Girls in White Dresses - JENNIFER CLOSE [4]
Ben slept easily in her bed, his mouth open, covers kicked off. Sometimes Isabella woke up with a headache and hated him for being able to sleep. Sometimes she crept into Mary’s room and got into bed with her. “He’s snoring,” she’d whisper. And Mary would grunt and roll over.
The more Ben stayed there, though, the more time Mary spent at the library. Their apartment, which was cramped with two of them, could barely hold three. Isabella got the sense that Mary was getting more and more annoyed at her, pointing out that the garbage was full, saying things like “I guess I’ll go get more toilet paper, again,” and shutting her door extra hard when she came home. Once, in the middle of the night, Ben left the toilet seat up and Mary fell in as she sat down. Isabella tried to make it up to her, cleaning the bathroom and buying candy. She could tell that Mary appreciated her efforts, but the apartment remained crowded, and still sometimes caused Mary to sigh loudly or snap about the dishes, depending on the day.
Isabella was surprised to find that she could do her job in a constantly hungover state. She wasn’t sure if this was a wonderful discovery or a sign that she should run. Either way, her performance reviews were superb.
“Stick with me for one year and you’ll go places,” Bill always said to her. He had a big stomach and ate Greek salad for lunch every day, which made him smell like onions, always. Isabella knew that he thought the Greek salad was super healthy, and for that she pitied him. She also wished he didn’t smell like he did.
Sharon was less direct. “I got a run in my panty hose,” she would announce. Then she would stand and stare at Isabella, making a face that said, What should we do about the pickle we’re in? until Isabella offered to go get her new ones.
Standing in Duane Reade, picking out someone else’s panty hose, Isabella thought, “This is really happening.” She chose a control-top package and went to the counter to pay.
In late October, Isabella’s sister, Molly, brought her two girls to the city for the day. They came on the train from Philadelphia, wearing matching plaid jumpers and clutching American Girl dolls. Molly insisted that they come to Isabella’s apartment so that she could see where she was living. They all stood in the TV room and looked around. Missy and Caroline used the bathroom and sat on Isabella’s bed.
“It’s very efficient,” Molly said, and gathered up her things to go.
As they walked down the street, Missy, the older one, told Isabella about their trip in. “There was a man sleeping outside the train station,” she said. “He made some bad choices in life.”
“Really?” Isabella asked. She looked at Molly out of the corners of her eyes.
“Yeah,” Missy said. She grabbed Caroline’s arm and started offering advice. “Watch out for dog poop on the sidewalk,” she said. “Don’t look at anyone, or they’ll take you.”
“Missy, no one is going to take you guys,” Isabella said. Missy, who was nine, shook her head like Isabella was stupid. “They told us about it in class, Auntie Iz. There are kidnappers everywhere, but especially in New York.”
All of Isabella’s nieces and nephews called her Auntie Iz, a ridiculous nickname given to her by her oldest brother when he had his first baby. It made her sound like some wicked aunt in a fairy tale, like a forgotten character from The Wizard of Oz.
Missy stood there with pursed lips and wide eyes, as though she wanted to warn Isabella of the dangers of New York. Missy was a clone of Molly, and sometimes, even though she was only nine, it was hard to like her. Isabella bent down to Caroline. “No one’s going to take you,” she whispered in her ear. Caroline smiled.
They trekked around American Girl