A State of Jane

by Schorr, Meredith

  “You can't fix it, sweetheart,” my dad said.

  “And you're probably not doing anything wrong,” my mom added.

  “Really? You don't think it's my fault?” I asked my mom. Shocking.

  “No offense to your father, but men can be assholes, Jane. No matter how pretty and nice you are, you can't change who they are or what they're looking for.” She reached for my hand across the table, kissed it and said in a soft voice, “Their loss, sweetheart.”

  “None of those men were good enough for you and you should be happy you didn't waste too much time on them,” my dad said sternly. “I'd like to get them alone in a dark alley.”

  Dismissing him with a gesture of her hand, my mom said, “I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but life is not going to wait for you to find a husband. And law school won't either. They shouldn't be mutually exclusive. So what now?”

  I had not given any thought to my next steps, so when the waiter brought out our food, I hoped it would signal the end of the conversation.

  My dad placed half of his stack of pancakes on my plate and I gave him half of my omelet. Then we watched in silence as my mom prepared her burger. First she removed the top half of the roll and covered the burger with lettuce and tomato, leaving the slice of red onion on the plate next to her. Then she reached across the table for the ketchup and spread a thin layer on the roll. Then she swapped the ketchup for the mustard and spread a thin layer of mustard directly over the ketchup. Finally, she cut the burger in half and with both hands brought one half to her lips and took a huge bite. It wasn't until after she chewed, swallowed and wiped her chin with a napkin that she noticed us watching her. She put the burger back on her plate and said, “What is so fascinating about watching me eat a burger?”

  My dad and I looked at each other and laughed.

  “Anyway,” she said. “Getting back to the subject at hand, what is your next move? Have you signed up for the next exam yet?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “But the next exam is in June. Plenty of time to prepare if I start studying now.” I poured a few drops of syrup onto my plate and swirled a piece of pancake in it before taking a bite.

  “The question is: will you start studying now?” my mom asked.

  “If you need more time, you can always wait until October,” my dad said, stealing one of my mom's French fries. “We don't want to pressure her. Do we, Pamela?”

  After moving her plate further away from my dad's reach, my mom looked at me. “Do you need more time, Jane?”

  “No. I want to take the exam so I can start applying to schools. I don't want to delay admission any longer or I'll be thirty-five by the time I graduate! The plan is thirty at the latest.”

  My dad chuckled. “Reminds me of that saying — ‘Man makes plans. God laughs.’ You've always been a planner, Jane. Remember all of those lists you used to write? What to wear for the week, what games to play at your sleepover party.”

  “And the pro/con lists!” my mom said with a squeal. “You even wrote one before choosing a prom dress!”

  “No I didn't! I wrote one to help Bob choose whether to wear a black, white, or silver cummerbund with his tuxedo.” The dope wanted to wear red which would have completely clashed with my pastel pink dress and looked ridiculous in our prom pictures.

  Rolling her eyes, my mom said, “Such a life-altering decision. Anyway, the point is, there are some things you can control. Like remembering to study and sign up for the LSAT exam. But most things can't be planned, like meeting the love of your life. I know you like to consider yourself a mature, experienced, woman and you think you are ready to get married and start your own family, but I'm not sure I agree.”

  Feeling defensive, I pouted and said, “But…”

  Interrupting, my mom held her hand in my face, which I hated. “Wait a second! I'm not finished.”

  I didn't bother arguing with my mom and remained silent.

  She continued, “You might only be seventeen months younger than Claire but you've led a completely different existence.” Raising her hand again as if anticipating resistance from me, she said, “I don't mean that in a bad way. I just mean that Claire has had more life experience than you. She struggled in school. She dated more ‘assclowns’ than you did. She lost her first teaching job. You've yet to have the world slam the door in your face, although maybe it's happening a bit now. I just don't think you're ready to settle down because I don't think you even know what you want yet. And, really, there is no rush. You're still very young.”

  I looked at my dad for his reaction. “What do you think, Dad?”

  My dad shrugged. “What the hell do I know? I'm a man. Listen to your mother.”

  My mom winked. “I've trained him well.”

  I hadn't given much thought to veering from the plans I'd made as far back as I could remember, but maybe my mom was right that I had more living to do. Although I didn't think my mom would encourage more one-night stands under the guise of “life experience.” “OK, I will try to appreciate what I have now and not worry about what will surely happen eventually.” I took another bite of my pancake. “Yum. So good.”

  I looked around the restaurant and took notice of the other diners. I wasn't at all jealous of the people out with their significant others. Well, not that much. I didn't currently have a boyfriend, but so what? I had a loving family and great friends. I turned back to my parents and watched my mother continue to devour her burger. And I watched my dad as he watched my mother devour her burger. Yes, I had a loving family. I stopped chewing the piece of pancake in my mouth and swallowed hard as it dawned on me that whether I had loving friends was questionable.

  CHAPTER 42

  I placed the box of cupcakes on the stoop and rang the buzzer for Marissa's apartment. My arms hurt from lugging both the cupcakes and my pocketbook and I really hoped she was home so that I hadn't made the trip for nothing. I was a bit slow on the uptake but it was now clear to me that it was by no accident that Marissa had found somewhere else to watch True Blood and hadn't answered any of my calls. It was purposeful, the purpose being to avoid me. So I knew she wouldn't have answered if I'd called first.

  “Who's there?”

  “It's me.” In response to silence, I clarified, “Jane.” Your ex-best friend.

  Sounding less than enthusiastic, Marissa said, “Oh, OK. Come up” and a moment later the buzzer sounded.

  I grabbed the box of cupcakes, took a deep breath, and climbed the two stories to her apartment. Usually when I rounded the steps to her floor, she'd already be standing outside the door, propping it open with her body, but when I got to 2D the worn wooden door was closed shut. I knocked softly and heard her say, “Come in. It's open.”

  When I walked in, Marissa was in sweats and sitting on her futon bed, staring at the television set with the remote control on her lap.

  I planted on a smile and said, “I come bearing gifts!”

  Turning to face me, Marissa quickly glanced at the box of cupcakes. “Thanks,” she said before returning her attention to the couple figure skating on the television.

  “I made them myself. Red velvet, tiramisu, and peanut butter cup, all your favorites. And a cookie dough for me. In the event you're in a generous mood and want to share.”

  “Help yourself,” Marissa said dryly.

  I brought the box to her small kitchen and removed two small plates and two glasses from her cabinet. I helped myself to the container of milk in her refrigerator and poured us both a glass. Then I placed a red velvet cupcake on one plate and the cookie dough cupcake on the other and returned to find Marissa still riveted to the television screen. I could tell she was trying very hard not to see what I was doing or act like she cared by the way she kept nervously tapping her slipper-clad foot. After I put the plates on her coffee table, I went back to the kitchen for the milk and then sat next down next to her. “Are you going to ignore me all night?”

  Marissa muted the television and looked at me. �
��Why are you here, Jane?” Sounding annoyed, she said, “Is this about another guy?”

  I guess I deserved that. “No. I actually wanted to apologize.”

  “Really? For what exactly?”

  “I haven't been a very good friend lately.”

  Sounding mildly bored, Marissa said, “Go on,” but I could see her hazel eyes dilating and knew I had finally piqued her interest.

  I took a bite from the bottom of my cupcake, leaving the frosting for last. “Look, I didn't mean to go all self-absorbed on you. This dating stuff was harder than I thought it would be and, well, it consumed me.”

  “You think?”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear. “If it's any consolation, you were not my only victim. I fought with Claire too and it wasn't until she wound up in the hospital that I…”

  Interrupting, Marissa said, “Claire's in the hospital? Is she OK?”

  “Yes, she's fine.” When Marissa opened her mouth to speak again, I said, “So is the baby. I'll tell you about it later. Just let me finish.”

  “OK,” Marissa said, still frowning with concern.

  “Anyway, between Claire's accident, missing the LSAT, and realizing that you stopped returning my calls, I finally realized that I was out of control. And that other people have stuff going on that's just as important as mine.”

  Marissa nodded.

  “And that being single is not the end of the world. I'm only twenty-six!”

  Marissa smiled and finally took a bite from the cupcake she'd been holding the entire time. “Yes, we both have many fertile years left. Thankfully.”

  “Thankfully. Anyway, the bottom line is that I am sorry I neglected you. And I'm sorry I dismissed your dating life and your life in general as being less important than mine. You're my best friend and I love you.”

  “You're my best friend too,” she said with her eyes downcast.

  “I'm so happy,” I said as I reached over to embrace her.

  Marissa pulled away. “I got the promotion, by the way.”

  “What promotion?”

  Marissa shook her head. “Exactly!”

  My heart sank. “Did I miss something?”

  Marissa frowned. “I told you my project manager had quit and asked your advice about whether or not I should ask for her job. You were too busy wallowing in self-pity to bother with me. But I got the job. No thanks to you. I know you say I rely on Katherine too much but she's the one who encouraged me to go for it. Not sure I could have done it without her.”

  I felt my eyes water and reached for her hand. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, and I'm glad you have Katherine. Sisters are the best!” I shook my head in shame. “God, I was awful! I promise to never, ever, ever take you for granted again. Please take my word on that.”

  Marissa nodded and squeezed my hand. “It's a good thing I love you, Frank!”

  I hugged her firmly and when we separated, I said, “So, what did you wind up buying Katherine and Martin for their anniversary?”

  “The two remaining place settings of their china pattern. They never got a complete set when they originally registered.” Marissa shrugged. “It was an easier choice than I thought since Katherine conveniently mentioned it to me the day before the dinner.”

  “Was the dinner awful?”

  “Not as bad as I expected.” Laughing, Marissa said, “I drank a lot of wine to dull the pain.”

  I raised my glass of milk in the air. “Well, it's not wine but I think our friendship deserves to be toasted.” I motioned to Marissa's glass and, smiling, she raised it in the air with mine. “To friendship.”

  “To friendship,” Marissa repeated.

  CHAPTER 43

  Later that night, I went home and signed up for the June LSAT. I even registered for a Kaplan prep class. I didn't make enough money to blow two thousand dollars on a course I wouldn't attend and had a feeling asking my folks to foot the bill wouldn't go over well right now. An online course would have been more convenient, but I feared it might be too convenient, so I chose the live class. And I assured Marissa it wasn't to meet men.

  Off to a good, albeit second start on the road to law school, I returned my focus to mending the relationships I had let go astray due to my unsuccessful quest for a committed relationship. Lainie.

  As happy as I was to have resolved things with Marissa, I hadn't been all that concerned. Marissa was easy to please: a little attention and some chocolate usually did the trick. That's not to say I wasn't sincerely remorseful for taking her friendship for granted, but I knew it would take more than a few months living in an “it's all about me” bubble to permanently turn her against me. I was less confident about Lainie. I hadn't known her long enough to know if she was the forgiving type but she'd mentioned many times that she was a Scorpio and that Scorpios were known to hold grudges.

  Lainie was a self-proclaimed expert in everything so I didn't want to apologize for not blindly drinking the Lainie Kool-Aide, but she was just as patronizing single as she was in a relationship and it didn't bother me before. That much anyway. Lainie hadn't changed as a result of her relationship with Antoine; I had changed as a result of her relationship with Antoine. Because I was jealous. For that, I wanted to apologize. Maybe not for being envious but for unleashing the bitch within. Or maybe for being bitter about her happiness. Or at least for sounding bitter about it. The truth was everything happened so quickly that I had no idea what I was sorry for. But harsh words were spoken and I knew I was primarily responsible for our fight. I also knew I had to express remorse in order to untie the guilt-imposed knot in my stomach.

  Although Lainie hadn't been spending much time in our apartment, I knew she was home that night because I saw light peeking through her bedroom door and Mary J. Blige softly playing on her stereo. When I heard her go to the bathroom, I quickly left my room and pretended to walk to the kitchen so I could see if Antoine was with her. He wasn't. That was a rarity of late and so I took it as my opportunity to have a chat.

  I sat on the edge of her bed, and while I waited for her to come out of the bathroom I leafed through one of her gossip magazines. Kim Kardashian was on the cover of almost all of them.

  “Can I help you?”

  I tossed the magazine to the side and looked up at Lainie. She was wearing a green facial mask and her almond-shaped eyes made her look like an alien. Trying to lighten the mood, I giggled and said, “Looking hot, Lainie.”

  “Hmm. I don't recall inviting you into my bedroom so if you want to insult me, do it from outside.” She stood by the side of her door and motioned towards the hallway.

  So much for keeping things light. “I was kidding. I just thought we should talk. I saw that Antoine wasn't here and figured it might be a good time.” I nervously tapped my foot against the wooden floor of her bedroom, reminded once again that Lainie had still not complied with our lease's eighty percent carpet rule.

  “I'm not going to feel guilty about having a boyfriend, Jane,” Lainie said, still not moving from the doorway of her room.

  Trying not to sound annoyed, I said, “I don't expect you to. That's why I'm here.” But why listen to me when you can hear the sound of your own voice?

  Finally moving, Lainie turned her desk chair so it was facing the bed and sat down. “OK, talk,” she said.

  Her feet were stretched out next to me on the bed and normally I'd have joked that they smelled, but I decided not to go there. “I haven't been myself lately and I know it's gotten in the way of my friendships, including ours. I'm sorry.”

  Looking me square in the eyes, she said, “How have you not been yourself? Because you've been immature, spoiled, and controlling? You were all those things when we met, Jane.”

  My cheeks burned as if she'd just slapped me across the face. I didn't want her to see me cry so I stood up and walked to her door. With my back to her, I wiped my eyes, said, “I'm sorry I bothered you” and started to walk out.

  “Oh fuck. Jane. Jane, come back.”

>   I turned around and walked back to her door. “Yes?” I didn't know if I could handle further attack on my character and held my breath.

  Standing up again, Lainie walked towards me. “I didn't mean… Oh crap, are you crying?”

  “No.” When my lips began to quiver and my vision blurred from the tears, I changed my answer. “Yes! Sorry!”

  “I shouldn't have been so blunt. I'm sorry.”

  “But you really feel that way?”

  Lainie didn't say anything. Our eyes locked and I silently pleaded with her to retract her comments. “Sometimes I feel that way. But, not always,” she said apologetically.

  I wasn't sure that made me feel any better. “OK.”

  “Most of the time, it's endearing. You're a type A, Jane, for sure. And you always think you're right.”

  Reddening, I said, “I always think I'm right? Pot. Kettle. Black.”

  Lainie's eyes widened behind the green goop on her face. “Me?”

  “Uh huh! ‘You should play the field, Jane.’ ‘The NYC dating world is a zoo, Jane.’ ‘You should listen to me, Jane.’ Sound familiar?”

  Lainie smiled for the first time. “Oh.”

  “Oh,” I echoed.

  “So, can we start over? What did you want to talk about?”

  “I had wanted to say…” I cleared my throat. “Before you so harshly summarized my most egregious attributes, that I realized you've just been trying to help me and I'm sorry I was a bitch about it.”

  “Apology heard and accepted. I know how difficult it is for you to admit when you're wrong.”

  “Yes. And I know how it pains you to rub it in my face.”

  Nodding in agreement, Lainie said, “Yes, painful. It hurts.” Faking a cry, she said, “Hurts so much.”

  “Oh, shut up, you alien!” I grabbed a magazine from her bed and threw it at her.

  Looking confused, Lainie said, “Alien?” Then she touched a finger to her face and yelled, “My mask!” Running out of the room, she shouted, “How long have we been talking?”

  “Not that long. Relax!” I said, laughing as I followed her into the bathroom and watched her scrub the mask off her face. “What did you think would happen? Your face would turn green permanently?”