***
Sophie’s housewarming get-together could not have fallen on a more beautiful summer day, especially considering it was August. The sun wasn’t beaming intolerable heat, and the humidity levels were surprisingly low. It was the perfect day to lounge by or in the pool, or simply relax in the shade. And all of that was exactly what the girls and I spent much of our time doing that Sunday afternoon by Sophie’s new apartment pool.
Her new, modernly designed and freshly furnished one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment in the very gentrified neighborhood of Belltown, a very short distance from her job, was a perfect fit for Sophie and this new step in her life. She’d crossed her fingers she’d get the fourth floor apartment—the one that had the best sliver of a view of Elliot Bay from a small balcony—as opposed to the only other vacant apartment in the complex, which was on the first floor. Luck would have it the other interested party bailed out at the last minute, leaving Sophie to claim her fourth floor home. She couldn’t have been happier, and we all couldn’t have been happier for her. This was a big step for Sophie. Finally breaking free from the comfort and reliability that came with living with her best friend, Claire, Sophie was stepping out on her own; said she was adamant about starting fresh and keeping her chin up. I could totally relate.
“And look at all the closet space,” Sophie gushed, opening up her built-in, and somewhat walk-in-sized bedroom closet. “And there’s tons of random storage space in this place, too. Like for all the pots and pans and coats and cleaning supplies and all that random stuff. Lots of closet space!” Sophie was beaming with pride and excitement over her domain as she concluded her tour.
“Nice pad,” Jackie said, taking a seat on the sofa. “You scored here.”
“Yeah, and everything looks so new,” Claire said. “The paint job, the wood floors, the kitchen. Not bad, girl. Not bad at all.”
“This building used to be run-down office space, but some architect came in and wanted to flip it. Apparently he’s flipped a few of the buildings around here—mostly into apartments and townhouses and such.” Sophie passed around a bowl of fruit.
“And it looks like the boys managed to put together all of the furniture for you,” I said.
“Those boys. Give them pizza and beer and they’ll do anything.”
“Or a little weed,” Jackie said, tossing her head back dramatically and laughing.
The rest of us exchanged quizzical looks while Jackie ate some grapes.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re not doing that as much anymore, are you, Jack?” Sophie asked, herself munching on some of the tasty fruit. “The pot. You really should kick the habit.”
“Oh, only once in a blue moon.”
“Like what, once a month?” Sophie’s voice was harsh. We all disapproved of Jackie’s smoking habits, not to mention her cigarette-smoking habits, but Sophie, in particular, never felt the need to hide even a fraction of her disapproval of Jackie’s less-than-savory behavior. “Once a week? A day? What’s ‘once in a blue moon’ to you?” Sophie pressed.
“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Jackie said lightheartedly. “I haven’t smoked in forever. Not since I’ve started going with Andrew.” She looked proud of herself, as if withholding the urge to smoke a whole month was something to toot your horn about.
“Wow, a whole month, Jack,” I said, half-joking.
“Actually, for your information, and if you must know,” Jackie threw back a few more grapes, “it was more than a month ago since I last smoked. And I wasn’t carrying any on me. I just accepted.”
“Well that’s something,” Claire said, with an obvious hint of sarcasm that Jackie totally missed. “A real step up there.”
“Thanks!” Jackie smiled brightly and continued snacking.
Sophie told her she shouldn’t hang out with losers like that, or associate with anyone who carried the illegal stuff on them. She could get into real trouble. Jackie replied with an “Andrew will help me, then,” and took us all by surprise when she added, “Besides, we’re all one to talk about ‘associations.’” She motioned quotation marks with her fingers on her last word. “For your information, it was Chad who offered me a little smoke. Up at his parents’ place. For the Fourth of July.”
We all groaned, threw up our hands in surprise and dismay, telling her how immature that was of the two of them.
“Hey,” Jackie said defensively, “he had some on him, asked me if I wanted to share one and…well…let me just say that we shared more than a little smoke.”
Claire: “What?”
Lara: “What the hell does that mean?”
“Oh my God, Jackie,” I said. “What happened between you two?”
Jackie was so nonchalant, munching on fruit and waving the topic off with a flick of her manicured hand. “It was no big deal.”
“Like hell it’s no big deal!” Claire said, eyes wide. She kneed her way across the living room rug, getting closer to Jackie, practically right in her face. “Are you saying you actually did something with Chad?”
Jackie only smiled.
“Jackie Anderson, you big ho!” Lara said, giving her a light slap on the thigh. “You did not sleep with Chad Harris.”
Jackie put a purple grape between her lips and made a fish face.
I glanced at Sophie, whose expression was without. She even looked slightly pale.
“Tell us! Tell us!” Claire urged.
“It wasn’t a big deal or anything. We were smoking a little…you know…getting the buzz on. We’d had a few drinks already—”
“Wait, when was this? Where were we all?” Claire interrupted.
“Oh, you know…when you all went out kayaking. When Sophie was out at the market. We figured why not strike up the doobie and have some fun? And, well…one thing led to another…and…”
“You big ho!” Lara said. “I cannot believe you, Jack. Chad? My God.” Despite Lara’s shock, a slight smile played her lips.
“Hey, I’m not the only one who’s had a fling with Chad,” Jackie deflected, looking straight at Sophie, whose face still lacked any expression or color.
“Still,” Claire said. “That was Sophie in rebellion. And that was years ago. Sophie and Chad…with alcohol. In the past. But this! Jackie, you crazy girl.”
“What?” Jackie asked. “How’s it any different? That was Sophie and Chad, this was Jackie and Chad. With some dope and a few drinks and…what? Don’t look at me like that. We were horny. What can I say? I was unattached and, girls, let me tell you, I’d been without for much too long. Thank God Andrew finally showed up.”
“So Chad, what, tied you over until then?” I asked, perplexed about the whole matter, regardless of how Chad seemed to be simple fling material for more than one of us.
“You could say that,” Jackie giggled. “It’s not a big deal, girls. Come on.”
“Well, I think it’s a big deal. And I’m surprised,” Claire said.
“I’m not,” Jackie said. “Chad’ll do it with anything that walks. And, sometimes, girls, so will I.” She started into a personal fit of laughter.
“You people have the scruples of farm animals,” Sophie said in a stern voice, and the rest of us were thrown into a fit of unintended laughter. “I’m serious!” she proclaimed. “What is with you people? It’s not funny.”
Jackie stopped laughing and tried her best to turn on her most staid face. “No need to get your panties in a twist over it, Sophie.”
“At least I wear panties.”
That’s it—this whole exchange was too much to bear. Sophie and Jackie had us rolling on the floor.
“Hey, I wear panties!” Jackie said.
“Yeah, crotch-less ones.” I couldn’t help myself.
“Oh, good one, Robin!” Claire cried.
“Come on, Sophie, what’s the big problem?” Jackie said. “It was just a quick and lousy lay. Who cares?”
“It was lousy?” Lara asked, surprised.
Jackie pop
ped another grape into her mouth. “Although I must say all those tats he’s been collecting were a bit of a turn on. Definitely has that whole bad boy vibe going. It made me a feel a little naughty. And naughty can be good sometimes, girls.” She ate a few more grapes, then said with a full mouth, “He is ripped. Has a body to die for. Ain’t bad there, right Sophie?”
“But lousy? You said lousy?” Claire asked. She looked stunned.
“Kind of. I mean, I was tripped out of my mind so it’s not like I’m really the best judge. But I guess lousy, yeah.”
“Sophie said Chad was the best she’s ever had,” Claire said.
Sophie’s face finally had color—bright red with anger.
“Claire!” Sophie shouted, the first word she’d said in a while. The room grew quiet.
“Look, Sophie,” Jackie said. “I didn’t mean to get your feathers all ruffled. Chill. It’s not like Chad or I were in relationships with anyone. He was free; I was free. We had some dope. We had some fun. That’s all. Casual sex. No harm done. God, don’t have a cow over it. What? Do you have some underlying affection for Chad?”
I didn’t think it was possible, but Sophie’s face grew a darker shade of red. “No!” she said, squinting her eyes and shaking her head dramatically. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t feel anything for that guy. That pig! He really will sleep with anything.”
“Hey, that’s not nice,” Lara said, ready to disarm two girls about to break out in battle. “Break it up already.”
Sophie’s face started to cool. “Sorry, Jackie,” she said, quickly. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m shocked, that’s all.”
Jackie didn’t take much offense, and ended the conversation with, “It’s in the past. And I guess it wasn’t that lousy. He did have some good moves. Not bad rhythm. But then again, it was hard to judge.”
“From the high?” Claire asked, her lips curled.
“Well that, and we were in the laundry room riding the washing machine.”
And another burst of uproarious laughter; even a tiny smile at the corner of Sophie’s mouth.
Jackie, Jackie…what could any of us say? Always up for a quick romp, always able to get us squealing. Always something out of this world.
“Onto a less dirty topic,” Lara said after the Jackie and Chad memories that had been conjured up were laid to rest, and once we had all meandered out to the pool to relax, oiled up or coated in sunscreen. “How are those bakery plans going, Sophie? Now that you’re more independent…have your own apartment now. You seriously going to take those next steps finally?”
“You know, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Sophie said. “I still definitely want to open up my own shop, but with the baby coming and all…and with my brother moving to London for a year…” She propped herself up on her elbows and shaded her eyes with one hand. With her hair done up in a tall twist, her large pearl earrings still on, and her cat-eye sunglasses over her eyes, she was a dead ringer for Audrey Hepburn. Too freaking adorable. Although I’d have to say I didn’t look half bad myself; this very large (and still growing larger by the day) tummy of mine actually suited my bikini. I was kind of digging the pregnant chick in a bathing suit look.
“I feel maybe now’s not the best time to aggressively work on the café, you know?” Sophie said. “So much is going on right now. And I’m not saying all of this because I’m trying to make excuses. I think waiting awhile is the best thing for me right now. I’m getting back on my feet after Brandon—after I have a new place of my own after how many years?” She pushed her sunglasses further up onto her nose. “And I want to be able to spend my free time helping you out with the baby, Robin. I can’t run off to London for a few weeks in the middle of trying to open up a shop. And I’m obviously not missing out on the opportunity to visit my big brother because I have a new store to manage.”
“I think that’s a wise choice,” I said. “When you’re good and ready to open up your bakery, you will.”
“Yeah,” Claire said cheerfully. She started to reapply another layer of sunscreen. I think this was her third application in under an hour. Silly girl. She probably recently read an article in Reader’s Digest about the top ten preventative measures everyone should take against skin cancer, and took it to an exaggerated length. “And in the meantime you can keep practicing your recipes on us.”
We got to talking about how things were going for Jackie and Andrew (apparently he was still just as sweet and dreamy now as Jackie made him out to be when she started seeing him). Good news on that front. I shared the news that Kaitlyn and I were still keeping in touch and actually having a sisterly relationship; that was something new and exciting for sure! And I even brought up Bobby, about how we were forming a nice friendship and how I hoped something along the lines of romance would stem from it. But I wasn’t going to hold my breath. Remember, let the chips fall where they may.
Chapter Seventeen
I was so anxious I couldn’t stop chewing on my nails, and my cuticles, and my lips. It was a dreadful habit when I was extremely nervous that I’d tried to beat time and again. When the going got tough, though, like when my future at Forster & Banks was held in the balance, I couldn’t stop myself. My long-awaited review with Mr. Lober had arrived and I not only wanted that raise and a glowing review, I needed it. Brandon’s promised child support checks had yet to come floating my way (big surprise there). My wages would suffice, and sure Lara would be there for me if I were in a pinch, but I wanted to be able to support myself and my baby without always having my hand held out. I could do it. I had the college degree. I had the experience. I did have a great reputation at the firm. Why shouldn’t I get the raise?
Ugh. No pep talk is going to help today.
I stopped chewing on my nails for a second and resorted to mindlessly scrolling through my email’s inbox. No new message.
Of course there wouldn’t be. You checked only thirty seconds ago. Wait! How about my personal email?
I typed in the Gmail address and logged in to my personal account. My scheduled review with Mr. Lober was already five minutes overdue. His previous meeting with another employee who also happened to be up for review was taking longer than expected.
Oh this anticipation is eating at me!
Once my Gmail loaded my eyes noticed without a second’s hesitation that I had a new message from Emily.
Oh yay! I wonder what she has to say.
The email was addressed to all of the girls—one mass message that we usually expected from Emily on a monthly or bi-monthly basis.
Hey all my chicas!
How are things back at home?
Sophie: You still planning on a trip to London to visit John? Do it. That city’s filled with history! I’ll so join you!
Claire: Conner pop the question yet? (Sorry to bring it up if he hasn’t. Trust me though, he will!!)
Robin: A girl? (Thanks for sharing the latest ultrasound pics, BTW). Congrats! So you’re going to name her Emily, right? ;-)
Jackie: Have you burned my place down yet? Or have you found your lover man, leaving my home to fill with dust? Seriously, email me back, girly!!!
Lara: Hope work is treating you well. I say you need to take a sabbatical from the grind and come join me in Ghana. It’ll change your life!
And speaking of Ghana. Girls…don’t get upset. I’ve decided to prolong my stay here. The village really needs me. The school’s nowhere near complete. (Lax construction deadlines aren’t any different over here than they are in Seattle.) Anyway, the school still needs work and I’m spiritually not ready to leave. Much too much to do. But I promise I’ll be home in time for baby Emily’s (wink-wink) birth. I promise you, Robin! I’ll be home after Thanksgiving, girlies.
Got to go. Getting a shipment of two-by-fours in so we can get some more progress underway with the school. Always exciting! Kisses and hugs all around.
XOXO
Emily
I contemplated sending her a reply, uncertain o
f when Mr. Lober would conclude his current meeting and commence mine, but before I could make a decision, my phone rang. It was time for my review.
“Good luck,” Bobby whispered, as I passed by his desk, on the way to Mr. Lober’s office.
“Thanks.”
“We’re still on for lunch afterward?”
“Yeah. Either celebratory or mournful.”
***
“Congratulations, Robin!”
Bobby and I clinked our soda and water glasses over what was fortunately a celebratory lunch together. Mr. Lober sang only praises about my past year’s worth of work during my review, and he was sure that I’d continue to “impress the Board, and inspire colleagues” (his words, not mine) for many years to come. He awarded me the attractive raise I had hoped for, and added a small lift in my annual bonus package. And the best part of the review was that he said I should consider the project management position in the event the author in question signed on with Forster & Banks. No promises, although I should certainly consider the position and leave my options open.
“It couldn’t have gone any better!” I said to Bobby. “Couldn’t have asked for a better review. I’m so happy.”
“You’re a shoo-in for the PM position then.” He took a big bite of his salad.
“I wish. I know the opportunity is there, but no promises. The boss even said ‘no promises.’ At least I’ve got a shot, though.”
“I bet you’ll get it. I hope you get it.”
I finished chewing, then said, “Aren’t you interested in the position?”
Bobby shook his head.
“Why not? It’d be a big promotion. It’s not every day we sign a new author. And you want a long-term career at the firm. Why not try for it?”
“This is how I see it,” he started, leaning in closer to me, his fork in his hand. “I may be wanting to move my way up—get the promotions and the fancy titles and all that jazz. Obviously moving my way up the corporate ladder and whatnot is ideal, especially since I want to keep at this firm for a long time to come. But I want to go about it the right way, you know what I mean?”
When Girlfriends Step Up Page 19
