I Was Told It Would Get Easier(49)

“It probably would have been harder if I’d had someone else’s career to consider.”

“Possibly.”

“I do have a child, Mr. Ostergren. Leaving Los Angeles isn’t possible for me right now, I’m sorry.”

There was a pause while he considered this. The toddler on the other side of the café had calmed down and was happily playing with a plastic dinosaur, and for a moment I met the eyes of the other mother. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. Congratulations, my expression said, and, Thanks, said hers. Complete conversation, three seconds.

“Well, that’s acceptable. You don’t have to move to Baltimore right away. You could work remotely, there’s not really any need to relocate.” He had clearly realized he would save on relocation costs and was warming to this idea.

“Uh, I don’t know, Mr. Ostergren. Your firm specializes in international shipping, it’s not an area of law I’m very familiar with.”

“You’ll learn.” He paused. “I’m a good judge of people, Ms. Burnstein. I know you can do it. I assure you the salary would be attractive, the benefits comprehensive.” Then he mentioned a sum of money far in excess of what I was currently making, which, I won’t deny, changed the tenor of the conversation somewhat.

“Mr. Ostergren, I’m very flattered you even thought to ask me. I need to think about it for a while. I’ll get back to you next week, once I’m in LA again. Will that work?”

“Certainly, Ms. Burnstein.”

I hung up, then texted Emily that she needed to come eat something.

Good lord.





15





EMILY


After lunch it was back on the bus. Swarthmore was pretty, but I probably shouldn’t pick a college based on looks; it would confirm my mom’s worst suspicions about the Instagram generation. Right now I can’t imagine wanting to spend another minute in a classroom, given the choice. When I graduate high school I will have been in school for thirteen solid years, not even counting preschool. I’d get a shorter sentence for armed robbery.

The admissions lady was nice, though, and she was wearing, like, platform saddle shoes with bright green laces. I was obsessed.





JESSICA


Emily seemed very interested during the Swarthmore admissions talk and told me she thought it was a really pretty campus. I’d wandered onto Columbia’s campus and felt immediately at home. Was it too much to hope Emily would have a similar experience somewhere?

It was a bit rushed at Swarthmore, unfortunately, and then we piled into the E3 bus to head to New Jersey. I guess they wanted to try to miss the traffic, but that was a pretty epic fail and we spent three hours on the bus instead of the hour or so the itinerary said. Not that it mattered.

Emily sat next to me on the bus, although I’d noticed she and Will had had their heads together all through lunch. I decided to try to sidle up to the topic.

“So, you and Will seem to be getting on. Is he nice?” Not a subtle sidle, to be fair, but it worked.

“Sure,” Emily said. “He’s very nice. He knows a lot about art and history.”

“Really? Then why isn’t he studying that at college, rather than computers?”

She shrugged. “No clue. Ask him.”

“No, you can ask him.”

She frowned at me. “You know, it’s weird what you think I talk about with my friends. We never ask each other what our parents do for work, although you always ask me. We don’t talk about college, either, unless we’re forced to, like by Cassidy at breakfast. We talk about ourselves, about what we like, movies, books, the usual conversational stuff. It’s not a constant interview, which is what seems to happen when two adults get together. What do you do for a living? Where did you go to school? What does your wife do?” She looked out the window. “You guys are weird, you don’t know how to communicate, you’re too busy stratifying.”

I looked at her. “Nice word.”

“Thanks,” she said, not turning around. “I learned it from Casper.”

“Who’s Casper?”

“Geology Boy.” She frowned at me. “We had breakfast with him yesterday, remember?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

She turned back again. “See? You don’t even know their names.”

I fought back gently. “It’s not like they’ve been coming up to me all the time, introducing themselves and curiously asking me my opinion and thoughts on everything.”

“Alice talks to you.”

I shook my head. “No, Alice hasn’t actually spoken to me directly. She doesn’t like me, because she can tell I don’t like her.” I lowered my voice, suddenly worried Dani could hear me. She was at least eight rows ahead, but the last thing I wanted was for her to know the truth. Truth is a deadly foe when you’re trying to get along with hundreds of other parents for a dozen years.

Emily’s mouth twitched. “How can she tell that?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Because she possesses the native cunning and sense of self-preservation all mammals do. She can smell my disapproval.”

“Like a horse?”

“I think that’s fear. I don’t think horses care if you approve of them or not.”