A State of Jane

by Schorr, Meredith

  I felt my own face get warm as I clarified my previous statement. “Well, not nail ‘em, exactly. Just that one time. But, you know, not care so much. Make them see how it feels to be discarded like last night's leftovers!”

  “I'd love to hear about that one time!” Standing up, Andrew said, “First things first. I'm starving. Let's go out to lunch — Cafe Europa. You can get one of those ‘make-your-own-salads’ you girls cream over.”

  I rolled my eyes but laughed anyway. “Nice, Andrew.”

  Andrew gestured to the door. “Coming?”

  I grabbed my pocket-book from behind my chair and said, “Coming”.

  Twenty minutes later, Andrew and I were seated at a table in Cafe Europa. I was eating a mixed green salad with tomato, cucumbers, carrots, mushrooms, chicken, and some blue cheese and Thousand Island dressing to add some actual taste. Andrew was eating a buffalo chicken wrap, a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips and drinking a can of Dr. Pepper. As I observed him swallow half of his wrap in three bites, I marveled at how some people could eat whatever they wanted and not get fat, while even when I religiously worked out five times a week and starved myself on salad, I still had to wear Spanx and lie on my back to zip up my size 8 jeans. If I was PMS-ing, forget about it. Sure, I could nix the blue cheese and substitute fat-free dressing but I'd probably not fit into a size 6 anyway and, instead, would be miserable, hungry and wind up with my head in a bag of mini Three Musketeers bars three hours later. So I was stuck with my, in online dating terms, “about average” body.

  I waited until Andrew finished chewing and said, “So my ex got engaged.”

  Andrew placed his soda can down and pushed his plate to the center of the table signifying he was finished. “Ahh. So that's what the tears are about.”

  “Not really. I don't want him back or anything.”

  Andrew nodded. “You just didn't want him to move on before you.”

  “Exactly. I always thought I'd get married first. I'm so ready. He's so immature! Like a little boy!” I looked down at the remnants of my salad. I couldn't decide if I was finished eating.

  “Men are boys ‘til the day they die, Jane. Doesn't mean they're not capable of getting married and having kids.”

  I looked up at his last words. “Kids? Don't even go there. I couldn't take it if he had kids while I…”

  “While you what, Jane?” Andrew held my gaze as if willing me to try to turn away.

  I reluctantly answered, “Didn't even have a boyfriend!”

  “You're not gonna get a boyfriend if you play with guys' feelings like you've been doing,” Andrew said matter-of-factly.

  I slammed my fist on the table. “That's what you told me to do!”

  Andrew shook his head. “That's not what I told you to do.”

  In disbelief, I looked at Andrew, feeling my eyes bulge out of my head. “You told me to nail ‘em and leave ‘em!”

  Still shaking his head adamantly, he said, “I meant you should stop taking it all so seriously and not think of every guy as ‘the one.’”

  “No. That's what my sister said. You told me to, and I repeat for all the kids watching at home, nail ‘em and leave ‘em.”

  Andrew raised his chin defiantly. “You're preaching to the perverted, babe, and I stand by that advice. But I didn't mean you should purposely play with a guy's feelings to build your own ego. Let's face it, that's the only reason you pretended to be interested in Brandon and Don.”

  “I wasn't pretending on purpose, Andrew! Besides, why do guys get to play with my feelings, but I can't play with theirs? Kind of a double standard, don't you think?”

  “The guys who have played with your feelings were jerks, Jane. You deserve better than guys like them.” Andrew stacked my tray on top of his and stood up. “At least you did deserve better until you decided to play their game.”

  As Andrew walked to the garbage can with our trays, I let his last words sink in. When he returned I said, “I don't know why I bother. Guys are such assholes. And they get away with it. I don't think I want to do it anymore. I'm just going to be the best lawyer ever and that will be enough.”

  Andrew raised his eyebrows. “OK, Jane. Whatever you say. But, so you know, not all guys are assholes.”

  Throughout the remainder of the day, I kept hearing Andrew's words, “Not all guys are assholes.” As I rode the subway home that night, I glared at the cutish-corporate guy reading The Wall Street Journal directly across from me and thought about the guys whose acquaintance I'd been unfortunate to make over the last six months. They'd certainly done little to support Andrew's statement. Randall was an asshole supreme and Cory was definitely in the same category. As Corporate Guy looked up from his paper and glared back at me, I quickly looked away. He was probably an asshole too but even men, I guessed, should be seen as innocent until proven guilty. In truth, there were some decent men in my life. I had to admit, Bob was not an asshole. So, score one for men. Claire's Kevin had, so far, been nothing but loyal and sweet. I smiled, remembering the picture Claire had emailed me earlier in the week. Apparently, Kevin had been kind enough to match Claire's weight gain, pound for pound. If that wasn't anti-asshole, behavior, what was? And, of course, my father was a shining example of non-asshole-like men. So score two and three for men.

  I stood up in anticipation of the train's arrival at 77th Street. So did Corporate Guy. The stop was very popular for guys in their twenties and early thirties. Maybe he added to the decent-men quota too. I tried to make eye contact to silently apologize for the dirty looks I gave him earlier but he rushed off the train and was up the stairs before I had a chance. On my walk home, I tried to think of other good guys and immediately remembered Andrew. Despite telling me to date like a man, I got the feeling he was something of a romantic. I felt a bit guilty for flirting with both of his friends in the same night although it had been fun making them both think I'd go out with them. Truth was, had I met either of them before being blown off by Randall, Jim, and Cory, I might be dating them now. At least if they pulled the fade away on me, they'd have to answer to Andrew. It was so sweet of him to treat me to lunch. And his insistence that not all guys were assholes was comforting. I finally understood why all of the female paralegals flirted with him. I always thought he was a bit goofy, but his concern was sweet and sexy. I peeked in the window of Pick-a-Bagel, contemplating whether to buy something for dinner. I really had to study for the LSAT and reluctantly decided it was more efficient to pick up food than waste precious study time cooking. I'd buy a sandwich for Lainie too. Maybe I'd ask her to tell me more about Antoine since it seemed her interest in him extended beyond that of a carnal nature.

  * * *

  I scooped out the insides of my bagel and tossed them in the garbage. I sat back down at our kitchen table and while spreading low fat vegetable cream-cheese on both sides, I said to Lainie, “So, I think that guy Andrew at work might have feelings for me.”

  Lainie looked up from her bowl of potato leek soup. She opted to save the turkey sandwich I bought her for lunch the next day. “Really? What makes you think that? Did he say something?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Not exactly.” I paused while trying to find the best words to describe it. “It's just he's….well, he's a guy's guy, totally crude, and he definitely plays around. But he's so nice and patient with me. He's always telling me I'm better than these losers who keep blowing me off.”

  Lainie got up and grabbed a large bottle of Snapple iced tea from the fridge and two glasses. After she sat down and poured us both a glass, she said, “I keep telling you the same thing!”

  I smiled at Lainie, who had surprised me more than once with her pep talks. “I know. But you're my friend. You have to say those things. Andrew has nothing to gain by being sweet.”

  “Do you like him?”

  I tried to picture Andrew moving in to kiss me and was able to visualize myself leaning into him. “I never thought about it until now. He's my officemate and that could be aw
kward but, yeah, maybe I do. I don't know. It's worth exploring, right?”

  Lainie smiled. “That's what dating is about Jane. Go for it. But don't get your hopes up.”

  “I won't. By the way, how do your parents feel about Antoine? Is he the ‘eligible bachelor’ they had in mind? Have they reserved the church?” I joked.

  Lainie shook her head. “The folks are still on a need-to-know basis.”

  “Gotcha,” I said, taking a bite of my bagel. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  After I finished eating and got ready for bed, I searched my closet for what to wear to work the next day. I wanted to wear something that made me look good but not like I was trying to look good. Maybe Andrew was right, playing with a guy's feelings wasn't the way to finding true love. Perhaps not all guys were assholes, and I was just looking in the wrong places.

  CHAPTER 31

  When I arrived at work the next morning, Andrew was already sitting at his desk. I smiled brightly at him and said, “Good morning.” He smiled back and motioned to the cell phone he was holding against his ear.

  I mouthed, “Sorry” and logged onto my computer while trying to overhear his conversation. All I got was, “Sounds good. Talk to you later” before he hung up, turned to me and said, “Feeling better today, Jane?”

  “Much! Thanks so much for lunch yesterday. I needed that.”

  “No problem. I wasn't sure if I'd made you feel better or worse.”

  “Better. Definitely better. It just took a few hours for your words to sink in.”

  Laughing, Andrew said, “So I don't have to worry about you studying law from a convent?”

  I felt my face flush, which I hated, and said, “No. I've decided giving up on men would be a premature decision.”

  Andrew winked. “Good. The male race thanks you.”

  Feeling my blush deepen, I said, “Speaking of thank you, I'd like to take you out for drinks to express my appreciation for being so nice to me.”

  “Totally not necessary, Jane. But who am I to refuse drinks?”

  Figuring I would seem too anxious if I pushed him for a date, I just laughed and turned towards my computer, trying to force the smile off my face.

  “I'm free Thursday.”

  I looked over at Andrew and still smiling, said, “Thursday it is.”

  Later that afternoon, I had left my desk to pick something up from the color printer when I walked past Bethany's cubicle. I heard her whisper, “Jane,” turned around and walked over to her. “Hey, what's going on?” I asked.

  Twiddling a purple strand of hair around her finger, Bethany said, “Check this out” and pointed to her computer where a cat was dressed up like Elvis. “It's a fucking fashion show for cats.” Shaking her head incredulously, she said, “Have you ever?”

  I looked at the screen again where a cat was now wearing a party hat and a red and black velvet blazer. “Gross. Why would someone do that to his pet? It's animal cruelty if you ask me.”

  Bethany nodded. Minimizing the screen, she said, “I hear ya! What's up with you?” Motioning to an empty chair right outside her cubicle, she said, “Sit.”

  I sat down, aching to tell her about drinks with Andrew. I wondered if she'd heard any rumors that he liked me. She seemed to be in everyone's business and I knew she was Facebook friends with everyone at work. I didn't think it was wise to make everyone at work privy to my personal information but was beginning to re-think my decision. Maybe I'd friend her later. Andrew too. Or maybe I'd just wait until we were dating and I could change my romantic status to “in a relationship.”

  “I was out with the A-Team last night,” Bethany said. “They asked when you were coming out again.”

  “Really? That's sweet.” I hoped she wouldn't try to set up anything definitive. Despite how much fun I'd had that night, it was an adventure I wasn't sure I wanted to repeat any time soon. Like Andrew had said, I hadn't been myself lately and staying out all night getting drunk was more Frances than Jane. I wasn't going to find the right guy pretending to be someone I wasn't.

  As if reading my mind, Andrew appeared in front of Bethany's desk, his face flushed almost the same shade as his hair. Greeting us, he said, “Ladies.”

  Bethany extended her hand across the desk and gave him a high five. “What's up, Andrew?”

  Feeling shy and wondering if Andrew saw me sitting with Bethany before deciding to come over, I just smiled.

  Andrew whispered, “Just had a three hour lunch with a vendor.” After a slight pause, he said, “Loaded.”

  Giggling, I said, “How much did you drink?”

  “We shared two bottles of wine but I doubt she drank more than two glasses.” Andrew shrugged. “The rest was all me, I guess.”

  Bethany gave him another high five. “Nice, killa!”

  I glanced at the clock on Bethany's computer. It was almost 5:30. “Well, at least it's almost time to go home. You can crash.”

  Andrew gave us a sly grin. “Nah. I'm just here to log out. Going back out for Happy Hour.”

  Shaking her head, Bethany said, “You party animal!”

  I was torn between hoping he'd invite me to come along and fearing that joining them would mean we wouldn't go out alone on Thursday. “Have fun!”

  “Thanks,” Andrew said before giving us a quick wave and walking away.

  “He's too much,” Bethany said with a laugh. “Great guy.”

  “I agree.” I watched him walk away, wishing Thursday night would come already so I could say it to his face.

  CHAPTER 32

  Andrew didn't come to work on Wednesday and I worried he was sick and we'd need to postpone our drinks for the next day. I was getting really nervous about how to broach the subject of kicking our relationship up a notch. I didn't think he'd reject me, but I also knew he wouldn't make the first move and why should he? He knew I dated a lot and I'd even flirted with two of his friends. He probably had no idea I liked him. I wished I hadn't wasted so much time on other guys when Andrew was there the entire time, but I couldn't look backwards — onward and upward!

  I decided to wait until we'd had at least one drink, so I'd be less tense and it wouldn't come out rehearsed. But I'd rehearsed it, make no mistake. My father always said, “Chance favors the prepared mind.”

  I had planned to go shopping that night with Marissa for an anniversary present for Katherine and Katherine's husband, Martin, but called to see if she'd come over to help me pick out an outfit for my date with Andrew instead. It was almost 5:00. I was still at work and supposed to meet Marissa at 6:00 outside of Crate and Barrel.

  Marissa said, “I really need to get going on this. The entire family is getting together on Sunday to celebrate. Our parents, his parents, Katherine, Martin, and, of course, me.” Attempting a laugh, she added, “No date, of course. Anyway, I really need your help. My idea of domesticity is Ramen noodles in a hot pot. I have no clue what to buy a couple on their first anniversary.”

  I pondered sending Andrew a text to make sure he was OK.

  “Jane!”

  Startled, I said “I'm here!”

  “So you promise if I come to you tonight, you'll shop with me on Friday after work?”

  “Promise.” I decided not to text Andrew and simply hoped for the best.

  Later that night, Marissa and I rummaged through my closet for the perfect outfit.

  Marissa pulled a pair of black dress pants from my closet and said, “What about these with your white silk blouse and red patent pumps? Katherine suggested wearing high heels so your legs would look longer and slimmer, but I told her that Andrew wasn't that tall.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Too corporate. We'll probably go someplace more casual. Andrew likes pubs. And why did you tell Katherine about my drinks with Andrew?”

  “Where do you think you'll go?”

  Aware that Marissa conveniently ignored my question, I scratched my head and scrutinized the pile of clothes in front of me. “I don't know. We haven't discussed
it.” Neither of us had mentioned going out since Tuesday morning when Andrew said he was free on Thursday and I said, “OK.” I was a bit worried that he'd forgotten and sort of hoped he'd bring it up first so I wouldn't have to. I picked my gray pants off the floor. “Screw it. I'll just wear these pants and my black cashmere sweater and boots. It's not like Andrew doesn't see me every day. He either likes me or he doesn't.”

  “You're right.” Marissa paused and then said, “But wear your push-up bra anyway!”

  I nodded. “Couldn't hurt. And my best Hanky Panky thong.”

  Looking at me questioningly, Marissa said, “You're not gonna sleep with him on the first date, are you?”

  It wasn't really a first date since I'd known Andrew for years, but I hadn't thought about actually sleeping with him. That might be weird if we had to work with each other the next day. Although it could also be a sexy secret, like Meredith and Derek on the first season of Grey's Anatomy.

  Interrupting my thoughts, Marissa said, “It's kind of premature to think about sleeping together since you haven't even told him how you feel yet. Have you thought about what you'll say if he doesn't like you back?”

  “Of course,” I lied. “But I really can't see this going badly. Andrew flirts with a lot of girls but he's different with me. More caring. Each time I imagine the conversation, he's relieved and laughs at me for being so blind. The only thing I can't picture is what happens next. Do we just kiss and make plans to hang out again or do we move right to boyfriend/girlfriend zone?”

  Marissa bit her lip. “I don't know. I always think it's smart to plan for the worst case scenario.”

  Marissa bent down to fold some of the sweaters I had thrown from my dresser drawer onto the floor. Looking up at me, she said, “I have a date next week too. A guy from Match.”

  “Cool. I spent all that money on eHarmony and never went on a single online date!”

  “Anyway, he's thirty-one, a trader and looks cute. I prefer the creative type but you never know.”

  “Online dating. The land of the super flakes!” I said, laughing.