Sociable

by Rebecca Harrington

  “What are you doing here?” Elinor hissed at Peter. She poured herself a glass of wine off the sideboard.

  “What?” said Peter. He looked dazed. Elinor could see a fleck of ketchup on one of his sleeves.

  “How were you invited to this?”

  “Well, it’s not like you are the only guest, you know.”

  “I know that!” said Elinor. “But why are you all here?”

  “Well, on Friday, I asked Sean what he was doing this weekend and he told me about this party. I just said, ‘I think I should go too,’ and Sean said yes. What are you doing here? Aren’t you and Mike broken up?”

  “We are! But that doesn’t mean I can’t go to this.”

  “I was hoping to hang out with Mike,” said Peter ruminatively. “Where is he?”

  “He’s not here yet,” snapped Elinor. She reached down to a side table filled with hors d’oeuvres and took a bite out of a filo pastry. It had spinach and cheese inside and was still partially frozen.

  “Well, I hope he shows up!” said Peter. “I was looking forward to hanging out with him. I haven’t seen him in forever.”

  “I hate you,” said Elinor.

  “Why are you saying that?” said Peter. “That is really inappropriate to say to a mentor.”

  “You are inappropriate!” said Elinor. She was going to say more, but Mike had arrived. He was talking to his father and his arm was close to (but not touching) Andrea, who was wearing a long T-shirt as a dress.

  There is perhaps nothing more dispiriting than things going extremely differently from how you rehearsed them in your mind. Of all Elinor’s fantasies about this evening, none of them included Andrea showing up wearing a long T-shirt as a dress. But as she looked closer, Elinor realized that the woman she thought was Andrea wasn’t Andrea at all. She was taller and prettier than Andrea, her eyebrows were larger, and she had a fanciful tattoo above her elbow. Was it a house? Was it a pentagram?

  “Mike is here,” said Peter.

  “I know, I see him,” said Elinor. She watched Mike’s mother walk out of the kitchen (Red Glasses and Bruce were absent) and embrace Mike. She even shook the Andrea look-alike’s hand.

  “I’m going to say hi to him,” said Peter.

  “You are?”

  “Do you want to come?”

  “Yeah, I want to come!” said Elinor. “I was going to say hi anyway.”

  “Okay, well, I’m going now.”

  “Fine,” said Elinor. Peter scaled the room rather quickly, and Elinor trailed behind him, feeling an increasing amount of anger at Andrea’s identical twin. Why was she here? It was so inappropriate to just barge into a family party like this. She wished she could have texted Sheila about it. For the merest second, Elinor grieved the fact that they weren’t speaking.

  “Hey, Mike,” said Peter. He had approached Mike’s right side. Andrea’s clone was talking to Mike’s mother. Elinor was behind all of them. Mike didn’t seem to register that she was there.

  “Peter, it’s been forever, how are you, man! It’s good to see you.” Mike slapped Peter on the back and embraced him around the shoulders. He still didn’t seem to see Elinor.

  “Hey, Mike,” said Elinor, loudly.

  “Oh hey,” said Mike, but not in a surprised way. Maybe he had seen her before but was trying not to make a big thing out of it.

  “I read your piece on Iran,” said Peter.

  “Yeah, well.” Mike ran his hands through his hair. “Sure, the agreement has problems in a lot of ways, but what are the alternatives?”

  Elinor looked at Fake Andrea, talking to Mike’s mother. Fake Andrea had a cartilage earring. Elinor had had a cartilage earring in eighth grade too, but it just kept closing up.

  “How’s Journalism.ly?” Mike asked Peter.

  “It’s great,” said Peter. “I’ve been doing a lot of writing. And I work with Elinor.”

  “Uh, yeah, I know,” said Mike.

  Elinor smiled at Mike. She felt a flush of gratefulness to him for remembering where she worked.

  “Uh, how is it there?” said Mike. He cast a spasmodic glance at Andrea’s doppelgänger, who was still chatting with his mother.

  “It’s amazing,” said Peter. “J.W.’s starting to write an opinion column. It’s called ‘Thoughts and Musings.’ And I’m pioneering our new gaming initiative.”

  “Cool,” said Mike.

  “And I’m doing a bunch of stuff too,” said Elinor, louder again. “I’ve been writing personal essays.”

  Mike didn’t look at her.

  “Elinor has become really interested in feminism,” said Peter. “I’m mentoring her. She was just on TV, so—”

  Elinor felt a buzzing in her ears as if she were tumbling over a concrete ledge.

  “I was just talking about online dating with one of your mom’s friends,” said Elinor, her vision narrowing, her breath becoming shallower. “And just about like, how many disrespectful messages women get when they are just trying to represent their bodies in the digital space. I might write an essay about that.”

  Mike looked at the floor. Elinor couldn’t tell what he thought about that. His eyes were fixed on the geometry of the rug below them.

  “Is it true that Memo Points Daily is going out of business?” asked Peter.

  “What?” Mike’s gaze shot up.

  “I’ve heard rumors,” said Peter, in his oxenish way.

  “I think I would know,” said Mike, sharply.

  Mike’s mother had wandered off toward the kitchen again, and Andrea Jr. stood on the other side of Mike, looking as if she wanted entrance into the conversation. Elinor couldn’t tell if she was pleased this wasn’t actually Andrea or sort of frightened by it. Were there that many people who were clones of Andrea? Did this mean that Mike was dating only people who looked like Andrea? Or was he just friends with them?

  “Uh, this is Fiona.”

  “Hi, Fiona,” said Elinor, immediately and inwardly congratulating herself on her civility.

  “She works at Memo Points.”

  “Cool!” said Elinor. “Do you know Andrea?”

  “It’s a big company,” said Fiona apologetically. She tugged at the arm of her T-shirt dress.

  “Fiona, do you want to get a drink?” said Mike. He steered her away from the group.

  * * *

  · · ·

  Peter and Elinor stayed for fifteen minutes longer at the party, then they took an Uber back together. Peter said he needed to go in the direction of Astoria. Ordinarily, it would have pissed Elinor off that she had to share an Uber with a man she’d told she hated him a mere forty-five minutes before, but at this point, she was too anxious to care. Had going to the party been a good idea? Elinor couldn’t tell. It was good to see Mike’s mother. In truth, Elinor had thought the whole thing would have gone differently. Had anyone even read her viral essay? At least she thought Mike would have. Of course they didn’t need to read her piece, but it did like, go viral. It was weird that no one said anything.

  “Did you have a good time at the party?” asked Elinor, after the car door closed.

  “I did, it was good to see Mike. He’s a good guy. Although Memo Points Daily might literally shut down, it’s doing so badly.”

  “Yeah,” said Elinor, feeling, all of a sudden, like she was going to cry.

  “I had a good ride to the party with Sean and J.W.,” said Peter.

  “That’s cool,” said Elinor, not really listening. She closed her eyes.

  “Is something wrong?” said Peter.

  “It was hard for me to see Mike tonight. I think?”

  “You guys seemed like you were getting along well.”

  “Yeah,” said Elinor. “I mean, maybe we were? So maybe going to the party was a good idea.”

  “I think so,” said Peter. “I think we did some good networking.”

  They rode in silence. Elinor looked out the window until Peter got out at his subway stop.

  * * *

  ·
· ·

  Days later, alone in her apartment eating Chinese food, Elinor got an email from Mike.

  Dear Elinor,

  Good seeing you at the party. I was wondering if you wanted to get a coffee sometime, maybe to catch up? I haven’t seen you in a while and I would love to get an update on how you’re doing.

  Mike

  For months, Elinor had wondered what she would do if she ever got an email of any kind from Mike. Now that it had finally happened, she was numb, but triumphant. Her appearance at the party had worked. Talking about online dating with Mike’s mother’s friends was not an impulsive and tragic misstep but, instead, the instinctive maneuver of a Duke of Wellington. He had missed her!

  It was at times like these she wished she could talk to Sheila, for though their friendship had its downturns and trials, it was ultimately a good source of sympathy. No one else had the ability to say nothing anxiety provoking at all over such an extended length of time. Sheila had a particular gift in that way.

  Elinor decided to look at Sheila’s Instagram. She hadn’t looked at it in the past couple of weeks, out of anger.

  Sheila had posted a new picture recently. It was a selfie of Sheila in her scrubs. And it had this caption:

  Its weird to be sleeping in the hospital as a visitor when you usually work all night in one #imusedtoallnighters #GoRalph

  The location on the picture said she was at NYU Hospital.

  Did something bad happen to Ralph? Elinor clicked on the hashtag #GoRalph, but all that came up was pictures of someone’s wedding in Indiana. She decided to comment on Sheila’s Instagram.

  “Hey! What happened to Ralph? Are you okay?”

  Elinor took a bite of Chinese food and heard her phone buzz. Sheila had responded to her comment.

  “He’s at NYU Hospital for a while :(.”

  Elinor commented on Sheila’s comment. “Omg!!! Is he ok?”

  Elinor’s phone buzzed again.

  “He’s fine, but sick. I’m visiting him now.”

  Elinor decided then and there that she would go to the hospital. Some people would probably not contact Sheila during her time of need because of the petty differences between them, but Elinor wasn’t one of those people. She would go to Sheila now and help her. Because sometimes people need to act. She would even take an Uber.

  In case you were wondering or keeping tabs, these two recent Ubers were relative anomalies. Since she lived in Queens, Elinor had been taking the subway way more. She had basically broken her obsessive cab habit. She had a lot more money now. It was how she had a new pair of boots from Zappos.com. The Uber was simply a treat for her good deed.

  Once she got to NYU’s main building, she walked straight up to the receptionist. The room had the peculiarly rank scent of hospital food even though there didn’t seem to be a cafeteria anywhere.

  “Hey! I’m here to visit Ralph Eisen?”

  “Visiting hours are over?” said the woman. “Sorry.”

  “But I know my friend is here, she just published an Instagram from his bedside, so. She’s definitely here.”

  “I’m sorry. Visiting hours ended two hours ago.”

  “Okay,” said Elinor.

  She texted Sheila. “Hey! I’m at the hospital right now. Are you here?”

  Elinor saw a cloudy bubble with dots in it appear on her phone. She looked at her last text. It was a month ago. She would have been heartless, she thought, if she didn’t feel a stab of compunction at that.

  Sheila finally wrote back! “Hey, you’re here? Me too! Are they being bitches about visiting hours? I’ll come down and get you.”

  “Thanks!” texted Elinor. She included the final exclamation point on purpose to seem friendly.

  Sheila came down the stairs about ten minutes later. She was still in her scrubs. They were pink. She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Elinor ran toward her and hugged her.

  “Oh my god,” said Elinor. “I came as soon as I saw your Instagram. What the fuck happened?”

  “Oh my god,” said Sheila. She walked over to the plastic leather chairs that populated the waiting room and sat down in one. Elinor followed. “This is so nice of you to come. Thank you. I mean, this has just been my nightmare for the last week. And like, two days ago Ralph’s parents were in town and I finally met them. It’s just been so insane. And on top of that I’ve been working. I mean, luckily he’s here, so I can look in on him, but still. It’s just been ridiculous.”

  “So, honestly, what happened? All of a sudden Ralph’s in the hospital? I literally couldn’t believe it. That’s why I rushed here—”

  “Yeah, it was insane. Ralph actually got hit by a bus?”

  “What? What?” said Elinor. “Oh my god, I can’t believe that. What?”

  “I know, it’s unreal. He was just crossing the street and then he literally got hit by a bus. I mean, it’s crazy. He’s in traction. He broke both of his femurs.”

  “Oh no!”

  “I mean, nothing happened to his head, thank god. But he is suing the city.”

  “Wow,” said Elinor. “How did he survive?”

  “Well, the bus wasn’t going that fast. And he was on a Citi Bike. I told him he could sue Citi Bike too.”

  “That’s good.” Elinor imagined Ralph’s body bouncing off a bus like a balloon off a wall. “Listen, I’m so sorry about our fight.”

  “I’m sorry too,” said Sheila. They hugged over the metal armrest separating the two chairs. “I’m so sorry we fought.”

  “I’ve just been stressed lately, I know that’s not an excuse.”

  “I mean, me too,” said Sheila. “It’s been so stressful.”

  “But like, I just want you to know that we are actually best friends, okay? And you are really important to me!”

  “You are really important to me too,” said Sheila. Her eyes filled with tears. Then Elinor’s eyes also filled with tears. Who else could she really talk to? It was Sheila or nothing.

  “But the minute I realized you were here, I immediately just came here.”

  “I know,” said Sheila. She wiped her eyes. “That was so sweet of you. That’s why you are such a good friend.”

  “How long is he going to need to recover?”

  “Probably like, twenty weeks. Do you want to see him?”

  “Can I? The receptionist was like, no!”

  “I’ll just bring you up, whatever,” said Sheila. “I’m actually off my shift now, I was just chilling here visiting. Rowena?” she called to the receptionist. “Can she come up with me?” The receptionist nodded.

  Elinor followed Sheila down a green hallway and into an elevator that went up two floors. Once they got out of the elevator, they walked down another green hall, to a small room. Ralph was lying on an adjustable bed. His feet were held up over his head by small pulleys.

  “Hey, Ralph?” said Sheila. “Elinor came to see you.”

  “Hi, El,” said Ralph. He sort of smiled.

  “He’s on a lot of pain meds,” said Sheila. “They are letting him out of the hospital in like, a week.”

  “Where’s he going to go?” said Elinor.

  “Well, see, I don’t want you to get mad at me or anything?”

  “I won’t!” Elinor looked at Ralph. His eyes were half closed. His chin was as swollen as an overfed child’s.

  “But we’ve just been spending a ton of time together in the hospital, and you know how I was like, ‘Let’s move in, but just as friends,’ before the accident but it didn’t work out for some reason.”

  “Yes,” said Elinor.

  “Well, so we were talking when he came to the hospital and like, immediately he called me, and I rushed right over and we were talking and he was just like, ‘Listen, I want to be with you.’ Like, he actually said that. I wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t say it. So we decided that he would stay at my place, and recover. And I know you said that you didn’t think he should move in, but I just felt like—”

  “No, no
, Sheila. Listen, I get it! I think that makes total sense.”

  Ralph started to snore, very loudly.

  “Should we get out of here and let him sleep?” said Elinor.

  “No, no,” said Sheila. “He’s fine. He’s a super sound sleeper because of all the drugs he’s on. So it’s not even a big deal. So, yeah, that’s what we’re doing and I’m really happy about it.”

  “I’m really happy for you too!” said Elinor, and she really meant it. Of course there was a part of her that didn’t want to say anything after the fight they’d just had—but she also didn’t want to fight with Sheila because it did seem, in a bright, brittle way that almost certainly resembled madness, that Sheila was happy. And how was Elinor supposed to judge what made Sheila happy? Maybe that was actually more feminist, not to judge. There was certainly a satisfaction in her own open-mindedness and changeling opinions.

  “I mean, I can’t even say anything,” said Elinor. “Whatever happens will happen? I mean, Mike actually wants to meet up.”

  “What?” said Sheila. “OMG OMG OMG! What?”

  “I don’t know,” said Elinor. “Should I meet him?”

  “OMG!” said Sheila. “Do you feel like you want to?”

  “I do!” said Elinor.

  “Then I think you should meet him!”

  Elinor and Sheila talked about their respective reunions for about an hour. Sheila was a very attentive and sympathetic listener. It felt good to talk, finally. Sheila didn’t judge her, and she didn’t judge Sheila. That was the best part about their friendship.

  * * *

  · · ·

  Elinor texted Mike as the subway was inching overground, right near a building that had a sign striding across the top of it advertising a law office. The air outside was gray.

  Hey Mike! Thanks so much for the kind words. Yes, I would love to get a drink sometime. Name the day.

  Maybe “Name the day” was a little much? But whatever, she had already sent it. It was probably fine.

  Mike wrote back right away.

  Hey E! Great to hear from you. Are you free on Tuesday? I’m going to be in Queens anyway because I’m going to a drinks thing in Long Island City. That’s where you live, right? I can meet you in Long Island City if you want.