The Balance Project

by Susie Orman Schnall

We both turn toward the dining room where Jacki and Nathaniel are putting the finishing touches on Katherine. She looks stunning. And pissed.

  “Why aren’t you dressed?” Katherine asks in a frustrated voice. Enraged might be a better word.

  “Me?” Theo asks.

  “Yes, you. They want to start with the family shots. You need to be in a suit. They said they want you in a suit.”

  Theo looks deflated but has clearly made a conscious decision to go along with the plan. He picks his smoothie up off the counter and sulks back toward his bedroom.

  I take that as a hint that the girls need to be dressed, too, so I head into the TV room.

  “Time to get your pretty dresses on, girls,” I say in my happiest, Disney-princess voice.

  “No!” They shout.

  “It’s almost the Olaf part,” Abby whines.

  “Well, let’s get dressed and then we can watch the Olaf part. If you get dressed really fast, I’ll get you guys some ice cream later.”

  “Ice cream!” Again in unison, and they scramble off down the hall. Bribery can be very effective with children.

  I brush their teeth (princess toothbrushes), scrub their pink cheeks (princess towels), and do their fair hair (princess brushes). Then I let them each pick out a favorite dress, white tights, and party shoes, and present them to their mother.

  “No. Play clothes,” Katherine snaps.

  “You told Theo a suit.”

  “Yes, but they want the girls more natural. In play clothes.”

  Jordan cries. She likes the dress she’s wearing. Abby helps me find their play clothes. I promise toppings on the ice cream, get them changed, and then set them back in front of Frozen to wait for the photographers.

  You may be wondering why I’m being so polite to Katherine. Why I’m not calling her on her rude behavior. You may think I’m letting her walk all over me. I can absolutely understand why you’d feel that way. But put yourself in my position. This is my boss. I’m being respectful. She’s behaving uncharacteristically so I’m trying to accept it as the aberration it is. Mostly, I’m staying quiet and busting my ass to do what she asks because I don’t want to make things worse by feeding into the high level of tension that is so palpable in the apartment. But inside I’m stewing, and I’m nearing my edge.

  “Lucy?” I hear Katherine call frantically.

  “Yep,” I say finding her in the dining room.

  “Call Brooke and tell her that the clothes they sent are all too big. There’s nothing I can wear here. And I don’t know what to do because the photographers want to start.”

  The doorbell rings. Katherine stares at me (what’s up with all the staring today?) so I answer the door.

  “Hi. Is this Katherine Whitney’s apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Logan Barnes. I’m the journalist doing the interview. And this is my assistant Daniel Mahoney.”

  “Oh, hi. I’m Lucy Cooper, Katherine’s assistant. Come on in.”

  I bring Logan and Daniel over to Katherine, and they start talking.

  Brooke eventually calls me back and says they’ve had to scrap the whole Chloé plan and that Katherine is going to have to wear her own clothes.

  I sidle up to Katherine and whisper that in her ear so Logan and Daniel don’t hear. She takes me aside and totally freaks out, throwing an absolute hissy fit that she has to wear her own clothes. Oh, the horror.

  I stand there and stare at her. Now I’m the one staring. In shock. Logan and Daniel shift uncomfortably in their seats. Though I don’t think they can hear what Katherine is saying, they can clearly sense the drama. I’ve never seen Katherine lose it like that. And the first time she does it’s about clothes? Give me a break. Clearly there’s got to be something else going on here because Katherine’s wardrobe is ridiculous. A stylist from Barneys comes to the office four times a year with multiple racks filled with exquisite designer clothes. Katherine selects the pieces she wants, and they magically appear in the correct sizes in her closet. She waltzes into the office every day looking like she just stepped out of a magazine spread. And not a Green Goddess Magazine spread. More like a Vogue magazine spread. So to hear her freak out about wearing her own clothes?

  Jacki hears the commotion and comes over to where we are.

  “Don’t worry, Katherine. We’ll find you something to wear,” Jacki says calmly as she holds Katherine by the elbow and whisks her toward the master suite. And that closet.

  “Is she always like that?” Daniel asks me quietly, snidely, as Logan gives him a not-now look. Daniel rolls his eyes and turns back to his notebook.

  The day carried on like a dysfunctional family trying to convince their party guests that everything is normal. Like something out of a Wes Anderson movie. After the Wardrobe Incident, Katherine emerged from her bedroom a different person—a calm one—and proceeded to do the photo shoot and concurrent interview in a decidedly more Katherine-esque manner.

  But every now and then, she’d come over to me, stress palpable, fake smile plastered, with some sort of request. Why isn’t lunch here yet? Did you put Frozen on again for the girls? That guy has his shoes on. I spilled some juice on my blouse; can you find the stain remover? Call Nathaniel and have him come back ASAP because they want to do some pictures with my hair in a different style.

  And with every request, Katherine got ruder and ruder. And quieter and quieter so no one heard her but me. So she could maintain the charade of America’s Darling of Balance. By the middle of the day, she practically lost it every time she came to me, and I felt like she was headed for a complete breakdown. At one point, I went into Katherine’s powder room, turned the faucet on full blast, and said “motherfucker” over and over again. I may have also made obscene gestures directed at Katherine through the door.

  I’m taking a breather and downing a sandwich in the kitchen when Theo walks in. He’s back in his sweatpants and T-shirt.

  “How you holding up, slugger?”

  “Okay,” I say. I try to sound like I mean it. I don’t need to invite Theo into my little world of hell.

  “Interview seems to be going well,” he says taking a sandwich from the platter and putting mustard on the bread.

  “Yeah,” I say. He hasn’t been privy to Katherine’s side (snide) conversations with me. He only sees her sitting unruffled and beautiful, bathed in light from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park, with doting journalists and photographers circling her like planets around a dazzling sun.

  “I’ll admit, she’s certainly good at pulling off this whole thing,” Theo says, sitting down on a kitchen stool and taking a bite of his sandwich.

  “What do you mean?” I ask him, picking chocolate chips out of the brownies on the dessert platter and popping them into my mouth.

  “I mean, between you and me, I think I’m starting to see cracks in our old girl. But you’d never know it looking at her holding court out there with those People people.”

  “Cracks? Really?” I’m astonished. Katherine has always had her shit together. Well, before today at least, but I had started chalking that up to lack of sleep from staying up with Jordan all night.

  As if he read my mind. “I know she’s always seemed to have it all together, but that’s because I think the workload was perfectly manageable and in her wheelhouse, the girls were young enough, and our help situation was great. Now, with the book and London happening at the same time, it’s a little more than she bargained for. The girls seem to need her more. At least they ask for her more. And our nanny, who seems to be getting sick a lot, isn’t entirely working out so well. Katherine works late so many nights that we’re not seeing her as often as we’d all like. Yes, indeed, I believe there are perceptible cracks.”

  I take a bite of a white-chocolate macadamia-nut cookie and think about what he said.

  “I don’t know, Theo. I think she’s gonna pull it off. Not only this interview but all of it. If there’s ever been a woman in control,
it’s Katherine.”

  “Yes, she’s in control all right. But this balance thing is harder than it seems. And from where I stand, she’s not doing it all as effortlessly as you might think.”

  “But she’s doing it,” I say. “Isn’t that all that matters.”

  “You could argue that,” the professor says. “Anyway, enough of that. She’ll be fine.” He finishes his sandwich and throws the paper plate in the trash.

  “Are the girls still watching Frozen?” he asks.

  “Third time.”

  “I’m gonna take them into the park for a while. I have my cell if Katherine needs us back for anything.”

  “Got it,” I say as I replenish the platters with the reserves from the refrigerator.

  Later in the afternoon, as the photographers start to pack up, I realize I’ll have plenty of time to walk back to my apartment, shower, and change before I have to meet Nick at eight at Union Square Cafe. I might even have time to pop into a boutique on Broadway and buy something special to wear tonight. This day has been completely draining, and I can’t wait to get the hell out of Katherine’s apartment.

  I’m sitting in the TV room watching Frozen while Abby and Jordan both sleep draped across me. Anna has just frozen solid.

  “Noooo. Wake them up!” Katherine says loudly, angrily, startling the girls who sit up groggily. “If they sleep now, they’ll never sleep tonight.”

  “Sorry,” I say, which is way tamer than what I almost said in response to her little freak-out. I’m practically numb at this point from all of Katherine’s assaults today. But I have no energy to get into it with her right now. So not worth it. “Are they done out there?” I ask.

  “Yeah, just about.”

  “Great, because I don’t want to be late for a very important date.”

  “Oh, Lucy, do you mind staying a little while more? Theo wants to take me out for dinner for our anniversary and the nanny, as you know, is sick. I sent her to her sister’s apartment this morning, so we don’t have anyone to watch the girls.”

  “Sorry, Katherine, but I’m going out with Nick tonight,” I say. I will not allow this to happen again. I’m going to stand my ground. Who the hell does she think she is that she can inconvenience me whenever the urge strikes? I am way too tired and way too emotional from everything that’s gone on today and in the last few days to deal with this shit any longer. I need to go home, get myself together, and be completely present for Nick tonight. This might be my last chance. Sorry, lady. You’re going to have to order in.

  “That’s fine, we’ll be home early,” Katherine says. We’re going out now so we should be home by seven thirty at the latest.”

  “I really can’t, Katherine. I have to go home and change. I can’t go out like this,” I say, gesturing to my outfit.

  “You can shower here, Lucy. Really, it’s no problem. And you can wear anything from my closet. Abby would love to put makeup on you!”

  “Please, Lucy? It’s our anniversary,” Theo says sweetly. Well, if Theo’s asking. I have a hard time saying no to Theo.

  “Yay, Lucy is our nanny. Yay, Lucy!” Jordan says sweetly.

  “Are you sure you’ll be home by seven thirty? I have to be down in Union Square no later than eight.”

  “That won’t be a problem at all. We’re just going local.”

  “Okay, but I absolutely have to be out of here no later than seven thirty.”

  I realize that it’s not a big deal. They’ll be home in plenty of time for me to meet Nick, and I’ll get a nice outfit for the night out of this deal. Plus I want to find out what happens at the end of Frozen.

  After the girls have braided my hair and adorned it with all their hair bows, Abby asks me if I have a boyfriend. I say I do, and she asks to talk to him. I let her FaceTime Nick and the two of them carry on quite an adorable conversation. Nick saw Frozen with his nieces so he’s well versed in the saga of Anna, Elsa, and Olaf. I bring my phone to the corner of the room to talk to Nick briefly about our plans for the night. Abby teases me that we’re kissing, and after I hang up with Nick, I tickle her senseless.

  I bathe and feed the girls and get them dressed for bed (princess PJs). Then it’s time to gussy up.

  What woman in her right mind would turn down the opportunity to get ready in Katherine Whitney’s luxurious master bath, replete with ginormous shower and loads of yummy-smelling, all-natural shower gels. This is my Pretty Woman, Julia Roberts–in-the-hotel-suite moment. Without the bubble bath. Or the charming rendition of Prince’s “Kiss.” (“I just want your extra time and your mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah kiss.”) I plop the girls, and an armload of dolls, on the bathroom floor so I can keep an eye on them while I shower.

  I relax for the first time today as the hot water pounds on my shoulders. I let my mind go to Nick and what’s going on. I’m nervous about our dinner tonight, but I think we’re going to be able to move in the right direction. After the shower, I wrap myself in a towel and then the girls take turns holding the blow-dryer up to my hair until the very last part when I smooth it with a brush. My long, brown hair is shiny and straight, and I’ve given it a little curl at the ends.

  The girls lead me by the hands into Katherine’s closet. I’ve never actually seen it in person. I’ve only imagined what it would look like. My imagination was nothing compared to the reality. It’s like Lisa Vanderpump’s closet but less pink. You may think it’s weird that I seem so comfortable borrowing Katherine’s clothes. I do, a little bit, for sure. But Katherine is cool like that, and I know she doesn’t mind. Plus, despite my previously explained lack of sartorial savoir faire, I still know a good wardrobe when I see it.

  As the girls pull things off the hangers—“Try this one on. No, try this one on!”—and I follow them hanging everything back up, I finally settle for a simple, but very sexy, black leather Derek Lam dress. Katherine and I have the same size foot, so I scan her black-high-heel section and decide on a pair of four-inch black suede and metallic leather Jimmy Choos. I stand in front of Katherine’s three-way mirror and almost can’t believe my eyes. I’m hoping Nick won’t believe his.

  I’ve never really been into makeup. I usually just wear lip balm to work. Sometimes lip gloss and mascara. Abby proudly shows me where Katherine keeps her makeup, and I decide to have a little fun with it. Her drawer is neat but overflowing, mostly Bobbi Brown, but with some Chanel and Laura Mercier thrown in. I am careful to use cotton balls and Q-tips instead of Katherine’s brushes, but I have no choice with the eyeliner and mascara so I leave them out to remember to clean them afterwards. Abby is quite proficient, for a five-year-old, in the art of makeup application, I learn, as I let her apply my blush and lip gloss.

  It’s seven o’clock by the time we’re done. Bedtime for the girls.

  Abby and I put Jordan in her room first. We read her A Bad Case of Stripes, and she goes right to sleep (princess sheets).

  “What about the ice cream you promised, Lucy?” Abby asks as I sit on the edge of her bed (princess sheets) a couple minutes later.

  “Oh, yeah, the ice cream! I forgot,” I say, giving her a kiss on the forehead and tucking her in. “I will make it up to you. I promise. I will make a plan with your mommy very soon for me to come here and take you and Jordan out for ice cream.”

  I read Abby Olivia, and when we’re done, she smiles, turns her face to the side, and happily goes to sleep.

  I return to the TV room and put Frozen on again from the beginning. I’m starting to see what all the fuss is about.

  I think you know what happens next.

  Chapter Seven

  Despite being utterly absorbed in Frozen, I am aware of the time and the time is now seven-twenty. No word from Katherine. I wait another ten minutes and then I text her.

  Lucy: Timing still good? I need to start heading downtown soon.

  I watch. And I wait. No answer from Katherine. Panic starts to manifest in my body. I can not be late for this dinner. So five minutes later, I send an
other text.

  Lucy: Katherine, I really need to go. Are you guys on your way back home?

  By nine fifteen, I have texted and called Katherine four more times. I even called Theo’s cell phone but I heard it ring in the apartment, so I knew he didn’t have his phone with him. Just before eight, I texted Nick to tell him I wasn’t going to make it in time but that I’d be there soon. He was understanding and wrote me back that it was no problem and that he’d wait for me at the bar. I have texted him several times since with status updates, delicately explaining what was going on. His first couple texts back were none too happy. And then he stopped texting back altogether.

  I have paced the apartment. I have watched Frozen. I have watched NCIS. I have taken deep breaths, which are so fucking overrated. None of those things worked at calming me down. I have also tried not to cry. And not to absolutely lose it and deface expensive artwork on Katherine’s walls. I’m furious. And I’m devastated that I haven’t heard from Nick. I don’t think I’ll be able to “Well, Katherine . . .” my way out of this one. Not this time.

  At nine forty-five, Katherine and Theo stroll in the door. Theo has his arm around Katherine’s shoulders and they’re singing a duet of some corny old-timey love song. Katherine takes one look at me and her jaw drops.

  “Wowza. You look gorgeous, Lucy!”

  “Didn’t you get my texts?” I ask, trying to remain calm, as I start to gather my things, trying to rush out of there.

  “No,” she says as she searches in her bag for her phone. “Come to think of it, I didn’t hear my phone all night.”

  “That’s ’cause I turned it off,” Theo says proudly.

  “Well, I’m really late so I have to go.” I stare at them both and shake my head in disgust.

  “Oh, right, you have a date with Nick. Sorry we’re late. Dinner took longer than usual, people kept coming up to our table, and then we must have lost track of time. He’ll understand, right? It’s not like you have any kids who are gonna wake you up at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning,” she gives Theo a knowing look. “So you two can stay out as late as you want.”