I'm Fine and Neither Are You(42)

“I know you are,” I said. “And so am I. You’re the last person I want to be arguing with right now.”

He gave me a skeptical look. “If this is your idea of an argument . . .” I was about to respond when he glanced over his shoulder again. “Not to change the subject, but there’s something I wanted to ask you.” His tone had softened, and I felt myself relaxing.

“Anything.”

“I’ve been getting a lot of emails from Jenny’s readers. And you know Tiana, Jenny’s assistant?”

I nodded.

“She says people on the internet are saying things. They want to know why Jenny hasn’t been posting. People don’t know she died, but they’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“Right.”

“I was wondering if you could write something—like a final post explaining that she passed, maybe asking for privacy. Something that honors who she was but puts an end to the questions. Since the two of you were so close and you’re a writer, I thought it would be nice if you were the one to do it.”

Was I a writer? It had been so long since I’d thought of myself that way that I was surprised to hear him say it. “Of course, I’d be happy to.” Well, I wouldn’t necessarily be happy to write something completely vague and possibly untrue about Jenny’s death. But if that’s what I had to do to protect Cecily, then that’s what I would do.

“Tiana sent me the log-in info and posting instructions, so after you write it, I can post it. It’s no rush—maybe in the next couple of weeks if you can find the time.”

I looked at him. “I’ll find the time.”



For months, I had been talking to a woman named Nancy Weingarten about donating millions of dollars to support women in medicine at the university. The following Monday it was finally time to seal the deal, which would be the biggest of my career. That was, if I could actually seal it.

As I walked Nancy to the conference room where we were meeting, I found myself thinking about my conversation with Matt. Had he asked me to write something on Jenny’s website only so we’d stop arguing? Given his tendency to hit the road when he and Jenny were fighting, I knew I wasn’t the only one who was conflict averse.

Still, what he had said—that he didn’t know how Cecily was doing because she was at camp all day and he was spending his free time doing paperwork—was like a splinter wedged beneath my skin. I could only seem to ignore it for short bursts of time; sooner or later, it would have to be dealt with.

I sat at the long mahogany table, looked across at Nancy Weingarten, and began the talk I’d prepared.

But as I thanked her for her time and consideration, again my thoughts flitted back to Matt. He could change the subject all he wanted. He could try to avoid me all he wanted. My pushy questions and I were not going anywhere. I may have failed Jenny in myriad ways, but I would do this one thing for her.

“Penelope.” Russ’ voice sliced through my thoughts.

My eyes suddenly refocused. “I’m sorry, Russell, what was that?”

“Penelope,” he said slowly, as if I were new to the English language, “Ms. Weingarten was asking us to confirm that we would use the Weingarten Family Fund verbiage on all materials relating to the scholarship. Can you weigh in?”

“Absolutely,” I said, but my tone didn’t exactly project confidence and competence.

Nancy Weingarten had been among the first women to graduate from the university’s medical school, and had gone on to get her doctorate from Harvard before creating a new therapy for rheumatoid arthritis that had completely changed the way the disease was treated. Much of her life had been an uphill battle, she told me in an earlier meeting, and she suffered no fools.

Now she was across the conference table looking at me like I was insufferable. “Absolutely you can weigh in, or absolutely you’ll use my name on all things related to the scholarship?” she rasped.

“We’ll absolutely use your name on all materials,” I said, sitting up straight in my chair.

“Good.” She narrowed her eyes and lowered her bifocals to examine me. “And how will you promote the scholarship?”

I smiled—I knew this part like the back of my hand. “We plan to announce it via the university’s news channels, and work with local, state, and national media to spread the word.”

I had just opened my mouth to continue when Russ interjected: “We’ll also include it in the materials we send to prospective and current students.”

How had I ever been attracted to this underminer, even for a second? “As well as media outlets that cover health news and research,” I said pointedly.

Russ smiled at Nancy. “As you may have guessed, we put all of this in the case statement for you to noodle over.” He parroted Yolanda so expertly that I almost expected him to squawk. Beside Nancy, Yolanda was nodding with narrowed eyes, pleased.

“Penny,” said Russ, like this wasn’t my presentation. Maybe it wasn’t anymore. “The case statement?”

I opened the folder I had put together that morning and retrieved a glossy, freshly printed brochure I had personalized for Nancy.

Except the document was the generic version we offered to anyone who donated more than five thousand dollars. I had grabbed the wrong document from my desk.