The Bennet Women

by Eden Appiah-Kubi

  “I feel like I should make some sort of speech or something, but if I start talking, I’ll never stop.” She took EJ’s hands and squeezed.

  EJ sniffed. “I don’t know what to say, either; nothing seems adequate.” She went quiet, thinking for a bit, before making the “live long and prosper” sign with her hand. “Oh no! I’m spacing on the quote.” She giggled. “Just know I’m gonna be your friend forever, okay?”

  Jamie snort giggled. “Oh my God, you nerd. I thought we could get through this without a Star Trek reference.”

  EJ gave a small smile. “You’re my very favorite person that I’m not related to,” she offered. “If you want to see me cry, watch me try and start packing up my room.”

  Jamie raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t started packing?” she exclaimed. Dorms closed in less than ten days. Usually, EJ had everything packed or sold too early and was living out of one suitcase for the last week of finals.

  “I know,” she wailed. “But I have the Fields Fellowship interview at MIT this Wednesday, so I’m focused on that. Then there’s still Senior Week and the Gala. And, honestly, every time I get going, I’ll stumble upon some sort of memento, and I end up weeping into a T-shirt.” She shook her head. “I could use the help of a dear friend.”

  “Of course! Like I’d ever say no!” Jamie laughed. “So how are you feeling about the interview?”

  “My presentation, I’m solid. I’m confident in my Q-and-A period. Now I just have to look the part. I’m going to Boston a day early for hair and nail appointments—I’d love for you to look at my top two outfits before I go.”

  “Anything you need, Eej,” Jamie replied. “That’s what friends are for.”

  THE INTERVIEW AND AFTER

  EJ

  EJ made her way through the lobby of whatever brutalist academic building she was in before bursting into tears. The number of postgraduate uncertainties had been reduced by one: she would not be joining this year’s class of Fields Fellows—not after how everything had just gone sideways in the interview.

  If only I hadn’t lost it in there.

  She hurried to the parking lot, awkwardly half running in her dress heels, and rounded the corner to see both Jamie and Will standing outside her car with bright smiles. They’d come to surprise her. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, and Jamie had a sign that said GO, EJ, GO! It was mortifying. She felt the tears running down her face before she could stop them. She looked at the sign and shook her head. “Can we just drive somewhere?”

  She let Jamie take the wheel and slumped into the passenger seat. They rode in tense silence, until she finally decided to tell her friends what had happened.

  “Everything had gone pretty decently through the presentation. The interview questions were not great but not bad—I mean, I had an answer for everything. The problem was the last question. The youngest guy on the panel—probably some tech asshole—holds up the written portion of my presentation and says, ‘This, plus the models you have there, is a hell of a lot of work for a Longbourn engineer who is also a resident advisor and does all the activities you listed. I feel I would not be doing my duty if I didn’t ask: Did you have any help? Maybe a friend in the program looked it over. A boyfriend even?’”

  “The fuck?” Will exclaimed.

  Jamie sucked her teeth. “I wonder if he asked the parade of dudes they interviewed how much their girlfriends helped?” she said sarcastically.

  “My thoughts exactly. And usually I can let this sort of thing go, but today, I couldn’t hold myself back.” She ran over her flat-twist updo anxiously.

  “So I swallow hard, and I’m quiet for long enough that a couple panel members exchange glances; then I say, ‘I’ll answer the question you asked: My boyfriend is an art history major who uses an app on his phone to calculate the tip on our dinner bill. No, he didn’t help with my project or my presentation. It was all my work, and it was really hard, as you acknowledged, with all my other obligations. But I’m used to it; I’ve been working my tail off for four years. That’s because if you’re a woman, especially a black woman, in the sciences, you never get to coast. There’s always someone asking you to show your work or trying to poke holes in your conclusions. If the work is sound, then they ask if it’s yours. After years of this, I knew I had to submit a project that was wholly mine, from conception to execution.’

  “Then I turn and look directly at the tech bro. ‘Now that I have answered the question you’ve asked, I’ll respond to the one you’re implying: Aren’t you just here so we can say we tried to improve diversity?’”

  She paused and swallowed. “I let the question hang there for a moment. ‘You probably think you’re the first person who has asked, but I’ve had three TAs, one professor, and at least a dozen of my classmates ask me this question in some form or another. Usually, I have a gracious response that demonstrates my credentials without making them feel bad for saying something so offensive to my face. However, I don’t feel like being gracious today. I know how very, very good I am, and today, I’m not staying humble.’

  “‘Instead, I’d like to make a bet with this panel: You’re interviewing thirty people in this final round, correct?’ Someone nods. ‘Okay, if my grades, my résumé, and my project are in the top five—no, make that the top three—submitted, make me a Fields Fellow. Anything less than that, pass on me. Throw out any other criteria: my glowing recommendations, my community service, even improving the diversity of the fellowship class.’

  “‘You may think that is a huge risk, but I know a few things most of this panel does not. You only get this lesson if you have black parents: Talent can get you into the room, but it won’t help you stay; hard work can keep you in the room, but it won’t win you any prizes. To soar high, to get noticed, you must be consistently excellent. That’s how I know I’ll win our little wager. If I wasn’t one of the best, you’ll see this weekend. I wouldn’t have made it inside here in the first place.’ Then I said thank you and left.”

  EJ sank into her seat and dropped her head back.

  Will and Jamie were both quiet. Then her friend said, “That doesn’t sound so bad, Eej. I mean, everything you said was true, and I don’t think you sounded unreasonable. That was a shit question.”

  “Yeah,” Will agreed. “And you said everything else went pretty well. I don’t think that one response should knock you out.”

  “Trust me, it’s not happening. My questioner did not appreciate me calling him out. I’m sure he’s lobbying against me.” EJ paused. “Even though I didn’t yell, I’m sure someone in that room saw me as another angry black woman, too bitter to represent the program.” She slumped miserably in her seat and stared ahead. “I didn’t even find out when they’re posting the winners.”

  Will took her hand and said, “Hey,” until she met his eyes. “I’m not going to tell you to cheer up. But I do want you to know that you. Are. Fucking. Brilliant.” He punctuated his words with a kiss to each knuckle.

  “Those Fields people would be lucky to have you,” he continued. “If they don’t get that now, they will when you’re doing something incredible ten years down the road. Until then, fuck ’em.”

  She smiled weakly (but sincerely) in response and turned on the radio. They listened to Ask Me Another for the ride back to campus. Jamie dropped off EJ and Will at his sublet.

  “I’m sure you kids have a bit of ‘reuniting’ to do. Eej, I’ll drive your car back to Bennet.”

  EJ could only wave in thanks as Will scooped her up in a fireman’s carry and brought her inside.

  “I’ve been dreaming about this,” he said before drawing her into a searing kiss.

  She rested against him when they broke apart.

  “I love your hair, by the way. Your braids are cool, but your afro can do so many things.”

  EJ smiled up at him brightly. “Thank you.” She’d made a point to wear her hair out when Will got back to campus. Hair acceptance was the last hurdle they had to clear. Maya sa
id that no black girl could feel truly secure in an interracial relationship until that happened. As per usual, she was right.

  Will smiled back warmly. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested. “Only to sleep—I know you’re probably not in the mood right now. I’d just like to hold you.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You have my enthusiastic yes,” EJ said, leading the way to his bedroom.

  It took a couple of days of moping and fried food, but eventually EJ was able to put her disappointment about the Fields Fellowship to the side and try to enjoy her last days at Longbourn. It was Senior Week, and time seemed to speed up.

  First was the president’s tea, where a provost congratulated her on making the Fields Fellow short list. “No matter what happens, young lady, you have been listed among the best,” he said before taking the last lemon tart. This was the first comforting thing anyone had been able to reach her with since her disastrous interview. It was enough to help her truly put aside the loss.

  She’d given it her best shot, and if she lost on the fellowship because she’d stood up for herself, then so be it. If she really wanted to work in sustainability, she could just tailor her job search that way. Same thing with working in historical building conservation. Once she calmed down, EJ realized there were other paths to where she wanted to go besides a Fields Fellowship. The most important thing was she now wanted something. She’d ditched the tunnel vision but found a direction for her career.

  After the tea, the events just kept coming: there was Candles on the Quad, the unromantic distribution of caps and gowns, shopping for degree frames, and finally, Senior Gala (which came with much less frenzy than the Fall Formal).

  Jamie wore the green gown from her mother and took lots of pictures. EJ wore a yellow A-line gown that spun beautifully. When she came down the steps at Bennet House, Will looked at her in such an openly loving way that she wanted to cry.

  “You’re so, so beautiful,” he sighed. “And I’m so, so lucky.”

  “How about happy, gorgeous?” she asked. “Are you happy?”

  He kissed her again in a way that helped her understand the concept of swooning. “Deliriously. Ready to go?”

  She nodded. “Let’s go show some pins who’s boss!” They went for a round of pre-gala bowling in formal wear. Will had the best time.

  At the Senior Gala, EJ danced with abandon: her best friend on one side, her boyfriend on the other. She didn’t care how she looked, only the feeling as she moved. This was the promise of college fulfilled. Not the one about education and work prospects or alumni networks and informational interviews. This promise was the one made by movies, and music, and well-meaning adults who told her how much fun she’d have after high school, that one day she would feel young and beautiful and spectacularly alive. That she could unconsciously lose herself in this sea of people. She was the movement of her dress, the roll of her shoulders, and her laughing smile. She was confident and unselfconscious in a way that felt impossible 99 percent of the time. The song changed again. EJ stretched her arms upward, closed her eyes, and kept dancing.

  Finally, she arrived at the day before graduation. The campus became strange, with children and strollers and the occasional dog. Parents streamed in and out of Bennet House, catching glimpses of who their daughters had been for nine months out of the year. EJ’s family (Mom, Dad, Maya, and her cousin Gigi) met Will and Lily and embraced them both warmly. She gave her mother and Lily an anecdote-filled tour of Bennet House when they were supposed to be moving out while Will and Mr. Davis packed her things into the family car. Once they were done, she turned in her keys. She stood on the lawn and took one long, last look at Bennet House.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

  As if in response, her phone buzzed. She had a voice mail from Stella. “Woooooooo!” Her voice was slightly tinny through the speakers. “They just posted the winners on their website. You did it, EJ! I knew you could.” EJ walked to her car and listened with a furrowed brow.

  “Are you okay if I announce it when you walk tomorrow?” Stella asked. “I think it’s a bigger deal than graduating summa cum laude. I mean, laudes don’t get more summa than a Fields Fellowship.”

  Realization finally dawned. EJ dropped her phone and started screaming. Maya rushed out of the car, followed by Will and the rest of their family.

  “Oh my God!” She let herself collapse back onto the grass. “Oh my God.” She repeated the phrase over and over as her very concerned loved ones tried to find out what had happened. She couldn’t say the words herself, so she opened her email on her phone and found the acceptance letter. She handed the phone to Maya, who began to read out loud.

  “‘Dear Ms. Davis’”—her sister’s voice was trembling—“‘on behalf of the selection committee, we are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen as one of this year’s Emerson Fields Fellows . . .’” She didn’t get any further. Everyone else began cheering. Maya and Will each offered her a hand up. Once she was upright, her dad pulled her into a tight hug.

  “I knew you could do it, Little Lizard.” His voice was near tears. Her mom was full-on crying when she joined the embrace. One by one they joined the group hug, offering joyful congratulations. EJ needed them to hold her up. You could have knocked her over with a feather. She’d truly and wholly counted herself out, but she was wrong; she was wonderfully, beautifully wrong.

  SUMMER

  A Surprise

  EJ had been home long enough to unpack from college, but she wasn’t in a rush to do much else. She’d booked a solo train trip up the California coast in mid-June, but everything else was wide open. Right now, her big debate was whether she should road-trip across the country to LA or simplify her life with a five-hour flight and just see the West Coast. Part of her still wanted to do the big road trip, but another part just wasn’t sure if she was up for that much solo travel in the US. She didn’t feel like thinking about it, honestly. Instead, this morning she was outside, weeding her mother’s vegetable garden at the rear of the house. It was pleasantly mindless work that she could do while listening to a theater podcast. She moved quickly, wanting to get it done before the mosquitoes took too much notice of her.

  This peaceful exercise was interrupted by a call to the house phone. EJ dusted the damp earth off her knees and went inside.

  “Hello, Davis residence,” she answered, old habits never dying.

  “Hi, Eej,” Will greeted her.

  She couldn’t hold back her smile. Will just had that effect on her, even though he called at least once a day. So far dating long distance, DC to New York, hadn’t been very painful. They were still together and progressing nicely. She was even getting to know Will’s sister better.

  “Hey, hottie, how are you?”

  “Very well, my alliterative darling—I have good news and bad news.”

  “Oh dear, is the bad news about your Memorial Day visit?”

  “No, we’ll get to that in round two. My bad news is that your front tire looks really low. You should probably get some air in it soon.” EJ shrieked and rushed to the kitchen window with the cordless phone. She saw Will waving from the gravel drive, then shrieked again and ran outside and saw him standing in front of a Winnebago. Will took advantage of her surprised expression to kiss her ferociously.

  “I’ll explain,” he began after they broke apart. “Good news first?”

  “Sure,” she said, sliding her hands around his waist.

  “I’m going to be the host of a new summer show for NBC: Celebrity Karaoke Challenge.”

  “That’s amazing!” EJ exclaimed.

  “Yeah, basically someone on the production team saw that Celine video, which put me on their radar, and then the first choice dropped out last minute.”

  EJ tilted her head and considered. “This is very good news. What’s the bad news?”

  “I have to be on set June twelfth.”

  That was bad news. So far, they’d been able to see each other ev
ery other weekend: meeting in either Philly or New York. “So this will be our first real taste of long-distance dating.”

  He nodded. “Training wheels will come off.” They shared rueful smiles. “But”—Will squeezed her hands and made his pitch—“what if, instead of spending a week in New York before doing your America-by-rail trip, we take this baby across the country, together? If we left in two days, we’d have a leisurely ten for the drive to LA. You could stay with me in Cali and then take your train up the coast. You’d still be able to fly back home in time for your family reunion in July.”

  Reflexively, EJ was going to say that she couldn’t afford an extra couple of weeks in LA, but then she remembered for graduation her parents, uncles, aunts, and Granny Liz all chipped in for a very generous cash gift. They highly approved of the studious striver taking her version of a summer off.

  Instead she hesitated with a question. “What am I going to do in LA?”

  “Disneyland?” At his girlfriend’s flat expression, Will tried a different tack. “You could see the set, meet the staff, quietly stake your claim.”

  She tilted her head again. “I’d like to see where you work, but not in a gross territorial way. You know that.”

  “True,” Will conceded, giving her a squeeze with the arm he still had around her waist. “You could be in a studio audience, maybe for Jeopardy! or The Price Is Right.”

  EJ straightened with interest. Now Will had struck gold. Children without cable grew up loving their TV for two reasons: Sesame Street and game shows. Still, she tried to play it cool and not envision her own hysterical run down the aisle.

  “Let’s say I’m persuadable. What about logistics? Will this be fun for both of us if it’s just the two of us driving?”

  Will stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hm, it’s too bad I hadn’t thought of that—except I have!” As if on cue, Lily hopped out of the passenger side.