,” Nancy says reproachfully. I am starting to like her, but I think she might be one of those people who is too nice to have a sense of humor. I find it strange that Tommy is into her, but who am I to question love.

Finally Ben comes back and time seems to stand still when he and Tommy shake hands and greet each other with a “hey, man.” I’m certain I could tell you every piece of clothing Nancy had on when I met her and the color of her toenails. But neither Tommy nor Ben seem to be that interested in anything but their beer.

“They put the Bass keg on?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah, it’s fresh. No Guinness on tap, unfortunately.”

“Tell me about it. It’s a real jones.”

“Yeah,” says Ben, shaking his head. That’s it, no big bully pushing match? No “I think we should take this outside and settle it once and for all”? No “Stay away from my woman”? No “I love her like you never did”? No nodding in the joy of the shared knowledge of my expertise in the sack? Don’t get me wrong, I wanted them to get along, but I wanted it to be more than a conclusion that each is a cool guy because they like to get their Guinness on.

Boys are nuts.

But we have a good time. It’s like we’re on a triple date. I miss hanging out with Janice and John. I think now we’ve crossed the line from just being work friends to actually being call-up-and-hang-out friends. Janice tells me that Jen is fed up with the whole kids’ industry. She is planning on going to nursing school.

“That’s too bad, she was so into kids.”

“I know, but she wanted to do something that mattered.”

“Yeah, I was supposed to be a stockbroker,” Nancy says.

“Really?” Janice says, leaning into the table.

“Yeah. I interned for like two months and I knew that it wasn’t for me. And I know it’s not a real job, but I like nannying. I like that I can support myself and still play my cello whenever I want.”

“It’s so great that you have that,” Janice says. I can see she is really impressed. “You may have to deal with kids, but I bet you can clear your mind and focus on your music.”

“It’s true, and they’re great kids. I think, what’s more important, helping raise two human beings or putting more money in someone’s pocket?”

“That’s awesome. Sometimes I just want to get back into painting again,” Janice says. “I am just so tired at the end of the day.”

“Well, you’ve got to force yourself to do it,” Nancy says, “because in the end it’s doing the things that you love that gives you the most peace.”

“Yeah,” I say, starting to understand the things Tommy likes about her. I think that lately, other than hanging out with Ben, the only thing I love doing is eating. No, wait, that’s not true. I loved the idea that kids were seeing what I was creating and it was helping them somehow. That isn’t really a tangible action, but it is something I love. Maybe one of these Don concepts will turn into something like that.

“What we do, what I did, is good,” I say to both of them. “It’s just that we get so far removed from the actual audience, we don’t realize it.”

“Yeah,” Janice says, nodding. “We make things for kids, but when do we ever actually see them?”

“Kids are great,” Nancy says. It’s obvious, and it’s the booze talking, but it’s true.

The guys are getting along. They are practically creaming over the possibility of what the final installment of
Lord of the Rings
will offer them. I should have seen it coming. Tommy is clearly the bigger movie and comic buff, but Ben impressed everyone with little-known trivia and John is able to draw a really good Spider-Man on a ketchup-stained napkin.

All of this socializing is helped by copious amounts of alcohol. While the food at Peter McManus is nothing to scoff at, the real reason I love coming here is the consistency of their buy-back policy. For every two drinks you buy, the bar buys you one. If you can walk out of here you’re lucky. Nancy is
clearly feeling it when her laughter gets louder. Tommy suggests that they head home.

“Oh, yeah, we have a train to catch,” she says. It takes me a second to realize she is making fun of Kathy. That’s pretty ballsy, and even if it’s only because she is drunk, I think it means she feels comfortable with me. Maybe she has a sense of humor, after all.

They say goodbye to the rest of us. Tommy makes sure to tell Ben that it was nice to meet him. When he bends to kiss me goodbye, I whisper that I won’t be coming home tonight, if he wants Nancy to sleep over.

“Thank you,” he says.

We hang out for another drink. The sun hasn’t even gone down yet, but I am buzzed. Janice and John insist that we walk by their new apartment. They smile when they look up at the brownstone on tree-lined Twenty-first Street. Then they catch a cab downtown. We say goodbye and I remind Janice that sooner or later I might snag her away from Explore! to do some top-secret work for Don and me.

Ben and I are far enough west to walk over to the river. I’m glad to be outside walking with my hand in Ben’s. The air has turned cooler and I’m still in my T-shirt from the race. He puts his arm around me and points up to the overpass west of Tenth Street. He tells me about all the ecology that is developing there and how someday it will make a great park.

He talks like we’ll be together for a long time; this is something I have to stop second-guessing. I think he makes me live in the moment. I tell him that he and Lauryn would get along.

“She’s the bird girl, right?” I can’t believe that “bird girl” is how people now refer to Lauryn.

“Yeah, I wish you could meet her. Well you will, if you come to the wedding.”

“I can still meet her, even if I don’t come to the wedding.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to go?”

“Like I said, I want you to do what you want.”

“They breed good men in New Hampshire.”

“I think it’s you who has good taste.”

“Oh, right, now you love Tommy.” I smile. Even though I would have enjoyed a little chivalrous drama, I think they are both adults for not trying to eclipse each other.

“I like Janice and John, also. I think you surround yourself with good people.”

“Wait until you meet the Big Three. God, I wish you met them five years ago. They were so different.”

“I’m sure you were also. Who knows if we would have liked each other then. You might only now have been ready for me.” He has a point. “You know, I think you give what you get.”

Esme is back. We are walking by the river the way Ben and I were. She isn’t talking, but she keeps thinking the words “You have to decide, you have to decide.” Is it because I want other people to make my decisions?

“What are you trying to say? Wait!” Esme laughs. Her laugh sounds like mine and the voice-over I picked and the new voice-over she has now. I know she isn’t mine anymore and she never will be. I loved her and created her, but now she is out in the world and I have no control of her.

She climbs on the railing. She is going to jump into the Hudson River and I won’t see her again after that. She is going to be fine without me, but will I be fine without her?

When I look at her waving goodbye before splashing into the river she actually speaks, “Goodbye, Ms. Cole.”