The Book of Jane

by Anne Dayton

  I nod and take a sip. The wine is light and refreshing.

  Mom puts a smile on her face, trying to help me out. “So how’s Ty?” she asks and beams at me. I freeze. I had also hoped to avoid talking about this. I take another sip. Mom looks at me.

  “Mom, Ty and I broke up,” I whisper. I feel so small.

  “What!?” Dad yells.

  “No!” Mom says. “When? Why?”

  And now they’re shocked. Great. I wait for a snarky comment from Jim, but he just looks at me sadly, which actually hurts more. I am pathetic.

  “It just wasn’t going to work out,” I say, biting my lip.

  “Of course it was,” Mom says. “You guys were perfect for each other.”

  I take a deep breath. “I thought so too,” I say, taking a long drink. “But apparently he had other ideas. He’s moving to Denver.”

  “Denver?” Dad asks, flabbergasted. “Why would he want to live there?”

  “Honey,” Mom says, patting my hand.

  “Mom, I—”

  “Maybe you could give it another shot?” She smiles at me hopefully and pats my hand.

  I look around at them. “I wish we could, more than anything. But I think it’s a more permanent break.” Before they can say anything, I stand up and walk to the door. “I’m going to go to bed now,” I say. Dad nods, stunned. Mom looks like she’s going to cry, as if Ty broke up with her.

  “Honey, check my vanity. I’ve got a great Dr. Hauschka product that will help your face.”

  I ignore her, trudge to my childhood room, and collapse on the bed.

  The next morning, I stay in bed for as long as I can, listening to the rain drum against the roof, praying for wisdom, but the smell of bacon fights against my desire to remain cocooned in my own world. Finally, hunger wins. I have to go face my family.

  Dad is cooking while Mom reads the paper and drinks coffee at the table. I can hear vague computer-generated explosions coming from Jim’s room.

  “There you are, honey,” Mom says, smiling sweetly as I trudge down the stairs in my pajamas. “Did you sleep okay?”

  I nod as I walk toward the pot of freshly brewed coffee.

  “Do you want some orange juice?” Dad asks, flipping the bacon in the pan.

  “No thanks,” I mumble, then take a seat at the table.

  “How are you feeling today?” Mom asks.

  “I’m okay.”

  “I didn’t sleep very well myself,” she volunteers. I nod. “I was up all night, thinking.” I don’t say anything, so she continues. “I realized what the problem is. I think you just don’t understand what a man really wants.”

  I look up at her, eyes narrowed. “What’s that?”

  “They want to feel needed, honey. They need to feel like the provider. It’s an ingrained thing from way back in the caveman days. He went out hunting, she stayed in and took care of the children. He brought home food at night, and they were all happy. Men are still the same today.” She smiles and hands me a napkin.

  “You think I should hang out in a cave and Tyson will come back?” I ask in disbelief.

  She laughs. “No, honey. What I mean is, Ty is probably uncomfortable with the fact that you make more than he does and that you place so much value on your career. You just need to be more supportive of his career.”

  “You mean I should quit my job.”

  “Not yet. But you do need to let him know that when you get married you will.” She smiles.

  “But I won’t.”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” she says, as if I’m a petulant five-year-old. “Maybe you should.”

  I take a deep breath. Please, God, don’t let me punch my mother.

  “I lost my job, Mom. So waiting until I get married to quit it seems a little ridiculous now.”

  I watch as her face registers shock, surprise, and, finally, delight.

  “But that’s perfect! Does Ty know?”

  I close my eyes and place my fingers on my temples. I can’t even begin to deal with the fact that my own mother is delighted that I just lost my dream job.

  “No, Mom. I—” I take a deep breath. “I love Ty. I miss him more than you could ever know. But it’s just not going to work. He dumped me, and he’s moving on, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” I start to cry. “I lost my job, but I’m going to get another. I love working; I love doing something to make a difference in the world.”

  “But honey, your job wasn’t really about making—”

  “I am proud of my work,” I cut her off. “And I was just starting to be able to do what I really wanted with the charity work. And a magazine printed a lie about me and Matt Sherwin, and I had to take the blame.” She nods, taking it all in.

  “So that’s what it was,” she says, looking at me. “I wondered.”

  “Are you okay?” Dad asks, sitting down at the table.

  “I’m fine. I just…need some time to think.”

  “Honey,” Mom says, taking a sip of coffee. “Take some time. You deserve it. But why don’t you give Ty a call?” She looks at me sweetly.

  “Mom, I can’t,” I sigh. They don’t get it. I know she’s trying to help, but I didn’t come here for advice; I came because I needed someone to take my side. I came here because moms are supposed to protect you and defend you against the world.

  “Of course you can. Ty loves you,” she says, placing her cup down precisely.

  “You’re acting like this is all my fault,” I say, sitting up straight. I look at one, then the other, and they’re both shaking their heads.

  “Sweetheart, that’s not what we’re saying,” Dad says and then glares at my mom. She ignores him and looks at me, pursing her lips. I wait, but she doesn’t say anything.

  I nod, then stand up and walk to the stairs to gather my things. I don’t need this. I’ll take the first train out of here.

  I trudge up the stairs to my apartment building slowly, closing my umbrella and shaking off the water. I’m so glad it’s pouring. I couldn’t deal with the world being sunny and beautiful while I am so miserable. I spent the whole train ride thinking about what they said. Is it all my fault? Is this whole thing one big mistake? What is God trying to teach me in all this? All I know is that I couldn’t stay there any longer. I know they loved Ty, and they were disappointed, and they’ll come around, but I can’t stand to sit and be judged until then.

  After I drop off my bag, I’ll head to the animal hospital to pick up Charlie. It’s just a short walk from here, and maybe on the way I can even find him a Welcome Home from the Hospital toy. I think about how good it will be to see him. At least he still loves me.

  But at the top of the stairs I stop and sniff the air. It smells weird up here. Damp. Like mildew. I’ll have to contact the building manager about that. It feels damp too.

  I put my key in my lock and push the door open. Why…what? Why is there water all over the floor? Is that some kind of trash? My couch? My couch is all wet. What happened? I look down. I’m standing in an inch of water. The entire floor is covered with debris. And there, in the middle, is Elvis. The giant statue is lying on its side on my living room floor, his stupid mouth still open in a ridiculous grin. But how did Elvis get—oh no. I look up slowly.

  The skylight is gone, the broken pieces of glass littering my floor. The wind from the storm must have knocked the King over onto the skylight. He crashed through. And judging by the amount of water in my living room, it happened quite a while ago. I can’t move. I’m frozen in shock in the doorway as it begins to register that Elvis has crashed through my roof and destroyed my living room.

  Chapter 10

  I knock on Lee’s door and prepare to meet Mary Sue. She’s a mom. She’ll know what to do about my roof. But when the door opens, I see Lee smiling at me.

  “Look what the Chihuahua dragged in,” he says and crosses his arms over his chest. “How is Mrs. Matt Sherwin doing today?”

  “Can it,” I say and push past him. I do a quick
sweep of his apartment looking for Mary Sue. “Where’s your mom?”

  Lee strolls over to his sleek designer couch, now strung with a giant lace doily, and plops down. He’s smirking. “She’s not here, and you’re avoiding my question.” He pats the seat next to him. “Why don’t you come sit over here and tell me all about it. Is it true he had his teeth capped?”

  I walk over and collapse for a moment, my head spinning.

  “Well?” he says.

  “What?” I wish he’d stop teasing me. I’m overloaded. I need to think.

  “Jane, you’re going to have to tell me eventually. You should just be glad I’m not mad that I had to find out from the tabloids.”

  “Lee?” He keeps mumbling about loyalty and friends and telling each other all of our secrets. “Lee!” He looks up at me. “I am not with Matt Sherwin.” I take a deep breath. “My roof caved in. Tyson dumped me. I lost my job. Charlie is sick. My parents think I’m a failure. And I don’t know what to do.”

  He stares at me in shock.

  “Your mom didn’t tell you any of this?” I ask. “I saw her the other night, and she was a big help.”

  “She mentioned you’d had a bad day and that I should call you immediately, but something was wrong with your cell phone, and I couldn’t get through. I guess she thought you’d want to tell me yourself.”

  “That must have been my work cell phone. They confiscated it. Along with my Blackberry and my dignity. The way those people were looking at me that day…” I lose myself for a moment thinking about it, but then I remember why I came down here. “Lee, I need you. Come upstairs. Now.”

  As we open the door to my apartment, he gasps. “Well, I’ll be,” he says quietly. I flip on the light to better assess the damage. The plaster around the skylight is soaked and has started to crumble onto my wooden floors. The rain has soaked my couch, and from what I can tell, the books on my shelves. I can see a good inch of water on my bedroom floor. I walk over to the desk and pick up my laptop. Water comes pouring out and splashes onto my shoes. Lee takes a deep breath and finally speaks. “I’m so sorry, Jane. This is really bad. Historically bad. It’s almost like, like, you’re cursed. And that statue—I’m so sorry.”

  He’s so dramatic. “Lee, I’m not cursed.”

  “I don’t know, Jane. Are you sure you haven’t angered that God of yours that you’re always going on about?”

  “This from the guy who won’t go outside if his horoscope is bad? Look, forget it.” I should have never come to him for help. I wish Mary Sue had been home. “Lee, I just need help right now. What should I do?”

  “Let’s go back down to my place and call the building manager. We’ll figure something out.”

  Lee and I call the animal hospital and arrange for Lee to pick Charlie up in an hour. The nurse reassures me three times that he is 100 percent better and out of danger. Then we locate Robert, the building manager, on his cell phone, and he gives me a contractor’s number to call first thing in the morning. But he also warns me that I will have to cover the cost of the repair because it happened due to my own negligence in not securing the statue. I gulp, but I can’t think about that now.

  I go back upstairs and pack everything I can think of into a big rolling suitcase. Lee graciously offers to let me stay with him, but warns I’ll have to fight with Auntie Di, who is coming over from Jersey tonight to stay, for a space on the living room floor. I can’t do that to him. I’ll figure something out.

  As I start to trudge down the stairs, he calls after me. “So you really didn’t kiss him?”

  I shake my head.

  “Well, good,” he says. “Because I really think he got his teeth capped and you can tell that when you kiss someone.”

  I am standing outside my building, about to dial Raquel’s number, when my phone rings. “Hello?” I say quickly, putting it to my ear.

  “Is this Jane Williams?” an unfamiliar voice intones. Whoever she is, she is all business.

  “Yes,” I answer, my heart falling. She doesn’t sound happy.

  “This is Margaret Ann Markelson, for the Girl Scouts of Greater New York,” she says. “Bella’s mom?”

  “Oh, um, yes. Hi, Mrs. Markelson.” Why is Bella’s mom calling me?

  “I am afraid I have to inform you that we have found it necessary, in light of your recent…indiscretions…to ask you to relinquish all ties to Troop One Ninety-two. We the parents felt it is in the best interest of our children. Effective immediately.”

  “What?” I screech, but inwardly, I’m not even surprised anymore. Of course the girls’ parents don’t want a harlot like me teaching their children values. “But that story about me in Star Power isn’t true,” I say. “You can’t fire me for something I didn’t do.” I know I hadn’t decided whether or not I would take over the troop, but now that I don’t have any choice, I know I want them. They can be frustrating at times, but the look on their faces when they have just mastered a new skill or learned a new song…It breaks my heart to think I’ll never get to help them again.

  “I’m afraid I have no choice,” Mrs. Markelson says. “I am very sorry.”

  “But I showed them how to roast marshmallows,” I say. “And canoe.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice?” she says. “Perhaps you should have thought about how much those little girls looked up to you when you were cavorting all over town with that actor.”

  “But what I’m trying to tell you is—”

  “Please, don’t explain. I know everything already. The problem is you young, unmarried troop leaders never seem to realize that you’re always a Brownie. You’re not just a Brownie on the clock, during troop meetings or on campouts. You’re a Brownie every day, and you should act like one, no matter who is watching.”

  “I know that. I did. You’ve got to believe me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  I shrug in helpless anger. What can you say to a livid Brownie mom?

  “Look, the troop is now in the hands of a mother. I will take over for now. A mother will better understand the full responsibilities it entails.”

  “Fine,” I spit. “But I gave my everything for those girls. And I, for one, think we did all right.”

  Mrs. Markelson laughs. “All right isn’t good enough for the Brownies, dear. Good night.”

  I stare at my phone in disgust. Raquel warned me that some people in the local Brownie council were a little crazy, but that call was worse than the Inquisition. I sit thinking about our first campout. I love those little girls. I can’t believe they’re taking them from me. My head spins at all the rumors that are inevitably being spread about me by the Upper East Side moms. I shake my head in disbelief.

  I can’t worry about this now. I think about the puddle on the apartment floor. I need to call Raquel about staying over. Maybe we can talk about the Brownies tonight, and she can fix it. I dial her number, and the phone rings for a while before Raquel breathlessly picks it up. “Hello?” she asks wearily.

  “Raquel, it’s Jane,” I say, cringing. She sounds really tired. Wait? Has she seen the article? Does she know about the Brownie thing? “Look, I’m sorry to do this to you, but I was wondering if I could come crash at your place for a few days. My roof caved in, and I—”

  “Your what?” she asks distractedly. I hear a shrill yell in the background.

  “My roof caved in, Raquel. And I need a place to stay while I figure out what to do, and I was hoping—”

  “Haven, put that down!” Raquel shrieks just before a large crash erupts in the background. Raquel sighs. “You’re welcome to come over, Jane,” she finally says. “You’re always welcome. But, as you can probably tell, it’s not the best time for us.”

  “Raquel,” I say, unsure how to react, “I really appreciate that. You know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t an emergency.” I realize she doesn’t know a thing about the Star Power nonsense or the Brownies. I’ve never heard her sound so frantic.

  “Jane, if it’
s an emergency, why don’t you go home to your parents?” she asks. “They’re right there, and they have the resources to give you anything you need.” I have to admit that from her perspective it probably seems like the obvious solution, but I can’t go back there. Not after the way I left things today. I need space and time before I can face them again.

  “I would,” I say, “but I went there last night, and they—they don’t really understand my current situation, and—”

  She sighs. “You’re being silly, Jane. Swallow your pride and go back to them. Remember the prodigal son? Parents are always willing to take their children back and give them another shot, trust me,” she says, and I wince as I hear Olivia yelling for her father.

  “Raquel, you just don’t understand,” I begin, but she interrupts me.

  “I understand that your parents are there for you if you’ll just use them. That’s the practical thing to do. You’re single and mobile and should take advantage of it. Someday when you have a family, you’ll understand,” she says.

  My plan to crash at the Hardaway Hotel crumbles with her words. I know she’s stressed out, and maybe logically what she’s saying makes sense, but it’s certainly not what I need to hear right now. “Um, I guess you’re right. Okay, I’ll do that,” I say, lying to get her off the phone.

  “Listen, I remember when I was single,” she says, her voice softening a little. “You have these little problems, and you think they’re the end of the world, but I can assure you, they’re not,” she says. I feel myself getting angry. Thanks for the condescension, Married Lady. “Someday, you’ll be a mom and you’ll see what I mean.”

  “Whatever,” I say, amazed at my own composure. Some friend. “I have to go.” And while my voice is clearly saying to her, You’d better not let me hang up like this, I’m so angry at you, I could scream, she says a quick “buh-bye” and is gone.

  I sigh. I take a moment to calm down and think of who to call next. I scroll through my phone, but no one I call picks up. It’s like the whole world has conspired against me. I keep scrolling and realize I only really have one option.