There’s a wide-angle shot of the set and you can see Katherine start to say something else, but again, she’s cut off by Lester.
“And there you have it folks. Work-life balance, having it all, topics still up for discussion by American women. An issue that will be around for a long time. I’d like to thank my guests Katherine Whitney and Dr. Elaine Ireland. And we’ll be back after these messages with more on Today.”
Cut.
A couple seconds later, Katherine storms into the dressing room looking like an insane-asylum escapee. She slams the door behind her. “That was a fucking ambush. What the hell was that, Brooke?”
“I don’t know, Katherine. But you held your own. You were fine,” Brooke says, putting her arm around Katherine reassuringly.
“Theo, what did you think?” Katherine asks, wriggling out of Brooke’s embrace.
“Well, I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t think it was great. I think they had an agenda, and they clearly accomplished what they set out to do.”
Katherine lets out a deep sigh and says, “Damn it! I felt so good, so confident, but then I totally lost my cool and I could barely string two sentences together. I tried a couple times to say something, but Lester kept cutting me off. That was a disaster!”
“Well, that didn’t go entirely as we planned but we have to put that behind us and move on. We have to focus on tonight. Let’s go back to your apartment, and we’ll work on your speech.” Brooke says.
“I think that sounds like a good plan, Kath,” Theo says walking up to her and putting his hands squarely on her shoulders. “What’s done is done. You have the opportunity tonight to say what’s on your mind without any interruption or challenge. You will shine tonight, so let’s focus on that.”
Katherine shakes herself off and agrees to the plan. I ask Brooke if they need me this afternoon but she says no and that they’ll be fine. She says they’ll catch up with me tonight and to have a good day.
I tell her I’ll try.
I decide to walk from Rockefeller Center, where Today is taped, back to my apartment through Central Park. But first I text Nick to see if he wants to meet me for a coffee. I’m pretty sure he won’t text me back but it’s worth a try. I’m not giving up on him and I want him to know that. The acute pain of his silence has lessened as each day has passed, but the dull pain lingers. I thought by now he would have at least asked to get together to talk.
Lucy: Good morning. I really miss you and want to talk. I’m in Midtown. Want to meet for a coffee?
Nothing. I told him I missed him and he didn’t even respond. I stand there for a few minutes, checking my phone. Sad. Sad and waiting. I can’t believe this is where I am right now in my life. I just can’t believe it. I feel like a four-year-old who didn’t manage to get any candy from the piñata. A six-year-old whose first dog has died. A twelve-year-old who didn’t get invited to the slumber party. All at the same time.
I decide to go into Dean & DeLuca, which is across from the Today studio, to grab a coffee and something comforting from the café. As if the breakfast I ate less than an hour ago wasn’t enough. I’ll stop my wallowing and self-pity for a second to tell you that if you’ve never been to Dean & DeLuca, you are missing out. It is a culinary heaven, a gourmet-food lover’s mecca. There’s not a Dean & DeLuca on the Upper West Side or near my office so whenever I’m near one, I don’t miss the opportunity to enjoy its gastronomic loveliness. They have a mail-order business, too. Go ahead, order a gift basket. I’ll wait.
Before I get my coffee, I roam the aisles looking at the amazingly colorful produce, prepared foods, and land of cheese, hoping the sight of them will make me feel better, make me realize that though everything in my life sucks, there is still true goodness in the world. At least in the form of an unpasteurized fromage à raclette from the French Alps. Or so I’m told by the cute cheese guy who’s wearing a striped apron and white cheese-guy hat. I indulge in an olive oil tasting and admire the bakery display cases that hold all sorts of sugary and buttery treats. I buy a large latte and a chocolate-chip scone and maneuver my way through the throngs of tourists milling around Rockefeller Center. It’s a beautiful day and though the walk to my apartment will be long, it will give me time to think. And the exercise won’t hurt either.
As I stroll up Fifth Avenue, staying close to the curb to avoid the packs of teen tourists who walk four across, arms interlocked, I start thinking about the state of my life and how I got to where I am now. My life was fantastic until a few months ago. I was cruising along with a great job and an even-greater boyfriend. Family dinners on Sunday night. A run now and then. Attempts to eat healthy. Dinners once a week with my best friend. Honestly, if my life had stayed that way forever I wouldn’t have complained. So what’s happened over the last few weeks is inconceivable to me.
Things are beyond crazy at work. Katherine sabotaged my chances at a job in digital media. I have no time for my best friend and my family. My exercise routine is fairly nonexistent unless walking up Fifth Avenue while eating a chocolate-chip scone qualifies as exercise. I completely sold my soul and, in a state of weakness, betrayed my boss and revealed her secrets to a newspaper. And the worst part of it all is that Nick wants nothing to do with me, and I may have screwed things up with us forever.
I’ve made it to Central Park, and I stop and try to enjoy the small street performances along the way: musicians, caricaturists, street dancers, rollerbladers. The air is still a bit crisp but the sun is shining so the park is filling up with strolling families, runners, and bikers. And all manner of Manhattanites on their brisk way to something very important.
Central Park has always been one of my favorite places in the world. When I was little, when things were still good between my parents, we used to come here as a family once a year. We’d rent a couple of rowboats—the four kids in one, my parents in another. My brothers and I would try to splash my parents with the oars, but my dad would row so fast we couldn’t catch them. We’d explore the lake for an entire hour. “We need to get our money’s worth,” my dad would say. Then we’d head to the Sheep Meadow, lay down a blanket, and devour the massive picnic lunch my mom had packed. After lunch we’d play Frisbee and simply enjoy being a family. And when it was time to go, my parents would always buy us Good Humor ice-cream bars from one of the trucks parked on Central Park West. I think about all that now as I head through the meadow.
Nick, his proposal, and what will happen next have been on my mind constantly. And I’ve been thinking about marriage a lot, too: how I feel about it, why I’m so afraid of it, and all the things my brothers and sisters-in-law were telling me the other night at my mom’s. I’m realizing that it’s not marriage that I’m afraid of. It’s a bad marriage that I’m afraid of. And I’m afraid of divorce and abuse and ending up like my mother. But why am I assuming that being married to Nick will be bad? There are zero indications that it would be.
I think of one of my favorite quotes: Don’t be afraid to fail. Be afraid not to try. Maybe Nick and Ava and my family have a point. And maybe I’ve been so consumed with what happened to my parents that I haven’t been able to see my personal situation independently from that. I’m not sure what took me so long but I’m beginning to see marriage to Nick a little more clearly. A little more optimistically. Whenever I would think of marriage, I would picture this dark-grey, stormy sky, the kind in a movie that’s always accompanied by eerie music and a plot twist. But now, as I sort out my feelings, analyze them instead of letting them consume me, I see the clouds lighten up and begin to clear.
I feel a tingle in my body as I let go of a little of the fear I’ve been holding on to. I’m not running to Crate & Barrel to register, but I am allowing myself to feel more comfortable with the idea that marrying Nick might actually be exquisite.
The third thing on the list was for me to decide whether I want to have kids. I’m not sure why he phrased it like that, because I’ve never been uncertain about having kids and he knows that.
I definitely want to be a mother. It’s what kind of mother I want to be, can be, that I’m conflicted about. I’d always pictured myself leaning in, having a full-time career with a paycheck that reflected my hard work and with responsibilities that challenged me and lit me up.
Observing Katherine, however, especially over the past couple of weeks, has taught me so much. Has opened my eyes to aspects of being a working mom that I’d never thought about because I’d never had to before. Being a full-time working mom with a nanny sounds good on paper but, depending on the job, depending on the kids, depending on the mom herself, it’s clearly not that simple. I took what that Elaine Ireland said on Today this morning to heart. And after witnessing Katherine’s messed-up life, and after listening to my mom’s neighbor Grace and my sister-in-law Kelly, I’m realizing that you can’t entirely have it all.
If I do lean in fully, I will have to make sacrifices in other places. And even though Nick says he’s willing to be flexible with me about my career when we have children (assuming he still wants to have children with me), I’m not so sure I believe that. Because if I do concentrate so fully on my career, I will not be able to be the kind of wife and mother he wants me to be. And, to be fully honest with myself, the kind of wife and mother I realize I want to be. I’m not saying I want to give up my career and prepare a dry martini with two olives for Nick when he gets home from work every day, but I think I am saying, yes indeed, I am saying that I don’t want a career like Katherine’s. Not if it means the rest of my life will suffer so much. Will be so out of balance.
I make my way through the park and back to my apartment feeling a little lighter. I feel like I’ve made a decision that is going to change my life. I’ve seen a lot of sides of this balance equation and I know which side I want to be on. Hopefully, Nick will give me the opportunity to share that choice with him.
Chapter Sixteen
Later that afternoon, after I’ve done a few loads of laundry and spoken to Ava on the phone about what I thought about during my walk, I text Katherine.
Lucy: Hey. Hope the speech prep is going well. Thanks for offering to lend me a dress but I have something to wear. What time do you need me to meet you at the Waldorf?
Katherine: Thanks. It’s going pretty well. Brooke has been making me rehearse all day. She finally left so I have a couple hours to rest and play with the girls. I’ll have Pancho pick you up first at 6:30, then he’ll swing by for Theo and me, and we’ll head crosstown together.
Lucy: Okay, sounds good. Thanks for the ride. See you later.
I take my time getting ready. I blow my hair straight, add a few curls at the ends with a curling iron, and use the makeup Ava got me for Christmas. I have a lot of bridesmaid dresses, from all my brothers’ weddings and a couple friends’ weddings, but they all, even the short ones, seem too froufrou. I go with my old standby little black dress that I got at Bloomingdale’s a couple Decembers ago. It’s thick satin (although, it might be polyester) with a fitted sleeveless bodice and a flared skirt. It hits a bit above my knees, and there’s a jeweled clasp at the back of the neck. I feel pretty in it, and even a little sexy. I put on my reliable black Steve Madden pumps and check myself in the mirror. Not bad. I stick my phone/money/keys into my black evening bag and grab my long black wool coat. I hang it over my arm because even though it’s cold outside, I’m really hot from getting ready.
I head downstairs at six thirty and find Pancho waiting in the car, double-parked in front of my building. He takes one look at me and gives an approving head nod/smile combo. The cold hits me so I quickly head for the car.
“Looking good, Lucy.”
“Why, thank you, Pancho,” I say pleased, as I get into the backseat.
We arrive at Katherine’s a few minutes later, and Pancho calls upstairs on his cell.
“I’m outside,” he says into the phone, which is on Bluetooth so I can hear the conversation.
“Uh, okay. Uh, we’re having a little delay here, Pancho. We’ll be down in a few minutes,” Katherine says.
“All right. No problem. I may have to circle so call me when you’re on your way down.”
At that moment, a car comes up behind Pancho and honks. There’s only one idling spot in front of Katherine’s apartment building. Pancho suggests I get out and wait in the lobby, that I’d be more comfortable that way. So I do.
I grab my bag and head out of the car, realizing as I shut the door and the cold hits me that I’ve forgotten my coat. I turn around but Pancho has already driven off. I run into the building. Cute Doorman takes one look at me and smiles.
“Looking good,” he says.
“Why, thank you,” I say for the second time in the span of ten minutes, delighted with the prevailing opinion.
I sit on one of the leather lobby couches for a few minutes, making happy small talk with Cute Doorman as I wait for Katherine and Theo to come down.
Eventually, I see Pancho pull up outside at the same time as Katherine emerges from the elevator. Sans Theo.
“Hi, don’t you look pretty,” she says quickly, giving me a tight smile.
“Hi. Thanks. Wow, you look beautiful,” I say and she does.
“Thanks. Ready?”
“Where’s Theo?”
“Oh, he’s not feeling great. He’s gonna stay home with the girls.”
I realize at that moment that I need to tell Katherine about Theo, but I decide to wait until next week when things aren’t so charged.
Katherine heads to the apartment building door and holds it open for me. Just then I hear my phone ring so I pull it out of my bag. It’s Ty Collins, Nick’s client, our friend. I slide the bar to answer.
“Hey, Ty,” I say, walking outside.
“Lucy?” the voice on the other end says with an urgent tone.
“C’mon, Lucy, we’ve got to go,” Katherine says, looking annoyed. I hurry up and walk toward the car.
“Ty. Hey. It’s Lucy. What’s up?”
“Lucy, Nick’s had an accident.”
“What? Oh my God. What happened?” I stop where I am on the sidewalk. I don’t even feel the cold. Katherine is already in the car and calling for me to get in.
“I’m not entirely sure, but I just got a call on my phone from the ambulance guy. Something about Nick running—”
“Ambulance? He’s not supposed to run! His heart!” I say in a panicked voice.
“Lucy, come on!” Katherine says.
I get into the car. Pancho steps on the gas.
“I know, Lucy. Just relax and listen to me,” Ty says, all business now. He speaks clearly and slowly. “I guess Nick was unconscious so the ambulance guy dialed the last number that Nick had called on his phone and that was me. But I’m in Charlotte for a game. They’re taking him to the NYU Hospital emergency room, which they said is on First Avenue at Thirty-Third Street. Lucy, can you go there now?”
“Oh my God, Ty. Yes, I will go there now,” I say.
“What happened?” I hear Katherine ask. I ignore her.
“I told the ambulance guy to put you on the list so you can see Nick when you get to the hospital. Call me when you have any information,” Ty says.
“I will, bye,” I say, hanging up the phone. “Oh my God. I have to get out of the car,” I say leaning toward the front seat. “Pancho, stop the car.”
He swerves and pulls over to the side of the busy street.
“Lucy, what is it?” Katherine asks, looking concerned.
“Nick’s in the emergency room. He’s unconscious. He was running but he’s not supposed to run because he has a heart condition,” I say quickly. “I have to get to the hospital. Oh no, I forgot where Ty said the hospital is.”
“Pancho, keep driving,” Katherine says.
“No, Pancho! Stop the car! I need to get to the hospital,” I say, the panic rising in my voice again.
“Yes, I know. Pancho will drive you there. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” Katherine says as she puts my coat over my s
houlders and grabs my hand. “Did they say which hospital Nick’s at?”
“The NYU emergency room,” I say, looking expectantly at Katherine.
“Thirty-Third and First, Pancho,” Katherine says. “I had my girls there,” she says to me calmly.
“But you’ll be late to your dinner,” I say to Katherine.
“It’s okay, Lucy. We’ll drop you at the hospital and then I’ll go to the Waldorf. I won’t be too late, if traffic cooperates, and even if it doesn’t, this is more important,” she says as she strokes my hand and tells me everything is going to be okay.
Pancho does his best to get me to the hospital as quickly as possible, and my mind starts racing as I stare out the window watching the lights of the city flash by. I think I mentioned earlier that Nick was diagnosed at his precollege physical with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a genetic heart condition. It means the walls of the heart are thicker than they should be. It’s pretty common and usually something that people live with just fine. There are just restrictions. Nick is allowed to work out moderately; he can lift weights and do light cardio. But he’s not allowed to do intense workouts like running or playing a full-out game of basketball. He’s always been good about following those rules, so I’m totally confused about what happened.
Eventually, after what seems like forever but is only the reality of going crosstown in New York City traffic on a Saturday night, we pull up to the emergency room entrance. I say a quick good-bye and thanks to Katherine and Pancho and quickly walk inside. I have to wait at the desk for a few minutes because there are people ahead of me. I shift my weight from heel to heel impatiently. Nervously.
“I’m here to see Nicholas Heston,” I say with urgency to the woman at the desk, when it’s finally my turn.
The Balance Project Page 18
