The Subway Girls_A Novel

by Susie Orman Schnall

  Charlotte was silent. She felt numb. Like her brain was so overloaded with virulent stimuli that it wasn’t allowing her to process any of it. She took a deep breath and tried to make sense of it all.

  “Did you consider Rose’s idea of adopting the baby?” Charlotte asked in a cold voice.

  “To be honest, at first I thought she was out of her mind. I even asked her to take care of it. I was angry and confused and have heard guys talking about that sort of thing. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought that I would take the baby. Rose doesn’t want to be a mother. And I don’t think anyone should become a mother who doesn’t want to. What kind of life does that make for the child?”

  “You would take the baby?”

  “Yes, I would. I think that’s the right thing to do. Ideally, when I think about having a baby, I would like to raise it with you as my wife. But I understand I may have just done absolutely everything in the world to prevent that from ever happening.”

  “Oh, Sam, this is all too much.”

  “I know, Charlotte. It is all too much. So let me say what I know to be true and clear. I love you. I am going to be a father. I want nothing else in this world than to be married to you when I become a father, to be a parent with you. I know that’s so much to ask, too much to ask, Charlotte. Way, way, way too much to ask. But please, if you can, please just consider it.”

  Charlotte looked into Sam’s eyes. It was her Sam, staring at her imploringly.

  “Let’s just say I do consider it, which I’d be crazy to even do, but what about my future? There’s so much I want to do. I’m not ready to stay home with a baby.”

  “I’ve thought about that. And we could either have my mother watch the baby, or maybe your mother would want to help. And if neither of them does, we could hire a nanny. I’ve been saving my salary, and we have enough money to move into an apartment. It would be small, but it would be ours.”

  “I have to go, Sam. My head feels as if it’s about to burst,” Charlotte said, standing up and turning toward the door.

  “I understand, Charlotte. Can I see you tomorrow once you’ve had some time to think about it?”

  “Sure,” she said, then reconsidered. “No, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not sure I’m going to even give it a passing thought. And if I do, the chances of accepting such a ludicrous proposal is altogether unlikely. If the world turns upside down and somehow this seems like a reasonable idea, I’ll be in touch.”

  And with that, Charlotte opened the door and saw herself out.

  * * *

  Before going home, Charlotte stopped at JoJo’s to change out of her Miss Subways clothes. She couldn’t waltz into her own house in that number.

  When Charlotte entered her bedroom, JoJo was sitting up in her bed, drinking tea, and reading a magazine.

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there today to support you, Charlotte! This flu is a real pain in the neck. Tell me everything!” JoJo said, blowing her nose and tossing the tissue into an overflowing trash can. She patted the bed next to her, but Charlotte shrewdly, in light of the attendant germs, chose JoJo’s vanity chair on the opposite side of the room.

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” Charlotte said, shaking her head. “There’s way too much to tell.”

  “That’s wonderful!” JoJo said.

  “Hold your wonderfuls until the end of the story.” Then Charlotte told JoJo everything that had happened, starting with the Miss Subways launch and ending with Rose and Sam.

  “He’s the what?” JoJo had shouted when Charlotte told her that particular nugget.

  “I don’t know whether to laugh at the absolute absurdity of this mess or to cry at how awful it all is,” Charlotte said.

  “Sam said he would raise the baby on his own?”

  “Yes, JoJo, but don’t be getting all sentimental about that poor man raising a baby all by himself.”

  “Sorry. It’s all just so unthinkable. And the nerve of that Rose. If I ever meet her, I don’t know what I’d say. Or do. So what are you going to do, Charlotte?”

  “Are you even suggesting I should do something?”

  “Well, maybe,” JoJo said, tilting her head at Charlotte and raising her eyebrows. “Let’s just go there for a minute, and let’s start with Sam. Pretend this Rose and the baby situation doesn’t even exist. I can’t believe I just uttered those words. But let’s just go with Sam for a minute. Are you with me?”

  “I’m with you,” Charlotte said tentatively.

  “Sam did something awful. We all know it was awful. Sam admits—”

  “Now he admits. Now that he’s been caught.”

  “Yes, true. But he still admitted it, and better late than never, Charlotte. He is a man, after all.”

  “Don’t let him off the hook for doing something atrocious just because he’s a man.”

  “I’m not letting him off the hook. I’m just saying that he wouldn’t be the first man in the world to do something utterly asinine and then realize how utterly asinine it was. And you wouldn’t be the first woman in the world to take back said man and forgive him because said man loves you more than I’ve ever seen a man love a woman.”

  “You’ve barely seen any couples in love, JoJo. Your reasoning is faulty.”

  “I’ve seen plenty in the pictures, Charlotte,” JoJo said, raising her hands in the air.

  “Oh, great. That’s a terrific basis for comparison.” Charlotte laughed despite herself.

  “So back to starting with Sam. Is there any possible way you would consider getting back with him?”

  “Why would you even want me to be with a man like that?” Charlotte asked.

  “Because I don’t think he’s a man like that. And I don’t think you think he is either.”

  “Ah, but he is. He showed us he is. He is a man like that, JoJo.”

  “Come on, Charlotte. You know what I mean. There are men like that and there are men who might do that but aren’t like that. And you know with every bone and blood vessel and nerve and whatever else is in your body that Sam’s the latter and that’s the plain and honest truth.”

  Charlotte just stared out the window.

  “Right, Charlotte?” JoJo demanded.

  “Right, JoJo,” Charlotte whispered.

  “Okay, we’re getting somewhere. So there is this tiny hope that someday, with enough groveling on his part, you might consider getting back with Sam,” JoJo said, taking a deep breath, as if this whole exercise was exhausting her, which in her state, it probably was. “Now, do you want children one day? Don’t think too hard about it—just answer the question.”

  “Yes, Judge JoJo. Yes, I believe I want children one day.”

  “Great. Thank you for your direct answer and for not trying to evade the line of questioning.”

  “You’re welcome.” Charlotte was smiling. She was so lucky to have a friend like JoJo, who would overthink this whole situation so Charlotte didn’t have to do it alone.

  “Sadly enough, due to your endometriosis, you won’t be able to conceive a baby. Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry, Charlotte,” JoJo said, dropping the Justice of the Supreme Court act for a moment.

  “I know, JoJo. It’s okay. I’m used to the idea by now.”

  “And you would have had to adopt a baby, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “And now you have an opportunity, a really sicko opportunity but one just the same, to adopt a baby that is biologically half Sam’s.”

  “Yes, and biologically half Racy Rose’s.”

  “True. But still biologically half Sam’s. And available.”

  “But my career, JoJo. And our future agency. A baby would hold me back.”

  “I hate to say it, Charlotte, and please forgive me, but your career right now is looking like it might be based on understanding the finer points of a paintbrush. Perhaps this is one way of avoiding that fate.”

  “Don’t think I hadn
’t thought of that.”

  “But let’s say you do find a way to work in advertising; there are mothers who work, Charlotte. You wouldn’t be the first to hire a nanny. I know it’s completely outside the strictures of our chauvinistic society, and we’ll probably be shunned for it by most of our friends, never mind our mothers’ friends, for doing something so unwomanly and something that defies all proper and conventional maternal instincts, but we don’t really care about all that, do we? I’m planning on doing it someday too, although first I need a boy to just ask me out for a milk shake.”

  Both girls stared at each other in silence.

  “How did you just do that?” Charlotte finally asked.

  “Do what?” JoJo said, and sniffled.

  “Get me to even consider all of this?”

  “Because believe it or not, Charlotte, I don’t think it’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. At first I did. And I think the whole thing is appalling and awful and downright crazy, but when you break it down into its parts and consider that the two parents would be you and Sam, I think it’s got potential.”

  “You’re insane. Just like the rest of them,” Charlotte said, starting to unzip her dress. She took her street clothes out of the closet and began changing into them.

  “Perhaps I am. Perhaps it’s this awful flu that’s making me think funny because normally we would be reversed in situations like this. You would be the sentimental one trying to convince me that something is a good idea, and I would be the one turning it into Swiss cheese and telling you you’re out of your mind.”

  Charlotte laughed and hung the blue dress on a hanger.

  “Mind if I leave this here for a while?”

  “Be my guest,” JoJo said, gesturing to her closet. “But I charge rent.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The rent payment is you have to think about Sam’s suggestion and my reasoning. Just think about it, Charlotte. Sam is the man for you. And there’s a baby! I know it’s early. I know you’re young. You’re so young. But sometimes life presents opportunities at inopportune times. And sometimes you have to ignore all the reasons to say no even if there are a lot of them, and go with the reasons to say yes.”

  CHAPTER 20

  OLIVIA

  MONDAY, MARCH 12, 2018

  When Olivia emerged from the subway, back in Manhattan, she called Priya.

  “Where have you been? I’ve actually been worried,” Priya said, a distressed tone in her voice.

  “Sorry, Priya. I lost it. I had to get out of there.”

  “It was a shit show, Liv.”

  “What happened?” Olivia decided at that point to walk toward her apartment and not back to the office.

  “Matt said that, though he liked both ideas, the ‘Star Car’ was more out-of-the-box and he thought it would make for a better presentation. He thought our ‘Take You Places’ idea was good to keep in the back pocket in case the client balked at the budget of the ‘Star Car,’ but he was going to go with that. He thought ours was a little safe. Anyway, since you weren’t there, I brought up to Matt that they had stolen our idea, and Pablo and Thomas unequivocally denied that and said you were just jealous because their idea was better. Matt decided that since you weren’t there to state your case, he was just going to go with them. He seemed annoyed that you weren’t there. I told him you were having a family emergency and you needed to go home.”

  “Thanks for covering for me. I’ll be honest with you, I’m not sure if I want to work with Matt anymore. I didn’t realize I was done until I walked out, and now I’m not so eager to ever step foot back in there.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Not sure, but I’ll start by calling HR at Y&R to beg for my old job back. Just last week I thought that if I lost my job at The Osborne Agency, it would be a disastrous, end-of-the-world situation, but now I realize I was afraid of losing something else, something I honestly don’t care about anymore.”

  “Well, keep me posted, Liv. What do you think will happen to me?”

  “You’ll be fine. I’ll call Matt tomorrow and tell him that I promised you a huge severance package if you left so he better not let you go if the MTA account doesn’t come through.”

  * * *

  “Olivia, there you are!”

  Olivia exited the elevator on her floor and found Mrs. Glasser sitting in a chair in the hallway, her apartment door closed.

  Olivia’s first thought was that Mrs. Glasser was locked out of her apartment, but then why the chair? And that noise? Why was the television on so loudly in her apartment?

  “Here I am.”

  “I called you at your office, but they said you weren’t there.”

  “Why didn’t you call my cell phone?”

  “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  Olivia didn’t understand the logic but just went with it.

  “Why aren’t you at work?” Mrs. Glasser asked.

  “Worst long story ever. But I don’t think I work there anymore.”

  “For crying out loud, what are you talking about?”

  Olivia briefly explained what had happened with the pitch.

  “Some things never change. Come in for some tea and we’ll talk about it.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Glasser. I would love to. But I actually am going to visit a friend, and I have to pack and get to the airport.” Olivia didn’t want to tell Mrs. Glasser she was going with Ben. Too soon to get the whole family involved.

  “Olivia, come inside,” Mrs. Glasser said firmly, standing up and opening her door. When she did, the noise stopped.

  Olivia looked over Mrs. Glasser’s shoulder and saw that her apartment was filled with elderly women.

  Mrs. Glasser held the door open, and all of the women stared at Olivia.

  “Is that her, Charlotte?” one of the women asked.

  Mrs. Glasser nodded. “Olivia,” she said, “here are your Miss Subways.”

  Olivia was shocked. She looked at the faces. All smiling. All looking at her expectantly. A half shudder/half laugh escaped her, and she felt her eyes tearing up.

  Mrs. Glasser nudged Olivia and she took a step forward into the apartment. Then Mrs. Glasser started the introductions. She gave each woman’s name, and the woman in turn announced her Miss Subway month and year. Many of the women even had their posters in their laps. There were thirteen of them. And they all seemed to be glowing like warm honey in an old-fashioned cut-glass honeypot.

  “It’s wonderful to relive our Miss Subways memories, dear. I haven’t stopped smiling since Charlotte called me,” one of the women sitting up front said to Olivia.

  “We heard you were going to tell our story,” a woman in the back said clearly.

  “Is that true, Olivia?” another woman on the couch asked.

  Olivia turned to Mrs. Glasser. “What have you done?” she asked, shaking her head, a delighted expression on her face.

  “I brought your campaign to life. It took me longer than I thought it would to get in touch with everyone. I hope it’s not too late.”

  Olivia embraced Mrs. Glasser and found tears dropping from her eyes. Two acts of generosity in the same day. And from two people of the same family. Olivia was stunned.

  Even though, at this point, there was no professional reason to do so, Olivia spent the next two hours asking the women all the questions she had about what it was like to be a Miss Subways. Her curiosity was insatiable. Did it change the trajectories of their lives? Did it make them feel differently about themselves? Was it a memory they cherished and embraced or did they feel scorn toward it in any way? And so on.

  The women were only too eager to tell her their thoughts, their stories, their memories. They all had different answers, but the themes were similar.

  Miss Subways, most seemed to say, was a unique punctuation mark in an, up until then, otherwise unremarkable life as a young woman in the Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan. After winning the contest, they came to think of themselves a
s special, some for the very first time in their lives. People treated them differently, if only for a short while, but it was a poignant discovery of self-worth. Many of the women recalled being represented incorrectly—but never unfavorably—in the copy on their posters, but that it was almost like playing a role. It had propelled some to modeling careers.

  What the women all agreed on, looking back on it now, was how sexist the whole thing was. It was a beauty contest dreamed up by and executed by men, with men writing what they thought other men wanted to read on a poster with a photo of a pretty woman. Many resented the fact that of the two or three sentences of their description, one sentence was devoted entirely to whether or not they had a man in their life. But it seemed normal to them then, they explained. It was just the way of the times.

  Many of them recalled that their employers had insisted on getting the approval of their husbands before they could continue their jobs after getting married. And many gave up their careers entirely, choosing instead to do what society expected them to do: keep a house and have a family. Not that they resented that, either, but they didn’t feel as if they had much of a choice.

  And one woman was quite weepy-eyed as she talked about how much opportunity young women today have.

  “Ah, but don’t we owe that to all of you?” Olivia asked. She had been hypnotized by what the women shared. By how honest they were. By how forthcoming they were with memories that seemed so fresh.

  “A lot of it, sure,” Mrs. Glasser said. “But you girls have a bravery we didn’t have. I know that’s because times have changed and the expectations placed upon you are different, but we didn’t see as many outspoken girls in our day.”

  “What’s interesting to me,” Olivia said, “is that people today talk incessantly about work-life balance and making choices and sacrifices and blah, blah, blah, as if it’s something new that women have to deal with. But listening to all of you, I realize that’s just about being a woman. The times may have changed, but the identity crises we all go through don’t. The societal structures may have a new coat of paint, but they’re still the same impenetrable walls and ceilings underneath that modern gloss. And we’re still expected to do much more than any of us is capable of doing.”