Rod continued. "So, let me ask you, something, Elyse. How many appointments did you book this week? Were you able to get any of your old customers in from Lady Borghella's, over at Black's?"
Elyse burned at being so blatantly put on the spot. "Well, no, not exactly, Rod. I did get hold of a couple of our customers this week. But, not from Borghella's--no. I got a few in when I first started here, but after that..."
"But I thought you had all these rich customers from when you worked there? Didn't you say that during your interview? Didn't you promise to bring in all these ladies from when you worked over at Black's before?"
Elyse hedged defensively. "I'm not sure I actually promised I could get them here... I mean, I've certainly called them, even got a few to come in and try our line. Actually, I think Dylan might have promised more of what I could do when he brought me in."
Elyse glanced at Judy for support, since Judy had seen her on the phone all week calling customers. But Judy wouldn't look at her now.
Rod continued. "Well, as you know, we've been having a heck of a time making ends meet here. We're in a major financial crunch this year. I've made it pretty clear we need to get some new business in if we want to go on."
Elyse's eyebrows rose defensively. "I've been doing all I can, Rod. I go through the files and call people religiously. I've even cold-called names in the phone book."
"Yes, but we need new business," Rod emphasized.
So, Elyse thought, Rod is trying to blame me for their lousy numbers! Oh, this is rich.
In fact, Elyse had gotten former Borghella customers over to her new digs and shown them the Make-Up Place line when she first started. Over time, however, she discovered her new products were no match for those of the venerable Italian house of beauty. The Borghella fragrance, skin care and cosmetics line ultimately won out over the Make-Up Place, with its high-end appeal and pretty, pricey packaging. Plus, there was no fighting Borghella's free gift with purchase. Elyse had done her damnedest to sell prior customers any and everything she could for the Hoffenzimmers, but, in the end, she had to concede to the bigger dog in the market place.
As Rod hemmed and hawed, a sense of doom hovered over Elyse. She wasn't about to make false promises now just to appease him, and she also figured if she spoke further in her own defense, she'd only make herself look bad. So she remained quiet and awaited her boss's next move.
Rod scratched his neck and glanced over at his wife. Judy glanced at him and away, back to wiping down the counter.
Elyse felt insulted by Rod's accusatory manner. In fact, she hadn't done anything wrong and resented being made to think so. As a matter of fact, standing there like a criminal on trial was starting to piss her off.
Screw it, I'll make a move and break the impasse.
"So," she said in a falsely chipper voice, "I guess I'll just go put my stuff in the studio then."
As anticipated, her statement provoked Rod to action. He gestured her to stop.
"The summer's never an easy time," he said, looking out the window rather than at her. "But the fact is, we have to cut costs, Elyse. There's just no other way. We can't afford to keep a full-time employee on at this point. We'll just be hiring freelancers from now on, on an as-needed basis. Which means, I'm afraid, we have to let you go."
A sudden jolt of adrenaline seared her chest. I'm being fired!
Her skin grew hot, and her blood flow constricted. Her eyesight blurred, and she feared she might pass out. Her saving grace was the sense of outrage she felt, which held her erect. She'd never been fired in her whole life before! Wazinskis didn't get fired--they worked hard, did their best and were duly rewarded. What in heck was going on here? Where had that premise shifted?
Feeling completely out of time and space, an eternity seemed to slip by while she absorbed the shock of this new reality. Rod shifted his weight from one foot to the other trying to hold a tough-guy expression on his craggy face. When Elyse glanced over at Judy, she turned and started rummaging through her purse.
Elyse burned with anger but refrained from lashing out. She swallowed and waited. A moment later the anger morphed into sadness and she felt hurt.
"Wow," she said.
Judy flung around and spoke up fast. "We're sorry about this, Elyse. We really are."
Rod shot her a dirty look, as if that was the dumbest thing in the world to say.
Elyse's hurt feelings shifted, yet again, as her survival instinct kicked in, and self-preservation became the essence of the moment.
"Well, gee, Rod," she said drily, "thanks for the warning."
"Now in all fairness," Rod explained, "we just recently realized we had to make this decision."
After what Carla had told her about the Hoffenzimmers' penchant for cutting staff every summer, Elyse knew he was lying. As a result, her anger burned again. Realizing her current source of income had now expired, with minimal savings in the bank, she acted fast.
"So," she asked in a lethal-sounding voice. "I'm done, just like that? You expect me just to just go now--without my pay for the day? I count on that money you know. I planned on having that cash today, and I kind of need it to make ends meet."
Rod and Judy glanced at each other. Judy wore a guilty expression. She spoke up before Rod had the chance.
"Well, of course we were gonna pay you for today. We planned on paying you before we drove back to Westport. It's only fair."
"Oh, great," Elyse said, relieved. "I appreciate that."
Rod, however, did not look pleased. As a matter of fact, he looked like he wanted to smack his wife across the head.
"Okay," Elyse said as lightly as she could, "well, while you get my pay together, I'll go get my stuff from the studio."
But alone inside her studio, Elyse could barely contain how upset she was. The reality of the day came crashing down on her with a blend of mixed emotions.
She pulled an extra pair of shoes from out of the closet and thought how glad she'd be never to breathe the fetid, dusty air of this unclean environment again. Its dirtiness had made her increasingly miserable with every passing day.
But, then again, this unexpected change of events would put her in a financial pickle. Summer in the city was the worst time of year for finding work as a retail makeup artist, and she had just enough saved to get through the month. She shook her head and collected her belongings.
I'll think about that once I'm the hell out of here!
But then she teared up at how awful it felt to get dumped. In truth, she'd never thought her bosses were too bright. And from what she'd observed, they certainly were lazy. But she was now a victim of their dumbness and sloth.
She suddenly wished she'd gotten out with dignity sooner, had taken the time to pound the pavement in search of a new job. Ah, well, hindsight is always clearer. Sometimes we wait too long in making our move!
She pushed away the image of the first tarot card and thought of Keb, and how he'd told her to be kinder to herself. She smiled when she remembered him holding her in his arms, and how safe she had felt that day in the park. He would tell her to stand tall and leave with dignity. But after a moment, a feeling of utter failure overwhelmed her, and she dropped to the dingy sofa in tears. Almost as quickly as she began, however, she pulled herself together. She would not give the Hoffenzimmers the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
She jumped up, snatched a tissue from the box by the mirror, and looked at her own reflection.
Choke it down, Wazinski, choke it down! You can cry when you get home.
Once she'd regained control, she dabbed at her eyes and snatched up her handbag. Pulling it over one shoulder, she stuffed her smelly old work shoes inside a plastic bag, grabbed the satchel holding her own personal tools of the trade and, without so much as a backward glance, swept out of the studio for good.
On her way back to the storefront, however, she overheard Rod grumbling to Judy and stopped by the corner to listen.
"I thought we were just gonna be done and
leave for the picnic at my mother's!"
"We'll make it in plenty of time, Rod. It's only fair to at least pay her for coming in--"
"Since when did you start making executive decisions around here?"
Judy's voice grew quieter and more lethal. "If I'm not mistaken, this business is now in my name."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Take it how you want to, Rod. But legally it's in my name."
Rod sounded deadly when he said, "Is that some kind of threat, Judy?"
Their pedantic argument gave Elyse all the impetus she needed to leave without further delay. She rounded the corner faking an upbeat attitude.
"Well, I've got everything of mine right here."
She faced Judy from the other side of the counter. Rod slinked off to the opposite end. Judy looked blankly at Elyse as if she'd forgotten what to do.
"My pay, Judy? I'll just take it and be on my way, thanks."
"Oh, right, your pay."
Judy snatched up the bills she'd laid out by the register. "There you go, Elyse."
"Thank you, Judy."
Elyse counted the bills quickly and stuffed them into her purse. The trick, she decided, was to get out without crying or yelling, because she was starting to get upset again.
Laden as she was with her handbag on one shoulder, her big satchel on the other plus carrying the bag with extra shoes, she had quite a time pulling the heavy glass door open. She was trying to squeeze through from a bad angle and hadn't opened it wide enough. Increasingly angry and frustrated, she started seeing red. Then the satchel slid off her shoulder and caught the inside of her elbow, pinching the delicate skin there. She winced in pain and caught herself. She would not let them see her cry.
She finally managed to heave the door wide enough to get in the vestibule just outside. The door closed faster behind her than she'd expected, however, causing her plastic bag of shoes to whack her on the butt. Pushed rudely from behind thrust her forward. A silent scream caught in her throat as she lurched against the outer door and the bag bumped her in the butt yet again.
Finally, she made it outdoors burning with embarrassment. She let out a big, "Harrumph!" on the sidewalk, but when she stopped and thought of her inharmonious exit, she broke out in giggles. And she laughed all the way up Fifty-Fifth Street to Seventh Avenue.
By the time she'd reached the subway stop, however, her mood had swung to the extreme and she was all-out crying. Mercifully, most tears were hidden by her sunglasses. Gurgling with anger and frustration at the Demented Duo who had just let her go, she fought for self-control at least until she got home.
* * * *
Buzzing from her afternoon binge, Elyse emptied the last drops of chardonnay from the bottle into her glass. Propped up on an elbow by her living room window, she watched an L.L. Bean-clad couple across the street below. She chuckled when they finally managed to jam tennis rackets into an already overstuffed roof rack atop a fat SUV. Her chuckles gave way to tears when she thought how lucky they were to have each other to go away with this weekend.
The aftermath of her pride wounded by the ungracious Hoffenzimmers had given way to an almost unbearable loneliness. The task of finding a new job after the Fourth of July also weighed heavily upon her. Temporarily immobilized, she sipped her wine and stared at the city street outside, where activity had all but vanished.
Watching the couple start up their SUV, the notion of moving back to Connecticut occurred to her. Maybe she'd move home to the shoreline for the summer and get a job. The comfort of living at home would help her past the feeling of failure that currently plagued her.
Hmm, this might be a plan to consider...
But, then again, there were plenty of reasons why this was not such a great idea.
She'd either have to sublet her apartment or break her lease, if she went back to Connecticut. If she broke the lease, moving back to the city would be all the more difficult, later on. But, sub-letting it would be tricky, too, since it was illegal to do so, according to the fine print. If she let her place go, she'd be hard-pressed to find a rent she could afford when she was ready to return, with the inflated cost of rentals in the city. Of course, more jobs would be available in the fall, and she would have saved money by living at home. But, then again, she'd sold her car.
Mother Wazinski's I-told-you-sos were also a strong opposition to this plan.
Her thoughts twisted and turned like noodles inside her brain, growing increasingly complex and leading nowhere. Helpless to do a thing at the moment, she decided to let it all go. The only thing that really matters, right now, is the rest of my wine.
An unexpected blast of sound gave her a jolt, and she almost knocked her wineglass over.
That would have been a travesty!
When she realized it was the ringing of her telephone, she let the answering machine pick up and gazed back out the window. But Keb's voice made her straighten.
"Hey, I got a little break," he was saying. "Tried your cell, but no answer. I just thought--"
She flew across the room and grabbed the receiver.
"Keb! So good to hear your voice!"
"Hey, you're there--I wasn't sure if you'd be at work or not."
"Well, actually, I was."
"Did they close early for the holiday?"
"Well, they closed, yeah..."
"You going to Connecticut?"
"Yes. Tomorrow morning. Big family picnic there."
"Right! What--staying in town to watch fireworks from somebody's rooftop, maybe?"
Elyse's throat constricted with emotion. "I...I..." As tears welled, she lost the fight to rein them in.
"Elyse? You okay?"
"No," she said meekly. "I'm not okay."
"What's the matter? What's going on?"
"Oh, Keb..." The floodgate for tears opened again and she started to cry. Between sniffles, she explained.
"So, I, I went to work this morning. Not like I wanted to, because I knew it was going to be dead with the holiday weekend. But Rod said we'd get tourist traffic in, so, okay, I go to work. Then, when I get there, he and Judy are both in, which is really weird. And then he tells me how they have to cut costs, and that means letting me go!"
A gush of tears threatened to cut her story short, but she forged onward. "Which, I guess Carla tried to warn me about, only I didn't quite get what she was saying. But, apparently, they've done it in the past, and now--they did it to me!"
Having told her terrible tale, she felt relieved, but cried, nonetheless.
"So, wait a minute," Keb said. "They fired you? With no warning--Fourth of July weekend?"
The outrage in his voice made Elyse feel better. She sniffed, swallowed, and let out a little snuff of laughter. "Yeah."
"Oh, that's nice," Keb flatly. "Very nice. Fuckers!"
Elyse chuckled. "I know. Right?"
"Some people... Okay, so, hey, look at it this way... It's Independence Day, right? So, you're now free of those numb-nuts. They weren't the sharpest knives in the drawer anyway, right?"
Elyse wiped her nose and let out another little laugh. "No, they weren't."
"Okay, so, you're free of them. Happy Fourth of July, kiddo!"
"Yeah, sure. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade."
"Right. Exactly."
Having gained perspective for the moment, she calmed down.
"So," she asked, "how're things with you?"
"Good. Great! It's intense, though, a lot of work. After this weekend, it's gonna kick into high gear. I'll be completely consumed--which is hard to imagine, since it's practically all I think about now."
"That's so good for you!"
"So, but, wait--what are you gonna do, Elyse? Find another job?"
Heartburn seared her chest as mild panic threatened, again. "Shit, Keb, I have no idea! I was just thinking about running home to my family for the summer. So not my style, but I don't know what else to do. There's not much in retail cosmetics here this time of yea
r. 'Course, you never know. I'll have to look around."
She heard a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. If she wasn't mistaken Keb's mental wheels were turning almost three thousand miles away and she could sense it!
"Okay, Elyse, I have a proposition for you."
The hairs on Elyse's arms and neck stood.
"Yes, Keb?"
"Now, listen... I can get you work on set. You can start making connections that way. Learn what you have to do and all that."
"Right, okay."
"I can't get you on as a makeup artist yet because it's all union. But I can get you in to assist and help out."
"Like, a gofer?"
"No, more like an apprentice. I can get you on the payroll, and you can start to learn the biz. If you can be flexible, I can get you on as a PA. Production assistant. Keep you employed for a while if you don't mind doing that kind of thing."
"Oh, Keb, that'd be wonderful--I'd love to! Whatever you need, I'll do it. I don't' know what to say--besides, 'Thanks for saving my life!'"
"Just say you'll be on time and help me, around the clock, when the going gets rough."
"Of course! But where will I stay?"
"With me, of course. I have room."
Elyse forced back a scream of joy, then yelped anyway.
"So--I'll have a job--and I can stay with you, too?"
"Yup." Keb laughed. "I hope we know what we're doing here."
"We do, Keb, we do! You know I work hard. I'll do whatever I can, whatever you need it. This is what I've wanted... Oh, this is awesome. I can't wait!"
"You're lucky I love you, girl."
"You love me, Keb?"
"Hello? Why else would I be doing this?"
"Whoa...I am lucky then."
"From the first time I saw you."
"Is that true?"
"Yes." He waited a beat, then snuffed out a little laugh.
"What?" Elyse asked.
"Okay, so, maybe you'll feel the same way, too, in time."
"Oh, but, Keb--I already do! I do love you, too."
"I wasn't forcing you to say it, Elyse."
"You didn't. I just--I get afraid, sometimes. It's a shortcoming of mine."
"A shortcoming?"
A Half Dozen Fools Page 19
