Where'd You Go, Bernadette(12)
The only thing now is I’m short and don’t have breasts, which is annoying. Plus my asthma. Lots of doctors said I could have asthma even if I was born with a good heart. It doesn’t keep me from doing anything like dancing or playing the flute. I don’t have the thing where you wheeze. I have the even grosser thing where any time I get sick, even if it’s a stomach virus, it’s followed by two weeks of disgusting phlegm, which I have no choice but to cough up. I’m not saying it’s the most pleasant thing to be sitting across from, but if you care about how it feels to me, I’ll tell you that I barely notice it.
The nurse at school, Mrs. Webb, is totally ridiculous the way she’s obsessed with my cough. I swear, on the last day of school I want to pretend to drop dead in her office just to freak her out. I seriously think that every day Mrs. Webb leaves Galer Street and it’s a day I didn’t die on her watch, she feels this soaring relief.
I’m totally off-task. Why did I even start writing all this? Oh, yeah. I’m not sick!
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 2
From: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal
To: Audrey Griffin
You have been very dear not to ask me how the Microsoft town hall went. I’m sure you’re dying to know if I was a casualty of the epic downsizing that has been all over the papers.
This was a top-to-bottom RIF, a ten percent haircut. In the old days, a reorg meant a hiring spree. Now it means layoffs. As I might have told you, my project was about to be canceled, and my PM got a little unhinged and flamed half of Microsoft. I maniacally checked meeting room reservations and the jobs website, trying to glean something about my future. Our top people landed at Windows Phone and Bing. When I tried to get answers from my PM about me, all I received in response was eerie silence.
Then, yesterday afternoon, I got pinged by an HR rep who wanted to see me in the meeting room down the hall the next day. (I had seen that appointment. I had no idea it was for me!) Before I got out the teapot and threw myself a pity party, I dropped everything and found the nearest Victims Against Victimhood meeting, which helped enormously. (I know you’re a huge skeptic when it comes to VAV, but they are my rock.) I drove myself to work this morning because I didn’t want the added indignity of having to load a bunch of boxes onto the Connector. I showed up in the meeting room, where the HR woman calmly informed me that our entire team, except for those who already left for Bing and Windows Phone, were being RIFed.
“However,” she said, “you rank so well that we’d like to assign you to a special project located in Studio C.”
Audrey, I just about fell over. Studio C is on the new Studio West campus, and their work is the most high profile at Microsoft. Good news: I’m getting promoted! Bad news: the new product I’m working on is in high gear, and I’ll be expected to work weekends. It’s a hush-hush project. I don’t even know its name yet. Bad news: I may not be able to make the Prospective Parent Brunch. Good news: I’ll definitely be able to pay for the food.
Talk soon, and go Huskies!
*
From: Ollie-O
To: Prospective Parent Brunch Committee
REAL-TIME FLASH!
We’re up to 60 RSVPs! I’m just throwing out some fertilizer, but: Pearl Jam. I hear they’ve got kids entering kindergarten. If we get one of them—it doesn’t have to be the singer—I can grow it.
*
From: Audrey Griffin
To: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal
Great news about the promotion! I’ll gladly take you up on your offer to pay for the food. I still have enough green tomatoes in the greenhouse to fry up for appetizers, plus dill, parsley, and cilantro for aioli. I’ve stored two bushels of apples and want to make my rosemary tarte tatin for dessert. For the main course, how about we get that traveling pizza oven to cater? They can set up in the backyard, which frees up my kitchen.
Ollie-O was right about buzz being “viral.” Today at Whole Foods, a woman I didn’t even recognize recognized me and said she was looking forward to my brunch. Judging from the contents of her shopping cart—imported cheese, organic raspberries, fruit wash spray—she is the exact quality of parent we need at Galer Street. I saw her in the parking lot. She was driving a Lexus. Not a Mercedes, but close enough!
Did you hear? Shipping a sick child off to boarding school! Why am I not surprised?
*
That day, I had a hall pass because our music teacher, Mr. Kangana, asked me to accompany the first graders for the song they were performing for World Celebration Day, and he needed me for rehearsal. I was at my locker getting my flute, and who did I run into, but Audrey Griffin. She was hanging some prayer rugs the third graders had woven for the art auction.
“I hear you’re going to boarding school,” she said. “Whose idea was that?”
“Mine,” I said.
“I could never send Kyle to boarding school,” Audrey said.
“I guess you love Kyle more than my mom loves me,” I said, and played my flute as I skipped down the hall.
*
From: Manjula Kapoor
To: Bernadette Fox
Dear Ms. Fox,
I have researched medicines for motion sickness. The strongest remedy available by prescription in the U.S. is called ABHR transdermal cream. It is a composite of Ativan, Benadryl, Haldol, and Reglan, formulated into a cream for topical application. It was devised by NASA to administer to the cosmonauts to combat motion sickness in outer space. It has since been embraced by the hospice community to use on terminally ill cancer patients. It would be my sincere pleasure to send you links to various message boards that sing the high praise of ABHR cream. However, I must warn you, there are accompanying photographs of gravely ill patients, which you may find disturbing. I have taken the initiative to research the obtainment of ABHR cream. It is available only through “compound pharmacies.” We do not have these in India. Apparently, they are widely used in the U.S. I have found a doctor who will call in a prescription. Please advise me how you wish to proceed.