The Subway Girls

by Susie Orman Schnall

  Mr. Friedman was neither having a heart attack nor being murdered. But he was hanging up the telephone.

  “Charlotte, I’ve just received quite a surprising phone call from Irv Mann. Is it the truth?” he asked sternly.

  “What did he tell you?” Charlotte’s panicked mind immediately went to Rose and the baby, though she couldn’t imagine how her father’s friend Irv from down the block would know that Rose had asked Charlotte to adopt her baby.

  “Calm down, Teddy,” Charlotte’s mother said. “You’re going to get your blood pressure too high. Come, let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll make some tea. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  “I will stay right here, Sarah,” he said firmly to his wife. “Now, Charlotte, what is this I hear about you being Miss Subways?”

  “What?” Charlotte’s mother asked, a shocked look on her face.

  “Irv tells me that he was on the subway today and he looked up and there was Charlotte on posters all throughout the car.”

  “Is it true, Charlotte?” her mother asked.

  “Yes, but—”

  “But what?” her father asked impatiently.

  “But I was going to tell you and I’m so sorry that I didn’t, but I knew you’d be angry and—” Charlotte stopped and looked from her mother to her father. “Anyway, I did it for you and the store. But it all got messed up,” Charlotte said, enraged.

  She caught her mother giving her father an angry look and nudging her chin toward Charlotte. Her father stayed silent.

  Charlotte took a deep breath and continued, “I just thought if I could use Miss Subways to bring attention to the store, I’d be able to fix everything for you.”

  “And for yourself.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a disgrace,” Mr. Friedman said under his breath, and walked out the front door.

  Charlotte felt the words like a slap across the face. It was moments like these when she missed her brother most.

  “Oh, Charlotte. I’m sorry, honey. That was dreadful of him.” Mrs. Friedman gathered Charlotte up and hugged her.

  “He’s awful,” Charlotte said, sobbing.

  “Come, let’s have some tea.”

  Charlotte followed her mother into the kitchen and collected herself. “I know I shouldn’t have disobeyed you and Papa to do Miss Subways, but I’m twenty-one years old! I’m not a child anymore, and I shouldn’t have to do whatever my mommy and daddy tell me to do!”

  “You’re right. That’s why I called.”

  “Called? What do you mean?”

  “I listened to your father call that Miss Fontaine from the Miss Subways and tell her he forbade you to be considered. I thought that was horrible, so as soon as he left for the store that day, I called her back. I told her to please ignore my husband’s call, that he had changed his mind, that he was embarrassed to call back personally, and to allow you to continue with the competition.”

  “You did that?” Charlotte was stunned.

  “I think she must think your parents are lunatics.” Mrs. Friedman laughed. “But yes, I did that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me so I could go back there? As far as you knew, I wasn’t going to disobey Papa’s decision.”

  “I knew you’d go. At least I hoped it. And when you came back that day saying JoJo had given you a makeover, I knew for sure you had. But why did you think they would let you participate? Were you planning on going in there to plead your case?”

  “You sure you want to hear this?” Charlotte asked, smiling and covering her face with her hands.

  Mrs. Friedman smiled tentatively and nodded.

  “I had JoJo call Miss Fontaine, pretend she was you, and rattle off a similar script to the one you used.”

  “But that would mean Miss Fontaine received two calls from your mother that day.”

  “That’s right,” Charlotte said, confused. “I’ll have to ask JoJo about that.”

  “Well, I’m glad it all worked out. And congratulations on winning. That’s marvelous.”

  “None of it matters, though. I’m still where I was when I started. My plan failed. I had wanted them to mention the store on my poster, but instead they said I like going to art museums with my parents.”

  Mrs. Friedman laughed.

  “Ma, it’s not funny!” Charlotte protested, and managed a giggle herself before turning serious again. “And even if I wanted to stand up to Papa and tell him I wouldn’t be working in his store, it’s not like I have any other job prospects. There isn’t a job in advertising to be had out there.”

  “Oh dear. I can’t believe I forgot!”

  “What?”

  “Two letters came for you today.”

  Charlotte and her mother walked to the hall table together. Charlotte picked up the letters and was surprised by both return addresses. She was about to rip open the more unexpected one when she heard a knock on the door.

  Sam.

  “Hello, Mrs. Friedman. Charlotte, I need to talk to you,” he said, looking distraught. He glanced from Charlotte to her mother.

  “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of my mother.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Sam said, an indecipherable expression on his face.

  “That’s fine. You kids talk,” Mrs. Friedman said kindly, turning to walk away.

  “No, Ma. You can stay right here. Sam, what do you have to say?”

  Sam looked at Charlotte, clearly making a decision that there was no time to waste, and then said urgently, “Charlotte, it’s Rose. She’s had an accident. She called me from the hospital. Will you please go with me? The baby—”

  “You want me to go with you, Sam? Well, I’ll be—” Charlotte was shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Who’s Rose? What baby?” Mrs. Friedman asked.

  “Please, Charlotte. I completely understand why you think this is outrageous and that I have no right to ask you, but I’m begging you. Please come with me. I need you.”

  “Charlotte, go with him,” her mother said angrily.

  “Ma, you don’t understand!” Charlotte said, turning to her mother.

  “What’s there to understand? Sam clearly needs you, so you go.”

  “Fine,” Charlotte said, stomping her foot. “I’ll come with you, Sam, but I don’t like this one bit.”

  “There’s no time, Charlotte. We’ll talk about it once we’re there.” Sam grabbed Charlotte’s hand, said good night to Mrs. Friedman, and then headed with Charlotte to the hospital.

  Rose was sleeping when Charlotte and Sam arrived at her room. The doctor was standing at the door, writing on her chart.

  “How is she?” Sam asked.

  “Are you a family member?” the doctor asked.

  “No. Yes. Well, kind of,” Sam sputtered. He looked at Charlotte and took a deep breath. “I’m the father of the baby.”

  “Oh, so you’re the husband?” the doctor asked.

  “No.”

  “I see,” the doctor said, looking hard at Sam. And then looking at Charlotte.

  “Are you a family member, dear?” the doctor asked Charlotte.

  “No, I’m—”

  “She’s my girlfriend.”

  “Well, this is highly unusual. But since you’re the father of the baby, I can let you know that everything is going to be fine.”

  “Thank goodness,” Sam said, relieved. “What happened?”

  “She told us she fell down the stairs. She has a number of lacerations, but she’ll be okay.”

  “And the baby?” Charlotte was surprised to hear the question come out of her mouth.

  “The baby will be just fine also. I’ve done an examination and everything looks stable. Nothing to worry about. Miss Grant needs to rest, but she’ll be like new before you know it.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Sam said.

  Sam and Charlotte sat on the little couch in Rose’s room.<
br />
  Sam turned to Charlotte and tentatively took her hands in his. She didn’t pull them away. “Thank you for coming with me, Charlotte. I’m sorry I had to ask. But thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Charlotte said, her voice devoid of emotion.

  They sat there for quite some time, neither of them talking, both of them absorbing the situation. Not sure what they were supposed to do or say next.

  Rose stirred and opened her eyes. She looked over and saw Charlotte and Sam.

  “Hi,” she said softly, her voice raspy.

  “Hi,” Sam said, standing.

  Charlotte felt like an intruder.

  “Thank you both for coming,” Rose said.

  “What happened?” Sam asked.

  “It was my mother. She said she was disgusted by the sight of me and pushed me down the stairs in our building,” Rose said. Her eyes were hard. “My little brother saw what happened and called an ambulance. I heard my mother tell the ambulance man that I had gotten dizzy and fallen.”

  “Oh, Rose. That’s awful. I’m so sorry,” Sam said softly. Kindly. “How are you feeling now?”

  “I feel really tired. And sad. They gave me painkillers that they said would make me sleep. But the baby’s okay.”

  Sam smiled at her and squeezed her hand. Charlotte was unconvinced that Rose was entirely happy about the baby being okay. And she was disgusted by the intimacy she was being subjected to, so she stood to walk out of the room, muttering under her breath that she was going to get some coffee. Her actual plan was to get the heck out of there, but she wasn’t interested in starting a conversation about it.

  “Sam, do you mind getting the coffee? I’d like to talk to Charlotte alone,” Rose said.

  “Sure, sure,” Sam said. And then, turning to Charlotte, he said in a whisper, “Is that okay with you, Charlotte?”

  She rolled her eyes but nodded in a resigned manner.

  Sam looked searchingly at Charlotte and walked out of the room.

  “I can’t imagine what’s going through your mind right now,” Rose said sadly.

  “It’s mostly not good, to tell you the truth,” Charlotte said snidely, sitting on the sofa and crossing her legs.

  “I realize that you’re in an unimaginable position, Charlotte. If you choose to go back with Sam, then you’re also choosing to be in this baby’s life, since Sam has agreed to raise it. But if you decide that raising this baby would be impossible, then you have to give up Sam.”

  “What an insightful analysis, Rose,” Charlotte said cynically.

  “It’s nuts that we’ve ended up here,” Rose said. “When I met you, I was so enthralled by you, and now look what I’ve done to you.”

  “You were enthralled by me?” Charlotte asked, shocked. “Why?”

  “You’re everything I’ve always wanted to be. You’re so intelligent and ladylike and kind and polite. You have this marvelous boyfriend who loves you like crazy. You know exactly what you want to do with your life. And it’s pretty obvious, now that I’ve gotten to know you a little, that you’re going to accomplish all that and more.”

  Charlotte was stunned. “When I met you, I thought you were everything I wanted to be. You were so glamorous and outspoken and confident and brave. Those are things I’ve never been.”

  “You don’t want to be anything like me, Charlotte. All of those things are just a mask I put on because I’m so scared,” Rose said, starting to cry. “My whole life, I’ve been so scared. First of my father, who was so violent to my mother and me. Then she started drinking and I was always afraid of her. Afraid of making her upset. Afraid of her blaming me for my father’s violence. I was always walking on eggshells. That’s why I had to put on that bold identity. It protected me. Or else I would have been completely broken.”

  “I had no idea about your father,” Charlotte said softly. The last thing she wanted was to be sympathetic to Rose, but how couldn’t she be?

  “I know I did the worst possible thing I could have done to you, Charlotte. And to think all I really wanted was to be your friend.” Rose shook her head. “I made a mess of everything. I always have. And now look at me.” She waved her hands over her midsection. “The best thing for this baby would be for it to not have me anywhere close.” Rose laughed sadly.

  “I haven’t made a decision yet about Sam or the baby,” Charlotte said, beginning, against her better judgment, to feel a tinge sorry for Rose. She couldn’t imagine what her childhood had been like. Would Charlotte be just another person to reject Rose?

  “I know you’re someone who’s played by the rules all her life. And I don’t mean that as a bad thing. You’re smart and reasonable. But, and forgive me if I’m overstepping, it seems to me that part of your struggle with this decision is that if you say yes to Sam and the baby, you’ll convince yourself that you didn’t do what was right for you. That you will have done what’s right for Sam. And me.” Rose winced. “But that’s not what this would be, Charlotte. Taking this risk, on Sam, on being a mother right now, to someone else’s baby, would be showing yourself what a brave modern woman you are.”

  Charlotte was quiet. She looked at Rose and then out the window. She was annoyed that Rose, who had so terribly disrupted her life, was acting so familiar.

  “No offense, Rose, but I see what you’re doing.”

  “What do you mean?” Rose looked confused.

  “I know you’ve had a bad life, and I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry that your mother has been so horrible to you, but this, this”—Charlotte waved her arms around Rose and the hospital room—“this is all just part of the same routine. You’re saying what you think I want to hear so that you can ease your mind of the guilt, so that you can give your baby to people who you know would do a tremendous job of raising it, so that you can run away to Hollywood and escape your responsibilities.” Charlotte was pacing now, her voice rising.

  “No, Charlotte. That’s not it at all,” Rose said, trying to sit up in her bed, but the pain got the better of her.

  “Why should I believe you?” Charlotte said, getting up close to Rose’s face.

  “Girls, girls, what’s going on?” Sam asked, alarmed, reentering the room with coffee cups.

  “Absolutely nothing,” Charlotte said disgustedly. “I’m going home.”

  Charlotte walked out, fully expecting Sam to stay to console the mother of his baby.

  “Charlotte, wait!” Sam yelled after her.

  “No, Sam.” Charlotte turned.

  A nurse shushed them.

  Charlotte lowered her voice, saying, “You made your choice back in March. Now you have to live with the consequences.”

  She walked quickly down the corridor. Sam caught up with her and they took the elevator down in silence.

  “Stop following me!” Charlotte cried to Sam as he walked next to her down the street back toward her house.

  “No. I’m never going to stop following you, Charlotte,” Sam said, stopping and holding her gently by the shoulders.

  Charlotte stopped and turned to him. “She’s awful.”

  “I know she’s awful. This whole thing is awful. But this is where we are.”

  “So you think I’m just supposed to capitulate and enter enemy territory, willing to do your and Rose’s bidding?”

  “I only want you to do this if it’s what you want.”

  “How would I not think of Rose every single time I look at that baby? How could I possibly raise that baby as my own?”

  “It would be a one-day-at-a-time deal. And each day, I imagine your hatred for Rose would disappear a little and the love for the baby would replace it until you loved that baby so much, you wouldn’t even identify him or her with Rose.”

  “Do you honestly think that’s even possible, Sam?” Charlotte asked skeptically.

  “I think I do.”

  They started to walk again, slowly and silently down the street.

  “Let me ask you this, Charlotte. If there were no baby, wou
ld you consider getting back together with me?”

  Charlotte didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” She was a bit surprised by her answer, but it had been something she had been thinking about ever since she had spoken to JoJo. She knew Sam. She loved Sam. She was sick about what had happened but thought that she could get over it. She gave herself a million excuses to justify what he had done: They weren’t married yet. Sam was a man and men had other needs. He had been drinking. He had never in the past done anything to jeopardize their relationship. Charlotte hated that she was sticking up for him, when deep down she didn’t think any of those excuses were valid enough for hurting her as much as he had, but she also didn’t want to let Rose be the critical factor defining her relationship. She didn’t want to give Rose—sad, pathetic Rose—that power.

  Sam turned to her. “Charlotte, I’m so happy to hear you say that,” he said, his voice cracking. “Losing you, losing us, can’t be an option. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met. You’re so different from other girls, Charlotte. You’re so ambitious, and I love that about you.”

  “What would it all look like, Sam? Play this out for me.”

  “I’ve thought about this a lot. If you decide to raise this baby with me, we’ll get engaged as soon as possible. The right way. We’ll tell our parents and figure out who’s going to watch the baby while we’re at work. I would never expect you to not pursue your career, and I need to know that you know that.”

  “I know that,” Charlotte said, allowing a small part of her to play along with the scenario Sam was laying out.

  “You wouldn’t have to have anything to do with Rose during her pregnancy or the delivery. I would never leave that to you. There’s a lawyer in my office who handles adoptions. I’ve already spoken to him and he said it would be watertight. You and I would be the parents, and we could design it so that Rose would have as much or as little—”

  “Or as nothing.”

  “Or as nothing to do with the baby as we want. I’ve discussed that with her, and she is fully prepared to have nothing to do with the baby. She feels that the baby is better off without her being involved. When the baby is born, he or she would immediately be ours. We would have a separate room in the hospital from Rose, and we would take care of the baby there until he or she is ready to go home. Then Rose would go on her way and we would go on ours. To our new apartment with a perfect nursery to raise our child. I will never think of Rose as the baby’s mother, Charlotte. You will be the mother. It will always be our baby.”