“Escaped early,” I kid—sort of. “I flew home this morning at like six, and now I’m headed to work to put in a few hours.”
“No, it’s your week off, Jenny. And it’s already four in the afternoon.” She sighs. “And your text—are you okay?”
“Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s a whole thing.” I don’t say his name or explain anything.
“Okay, then we won’t.” She’s curious, I can hear it. “How was the trip home?”
“Magical as always.” The pity party for one has begun, and I have to laugh at the week I’ve had. “Judith made sure she let me know that twenty-eight is over the hill.” The memory of my stepmother’s smug expression makes me want to punch her in the throat. “And forget kids, unless I start freezing my eggs now. She had a brochure for it.”
“She did not.” Claire gasps.
“She did.” I press my eyes shut. “And while I don’t want kids, it still stings a little extra today.” The confession is forced and painful.
“I’m sorry, Jenny,” her voice softens.
“Apparently, coming home early from my parents’ was a bigger surprise than I intended on giving.” It’s all I’m about to say. I can’t speak. Tears well in my eyes and my throat feels like it’s on fire.
“Fuck Ben and Judith. You’re successful and brilliant and beautiful. You have amazing hair, and you don’t need a man or a relationship or babies.” She pauses and smiles, I hear it in the tone. “And if you change your mind, then we’ll go freeze our fucking eggs together!”
We laugh. Hers is real and mine is empty, but it’s better than I hoped for.
“One thing though.” I’m serious again. “If he tries to reach you in any way, I do not want to speak to him. And I don’t want him to have my new number.”
“Of course. I’ll spread the word around to the girls, making sure everyone understands he is dead to us.” She’s upbeat and firm, strong for me. I want to be too, but my empty chest burns from its losses.
“Thanks. I’m moving apartments this month, my lease is up anyway. I’m hoping to start the hunt this weekend. So if you hear of anything—” My work phone in my other hand buzzes with a text. “I better go. Stan’s texting which usually denotes some sort of emergency. Last week it was because he couldn’t get ahold of Victor, my boss, and he needed me to spin our way out of a retired soccer star who was caught marrying his sixth wife and not divorcing any of them.”
“How is that possible?” Claire asks with a giggle.
I cover my eyes. “Apparently, he uses a random friend to pretend to be a minister and marry them all, so it’s not legal. His first marriage isn’t even legal. Then he leaves them, kicked out without a cent. They’re banding together now in some ex-wives club, trying to sell their story. It’ll ruin him and he’s taken a coaching job in Madrid.”
“You have the weirdest job.” Claire sighs. “Anyway, are we still on for sushi on Monday? I’ll be home around three Sunday,” she changes the subject.
“Next week? Yeah.” I recall the date we made. “Text when you’re home and safe so I don’t worry.”
“Okay. Try not to work too hard. Good luck with the apartment hunt. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I say, not promising anything as I hang up and my other phone rings immediately. “Mr. Levisohn?” I can’t hide the worry in my tone. Stan rarely calls me.
“Jenny, I’m glad I caught you. Are you on your way into work, on the train?”
“I am, sir. I realize I said I would be there by two but something came up.”
“Get off the train and go back home. I need you to pack for a trip. It’s first thing in the morning. I’ll have a car waiting for you.”
“A trip?” I’m lost. “Where?” I’ve never been asked to travel for this job. That’s something the senior people do. And why today of all days?
“I can’t say.” He’s firm. “It’s a secret location. It’s a secret event. I need you to go in my stead and take care of things.” He sounds distracted which isn’t surprising. He’s a busy guy. “You don’t have to work there, merely be there in case things go south. In fact, I’m choosing you because I think you’ll have fun.”
It sounds weird and his lack of actual answers has me worried.
“Uhm, sir, this isn’t a great time for me.” I close my eyes. “I’m planning on moving my apartment. My lease is up at the end of this month, and I was hoping to shop for a new one all weekend.” It’s not entirely untrue.
“I see.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Does this have anything to do with the fact your personal number has been disconnected?” Stan asks, his tone no longer sounding distracted.
“Uhh, yes.” I swallow hard, terrified. “Sorry, I was going to update my contact information when I came in to the office today.”
I pause and he doesn’t respond.
It’s silent on the line.
I’m speechless.
Do I explain the whole thing and humiliate myself or let him think I’m unreliable in any way? My stomach is aching and sweat is forming on my brow.
“You’re in Yonkers?” he finally asks quietly.
“Woodlawn Heights.”
“Right.” He pauses again. “That’s quite a commute to the office every day.” His comment confuses me.
The train is coming to a stop at Melrose.
“It’s not too bad. It’s nothing to worry about, sir. This will not affect my work at all, and I will take care of it.” I’m grateful for the empty train as I’m sweating and talking too loudly.
“I’ll tell you what, Jenny, you do this favor for me this weekend, and I’ll have a company take care of your move for you—”
“I have to find an apartment first, sir. It’s not until the end of the month.” The whole idea of such a short-notice move is
