“I don’t know,” Alice says. “We’re talking about an insular family business that’s never been examined. What I do know is that this is the only chance we’ll ever get to dig into the company’s culture.”
“Who exactly is ‘we’?” Jessie frowns.
“Women,” Alice says plainly. She sighs. “Look, Alma Boots is a boys’ club. Like so many places in this city. In this world.”
A beat. “When you reached out, I thought” Jessie doesn’t finish her thought. “I’ve missed you, Alice. I feel like it’s been forever since we had a proper catch-up. I have no idea what you’ve been up to.”
“I’ve been busy,” Alice offers. A lie—obviously. But it’s the only acceptable answer when talking to her former classmates, not that she does that very often. Everyone wants to know how she’s been, because, to them, her life is a mystery. She isn’t on LinkedIn. She hasn’t started her own business. She hasn’t been featured in the alumni newsletter—and not just because she isn’t an alumni. She simply vanished. Quit school, got pregnant, moved to a small town, had a baby. Once, she’d been the wunderkind in their class.
“That’s good,” Jessie says, nodding. “Busy is good.”
Probably, Jessie doesn’t believe her. Which is fair. If Alice had to answer that question honestly, she wouldn’t know where to begin. Alice has no idea where the time goes, especially now that Allegra is with Malaika all day. Rationally, Alice understands how she spends her time: sleeping, reading, and engaging in various forms of self-care—taking a bubble bath, applying a face mask, getting a massage. That and avoiding Tish. But by the time Nick gets home each day, Alice has the distinct feeling that the previous hours have been lost, evaporated into a fog of sorts. How is it possible she hasn’t died of boredom?
“I’ve missed you, too,” Alice adds, quickly. It isn’t untrue. But mostly Alice misses herself. The self she used to be back when Jessie was in her life.
“What makes you think I’ll agree to this?” Jessie asks, picking up on the fact that Alice would rather focus on business.
“Because you’re the only one of our classmates who followed a path that isn’t just lucrative.” Alice gestures around the office, her eyes landing on the symbol of a black crow on the wall next to THE MORRIGAN in gold. “Because you founded something that aims to make the world a better place, to end gender inequality, to expose the reach of the patriarchy.” Alice swallows. “And because you were the only one who believed me.”
At this, Jessie’s face crumples. “I thought that’s what you wanted to talk to me about, actually.” Alice frowns, confused. Jessie continues, “I thought you were going to ask me to open an investigation on him.” Jessie doesn’t specify the him, doesn’t say Professor Keyes’s name—she doesn’t need to.
Alice shrugs. When the #MeToo movement began, she’d held her breath, waiting for the day when Thomas Keyes would finally be exposed as the predator he was. Alice couldn’t come forward, she didn’t have it in her to fight that battle again, but surely another student would expose him? And yet, none did. She explains as much to Jessie now.
“It’s been years and his name hasn’t been attached to any other accusation other than my own. I know they say that predators are always repeat offenders. But maybe he’s the exception.”
“Maybe.” Jessie sounds unconvinced, which fills Alice with gratitude. “Look, I take your point. If I’m hired and if my contract allows me enough leeway to look into the company as a whole—”
“It will.” Nick is in charge of the investigation, thanks to a little persuasion on Alice’s part.
Jessie holds up her palm. “If that happens, I’ll do what you’re asking me to. With two conditions.” She holds up a finger. “One, we never talk about this again, not until it’s over.” She sticks up a second finger in the air. “And two, when it is over, you and I go out for old times’ sake.” Jessie smiles. “I’ve missed you.”
Alice smiles, feeling that pleasant-and-unpleasant feeling return. “Deal.”
Nine
Zofia
Tuesday, September 10th
Dr. Woodward is wearing a green tie today. Green with tiny yellow penguins. Or perhaps they’re ducks. Zofia isn’t sure because Dr. Woodward is reading from the orange notebook, the one Zofia gave him, and he is holding the notebook in front of his tie, obstructing Zofia’s view. It’s annoying. Zofia enjoys observing Dr. Woodward’s outfits. Dr. Woodward dresses very professionally, even in the summer, which is very impressive since it can get quite hot in Florida and it is common knowledge that elegance and heat do not go hand in hand. Zofia finds it clever that there isn’t much variety to his outfits, apart from his tie and socks. It’s much harder to see his socks, but sometimes Dr. Woodward will cross his legs in a certain way (one foot placed on his knee, for instance) and Zofia will sneak a peek at his rather lively, colorful socks. Once, Zofia caught a glimpse of a pair of royal blue socks with the familiar red S against a diamond-shaped yellow background. She is ashamed to say that she had laughed out loud that day, which had been inexcusably rude since, as she laughed, she had been thinking that Dr. Woodward was the physical antithesis of Superman (he is round in every way: short and stocky and bald). But Dr. Woodward hadn’t minded her laughter, probably because he is a kind and forgiving man, very much like Superman in that respect, and probably also because he had been happy to hear a sound—any sound—coming from Zofia. After all, Zofia has been coming in to see Dr. Woodward on Tuesdays and Thursdays for over a year and in all this time Dr. Woodward has never heard her speak.
Interview with Patty Davis
Member of the Alma Social Club—Second Generation. Enrolled in 2010
Let me tell you: we were all blindsided by
