Up & Out - Ariella Papa [75]
I call Sarah over and start asking her some lame programming questions. When Don returns with my drink I thank him and mention that Sarah is interested in moving to the East Village (she actually said downtown, but I need something to help them connect). Don lives in the East Village and Sarah asks him if he’s been to a bar she likes. Don looks at me, but keeps talking to her. I excuse myself to talk to Kim from Licensing. She relishes telling me how ridiculous Delores’s expectations are.
“I mean, she decides to make all these changes, but then I’m like ‘If it’s not in the style guide, I don’t have a color palate.’”
“Unbelievable,” I say. I am completely supportive.
“And you heard about the Harvard thing?”
“Unbelievable,” I repeat again. Kim gets a call on her cell and I look over toward Sarah and Don, trying to gauge if I should go back over. I decide to chat with Jen, who is sitting at the bar smoking a cigarette.
“How’s it going, kiddo?” I ask as I sit on a stool. I feel like she is my little sister.
“It’s all right.”
“I didn’t think you smoked.”
“Just when I drink.”
“While we can,” I say. She offers me her pack. “Are you sure? It’s tacky with the price of cigarettes being what they are.”
“No, take one.”
“Listen, are you having fun?”
“Well, everyone is celebrating and I don’t think we should be.”
“You can’t be incensed all the time.”
“I know, but you don’t have a job.”
“I know, but look on the bright side, I get a summer vacation.” When I’m around other people I think I need to put on this front, regardless of how I feel.
“You heard about the Harvard thing?”
“Yeah, unbelievable.”
“You know, I was so excited to work here because I loved the idea that I could reach kids. You know I bought into all the shit. And now all anyone ever talks about is money. It sucks.”
“I know. I think that’s what I started for, too. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Let me get you one.”
“Please, Jen, I’ve been getting spoiled all night. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I’d really like to get you a drink.”
“Okay.”
“A gimlet for me and—”
“Cuervo Gold margarita on the rocks,” she says. I smile.
“Now, that’s a drink.” I pay the tab. I hold up my glass to her and we clink. “To loving what you do.”
“And tween girls,” she says.
“And tween girls.”
Beth invites Tommy to a Fourth of July party. The owner of the studio she works for has a summer house on Long Island. I get a pity invite. I would like to stand by my principles and not go. I think I want to punish Beth somehow for not really being that involved in my life these days, but I don’t want to stay home. Besides, we’ve been shorting out the electricity a lot and the only thing worse than sitting home alone is sitting home alone in a virtual oven.
“She said to bring your bathing suit,” Tommy says to me over dinner. “This guy has a giant pool. I think he’s loaded.”
We are eating bread with a salad of tomatoes, basil and fresh mozzarella cheese. We ate this two nights ago, but I really like the fresh cheese. Perhaps I’ve been eating a little too much of it. None of my clothes fit me anymore.
After dinner I dig out my bathing suits. I have a brown bikini and a black one-piece. For laughs, I try on the bikini and stare at myself in the mirror. Now, I’ve always been one to enjoy my curves—but this is too much. My belly looks paunchy, my thighs are thick, and I’m certain my boobs have begun to sag. None of this is aided by the fact that my whole body is pasty white.
I have to start eating less cheese. I have to start working out. I have to do something.
Even the black one-piece looks bad. I bought it when we went on a cruise with Tommy’s parents and it’s really conservative. My belly seems to stick out even more. The color really