by Meg Cabot
My sister Janice has been seduced by another woman.
I know it’s shocking. My mother, rightfully, has forbidden Janice from ever communicating with the woman—her college roommate—again. But this girl has my sister so thoroughly under her spell that poor Janice apparently fancies herself a lesbian.
Which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, because of COURSE Janice isn’t a lesbian. I mean, yes, she’s always liked to keep her hair short, but she was never into sports as a child. True, she never played with Barbies like my sister Stacy, but she never expressed an interest in hiking, or even cargo pants.
I can only assume that this whole thing is a result of brainwashing on the part of the roommate. I don’t actually know what my parents expected, allowing Janice to go to Berkeley, of all the colleges in the world. But . . . well, I just wanted to let you know, Amy, so you would be fully aware of what, exactly, you’re getting yourself into, marrying into the Hertzog clan.
I hope you’ll call me when you get this e-mail. I tried phoning a little while ago, but they said you were attending a staff meeting. Just remember the most important thing: Darling . . . I love you.
Stuart
Stuart Hertzog, Senior Partner
Hertzog Webber and Doyle, Attorneys at Law
444 Madison Avenue, Suite 1505
New York, NY 10022
212-555-7900
* * *
To: Stuart Hertzog
Fr: Amy Jenkins
Re: Bad news
Darling! I can’t believe you’re worried about how I might be feeling at a time like this. You really are just the sweetest thing on earth. Please don’t bother your head about me. Your poor mother is the one you should be worrying about. What that woman has suffered because of your siblings! I don’t know how she bears it. Please send her my deepest sympathies.
And tell her not to worry. One of the girls in the Pi Delt house—a legacy, can you believe it?—went lesbian in grad school, but she snapped out of it two years ago. Some of the most happily married women in Manhattan are “hasbians,” and you’d never know it to look at them. I’m sure Janice will be fine.
Kisses,
Amy
Amy Denise Jenkins
Director
Human Resources
The New York Journal
216 W. 57th Street
New York, NY 10019
212-555-6890
[email protected]
This e-mail is intended only for the use of the individual to which it is addressed and may contain information that is privileged and confidential. If you are not the intended recipient, you are hereby notified that you have received this transmission in error; any review, dissemination, distribution, or copying of this transmission is prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please notify us immediately by reply e-mail and delete this message and all of its attachments.
* * *
To: Courtney Allington
Fr: Amy Jenkins
Re: Stuart’s sister
Get this: the youngest one? Not the older one who claims to be a witch and is married to one of the Park Avenue Trents (though what he sees in her, God knows), but the younger one? Yeah. Turns out she’s a full-on dyke.
What the hell am I going to do? I don’t want a carpet-muncher in my bridal party.
Drinks after work? I need anesthetizing.
Ames
Amy Denise Jenkins
Director
Human Resources
The New York Journal
216 W. 57th Street
New York, NY 10019
212-555-6890
[email protected]
This e-mail is intended only for the use of the individual to which it is addressed and may contain information that is privileged and confidential. If you are not the intended recipient, you are hereby notified that you have received this transmission in error; any review, dissemination, distribution, or copying of this transmission is prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please notify us immediately by reply e-mail and delete this message and all of its attachments.
* * *
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Stacy Trent
Re: Janice aka Sean
Okay, look: It’s not like it’s the world’s biggest surprise.
And the thing is, she’s better off realizing it now than later, after she’s married some dope and squeezed out a couple of kids.
Anyway. The thing is, what are we going to do with her? I know you don’t want her staying with you, because she’s screwing up your chances with Miss Girl of Your Dreams. But I don’t want her staying with me, because Jason can’t stand Bikini Kill. And that’s going to screw up MY chances of getting laid.
And God knows we could never get Stuart to take her. Not that I’d let her go, if he offered.
So what’s left? I mean, Mom. That’s it, basically. Maybe if we could get to Dad before she does and explain the whole thing, he might be able to talk Mom into leaving the poor kid alone. What do you think?
Stace
P.S. Doesn’t Mom ever watch TV? Doesn’t she know by now that telling a kid you don’t approve of them liking someone is almost like daring them to sleep with the person? Jesus. It’s like she doesn’t even live on this PLANET.
* * *
To: Stacy Trent
Fr: Stuart Hertzog
Re: Janice
I know you and Mitchell met today to discuss Janice. Don’t bother denying it, I saw you hiding behind that potted palm in the lobby.
Well, while you two were yukking it up at Gramercy Tavern or wherever, I actually did a little research, and found the solution to our problem.
There are several well-established and respectable organizations that will, for a fee, transport (forcibly, if necessary) a child to a sexual-orientation rehabilitation center. The most successful results have been achieved at one called Right Way, in Utah, where, during the course of six weeks of intensive therapy, she’ll be deprogrammed and ultimately made to see the error of her ways.
I’ve already given Right Way a call, and they do have an empty room at the moment. If we can get Janice there by this weekend, she’ll graduate well in advance of my wedding. I think it’s something we need to seriously consider. I’ve already discussed it with Mom, and she agrees: It’s clearly the appropriate way to handle the situation.
I know, of course, that Mitch—given the lowlifes with whom he used to associate—will get into his ultra-liberal “it’s genetics and not a choice” mode. But in Janice’s case, this whole lesbian thing is clearly just her acting out because she’s the youngest, and Mom and Dad never set appropriate boundaries for her. They were so worn out by Mitch that by the time Janice came along, they were just like, “Whatever you want to do, dear.”
Well, I for one won’t stand silently by while one of my siblings becomes a victim of left-wing politics and, eventually, a marginalized member of society. I’m hoping you, as one of the more rational members of this family, will back me up on this. Let me know.
Stuart
Stuart Hertzog, Senior Partner
Hertzog Webber and Doyle, Attorneys at Law
444 Madison Avenue, Suite 1505
New York, NY 10022
212-555-7900
* * *
To: Stuart Hertzog
Fr: Stacy Trent
Re: Janice
Have you been sniffing glue or something? I’m not going to hire some company to kidnap Janice and ship her off to Utah to get made not-gay. Christ, Stuart, how would you like it if we hired a company to kidnap you and make you not marry a bitch with a stick up her ass?
Not so much, huh?
Leave
Janice to Mitch and me. I think we can handle her.
Stacy
* * *
To: Stacy Trent
Fr: Margaret Hertzog
Re: Janice
Stacy, Stuart forwarded your last, exceptionally rude, e-mail to him. I couldn’t believe—until I read it with my own eyes—that you would ever say something so cruel about your own brother’s fiancée. Amy is a lovely girl. I can only think this “stick” business is due to the influence of Mitch. Stuart told me that Mitch is apparently besotted with a young woman whom, I understand, Amy was forced to fire for lying—under oath, no less. While it doesn’t surprise me in the least that Mitch is associating with such a person, what DOES astonish me is that you would condone—even encourage—such a relationship.
I have to be honest with you, Stacy. I think Janice’s choosing to stay with Mitch at this crucial time in her psychosexual development is a very bad idea. Mitch will only ENCOURAGE the unnatural feelings Janice has for this horrible Sarah person. I happen to know for a fact that he once made a donation to the Rainbow Coalition. If that is not condoning perverse sexual practices, I don’t know what is.
Anyway, I would just like to suggest, young lady, that you apologize to your brother for saying such a nasty thing about his fiancée. And you had better do it soon, because I heard from your father a little while ago. He’s coming home.
At last.
Never mind that it took finding out that his youngest daughter is having a lesbian affair to do it. He’s on his way. Think about THAT.
Mom
* * *
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Stacy Trent
Re: Mom
Dad’s coming home. Because of the whole Janice thing. Just thought you should know.
Oh, also, I really hope you aren’t thinking about marrying this Kate girl. Because I don’t think Mom’s gonna be real receptive to having her in the family.
Not, of course, that something like that would ever stop you. But it might bother your girlfriend a little.
S
* * *
To: Stacy Trent
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog
Re: Mom
Marry her? I can’t even seem to get five minutes alone with her without her ex or one of my family members bursting in on us.
But I’ll tell you something . . . I’ve got a feeling about this one. Kate, I mean.
Okay, yeah, so far I’ve managed to get her fired, and set her up in a living situation I wouldn’t exactly call ideal, given that there’s a six-foot-five German ski instructor residing there as well.
But I plan on making it up to her. Getting her a job. And then maybe the living situation thing will take care of itself.
Although I’ll have to get my little sister out of the guest room for that to happen.
One step at a time. . . .
Mitch
You’ve reached Ready Lock. Locked out? Don’t call a friend! Call Ready Lock. Locks changed, keys made while you wait. Just leave a message, and Ed will get back to you in five minutes—guaranteed.
(Tone)
Eddie, it’s me, Mitch Hertzog. You remember. Your lawyer for that little imbroglio you got into in Kip’s Bay. You told me if there was ever anything you could do for me, just name it. Well, I think I’ve finally got something you can do for me. Give me a call.
(Click)
* * *
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog
Re: Kate
Hi, Jen. Thanks for putting me in touch with your division’s IT guy. Unfortunately, Tim wasn’t able to give me the kind of help I was hoping for. I did, however, just speak to someone who happens to be an expert in the area of data retrieval. And I was thinking that if you and I put our heads together, we might be able to do something to help rectify the situation.
With Kate, I mean. And her current state of unemployment.
Of course, what I’m suggesting will involve—well, nothing illegal, exactly. But something that might, if it’s found out, get you into trouble. Possibly even fired. I wouldn’t even ask you to get involved if it wasn’t for the fact that there is absolutely no other way, that I can tell, around it.
Anyway, if you’re up for it, give me a call. You have my card.
And it’d be really great if you wouldn’t mention any of this to Kate just yet. It might not pan out, and I’d hate to get her hopes up for nothing. Thanks.
Mitch
* * *
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: Kate
Are you kidding? You can count me in.
Just name the date and time, and I’m your girl.
J
* * *
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Dale Carter
Re: Vivica
Look, Viv told me how you won’t answer her e-mails and shit. And I can understand why you might be mad, Kate. I mean, it might seem like one minute I was, you know, confessing my undying love for you in the lobby of your office building, and the next minute, I was, um, making out with a supermodel.
But the truth is if I thought there was even a CHANCE you might come back to me, I’d drop Vivica in a New York minute. Whatever that is.
But hell, Kate, you made it pretty clear last time I saw you that it was over between us. So I thought I’d take your advice, you know, and move on.
If you’ve changed your mind and want to get back together, though, just say the word. We’re leaving for tour in a few days, but you could still fully sign on as like, costume mistress or something, and travel with us in the RV.
That’s right, Kate. We get to go across country in our own RV. Just like your mom.
Don’t get me wrong, Vivica’s hot and all, and she’s nice, too. But nobody could ever hold up a candle to you Kate. Just say the word, and I’m yours again.
Dale
* * *
To: Dale Carter
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Vivica
Hold a candle. Not hold UP a candle.
And the reason I haven’t answered Vivica is because I’ve been busy, Dale. But really, I think it’s great about the two of you, I hope you’ll be really happy together. I mean it. I’m glad you’re moving on, because I am, too.
At least, I’m trying to.
Take care, Dale. And good luck coming up with a rhyme for Vivica.
Kate
* * *
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Sean
Re: Last night
Hi. I found your e-mail address in my brother’s address book. I just wanted to say thanks for being so understanding and everything last night. You’re a really cool person. You made me feel like I’m not this enormous freak which, frankly, I’ve kind of suspected lately that I really am.
So. Thanks.
And I’m sorry I messed up your evening with my brother. But if it’s any consolation, I think he really likes you, because you’re all he can talk about. Like he practically killed me after you left for crashing your dinner. And he’s never been that way about any girl before.
So . . . talk to you later.
Sean
* * *
To: Vivica
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Dale
Dear Vivica,
Sorry I didn’t write sooner, but things have been kind of . . . hectic. I mean, I lost my job, and I sort of don’t have a real place to live—Dale can tell you more about that, though.
Anyway, in answer to your questions abo
ut Dale, to the best of my knowledge, he’s never tried to kill anybody. Once this guy threw a bottle at him while he was on stage in Jersey City, and Dale and he got into a fight, but that was totally provoked. And they were able to reattach the guy’s finger just fine.
I don’t really know Dale’s opinion on driftwood sculpture—I don’t think either of us has ever seen any of that. Kentucky is a landlocked state, you know.
But I’m sure Dale doesn’t DISLIKE driftwood sculpture. And yes, he is good with pets. He even had a dog for most of the time we were going out, until it got kicked in the head by a cow (long story).
