The Reverse Commute

by Sheila Blanchette

  “Sophie, no one’s died yet.”

  “I know, I know. I’m just a mess lately. I’m struggling with the meaning of life and what love is. How should I be spending my days? I know it shouldn’t be in a cubicle forty hours a week. But how do I pay the never ending bills?" She paused for a moment, thinking of something. "Do you really believe in 'til death do us part?" Annie nodded her head yes. Sophie shrugged. "Enough of me and my existential bullshit. Hey, I better hit the road. I need at least a half day in today so I’m not working all night this week making up time.” She hugged Annie.

  “Next time you come down Sophie, we’ll go out for a drink. Make that a few drinks.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to that, Annie.” She kissed her sister again.

  THE BACHELORETTE PARTY

  After some steamy lovemaking, they were lying on the couch talking about traveling. They ate all the cupcakes as she reflected on their shared backpacking stories. “The more places you go and the more people you meet, the more things you have to write about. A writer has to have experiences. That’s why I need to get out of my cubicle. The world is passing me by while I sit in the same place every day. There’s got to be more to life than that.”

  “Higgly Piggly Pop.” He was licking blue frosting off his finger.

  “What?” She laughed. “You are the strangest guy.” She kissed his cheek.

  “Close your eyes. I have a birthday present for you.”

  “Again?” But she did as he asked. From the kitchen, she could hear him tearing a roll of aluminum foil. As he walked around the room, she smiled at the thought of it, because she knew he was naked. Eyes still closed, she heard him rummaging around the bookcase. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “Okay, you can open your eyes. Gosh, it’s freezing in here.” He grabbed a blue and green afghan from the end of the couch and laid down next to her, handing her a square, thin, flat package wrapped in aluminum foil as he pulled the afghan over them.

  “I like the wrapping paper. You’re very resourceful.” She smiled as she opened the package. It was a book by Maurice Sendak. Higgly Piggly Pop, or There’s More To Life Than This.”

  “Wow, what is this?”

  “A book.”

  “Obviously.” She hit him on the knee. “This is The Wild Things author. I love that book.”

  “Everyone does. This is an earlier book. It’s about a dog named Jennie who has everything but is still unhappy. She decides the one thing she needs is experience, like you. So she takes off to get some and ends up a famous actress in the Mother Goose Theater and never comes back. Let’s read it. I’ll start.” He read the first page as she rested her chin on his shoulder. When they finished, she sat up.

  “This is really strange and you are never going to believe this, but remember I told you about the four cats. One for each girl?”

  “Yes, and yours was Jennie. I picked this book for more than one reason. It was meant for you.”

  “Wow. Well, Jennie was an amazing cat. The best cat ever. She escorted me down the driveway each morning and waited with me for the school bus. At the end of the day, there she was again, waiting for me to come home. It was as if she knew how to tell time. We had a neighbor with two little babies. She would take them for a walk every day around ten. Jennie waited until they came by and accompanied them on their walk. I always thought she did this because she was lonely while I was at school.”

  “I’m sure she was. Who wouldn’t miss you when you were gone? I know I did.” He wiggled her nose. “She does sound amazing.”

  “Like I said, the best cat ever. One time, my bus got in a little accident. Luckily no one was hurt. Some guy just bumped us from behind while we were stopped at a red light. But of course the police and ambulances had to arrive at the scene of the accident. The parents had to be called. My mother noticed we were late and she came outside. She saw Jennie pacing back and forth at the end of the driveway. She knew I was late and when my mother came out, she started meowing at her frantically.”

  “Seriously? Is this a true story?”

  “No word of a lie. Cross my heart and hope to die. You can ask my sisters if you ever meet them, or my mother.”

  “So where is Jennie now?”

  “My parents got her two months after I was born, so when she and I were thirteen, she just disappeared. Just went out one day and never came back. My mother said cats do that when they’re ready to die. Being cats, they like to be alone. This devastated me, because Jennie was not any ordinary cat and she was only thirteen. I thought about her every night. She used to sleep in my bed with me and now I couldn’t sleep worrying about where she was.”

  He stroked her hair. “I kept thinking, did an owl swoop down and get her? Or maybe a bear? We were in Vermont, after all. People saw bears in their yards sometimes. Or maybe it was one of those awful fisher cats. And if she really did just go off and die like my mother said, where was her body? I needed to bury her and plant flowers on her grave. I hated thinking of her body out in the woods somewhere. I cried for nights.” She had tears in her eyes.

  “Aaaww.” He buried his lips in the hollow of her neck, whispered in her ear. “Maybe she went off somewhere to have an adventure and became a famous writer. I think she went to Hollywood and is writing screenplays.”

  “I like that ending much better.”

  “You could write it, the better ending. Write a children’s book. I draw you know. I could illustrate it.”

  “That’s a great idea, the better ending. I like that.”

  “I think you need to quit your job. With all these writing projects you have, you don’t have much time to work.”

  * * *

  The following Saturday morning, she was on a plane to New Orleans. Nick’s sister was getting married Memorial Day weekend and she was one of the ten bridesmaids. Ten bridesmaids. That’s insane, isn’t it? Who did Nick’s sister think she was? Kate Middleton?

  The bachelorette party was planned around the Mardi Gras celebration on Tuesday. The other nine bridesmaids flew home Wednesday, but from New Orleans she was going on to Dallas to visit Nick. He bought her the ticket.

  Although Nick had only been in Dallas three weeks, he was offered a full time job with a big promotion and a raise to match his new status. Although he didn’t really want to leave Boston, he said he couldn’t pass up this opportunity of a lifetime. She thought he was mocking her. It felt like a dig when he said it.

  He wanted to show her around Dallas. He also wanted to start looking at condos. The plan to buy the condo had been moved up by a couple of years. With the raise and the cheaper housing costs, he could buy it now, without her help. Clearly he’d been a lot more disciplined with the savings plan. But, despite her improvidence, Nick wanted her to join him in Texas.

  Staring out the window at clouds that went as far as the eye could see, she imagined herself lying on her back, floating through the blue sky, bouncing across their white, billowy tops, back to Newburyport and that comfortable bed above the garage that felt like sleeping on a cloud. It was heaven. Her thoughts strayed as she returned to the rest of last weekend and the boy she met on the train. She stayed in Newburyport until Monday morning.

  After she told him about Jennie, he pulled the illustrations out from under the coffee table and showed her his drawings. His Aunt Helen was writing a children’s book. She babysat for a family in Newburyport who owned an import/export company, traveling for business quite often. Their little three-year-old daughter was named Katrina. She had bouncy blond curls and a baby brother who was four months old. Very mischievous, she got into all sorts of trouble, blaming it on her imaginary friend Alice. When Helen asked about Alice, she said Alice lived on the bottom of her shoe and popped out every once in a while to do naughty things.

  His drawings were really good. He felt he was having a hard time with the imagery of Alice coming out from under the shoe, but she thought they were great. He picked up a blank piece of paper and did a rough pencil sketch of
a cat sitting at the end of a driveway. Tucking it in the book he gave her, he said, “For you. You better get writing.”

  As the stewardess came by, she snapped out of her reverie and ordered a Bloody Mary. Why not? She was using a week of vacation for this trip, so that left her only one more week for the rest of the year. Mardi Gras would be fun despite the fact she didn’t get along with Nick’s sister. Olivia could be very demanding and high maintenance. She had an entitled, elitist attitude, brought up as the only girl in a wealthy family, used to getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it.

  Her mind drifted back to her birthday weekend. He showed her around Newburyport, a quaint New England seaport town. She loved all the shops and restaurants and the pretty little harbor. They met friends of his for dinner, two guys and a girl he knew since high school who seemed to know all about her, were eager to meet her and very happy for him, so he must have told them nice things. Later that night, when they got back to the apartment, they watched Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. He told her he was a big fan of old movies, which she thought was amazingly awesome.

  Sunday they slept late, he made eggs benedict for brunch and they flew a kite at the beach on Plum Island. He brought a cooler with beers and chicken parmesan sandwiches. It was an unseasonably warm day for early March. She thought it had to be one of the most perfect days of her life thus far.

  Monday morning he packed her a lunch, a ham and cheese sandwich, an apple and chocolate chip cookies then drove her to work. When she kissed him goodbye in front of her office, she knew she was going to miss him. Eating lunch at her desk that afternoon to make quota on the articles due that day, she smiled when she found a note in her lunch bag. Hope you're having a great day. Keep smiling. She sent him a text. Thanks for lunch and a lovely birthday weekend. I miss you already. Her phone quickly buzzed back. Miss you too. It was going to be a very long two weeks until she saw him again.

  * * *

  At the airport in New Orleans, she grabbed a cab to the Ritz Carlton. Many of the bridesmaids were coming in from Long Island where Nick and his sister Olivia grew up. Others were from New York City and various other places they moved to since graduating from Sarah Lawrence with Olivia.

  The cab dropped her at the curb in front of a beautiful, stately hotel. A doorman greeted her and a bellhop took her luggage. She scrambled for small bills so she could tip them. She hadn’t thought of that. The lobby was exquisite with marble floors, chandeliers and French doors leading to a quintessential French Quarter courtyard with wrought iron tables, fountains and palm trees. She had never stayed in a hotel like this before and she imagined her credit card flexing its muscles in her pocketbook, just itching to get out and start earning interest. Out of singles, she hoped she didn’t have to tip anyone else.

  At the reservations desk, she received her key and a note written on expensive stationary. The receptionist let her know her roommate already checked in. She knew her name was Nan and she was one of the Long Island girls, a friend of Olivia’s from Oyster Bay. They emailed each other a couple of times. The note was from Olivia and said, in very fancy script:

  We are all meeting in the courtyard. Check into your room, freshen up and join us for cocktails.

  Her room on the sixth floor had two double beds with beautiful Frette linen bedding and a view of Bourbon Street, a block away. She quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth and tied her hair in a loose knot on the top of her head. She was wearing a colorful print skirt she bought in Mexico. When she lived in Oregon, she and Katie drove the Pacific coast through California, down to Rosalita Beach in Baja. She added a white cotton blouse with embroidered flowers around the neckline, silver hoop earrings and five silver bracelets also purchased on that trip into Mexico.

  The last to arrive at the courtyard happy hour, Olivia introduced her all around. She hoped she’d remember everyone’s name, so many of the girls were thin and tall, with long blond hair. Nan, her roommate, had dark hair and a beautiful face, but was definitely carrying several more pounds than anyone else in the wedding party.

  She sat next to Nan and across from Olivia. The girl to her other side, Zoe, had just been hired at Goldman Sachs in New York. Everyone was asking her questions all at once.

  “So you live in Boston with Liv’s brother Nick? He’s so handsome.”

  “Yes, we’ve been living together for almost a year and a half now.”

  “When are you moving to Dallas? You must miss him.”

  “I’m not sure if and when I’m moving to Dallas.”

  “What do you mean you’re not sure? He’s quite the catch.”

  “We heard this promotion and move were so sudden, but what an opportunity for your future.”

  Was she the only one who saw opportunity differently? “Yes, but the timing couldn’t be better.” She laughed nervously. What did she mean by that? She better be careful. When she was nervous, she had a tendency to say too much. If she drank too much, she could let something slip. She waited to order another cosmo.

  “Where did you go to school? Oh that’s right, you met Nick at Tufts.”

  “Where do you work? What do you do?”

  “A company in the suburbs. I’m a lowly copy editor.”

  “Ha, Olivia said you were self deprecating and very funny. This weekend is going to be so much fun.”

  “She said I was self deprecating?”

  “I love your bracelets, very bohemian. And those shoes, are those Manolos?”

  She looked down at the silver heeled sandals she was wearing. “I don’t know what they are. I bought them at Marshall’s.”

  “Ha, you’re going to be a fun one. We heard Nick thinks you’re a bit wild but that seems to turn him on. He always likes a challenge."

  "Well ladies, let’s get going. Is it time for the French Quarter and Pat O’Brien's?”

  “Huh? He said what? I’m wild? I am really not that wild. Not at all.”

  * * *

  At two in the morning, back in her room, she sat on her bed while Nan changed in the bathroom. They spent the evening at Pat O’Brien’s then walked around the French Quarter, the sound of jazz spilling out of the numerous open-air bars. Most of the girls drank hurricanes so they could accumulate a full set of the tall souvenir glasses they were served in. Dan warned her about them. He said they were mostly sugar and would give her a nasty hangover, so she steered clear of them and instead drank beers, which were cheaper anyway. She knew her credit card was taking a heavy hit that week.

  A block before the hotel, Zoe dropped her bag of four hurricane glasses, shattering them all. She was stumbling and very drunk, slurring her words, but four hurricanes could do that to even the most accomplished drinker. They all consoled her and said they’d go back the next night for more. She wasn’t looking forward to that crowded tourist trap again. Hopefully, they could see some awesome live music before leaving New Orleans.

  Nan came out of the bathroom and climbed into the other bed. “Did Olivia give you the Countdown to I Do diet?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I got a note from her when I checked in, but that was just to let me know you were all in the courtyard. What is the Countdown Diet?”

  “It’s like a South Beach/Atkins kind of thing. It’s so we all look smashing, her word, in our bridesmaid dresses.”

  “You’re kidding? She’s putting us on a diet?”

  “Well, maybe you didn’t get one. You’re so tiny. That’s why I was asking. I think I’m the only one. Maybe Amanda, but I’m not sure.”

  “What a bitch.” She quickly slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Nan laughed. “I was so glad when I heard I was rooming with you. She is a bitch. I think she only asked me to be a bridesmaid because she wanted ten and my Dad is a partner in her Dad's firm. I’ve known her since we were babies, so she was obligated to ask me. But I’m going to ruin the photos if I don’t lose at least twenty pounds.”

  “Twenty pounds? Get the hell out of here.” Sh
e covered her mouth again. “Oops, I’m sorry. I don’t usually talk like that. But that’s just ridiculous. She is a fucking bitch.” They both started laughing hysterically. “This whole thing is ridiculous. Five days at the Ritz Carlton? The dress is already costing me three hundred dollars. When did people start doing this bachelorette party thing? I thought we just had to go to some stupid shower on a Sunday afternoon and give her some towels or sheets.”

  “Oh, we have to do that too.”

  “Ugh, I hate all this stuff. I can’t believe she made us wear those crowns tonight and the matching T-shirts. Really?” She leaned over and picked up a gray T-shirt she tossed on the end of her bed, the word Bridesmaid written in pink script lettering across the front. She held it up to her chest then crumbled it up and tossed it towards the wastebasket at the desk. She landed the shot, raised her arms and clapped her hands above her head. “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you going to marry her brother? My dad said everyone seems to think so.”

  “No way. I am not marrying anyone. I have too many things to do. I want to quit my job and travel. I want to get serious about writing. I don’t want to be someone’s wife, especially Nick’s. And don’t feel bad, Olivia only asked me to be in the wedding ‘cus I’m going with Nick, and she needed those ten bridesmaids. I think there is something celestial or biblical about ten virgins, or something like that. I don’t know the details but I read it somewhere.”

  “Well that’s a good thing, because from what I hear my parents say, the DeLuca’s are nervous about Nick settling down with you. They're stressing over the fact that you might be moving to Dallas.” Now it was Nan who slapped both hands over her mouth. “That’s not true. I’m just a little drunk from those hurricanes. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “I’m sure it’s true. I know they don’t like me. Too bohemian, that’s Mrs. DeLuca’s word and I’m too opinionated. I have liberal, subversive opinions. I don’t have what it takes to be a corporate wife and helpmate as Mrs. D calls it. They think I have no ambition. But I do have ambition, just not the kind they're looking for. You know when people say, who are they? As in, they say you should get a degree in business. They say this, they say that.”