Friday Night Flights

by Susan X Meagher

  “Who’s going to pick her up?” Casey asked as Lisbet started to cry. “I don’t want the blue to stain my wheat-colored jeans.”

  “Stand aside,” Avery grumbled. “I had to push her out of a tight spot a year ago, I guess I can pull her out of one today.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  On the first Tuesday of February, a relatively warm one, Avery dropped the baby at her mom’s and drove to the only espresso shop that opened early. Even though Hudson wasn’t a huge town, she was sure they were big enough for a Starbucks. But there was nearly unanimous agreement from the citizens that chain stores of any kind were unwelcome, and to her knowledge the ubiquitous coffee shop hadn’t even tried to secure a lease.

  All of the other precious little coffee shops worked on a relaxed schedule, ones focused on visitors rather than locals. The spot she liked best opened at ten, a shockingly late hour for people actually going to work. In the store owners’ defense, they would have had to open before six to catch the folks who commuted into the city, and that didn’t make economic sense for the few who made the daily trek.

  One spot, Caffeine High, opened at seven. They pulled a good shot, but the store didn’t have the same welcoming vibe her favorite did. Every local who was willing to pay four bucks for a good cup of joe showed up early in the morning, and she found herself in line behind guys who were clearly tradesmen, with their thermal overalls, coveralls, and jeans making them look like fluffy, butterscotch-colored bears.

  Today was another Short Shorts day, and Avery didn’t technically have to be at her venue until three. But she was always a little wired up on performance days, so it made sense to use that energy to swing by the office to make sure no one forgot what she looked like.

  Standing in line, she started to check her phone when someone said, “Hi, Avery.”

  She looked up to see Chris, Casey’s dad, holding a very short cup, obviously an espresso drinker. “Hi, there,” she said. “Drink up. You don’t want your shot to get cold.”

  He smiled as he gulped it down, letting out a happy sigh. “Couldn’t get my eyes open today. I had to stop for a pick-me-up.”

  “Still busy, huh?”

  “More than ever.” He crushed his cup and gave it a smooth underhand toss, turning away before it hit the trash bin from fifteen feet, clearly confident in his aim. Casey must have gotten the sports gene from him. “Hey, I’m not sure about timing, but there’s a chance I might be able to start work on the house in May,” he said.

  “This May? Like three months from now?” Her heart started to beat faster, with thoughts of having to move so soon making her stomach turn.

  “Yeah.” He nodded, looking thoughtful. “I’m going to be stick-building a house in Germantown as soon as the plans are ready.” His expression grew grim, making him look a little irritated. “I was supposed to have the drawings by now, but they’re really screwing around with it. I figure by the time we’ve signed the contract it might be June or July.” He pulled out his phone and checked something. “So if they’re ready to go in June, I’d have a few weeks to do everything that needs to be done at your place if I started in May. If I had all of my subs lined up I might be able to get it done. You know, there’s a ton of demand for starter homes around here…”

  “Oh, I understand,” she said, even though it sickened her to think of uprooting the baby. “Is there any way you could give me a firm date?”

  “Not really. That’s why I thought I’d better give you some warning. If you find something right away and want to leave quick—no hard feelings. If not, you can hope the architect gets his head out of his butt and gets the drawings for the new house over to me soon.”

  “So I might be able to stay past May?”

  He gave her a very empathetic smile. It actually looked like he might have practiced it in a mirror to try to convey emotions he didn’t naturally possess in abundance. “Sure. You might be able to stay for years. I make a lot more money building from scratch, so if that part of the business gets hot…” He pulled his shoulders up for a brief moment. “It’s all a crap-shoot.”

  “Got it,” she said, having to move up to give her order. “I’ll start looking.”

  “Hey…” He tugged on her sleeve, holding her in place. “I know it might be hard for you to find a new place. So if you can guarantee you’ll be out by the first of May, I’ll let you have March and April for free.”

  “Free?” She hated to be so money focused, but two thousand dollars was huge!

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Have you paid me for February?”

  “No. I pay on the seventh, since you told me to just do it a month after my first—”

  “Calm down,” he said, chuckling. “The lady’s waiting to take your order.”

  She was so off her stride she could hardly recall what she usually bought. After she got herself together and put in her order, she turned back to him.

  “Look,” he said. “I really want this to happen, so I can sweeten the deal. If you’re willing to commit to leaving, you don’t have to pay for February, either.”

  “Damn, that’s tempting, but I don’t know if I can find anything, Chris. It might be worth it to stick it out and hope you start on that other house.”

  “Let me know,” he said, frowning. “Before the seventh if you want to save another thousand.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I’d love to save the money. Three months rent would pay for my security deposit on a new place.”

  “Right. Well, let’s hope you take me up on my offer.” He started to turn, then stopped and gazed at her soberly. “Do me a favor and don’t say say anything to Casey, okay?”

  “Huh?” She blinked at him, then realized she’d been awfully informal with her reply.

  “She’s been riding me to give you a lease, but I’m not going to hold onto the house forever when I could flip it. I won’t have any trouble finding someone who’ll overpay for a stone house—especially if they know nothing about historic renovations.” A big, wry smile covered his face, very similar to one that Casey could pull out when she was in the right mood. But Chris’s had an edge to it that hers didn’t, and this one didn’t make Avery feel charmed in the least. “She can be a real pain in the ass when she doesn’t get her way.”

  Avery nodded, then turned to the cashier to pay for her order. She wasn’t sure who Chris was referring to, but there were few people on earth who were less of a pain in the ass than his youngest child.

  ***

  Avery was in Brooklyn by ten, and she headed over to the office. She didn’t really have anything to do there, and no longer had a desk to call her own, but it was too cold to wander around Brooklyn, even though she longed to.

  She waved at Helena as she rushed to the bathroom the minute she got there. She normally didn’t have to pump at this time of day, but Lisbet hadn’t been in the mood to eat her normal amount, and Avery had been running too late to pump before she left the house, so she was a little uncomfortable. This wasn’t the ideal set-up, but she didn’t mind covering up and waiting in the hall if someone had to take a quick pee.

  She’d just gotten the pump attached when Helena’s voice floated in. “Got a minute?”

  They’d known each other for years, and had few secrets. “If you don’t mind watching me pump, I’m all yours.”

  The door opened and Helena entered. It was a little strange sharing a bathroom with your boss, while your breast was hooked up to a hand-pump, but she’d been in weirder situations. Avery noted that Helena didn’t seem uncomfortable, acting exactly like she did when they were having a meeting in her office.

  “I’m surprised you’re still pumping,” she said, as though they were talking about eating gluten.

  “Usually at lunchtime, since Lisbet is down to nursing three times a day, but she wasn’t very hungry this morning.” She shifted her gaze to the hand pump, which she’d come to hate. “My day hasn’t been great so far, but I’m sure things will turn around.”

&n
bsp; “Maybe not,” Helena said, revealing a sour expression. “Casandra Daniels is under the weather and has to cancel.”

  “Oh, crap,” Avery sighed. “I think she must have stage fright. She cancelled last time, too.”

  “Any ideas for substitutes?”

  She went through the list of writers she knew lived close by, coming up with no promising names. An established writer wouldn’t want to be thought of as a stand-in, and a newer one wouldn’t be prepared. “I think we should just ask Carlos and Eugenie to slow down and take their time. I think we’ll have plenty of audience participation, but just in case we don’t, I’ll come up with some questions to plant with people from the office.”

  Helena smiled. “I’d hope our audience would be able to come up with their own questions, Avery.” She winked as she added, “But having planted questions is a good idea. I’m confident you know what each of our writers likes to talk about.” The fondness Helena held for her was obvious in her warm smile. “You’re very, very good at managing talent, you know.”

  “I appreciate that. Hey, as long as I have you in my office, can you spare a minute for a pitch?”

  “Always.” She took a look at the toilet, but quickly decided not to sit. Even for Helena, that was pushing it too far. Instead, she leaned against the wall and inclined her head. “Let me have it.”

  “Given that nearly every creative person leaves Brooklyn on the weekends, and half of them go to the Hudson Valley, I thought we could have a Short Shorts located up there.”

  Helena looked interested immediately, which was a very good sign. She tended to make up her mind quickly, but getting her to change it was no walk in the park. “This would be a summer thing?”

  “Oh, summer would be a slam-dunk. But I was thinking of making it a year-round event. Actually, I’d like to make this a dual-purpose thing, if you’re not opposed.”

  “Dual?”

  “Uh-huh. Besides attracting new readers from the Hudson Valley, I’d like to focus on more mature writers. I think the world has had enough exposure to thirty-something New Yorkers who can’t figure out how to adult.”

  “How to adult,” Helena grumbled, hating the expression, as she hated every expression coined via a meme or a hashtag. “Agreed. If I never read another story from an older, privileged white man whining about how he’s not as successful as he’d expected he’d be…”

  “Well, I wasn’t thinking of excluding men,” Avery admitted, “but I’d like the lineups to be majority women. I’d also like to bring in writers who started later in life, or have just started, preferably people who’ve had real jobs. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather hear from a factory worker or an electrician than another MFA who’s never lifted anything heavier than a laptop.”

  “Get to work on it,” Helena said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “Let’s not come down too hard on the MFAs, though. You, I, and everyone in this office is in that camp.”

  Avery laughed. “Not true. Freya doesn’t have an MFA.”

  “Having an MBA from Columbia doesn’t make her a woman of the people. But I get your point, and I agree with it. We need to poke our heads out of our literary bubble.”

  “That’s exactly it,” Avery said. “I want to hear from experienced adults who have punched a clock or belonged to a union.”

  “I’m intrigued. I have friends in Cold Spring and Croton-On-Hudson. They’ll have an opinion on whether there’s enough interest in the area.”

  “Oh, there is,” Avery said. “I’ve already got a list of venues in my head, and if we can get this going, we could have a very successful summer.” She smiled slyly. “We’ll work the kinks out in the summer, then keep on rolling.”

  As Helena started to leave, she gave Avery another smile. “If you’re working on it, it’ll be great. I just wish I had two of you.”

  ***

  After she’d finished pumping, Avery called her co-worker Rebecca, who’d started her maternity leave. “Hi there,” she said when she answered. “How would you like to have lunch hand-delivered?”

  “Is this Santa Claus?” Rebecca said, chuckling. “I’m so huge I can hardly walk. Even the kitchen seems too far to reach. In other words, come soon and stay long.”

  “Anything you’re not eating?”

  She let out a wry laugh. “I gave up that battle months ago. If it’s within reach, I eat it.”

  ***

  Rebecca really had packed on more weight than was probably wise, but Avery had nothing but empathy. She was certain she’d try to do things differently if she were to have another child, but Lisbet hadn’t turned out too badly even though her mommy had eaten far too many tacos and not enough kale.

  “I brought quinoa balsamic chicken bowls,” Avery announced. “And sparkling water with a little lemon juice. All natural.”

  “Huh,” Rebecca said, looking thoughtful. “The baby’s going to be puzzled at having so many vitamins thrown at her, but she’ll adjust.” She waddled over to her sofa and sank down heavily. “You know your way around, right? Silverware by the sink.”

  Avery had only been at the apartment once, for a colleague’s birthday party. But the place was so small, and had so few kitchen cabinets, it was easy to guess where the dishes were. “I’ve got it.” Avery took the bowls over to the coffee table and handed Rebecca a fork and a paper towel. “Did you just say ‘she?’”

  “I did,” she said, beaming. “I’ve been so invested in having a daughter, but I was embarrassed to admit that in public. Now I can act like I didn’t care one way or the other.”

  “I convinced myself I didn’t care,” Avery said, “but I’m very glad Lisbet’s a girl. If I have another, I think I’ll care less, but I wanted at least a chance of having things in common with my first.”

  “That’s kind of it for me, too. Having a baby’s hard enough. I didn’t want to have to figure out penises. I know my way around a vulva.”

  Avery lifted her water bottle. “To girls. And to lots of hand-me-downs. I have a couple of shopping bags worth of newborn things at home. Tell people to buy the six to nine month size if anyone asks before they buy you a gift. Then you won’t have to buy a clothing for a year.”

  “Will do.” She took a bite of her salad, moaning in pleasure. “I haven’t had a good lunch in two weeks. This really hits the spot.”

  “Happy to help. My memories of my last month of pregnancy are still fresh. If I lived close, I’d bring you lunch every day.”

  “But you don’t,” Rebecca sighed. “At least for the moment. When I’m not moaning about how I want the baby to come, I’ve been spending some of my free time looking for an apartment for you.”

  “You have been? What do you know that I don’t know?”

  “Well,” she said, smiling like she was about to tout a product she wanted Avery to buy. “You’ve said you want to move back, right?”

  “Right. But I was thinking I’d come back when I found out if Lisbet got accepted to a pre-K program.”

  “Because of how much daycare is, right? Not because you want to be so far away.”

  “Well, that’s mostly true,” Avery said. “But it’s been fantastic to have my support system in place up in the Hudson Valley. I’m happier than I thought I’d be…”

  “Listen to my plan, and you might change you mind.”

  “I’m always willing to listen to a good pitch.”

  “Okay,” Rebecca said, her eyes dancing with excitement. “I have to be in the office four days a week once my maternity leave is over. That means I will basically have to pay for full-time day care.”

  “Which is budget-busting,” Avery agreed.

  “Very much so. But since you’ve already got permission to work from home, we could share child care and have it cost absolutely nothing.”

  “Nothing? That’s my favorite word. Tell me more!”

  “Well, it would require you to be very flexible,” she warned. “But I think it could work. You’d watch both kids four days a
week. Then I’d watch both of them four nights a week. That would let you go out and scout locations, go to readings, and actually have a social life.”

  Avery stared at her for a moment, letting the details sink in. “Mmm. If that was all I had to do, I’d jump on the idea in a minute. But there’s no way I’d get anything done with two babies in my apartment. I’d have to work every night.”

  “Probably true. But I distinctly remember your telling me that your peak alertness time was after five.”

  “That used to be true,” Avery said. “But I’ve gotten into being an early-bird. I’d have to revert to my old ways…”

  “Just think about it,” Rebecca said, with her voice lowering into a seductive range. “Free, high-quality child care in Brooklyn. By a person you know and trust. Whose husband is training to be a pediatrician.” She laughed a little. “Not that you’d benefit from that. It’s not like I ever actually see this phantom doctor.”

  “Free child care in Brooklyn,” Avery repeated, feeling like a spell had been cast over her. “That’s worth…” She blinked a few times, stunned. “I could never have imagined having that.”

  “Well, you can have it, starting in just a couple of months—or as soon as I’m fit enough to take care of Lisbet. If I don’t have to have a C-section, that should be May, right?”

  Avery didn’t want to dissuade her from the wholly incorrect belief that she’d feel fine in six or seven weeks, so she just nodded. “I had a quick chat with my landlord today, and he might need to kick me out in May.”

  “Kick you out? But your lease—”

  “I don’t have one. He’s my friend’s dad, and he cut me a deal on the rent. Part of the agreement is that he only has to give me two months notice. I thought that would be plenty, but…” She sighed. “Just this morning, I proposed doing Short Shorts in the Hudson Valley. I assumed I’d be there this summer to kick it off.”