A State of Jane

by Schorr, Meredith

  The nurse wouldn't let me see Claire so I sat in the waiting room and texted Marissa the news. Not a minute after I sent the text, she called me.

  Feeling uncomfortable talking on the phone from a hospital waiting room, I whispered, “Hi.” I made eye contact with the couple sharing my space and gave them a closed mouth smile.

  “So are you excited, Aunt Jane?”

  Still speaking softly, I said, “Totally. Just waiting for my parents to get here. Could be a while.”

  “Oh, yeah. Friday night traffic from Long Island? With any luck Grandma and Grandpa Frank might arrive in time for Baby Boy Williamson's first birthday!”

  I giggled at the thought of my mom as a grandmother. She still freaked out when her roots came in and some of the gray in her hair was visible.

  “Earth to Jane.”

  Jolted out of the vision of my mother in a house dress with her teeth in a glass by her bedside, I said, “I might have to postpone movie night. Depends on how Claire is. She might want me to come over.”

  “Or she might have postpartum depression and want nothing to do with you.”

  I bit my lip. “I hadn't thought of that.”

  “Don't worry. She'll probably be fine. But it happens sometimes.”

  “Thank God my mom will be here. I hope they don't want to sleep over at my place. Lainie and Antoine might be there.”

  “So? You afraid your parents will catch them humping on the kitchen table or something?”

  “Perish the thought! I eat off of that table!”

  “He he.”

  “So, get this.”

  “What?”

  “I met a woman on the Third Avenue bus a few months ago. I was in my ‘all about me’ phase and venting to the woman about Claire. She said her sister died and urged me to appreciate Claire while I still could. That very same night, Claire was admitted to the hospital.”

  “Interesting coincidence!” Marissa laughed.

  Anxious to tell her the rest, I said, “Wait. It gets better.”

  “Do tell!”

  “I ran into her again tonight on the same cross-town bus. The very same night Claire went into labor!”

  “Wow! I thought things like that only happened in movies. Bizarro world!”

  “I know!” Adopting a creepy voice, I said, “Do do doo do doo do, you just crossed into the Twilight Zone!”

  After we hung up, I glanced at the wall clock in the waiting room. Even in light traffic, it would probably be at least twenty minutes before my parents arrived. Kevin was with Claire, so having no one to talk to, I sent texts to Lainie, Bethany, and even Andrew to occupy my time.

  “Jane!”

  I looked up to see Kevin in scrubs grinning like a three-year-old boy. I quickly erased the text and stood up. “Did she have the baby?”

  “Not yet. Her contractions are getting closer though. I figured you'd want to know the status.” Glancing around, he said, “Your folks here yet?”

  “Nope. On their way.”

  “OK, I'm gonna call mine,” he said before walking to a corner of the waiting room.

  “Wait,” I called out.

  Kevin turned around and grinned. “Yeah?”

  I bet that wide grin had been on his face all day. I just hoped he had the common sense to remove it during Claire's contractions. “How's she doing?”

  “Surprisingly calm. Not yet screaming for an epidural, but that might have changed by now.”

  “Make sure they don't wait too long and lose the window of opportunity!”

  Kevin shook his head. “She'd kill someone before giving birth without drugs. Trust me.”

  “Good. OK, well, tell her I'm here and can't wait to meet little Nathaniel.”

  Kevin raised an eyebrow. “Nathaniel is it?”

  “Or whatever you two decide to name him,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Gotcha,” he said before walking away to make his call.

  For the next hour I flipped through the hospital's collection of New York Magazine but looked up every two minutes hoping to see my parents. My mom sent me periodic texts, updating their estimated time of arrival, but I was impatient. I also had to use the bathroom but didn't want to leave the room in case Kevin came back. Or in the event one of the doctors burst out the double doors bearing bad news. Despite the bed rest, I knew this was a relatively routine delivery and not an episode of Private Practice, but ever since my date with Andrew at Hillstone (the first one), I liked to prepare for the worst-case scenario.

  I decided the waiting game would be much more fun if the hospital invested in a movie room. There was a television, but I was too embarrassed to change the news station to something more exciting like CSI: New York. I returned the magazine to the stack, reclined my head and closed my eyes.

  “There she is. Sleeping.”

  With my eyes still closed, I said, “I'm not sleeping, just resting my eyes.” I opened them to see my mom standing over me with a large Barney's bag. “What's the story?” she said.

  Eyeing the bag, I said, “Do some shopping on your way?”

  My mom sat down next to me. “No. I brought my knitting needles. And a few magazines for your father.”

  “You're really getting into this grandma thing, aren't you? Since when do you knit?”

  “It has nothing to do with becoming a grandmother.” Removing what looked like the beginnings of a yellow bootie from the bag, she said, “We're reading all of those knitting novels in book club. Seems to be the newest ‘it’ activity. So Barbara and I signed up for lessons.”

  “Cute.”

  “I'm not cute, Jane. I'm trendy.”

  Standing up, I said, “And I'm dying to take a piss.”

  My mom's eyes opened wide in either amused or annoyed surprise. I wasn't sure which, and didn't want to stick around to find out. “Sorry. I really have to go.”

  Dismissing me with a wave of her hand, my mom said, “Don't let me stop you. Go!”

  After I went to the bathroom, I decided to be nice and buy coffee for my parents.

  Before I got to the coffee though, I walked past the vending machine which, as usual, beckoned to me with its tempting individual bags of Fritos and Cool Ranch Doritos. I said, “No thanks” but my stomach grumbled and I knew if I didn't succumb then, I'd be back within ten minutes. I decided on the healthier bag of Baked Lays, but somehow entered the code for the Cool Ranch Doritos instead. I squatted down to remove the chips from the machine and when I stood back up, felt a presence behind me.

  “I'll be out of your way in a second. I just want to get something for my…” I turned around mid-sentence, looked up at the tall, lanky guy sharing my space and felt my face turn white as I remembered doing a striptease for him.

  CHAPTER 55

  “Jim.” I firmly gripped the bag of chips and swallowed hard, remembering how I never heard from him again after a sexual encounter I barely recalled being party to.

  Jim removed his Tigers baseball cap from his head, ran his hands through his black hair, and put the hat back on, this time backward. “Hey Jane. Come here often?” he said cheerily, his facial expression hinting no recollection of how things ended between us.

  “Come here often?” Really? Embarrassment quickly turning to anger, I removed a hair from behind my left ear, twiddled it around my finger and coldly said, “Not quite. My sister is in labor.”

  Jim gave me a wide grin. “Awesome! Congrats. Wish I had such an exciting excuse to be here.”

  Was I supposed to care why he was there? As unenthusiastically as I could, I said, “Why are you here?”

  “Just being a good colleague. A guy on my team had trouble breathing at happy hour and we insisted he have it checked out.” Jim shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Not the Friday night festivities I was hoping for.”

  I couldn't believe I used to think his laugh lines were cute. And that he was actually a decent guy. Now I just thought they were signs of old age and he was prick. I narrowed my eyes at him and said, “
Yeah, I'm sure you'd rather be picking up chicks.” Jim didn't say anything and I watched his eyes dart around the room, probably to avoid eye contact with me. “So. It was nice, er, interesting seeing you again. But there's no reason to make small talk.”

  A film of red rising from his neck up to his face, Jim said, “Look, Jane, I'm sorry I never called you.”

  “First of all, please don't ‘look Jane’ me. I've moved on. But for the record, it was very douchey of you. Just because sex isn't mind-blowing the first time, doesn't mean it won't get better. It's certainly no reason to blow a girl off!”

  Looking embarrassed, Jim said, “Oh God, Jane. That's not why I didn't call.”

  “So you would have blown me off even if I screwed like a porn star?”

  Reddening more, Jim said, “No!”

  “I figured as much. Seriously? You're a dog!”

  Stammering, Jim said, “No. That's not, that's not what I… That's not what I meant.” He leaned his tall frame against the vending machine and removed his baseball cap again. “The truth is, Jane, I really liked you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I said, “Yeah, you made that abundantly clear.”

  “No, really. I thought you were adorable. And sweet. And romantic.” Jim looked down and shrugged. “Perfect really.”

  I was all of those things! “So you liked me so much that you couldn't bear dating me anymore? Is that the excuse you're gonna use for being a cowardly child and running away?”

  Jim shook his head, looking like an eight-year-old boy in a man's six-foot-two-inch body.

  “Well?” I did not feel the slightest bit guilty about bullying him.

  “The girls I met in the city before you were so insincere and desperate. And cynical! It's like they assumed I was dating a different girl every night and basically not willing to believe I was actually looking for a relationship. They'd tell me all about their other dates, the restaurants they went to, and even how many dates I'd need to take them on before they'd sleep with me.” Jim looked hard at me. “You weren't like that.”

  And yet you fucked me over! “I'm going to ask again. What happened?”

  Jim went to remove his baseball cap again and, infuriated, I quickly grabbed it from him and hid it behind my back. “Speak,” I demanded, wondering when I became such a tough bitch and kind of liking it.

  “You were so sweet on our first two dates, but, I don't know, you kind of changed.”

  “Changed how?”

  Jim rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. He opened them and said, “Well, you kind of freaked me out the way you threw yourself at me.”

  This time, it was my face that probably turned beet red as I took in his words. “Seriously? You're complaining that single girls in this city are insincere? Well, why do you think that is, Jim?”

  Jim looked at me blankly.

  “It's because of the men in this city! You dump us when we don't sleep with you. You dump us when we do sleep with you. And sometimes, you dump us for no reason at all!” I raised my arms and dropped them to my sides dramatically. “No wonder we're so cynical! I'll have you know that the only reason I slept with you was because I told the guy I dated before you that I wanted to take things slow and he blew me off. I liked you, Jim, but I didn't want to sleep with you so soon. I just thought I had to.” Feeling tears in my eyes, I rubbed them away. “I am sweet and I am sincere. And I'm a God-damn romance-aholic! I felt horrible when I never heard from you again.”

  Biting the nail on his thumb, Jim looked at me sheepishly. “I'm sorry, Jane. I did really like you. I didn't know. I just thought it was kind of weird and unexpected.”

  “Not weird enough to turn down my advances apparently.”

  Jim averted eye contact again. “Yeah. Uncool. But a pretty girl comes on to me, it's hard to resist, you know?”

  I sighed. “No. I really don't know. It's just impossible to play the game because the rules keep changing.”

  “That's just it. I don't want to play games at all.” Jim exhaled loudly. “Call me old-fashioned. Crap, the guys call me gay, but honest to God, I just want to meet the right girl and go from there.”

  I turned my back to Jim, leaned my head on the vending machine and muttered, “I don't want to play games either. I just want to love someone and be loved.” I raised my head and turned back around to face Jim. He was smiling at me. Smiling! “What are you smiling about?”

  Still grinning, he said, “It sort of looks like we want the same things, Jane.”

  After I let his words sink in, I nodded and gave a half smile back. “I guess we do.”

  “Do you think we can start over?”

  Start over? I'd cried over him! He disappeared on me without so much as a Post-it note. He ruined my parents’ anniversary party for me. And he put a damper on Claire's pregnancy announcement. He hurt me and I honestly didn't know if I could handle being disappointed again. I shook my head. “I don't know, Jim. That was then and this is now. And I barely know you. All I even remember about you is that you hate when your team loses football. And it's not even football season.” Was it football season? I really had no clue.

  “That's OK. I remember things about you.”

  “Like what?” Besides that I lacked the requisite stripping skills to get a job at the Bada Bing.

  Jim smiled softly. “I remember how thoughtful you were to pick a sports bar that had television screens at each booth so we wouldn't have to worry about getting a table near the wrong game. And how you agreed to a second date even after seeing my lack of sportsman-like behavior.” Jim paused and gazed into my eyes. “And I remember how much I liked kissing you.”

  I remembered that too.

  Jim took a step closer to me and reached for my hand. “So what do you say? Second chance?”

  Who was I kidding? I still thought his laugh lines were sexy. “OK. Second chance. But the second time better be the charm because there will be no third.” I squeezed his hand.

  “I'll take my chances.”

  “And there will be no strip tease this go-around!”

  Making a sad face, Jim said, “No strip tease?”

  I shook my head and pursed my lips. “Nope.”

  “Ever?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Well, I wouldn't say never. But not for a long, long time.” I looked at Jim's full lips as he bent his head towards mine. I felt the soft touch of his lips and mumbled, “Well, not until at least the fourth date this time.”

  Jim pulled away from me and raised an eyebrow. “Final answer?”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on my tippy toes and began to draw him in for another kiss. But as my lips met his, I quickly pulled away. “No.”

  “No, what?” Jim took a step closer to me, closing the distance between us.

  I stepped back but maintained eye contact. “No. It's not my final answer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can't make any promises about a fourth date until I know we'll actually have a first, second, and third date.”

  Jim moved towards me again, running his fingers up and down my arm. “I promise this time will be different.”

  I didn't move his hand away, but only because it felt nice. “We'll see. You give me a call, ask me for a proper date, and we'll take it from there. In the meantime, I have a nephew who, at this moment, might be taking his first breath. I gotta run.” I smiled sweetly at Jim, said, “See ya,” turned around and walked out of the cafeteria.

  As I made my exit, back straight and head held high, I knew full well that Jim was watching me, his mouth probably wide open. I kept smiling, not because of some presumptuous daydream about our honeymoon, but because I knew that no matter what happened, even if Jim never called, I'd be OK.

  EPILOGUE

  About Six Months later

  To: MOReilly@hotmail.com

  Hey Ris,

  Hope you're having a good day. I'm exhausted! I know I technically don't have a job and that babysitting Nathan doesn't exactl
y count, but preparing for this exam is killing me. We have to pair a six course meal with different wines. And I thought law school would be hard. Culinary school is kicking my arse! But if you can hold out until 10:30, you can eat my exam for a late dinner!

  I'll see you at home.

  Jane

  PS – Guess what? Remember that guy William I met last year at the Hoboken St. Patrick's Day parade? “Beauty Mark Guy”? I ran into him at Starbucks. He was meeting friends to practice for open mic night at Sidewalk Café. He said he'd been wondering how ‘Mary Poppins’ was doing but thought if he called, I'd accuse him of booty calling! He asked me on a date. I'm not sure it makes sense to go backwards – look how well it went with Jim… And he's younger than me! And I'm not sure how much money he makes if he's in a band.

  Whatev. I don't have to marry the guy.

  (Keep reading for a Bonus Excerpt from Blogger Girl by Meredith Schorr)

  BONUS EXCERPT FROM BLOGGER GIRL

  CHAPTER 1

  I SLID MY MOUSE back and forth between 4 and 4.5 pink champagne flutes. I couldn’t decide if the book, Gladly Never After, was 4.5 flutesworthy. The ending was a bit abrupt and the hero was kind of obvious from the beginning. At the same time, it was certainly an engaging story, so much so that I took every available opportunity to turn on my Kindle to see what happened next, even while squatting on the toilet between beers at happy hour.

  “Long!”

  I saved a draft of my review and stood up. “Yes, Rob?” I walked into his large fish-bowl shaped office knowing he wasn’t going to come to me. “What’s up?”