Ouch. “I’m not Dave’s secretary. I’m the office administrator for his very large dental practice.”
“And this is what you went to university for?” her words were harsh, but her tone was more that of someone amused than one trying to criticize. It was my own fault; I had opened the door on mocking my career. Dad looked up from his plate. “Leave her alone, Marion. There is no such thing as too much education.”
Mom threw up her arms. “She needed to go to school for four years to be a secretary?”
I pushed my plate away, suddenly not the least bit hungry.
“Marion, leave the girl alone. We wanted her to get an education and she got one.”
It was like I’d left the room.
Mom turned to face Dad. “Sidney, I just don’t understand her. She goes to school, which was fine if she wanted a big career, but then she goes and works for her husband, which I thought was fine. I thought she was going to work for him until she got pregnant, but now she’s telling me she doesn’t want babies because of her career. She’s not making any sense.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter if she’s making sense. She’s our daughter. Isn’t it our job to support her no matter what?”
I couldn’t take it any longer. “I’m right here, you know.”
Mom turned and looked at me as though I had just entered the room. “What? I know you’re right there.”
“Well, you’re talking about me like I’m not. Can I say something?”
“Of course, honey, go ahead.” She looked at me like I was five and stamping my feet on the floor. I almost wanted to.
“Dave wants kids. I don’t.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “I come home from work after being with kids all day and I never want to see another kid as long as I live. Some nights I just sit up in my room and cry about how much I can’t stand them.”
“Oh, but honey, if it was your own…”
Again with the ‘if it was your own’ speech. Was it on billboards somewhere?
I shook my head. “I don’t think so, Mom. I have no desire in me whatsoever. I look at babies and I feel nothing. Actually, that’s not true. I feel a sense of wonder…”
Mom smiled at this point thinking I was going to do a one-eighty.
I rushed to finish my thought. “I feel a sense of wonder at how women go to baby showers and fall over themselves to change shitty diapers. I don’t get the fascination over this alleged ‘new baby smell.’ Nor do I feel the need to turn my body into a hormone soup just so that I can bring a child into this world. A child who will likely grow up to hate and/or resent me.”
Even Dad was wide-eyed through my tirade, but nothing was stopping me, I was on a roll. I took a breath and continued.
“I don’t get how just because I can reproduce means I have to.” I squeaked out the last part on almost empty lungs.
Mom took the opportunity to squeeze in her twenty cents’ worth. “Oh Vicky, you’re just being selfish. Look at your sister and how happy she is and she never even played with dolls as a little girl.”
“Selfish?” I couldn’t help the saliva that spewed from my lips, I was that pissed. “Selfish is bringing a kid into the world for all the wrong reasons, like because someone else wants me to, Mother.”
“I just think you’re being silly, wanting to be all irresponsible and not grow up the way your younger sister has.”
I swallowed hard, forcing the words that had formed on my tongue to join the bile that threatened to rise from my stomach. Clamping my jaws shut, I glared at my mother, nostrils flaring as I struggled for oxygen at the effort.
Brave Dad intervened. “Now Marion, Vicky has never been irresponsible. I think this is her choice to make and we need to support her.”
I wanted to cheer, but my minor victory was short lived.
“Sidney, I will not stand by here while my daughter throws her life away to be a party girl.”
That was it. There was no communicating with her anymore; she had stopped listening. I pushed the chair back and got up from the table.
“I’m sorry Dad, I just can’t handle this.”
“Don’t go, Vicky,” Dad pleaded and then turned to my mother. ”Look what you did!”
“What did I do?” Mom said, but I was already down the hall, on my way to get my bags.
I could hear my dad scolding her. I couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t matter. Short of imminent nuclear annihilation, there was no way I was spending a night in that house. My only regret was that I hadn’t left my bags in the car and would have to pass by the kitchen again on my way out.
“Vicky,” Dad had followed me into my old bedroom/office. “Your mom didn’t mean what she said.” He was lying, but what else could he do?
“Yes, she did.”
He grabbed my arm. “Don’t go, honey.”
“I have to, Dad. I came here for some support and this is how she treats me? I feel really bad for leaving you with her like this, but I have enough on my mind without having to worry about her adding to my stress.”
“Where are you going to go? Back to Dave?”
I hadn’t thought about it. I hadn’t made it past getting myself and my luggage to the car. But Dad was waiting and I had to offer up a destination. “I’m gonna go crash at Jen’s.” It was really my only choice.
He nodded. ”Your mom means well, you know.”
It was true. Of course, I knew it was true, but that didn’t make what she had said any less hurtful.
“Come here,” Dad said, holding his arms out. I hugged him, fighting back my seventeenth round of tears. Thankfully, my cell phone rang, giving me a reason to break our embrace. I looked at the screen. “It’s Dave, can I have a minute?”
Dad nodded and left without a word, closing the door behind him.
“Hi, Babe,” Dave’s greeting was drenched with concern. “Where are you?”
“At my parents’ for dinner, but I’m just leaving.” I tried not to sound upset. “I’m going to Jen’s to stay over.”
“Why’d you leave, Babe? I came home and you were gone…” his voice trailed off.
“I had to. I couldn’t sit in the house and wait for you to come home like nothing’s happened.”
“I guess I can understand that. I was just looking forward to seeing you.”
“Have you changed your mind?” I asked, closing my eyes and praying for him to say yes.
An awkward pause gave me my answer, but after several seconds, Dave confirmed it. “No,” his voice was almost inaudible.
“Well, then you’re going to have to get used to me not being there.” The words sounded harsh to my own ears, but it was a brutal truth that we were both going to have to accept.
“This isn’t easy for me either.”
I choked on another set of fresh tears “I know.”
For the first time ever, Dave was the last person I wanted to talk to. Actually second last, my mother had earned her way to the top of my ‘to be avoided at all costs’ list. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, but you’d better call the temp agency, I don’t think I can come back to the office.”
“It’s up to you. I’m cool if you want to come back to work, but if you won’t be comfortable…”
I thought of all the single moms who’d trip over themselves once the word was out that Dr. Blumenfeld was single and looking for a new, fertile wife.
No thanks. Mrs. Blumenfeld number one was not interested in sticking around to witness the courtship of Mrs. Blumenfeld number two.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I said before hanging up. I dialed Jen’s number and counted five rings before I hung up and called her cell number; I should have known she wouldn’t be home.
“Hey Vic, what’s up?” the music faded in the background; Jen was likely in her car on her way home from the youth center where she worked as a public health nurse. It was fitting that she be the one to give out condoms and safe sex advice to teenagers. At least she always spoke from experien
ce.
“Can I crash at your place for a bit?”
“Sure, is Dave out of town or something?”
“Uh yeah,” I lied. I’d explain later once we were planted on her couch over a pitcher of daiquiris for which Jen was famous.
“I’m on my way home now, head over anytime and we’ll grab some Thai.”
My stomach responded to Jen’s excellent suggestion by growling loudly, having been disappointed when I walked from my mother’s dinner table and her brisket.
I told Jen I was on my way, happy to finally have somewhere to go where I wouldn’t be judged. I should have known better than think for a second I wouldn’t be judged by my mother; she could have found something to criticize in Mother Teresa.
“Sounds good, I’ll see you there. Thanks a lot.”
“No problem, I know how much you hate being alone.”
If only she really knew. I hung up the phone and dropped it into my purse. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I grabbed my luggage and took a deep breath.
Trying to look invisible, I skulked past the kitchen doorway.
“Where are you going?” My mother asked, her voice a dangerous combination of motherly dominance and shrill desperation. She knew I was leaving and didn’t like it one bit.
“I am outta here,” I said over my shoulder, fearing that if I stopped moving towards the door, I’d be trapped.
“Get back here, young lady, we’re not finished dinner.”
Nice try mother. That tactic hadn’t worked in over a decade.
“Uh, bye bye!” I felt like a kid again, exerting my angst-filled defiance. Well, if she was going to treat me like a child, she really couldn’t expect me not to act like one.
She didn’t bother responding, her own brand of stubbornness already engaged.
“Honey…” Dad said, giving me pause as I stood with my hand on the doorknob.
My stomach growled, reminding me I would be treating it to pad Thai very shortly. That did it.
I swallowed my guilt. “Bye Dad,” I yelled, closing the door quickly behind me.
Chapter 4
“You’re doing what?” Jen’s fork, loaded with noodles halted midway to her mouth.
“We’re getting a divorce.”
“How is that even possible?”
I swallowed, unable to answer.
“Wow,” Jen shook her head. “You guys are like the most…” she shoved the noodles into her mouth, chewing on her food and her thoughts. “I don’t know, stable couple I’ve ever known.”
I looked down at my plate. I had always thought Dave and I would make it, too.
“I mean I could see if Zoë didn’t make it, you know. She’s got a bit of that Desperate Housewives thing going on.”
“Yeah,” I put my fork down in favor of my glass. I took a sniff of the cocktail: orange juice and Blue Curacao, Jen’s only booze left in the house after her last party. At least she had thrown a few maraschino cherries in, making me feel a little special.
“I mean, Zoë’s got those kids and that fuckup husband. But Dave was always so cool.”
Was this supposed to make me feel better?
She jumped up the second a tear broke from my eyelids and rolled down my face to dangle dangerously from my chin. “Oh shit, Vicky, I didn’t mean…”
I couldn’t wave her off before she wrapped her arms around me.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s not you. I haven’t stopped crying. I feel like such a basket case. Will it always hurt this much?”
“Aw come on, Vic. You and Dave will work it out. You and him are the couple that’s meant to make it.”
“It’s not going to happen.” I pushed the plate away to the center of the table and took an ill-advised gulp of my drink. It tasted like shit but under the circumstances, any alcohol would do.
Jen stood up and returned to her seat and her noodles. “Don’t be so sure, Vic, maybe you and Dave can go to counseling or something. What was your fight about?”
“It wasn’t so much a fight as much as a…let’s say…life goals disagreement.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that Dave wanted to start a family.”
“So?” Jen took a sip of her cocktail and cringed. “Oh, this is heinous.”
I nodded, suffering down another gulp, telling myself it was merely a means to an end. “The more he said he wanted to start a family the more I wanted to start running.”
“So you’re not ready to have kids yet. That’s no reason to get a divorce.”
“I’m not ever going to be ready, Jen.”
“What do you mean?”
I looked all around her apartment, anywhere other than at my friend. “I don’t think I ever want kids.”
I could feel Jen’s eyes staring at me. “Are you kidding?”
Was it so inconceivable (pun not intended) that a woman would not want to have children?
“No, I’m not kidding.”
“So because you don’t want to give up the party, you’re getting a divorce from the best guy on the planet?”
Jen’s voice approached hysteria pitch. I looked up at her, not believing that of all people, my single party girlfriend would not be on my side.
“Are you kidding me? You of all people should see where I’m coming from. You would never let anyone pressure you into anything.”
Jen looked at me like I’d just asked her to stay sober on New Year’s Eve. “Pressure me? What kind of pressure? You think Seth is tripping over himself to get me to marry him and have his babies? You think I like being thirty-five and single, let alone the fact that even if I do get married, I will have like a nanosecond to get pregnant before my eggs dry up? You think this is my choice?”
I just stared at Jen, shocked. None of this had ever come up before and I’d had no idea that she and Seth not officially committing to each other had ever been anything other than her idea. What could I say?
“You need to just go home and suck it up. Give him the babies he wants or I swear you’ll wake up in a few years and realize you’ve thrown away the best thing you ever had.”
I tried desperately to swallow past the knot in my throat. It took several tries before I could speak. “I’m really sorry, Jen. I thought you were cool with how things were going with you and Seth.”
She shook her head, joining me in what was beginning to feel like the tear Olympics.
I looked her in the eye and as we stared at each other I saw a look on Jen’s face I’d never seen before: she was jealous. Jen was jealous. My fun-loving girlfriend, who all the married women we knew lived their vicarious party fantasies through, was jealous of my life.
“I can’t go back, Jen. I can’t have his babies. Believe me, if I could, I would. I know that Dave is the best guy ever, and believe me, I know exactly what I am throwing away.” I got up to tear a paper towel off the roll, handing it to Jen before getting my own. “I know how great he is, that’s what makes it so hard.”
“I’d kill for your life, Vic.”
I was about to tell Jen I’d kill for hers but stopped myself. I didn’t want her life; I wanted the one I had. The one where I had a husband who I adored and who loved me. The life where I was employed and financially comfortable, not this new life where I was reduced to couch-surfing and indubitably looking at the want ads. My mom had turned her back on me and now my friend was doing the same. It had been my decision that caused the destruction of my marriage, but I had never expected this.
I began to really sob, the kind of ugly cry that culminated in hiccups. “This is so hard, Jen.”
For the second time, Jen got up out of her chair but this time, I rose to meet her standing. I let her hug me and wept on her shoulder for what felt like an hour. When we finally parted, my friend said the perfect words that she knew would cheer me up. “Come on, I’ll get you another drink and I’ll put in season four of Sex and the City.”
“Thanks,” I mana
ged, sniffling.
“And I’m sorry for making you feel shitty.”
I rolled my eyes. “Shittier…I was already feeling shitty so don’t beat yourself up about it.”
Jen nodded at my still-full plate and I shook my head. She unceremoniously took it away. “Even still, you don’t need me to dump my own bullshit onto you.”
I waved her off, moving over to the couch, aka my bed, so I could get comfortable for the entertainment. Jen’s cat Bacco (full name Tobacco; he was a reward from Seth in honor of Jen’s monumental feat of finally quitting smoking) meowed in protest as I shoved him over so I could sit down.
“I forgive you, although I do not forgive you for the surprising lack of vodka in this apartment. I thought I could depend on you for a little liquid comfort.” I reached out and grudgingly took the full glass of fruity swill Jen was handing me.
“I’ll get some tomorrow, your highness.”
“That’s better,” I joked, moving my legs so she could sit down beside me, the furry and purring Bacco between us.
Sex and the City with a girlfriend and her cat was good, but there was no denying that The Big Bang Theory with my husband was worlds better. Nonetheless, I settled in for an estrogen-enriched evening of mindless entertainment and idle chatter.
Chapter 5
“I’m late. I’ve gotta get out of here.” Jen, my normally laid-back friend had turned into a whirlwind, jogging around her apartment from bathroom to bedroom to living room and back, all in the name of getting to work on time. At first I offered to help, cook breakfast or iron something, but was turned down on all tasks: there was nothing to cook for breakfast and most days Jen wore wrinkle-free scrubs. So I resumed my post on the couch, absently petting the omnipresent Bacco, watching in awe from the eye of the storm.
When she finally seemed like she was ready to go, she stopped at the door and turned towards me. “We’re going out tonight.”
And there it was. I knew it was coming but hoped I could avoid it at least for a few days. “Nah, I think I’d rather stay in tonight.” It was futile, but I had to try.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Vicky. Call Ken and Zoë and tell them they’re coming too. We are going out. Period.”
Life, Sideways Page 3
