I Was Told It Would Get Easier(65)



“Hey,” I texted. “Sorry I’ve been AWOL, I’m on this college thing.”

Long pause. Great, she hates me. Wait, three dots, then: “I know. Did you hear?”

“Yeah. What happened?” Pause. “Really. I heard various versions.”

“It’s simple. Lucy told her mom, her mom told the school.”

I frowned. “Did Lucy say that?”

“No, that’s my theory. She’s not saying anything. Her mom took her out completely. She gone, dude, she never even replies to my texts.”

I thought about that for a moment.

“Your parents freak?”

“Totally. Not sure they weren’t mostly mad I got caught, they freaked out more when I told them I was failing the class.”

I heard the shower turn off.

“Gotta go. Sorry.”

“Later.”

Now, sitting in the restaurant with this amazing woman who’d done everything right, and my mom, whose entire raison d’être was doing the right thing, I realized there was no way I could ever explain to them what Becca and the others had done. They would never understand. I was completely alone.

But, like I said, Helen was a trip.





JESSICA


After dinner we all headed back to the hotel, and while Emily went up to the room, Helen and I decided to have one more drink in the hotel bar.

Helen gazed around. “It’s amazing to think how many people have had a drink with their friends at this place. Hundreds of years of regrettable incidents.”

I laughed. “Centuries of false promises and hookups that changed the fate of nations.”

“Or led to pox of one sort or another. There were several centuries of drinking here before penicillin was discovered.”

“True.”

We sat in silence for a moment. Then Helen said, “So, what’s really going on with you?”

“How do you mean?”

She tipped her head back and regarded me thoughtfully. “I mean I assume there must be more going on than what you can say in front of your child. If it’s all PG, I’m very disappointed.”

I shrugged. “I threatened to quit my job in order to ensure sexism-free workplace practices.”

“Wow. Way to bury the lede.”

“I may not actually have to quit. It wasn’t exactly an idle threat, because I will quit, but hopefully not.” I explained, not leaving out anything. Helen can be trusted.

“Glad to see your rebellious streak is still alive and well.”

I grunted. “No one was more surprised than me.”

“Did you tell Valentina?”

I shook my head. “Too much pressure.”

“So basically you’ve only told me?”

“And Chris, this guy on the tour.”

Helen raised her eyebrows at me. “Cute?”

I nodded. “Yes, but Emily is interested in his son, and there is no way on God’s good earth that I am doing any kind of mother-daughter father-son dating thing. Too weird.”

“You’re a good mom.”

“Because I won’t date her boyfriend’s dad? Wow, you have a low bar.”

The room was cozy, and I was starting to feel a little sleepy. A fire was burning, hundreds of years of dirt dimmed the walls; it smelled of brandy and centuries of smoke.

“I also got offered a job in Maryland.”

“Doing what?”

“Windsurfing for charity.”

“What?”

“As a lawyer of course, Helen, what else?” I laughed. “After fifteen years at the same job, never even thinking about changing, I suddenly threaten to quit and get a job offer in two days. Plus, David Millar hit on me to a nauseating extent, there’s a hot dad on the tour, and . . . it’s overwhelming.” I picked at a napkin. “I am not happy right now.”

Helen laughed at me. “Just to increase your confusion, I think you should go back to college. We’re always looking for mature students.”

I made a face. “I’m a mature student? Ugh.” I drank more wine. “No, I have a plan and I’m sticking to it. Quitting notwithstanding.”

Helen was skeptical. “Describe your supposed plan.”

I leaned back in my chair and counted off on my fingers. “First, get accepted to the California bar, check; move to LA, check; get a good job; put Emily in an excellent elementary school; get a reliable babysitter; work my ass off to pay for the school and the babysitter; get Emily into Westminster; make partner so I can afford Westminster; get Emily through middle and high school without her getting arrested, pregnant, or addicted to methamphetamines; get her into a good college; get promoted so I can afford the good college; keep working my ass off to pay for the whole four years; help her get a good job; then go out into the backyard, dig myself a big hole, and sit in it.”

“Wow,” said Helen. “That’s quite a detailed plan.”

“Yup. You know me, I like to achieve my goals.”

“When did you come up with that plan?”

“When the second line appeared on the pregnancy test.”

“And you haven’t deviated from your plan for the last seventeen years?”

I shook my head.

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