The Baby Shower

by Tasha Blue et al.

  “You go to many of those parties?” he asked.

  “No,” Elena replied.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “No.”

  Neal raised his eyebrows but made another attempt at conversation.

  “How about the food? Did you enjoy that?”

  “Not really.”

  Neal took a big bite of his burger and chewed slowly.

  “You’re not much of a talker are you?” he said lightly.

  Elena closed her eyes with a sigh and collected herself.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just preoccupied.”

  “That call you were just on…?” Neal asked, trailing off.

  “Yeah, well,” Elena replied, “every job has its share of problems, I guess.”

  “Oh, for sure,” Neal agreed. “I used to wait tables at Casey’s. It was a zoo in there, and the customers. I’ve never met more demanding customers.”

  “Was this in high school?” Elena asked.

  Her interest in him was growing. She hadn’t imagined that he was the type to wait tables. Her eyes roved over his perfect suit, his expensive coat, his Cartier watch, and she wondered how he had managed to turn things around for himself. She wondered if it would be appropriate to ask.

  “This was a couple of years ago,” he said. “I’ve worked in a few different restaurants, but Casey’s was the worst.”

  “How many different restaurants?”

  “Five,” Neal told her.

  He was beginning to relax. He found that she was easy to talk to, and it helped that she was pretty. He couldn’t help thinking that she had sad eyes, though.

  “Five?” Elena repeated incredulously.

  “It depends on what you’re geared for,” Neal explained. “There are a few department store jobs that were bad, too. I used to work in the shoe department, and trust me – it’s no picnic helping old men and women out of, and then back into, their socks and shoes.”

  “Let me guess,” Elena laughed, “it had something to do with odor.”

  “I’m telling you,” Neal said, enjoying her laughter, “that smell could be weaponized.”

  “Wow,” Elena said amazed, “you’ve been through quite a few jobs.”

  “I have,” Neal said, “keeps my life interesting.”

  “That’s what you do to keep life interesting,” Elena asked in disbelief, her curiosity piqued. “How often do you switch jobs?”

  Neal thought about it. “Every six months – give or take.”

  “Wow,” Elena breathed, “sounds chaotic.”

  “Not really.”

  Elena didn’t know what to make of Neal. He was not like any other guy she had met. She had the feeling that despite his supposed interest in her, if she were to walk away from him now, he wouldn’t mind so much. He would just pick himself up and find another girl to spend the night with. She wasn’t sure if that bothered her or not.

  “What’s your story?” Neal asked her, again attempting to bring her out of the thoughtful haze she seemed to be inhabiting.

  Elena shrugged, “same as most other twenty something year olds.”

  Neal nodded as though he understood, but the truth was, he had no idea what it felt like to scrape together money for anything.

  Elena continued unreservedly. “I graduated, moved to the city to try and prove to my family that I could make it without any help, and here I am, three years later, up to my eyeballs in student loans, with rent to make and bills to pay and no way of making a dent in any one of those things.”

  She fell into a worried silence, and Neal sat there, wondering if he should say something comforting and perfunctory or just hold the silence until she broke it. Elena seemed to realize that Neal had no idea how he was supposed to react. She straightened in her seat.

  “Sorry,” she said, trying to keep the embarrassment from her tone, “that was too much information.”

  Neal smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have told you all that… I guess I just…” Elena stopped for a moment. “I try all the time to hold it together. To pretend like I’ve got everything under control. This is the first time I’ve admitted I don’t.”

  “That’s OK to admit,” Neal encouraged, while at the same time thinking that this conversation was getting too deep for the casual night he had hoped to have with her.

  “Is it?” Elena countered. “I could never say that to my parents… or my sister.”

  “Why not?”

  She shook her head. “Let’s just say… I don’t want to prove them right.”

  “Well, look at the bright side –

  “There’s a bright side?” Elena asked incredulously.

  “Well, you’ve been forced to stand on your own two feet,” Neal said, groping for words that would make sense. “I’ve had my brother backing me my whole life and I’ve never had to practice independence.”

  “Your brother?” Elena asked in confusion.

  “Yeah,” Neal replied. “He was the host of the party we were just at, actually. George Hargrove.”

  Elena looked at him in shock. Neal could tell that she hadn’t realized that he was the second Hargrove brother. He had been through this before. Women becoming suddenly enamored with him the moment they knew he came from a wealthy family. He wondered if he would get the same reaction from Elena.

  “So you’re Neal –

  “Hargrove,” Neal offered, “that’s right.”

  Elena shook her head in an attempt to clear it, “I’m confused – why on earth would you move from one menial job to the next if you own a multi-billion dollar company. Isn’t that job enough?”

  Neal waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t actually involve myself in the business. George handles it all.”

  “… and your jobs?”

  “Are just a way to pass time when I’m bored,” Neal explained. “I don’t need to work if I don’t want to.”

  Elena raised her eyebrows in disbelief. She was trying to remain polite and non-judgmental, but his flippant attitude was starting to get to her. Neal on the other hand, was oblivious to Elena’s growing discomfort with his revelations.

  “So basically,” Elena said in a measured tone, “your brother supports you financially?”

  “Well, I have my inheritance… and my stipend,” Neal said honestly, “but regardless, George is always there to help if I need it. I’m kind of like the pet he never had.”

  “Why on earth wouldn’t you help him with the company?”

  Neal laughed at her question, “God, why would I? I have no head for business, and no interest, and anyway… that world is not for me. I love my brother, I respect his business savvy and his ambition – but I don’t want that life. I don’t want the stuffy parties, the pretentious people, the gaudy chandeliers or the tacky sculptures.”

  Neal saw her face change immediately. All the softness vanished suddenly, and the warm brown of her eyes became solid steel. She stood, and Neal, reflexively, stood too. Elena found herself losing grip. All the disappointment she had suffered in the last few years seemed to meld together, flashing before her eyes.

  She was bitter and hurt and that transformed itself into anger, an altogether easier emotion to channel. She channeled it towards Neal, who stood thoroughly confused about her sudden change.

  “Whoa,” Neal said, wondering what he had said that had hit a nerve, “what’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong,” Elena said through gritted teeth, “is that you are a privileged brat, who has no idea what it means to survive on your own and you have absolutely no concept of hard and necessary work. You scrounge off your brother because he’s kind enough to let you and you probably waste your time and money on ridiculous things like expensive parties and shallow women to distract yourself from feeling like a failure.”

  Neal stood there blinking at her for a moment, so taken back by her sudden onslaught. Elena stood her ground, refusing to take back wh
at she had said, the sting of his words still burning in her ears.

  “What the hell did I do to deserve that?” Neal asked, still reeling.

  Elena shook her head in frustration. “What makes you think you’re so much better than that lifestyle? At least those pretentious people you hate so much, did something to earn it, but you? You stand there, enjoying the amenities of a wealthy lifestyle but you won’t associate yourself with it. You know what you are?”

  Neal rolled his eyes. “No, but I’ll bet you’re gonna tell me.”

  “You’re a hypocrite.”

  Neal nodded calmly. “Well, I think the night’s over for the two of us.”

  Elena laughed mockingly. “So perceptive. They could use that over at Hargrove Brothers and Company.”

  Neal turned his back on her and walked away, still recovering from the sudden turn the night had taken. He didn’t look back, but he heard her call out his name. He paused and turned his head to the side, not bothering to turn all the way around. He was certain she was going to throw another unwarranted insult his way. Elena wanted to walk away immediately so that she would never have to talk to Neal Hargrove again, but hurt pride pushed her to say one more thing to him, before she walked away.

  “By the way, that tacky sculpture you hated so much,” Elena said, “I was the sculptor.”

  Chapter3

  Elena woke the next morning in her studio apartment with the sun blazing in through her thin curtains. She’d put a spare sheet over the windows, but there was still so much light, it woke her earlier than necessary every morning. She turned to her side, putting a pillow over her head, but she was too wide awake now, there was no point in staying in bed.

  She got up and had a quick shower. Then she put her pajamas back on and poured herself a cup of strong, black coffee. She sat in her bed, sipping it and wondering how she was going to make this month’s rent. It was due in a week and she knew she couldn’t count on Mitcham.

  She wasn’t sure he would pay at all, but if he did, his check would clear only after she had lost the apartment. She had trolled a couple of fancy parties, handing out business cards and attempting to sound as impressive as she could manage, but she suspected that they saw her for what she really was – a desperate woman who was on the verge of losing everything. Elena picked herself up off her bed and readied herself for her shift at the café.

  Elena had been waitressing at the corner café for almost a year now. It had been a desperate attempt to keep afloat and still continue her work as a sculptor. She had survived, just barely, in the months afterward, but slowly as her expenses mounted, not even the café job seemed to help.

  Elena put on her black denims and a white t-shirt. She walked to work, her mind still groping for a way out, but occasionally, she would flashback to the previous night and her shouting match with Neal Hargrove. Well, it hadn’t been a match, exactly, Elena had mostly yelled and he had just stood there.

  Elena still felt a pricking anger when she thought about their conversation. Yes, he was spoiled and privileged without having struggled for any of it, but that was not what got her. What had really struck a nerve, was his criticism. He was so careless with his words, so judgmental, and yet he had done nothing to contribute to his own lifestyle.

  He was not responsible for creating anything, so how dare he put down a person who was capable of creating something. His words still echoed in her eyes – tacky. He had used that word. Elena tried to forget it, but the more she tried, the louder the word echoed in her mind.

  Elena went through the motions at the café, refilling the cake stands, stocking up supplies in the back and delivering people’s orders. She went through it all without her usual smile. No one really noticed, she was just another invisible employee in a busy city. The morning shift flew by, and Elena was about to hang up her apron for her lunch break, when a familiar reflection caught her eye. She turned in alarm, to find a well-dressed, middle-aged woman in a pristine smoky grey dress and a grey trench coat, looking at her through her dark sunglasses.

  “Hello Elena,” she said casually.

  Elena sighed. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Looks like we caught you right on time,” Bridget Parker said with a smile.

  “We?” Elena asked, hoping her gut was wrong.

  “Your sister and I were hoping to catch you on your lunch break,” Bridget said, glancing around the café in mild distaste. “how about we find a nice restaurant.”

  It was not a question. She turned and walked out of the café and Elena was forced to follow her. Outside, she found her sister speaking curtly into her cell phone. Emily wore a lavender blue formfitting dress that looked a little out of place on that street corner. She barked an order into the phone and then turned to Elena.

  “Well, hello,” she said moving forward for an awkward hug, “it's been ages.”

  Elena nodded, returning the hug stiffly.

  “Listen,” Elena said, “this is nice of you guys and all… but I only have an hour.”

  “Well then,” Bridget said sharply, “we’d best make a move.”

  They had brought their car. It took only a three-minute car ride to find a small, pretty bistro nestled between two larger restaurants. They parked the car and walked in, settling in at a table that overlooked the street. Elena’s eyes ran over her sister. Emily was slightly taller than she was herself. Her hair was pulled back into a perfect runway French twist. Elena felt bedraggled and messy next to both of them, but particularly Emily. She had suffered through comparisons her whole life, especially after people knew that she and Emily were twins. Un-identical, and yet, people still expected to see similarities.

  Yet there was little that Elena shared in common with Emily. While they were not poles apart in looks, there were enough significant differences that set them apart and enough similarities to assume a relation between them. In personality, Elena was creative and willful. Emily leaned towards pragmatism and tractability, features that had led to her successful relationship with their parents. Elena’s own character had only created distance. She was very aware of that fact, as she sat opposite both of them, with their identical gestures and discerning opinions.

  “What brings the two of you to the city? Elena asked, in her most enthusiastic tone.

  Bridget answered without looking up from her menu, “We were in the city, so we thought we’d stop by and see how you were doing. It has been a long time, darling.”

  “What are you in the city for?”

  Emily smiled coolly at her. “So suspicious, Ellie – I had a meeting with a client.”

  “Ah, yes,” Elena remembered her sister’s new ambitions, “party planning.”

  “Event organization,” Emily corrected her pointedly, “yes, I had a meeting with a client here.”

  “I assume you booked the job,” Elena asked.

  “Of course,” Emily replied in her usual self-satisfied way.

  “Yes, you’re sister has been on quite the roll of late. She’s had several new clients, and they’re all just thrilled about her work.”

  “I can imagine,” Elena replied trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  She saw a quick look being exchanged between her mother and sister. Immediately, she knew that their visit had not been innocent or spontaneous. They had wanted to talk to her about something specific, but Elena knew them both. They weren’t going to bring it up directly.

  “So, darling,” Bridget began, “what’s new with you? What happened to that boy you were dating?”

  “What boy?” Elena asked in genuine confusion.

  “Steven… or was it Stephan.”

  “Simon,” Elena said, “and we broke up over a year ago, mom.”

  “Well, any other prospects?”

  Elena hated the way she said “prospects.” It made her feel like an old maid with no hope for the future. She was also aware that Emily was looking at her with pitying concern that made her feel nauseous.

  “I’m been busy, mom,”
Elena said, hoping to end the topic there.

  “Careful dear,” Bridget said, “you don’t want to end up alone, with no children to occupy your old age.”

  Elena rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t even want children, Mom,” Elena replied honestly, “so that’s not a problem.”