Carmela snorted. Meredith gave her a look that said, “What’s your problem?”
Carmela was initially taken aback, then menacing. “Don’t give me that look, Missy,” she snapped. “I’m not the enemy here.”
Then who is? Meredith wondered. Doug certainly wasn’t. And Lou. What could Lou do to her?
The door opened again and Corky bustled in. “Sorry I’m late.” She had a Tupperware container with some sort of leftover casserole in it. “I haven’t eaten yet,” she explained. “I’m hypoglycemic,” she added.
Like anyone cares, Meredith thought.
Everyone sat poised around the room, waiting for the ax to drop. Doug it seemed, was the selected executioner.
“Meredith. There’s a conflict of interest here. You’re dating someone on the study you got done on time, while Corky’s study is still unfinished.”
“Ben Abel isn’t on any studies I’ve done.”
Carmela spoke. “He’s on mine. He’s second author.”
“He is?”
“Like you didn’t know,” Corky snapped.
“Corky, let’s keep this professional,” Doug intervened.
“I didn’t know.” Meredith replied. She couldn’t think what to say.
Lou decided to step in. “Look. This hasn’t been working out for awhile. You’re not even off probation and already you’ve been in my office multiple times. I think it’s better to nip this in the bud while we can. Doug?”
All eyes turned to Doug. He never took his eyes off Meredith. “I’d like to be left alone with Meredith, please.” No one moved. “Now, please.” His voice was very quiet. Everyone rose and filed out. The last one shut the door.
Meredith felt like a twenty-foot tidal wave was rolling silently at her. She had the sides of her chair in a white knuckle grip.
“You’re the hardest worker I’ve ever had. You’re bright. You’ve just gotten yourself entangled in a personality war with the wrong person up here. I couldn’t untangle it. I’m sorry. Honest to God, I’m sorry.”
Meredith’s eyes were still not understanding, so Doug forced himself to be explicit. “They’re letting you go, Meredith. You’ve got the option of staying on for two weeks or leaving today.” He looked about to offer sympathy, then saw from her face that she’d be better off without it. “You’ve got a great reference from me. The best I’ve ever written. You know that. It’s killing me to lose you. But mostly, I’m sorry to have let you down. You trusted me and I failed you. I thought I would win this battle. I couldn’t. Corky’s out for blood. And she’s not going to stop till you’re gone.”
A crazy deodorant jingle was going through Meredith's head. “Pressure’s on, getting hot, difference is...YOU’RE NOT!” She stood. “Thank you, Doug.” She extended her hand and they shook. Her armpits were soaked and she smiled at the inaccuracy of her subconciousness in choosing jingles as she walked out of Lou’s office.
Lou, Carmela, and Corky were huddled outside and as they raised their heads they were thrown off by her smile. She used the opportunity to glide by them and get to her office.
Her stuff was packed while she was still numb from the shock of it. She sat down at her computer and trashed every file she’d ever made for Corky. She trashed all her personal files too. She didn’t have the energy to save them to disk.
Kira was typing away when Meredith appeared at her doorway with her coat on, a large box under her arm.
“Where are you going?”
Kira was remarkably isolated from the gossip, it seemed. Meredith knew it would be all over by now, though people would have had to pass Meredith's door to get to Kira. Because of that, she had the pleasure of seeing the shock on Kira’s face when she delivered the news.
“I’ve been fired.”
“What the fuck?”
Meredith smiled at the reaction. “They’re using my relationship with Ben to get me out during my probationary period.”
“What did Ben say?”
Meredith shook her head. “I can’t talk to him right now. It’s not his fault but I can’t deal with the conversation we’re going to have. I don’t want to rehash what just happened.” She shifted her box. “I’m leaving now.”
Kira stood, saving her work with one hand and grabbing her coat with the other. “Should we hit the bars?”
“It’s three o’clock. You can’t leave with me.”
“Of course I can.”
“What will they say?”
Kira turned off her computer. “I don’t give a rat’s ass. Do you have more boxes?”
“One.” Meredith nodded toward the box outside her office. She lowered her voice. “They just fired me. I don’t want them to fire you too.”
Kira scooped up the box and wrapped her arm around Meredith's shoulder. “Sister, all for one and one for all. We are out of here!”
They strolled through the office to open jaws and bugged out eyes. Only later did they hear that everyone in the office thought that Kira had quit. That they had thought the box she held was her own possessions, cleared out of her windowless cement cell. They found out later that when Kira strolled into work the next day at 8:15 a.m., Lourdes called the office administrator, who halted the job posting for Accountant, much to Lourdes’ dismay. She’d had a cousin who fit the job description to the letter.
Meredith and Kira went straight to Kira’s adobe, where she mixed margaritas and got them both drunk. Meredith slept over at Kira's, who told her later that Ben had called at 9 p.m.
“Is Meredith there?” He’d sounded tired and angry.
“Yes, Ben, but she fell asleep after she threw up.” Kira’s speech was only slightly slurred. “Should I wake her?”
There was a long sigh. “No. Just let her sleep.”
Chapter Fourteen
Meredith woke with cotton mouth the next morning. Sun was streaming all over her and she smelled of vomit. Next to her bed was a thermos of coffee and a red toothbrush, still in its see-through box. There was a note from Kira but her eyes couldn’t focus well enough to read it. All she really wanted to do was keep sleeping. She shut her eyes. She opened them again. No, all she wanted to do was brush her teeth. Sitting up caused a massive rush of pain to her head. It felt like her brain was cut loose and knocking against the inside of her skull.
When the fuzz was off her teeth, she poured some coffee into the thermos lid and sipped. Only the first sip was minty. After a lidful, she could read Kira’s note. “Make yourself at home. Fresh towels in br (green). Eat anything. Call Ben.” She turned the note over so she couldn’t see the word “eat.” Sitting back in bed, she picked up the bedside phone and paged Ben.
“How are you?”
“Sorry I didn’t call.”
“It’s okay. I was worried,” Ben paused. “I heard what happened from Carmela. Maybe I’m the last person you’d want to see.”
“It wasn’t that,” Meredith said. “I was too drunk to remember to call,” she admitted. “I vomited.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Are you hung over?”
“Yeah. Actually, Ben, the truth is that you’re right. I didn’t want to call you. It’s not your fault, but you’re the excuse they used and if you hadn’t told Corky we were dating they would have never been able to do that.”
“Meredith, all the residents knew we were dating. It was bound to trickle up to the attendings. Corky probably already knew.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so, or she would have tried it sooner.”
Ben was silent.
“I’m sorry Ben. I know it’s not really your fault. She was going to find a way. I just wish she hadn’t used our relationship. I’ve been fired, Ben. Fired from my job.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve never been fired before, not ever in my whole life.”
They were silent for awhile.
“What are you planning for today?” Ben asked.
Meredith paused.
“Maybe I’ll drive to the Grand Canyon.”
“You could. It’s only seven hours away.” He barely missed a beat.
“If I do, I’ll let you know this time.”
“Meredith?”
“Hmmm?”
“If you don’t, could I come by and see you tonight?”
“Of course.” She wouldn’t have dreamed of saying no. He was worried about her. Probably worried about them.
Meredith lazed around all morning at home, recovering. She couldn’t concentrate long enough to read, or even watch television, so she lay on the sofa and watched the daylight move across her wall. Mendra hung out with her.
Eventually, Meredith got up to make tea. There was a blotch of dried tomato sauce on the kitchen floor. She bent down to wipe it up and ended up scrubbing the entire floor with a green and yellow pot scrubber. She scrubbed down all the counter tops and set the stove burners soaking in the sink with a teaspoon of bleach. In the bathroom, she left more bleach soaking in the porcelain bowl of the toilet. Her sofa cushions were vacuumed. She cleaned under the bed and threw her sheets in the washer. Cobwebs were wiped down from behind the television stand. She swept and beat the throw rugs outside.
Meredith flushed the toilet. The rust-colored stain marking the water line was still there, a result of New Mexico’s hard water. She thought she’d read that a brick can scrape away that stain without damaging the bowl. But otherwise her house was immaculate. It was 3:30. She roamed through the rooms. Before she knew it, she had opened the closet and taken out Ben’s box of paints. His canvases were good, but not big enough. She let her fingers do the walking. Yes, the art store in town sold rolls of canvas. Six feet by any length.
Her Nissan chugged up into the city. On the way home, her length of canvas extended from the back end of the car up into the front seat. She could have bought the whole roll, but why make promises you can’t keep? This wasn’t going to be a regular thing. On the seat of the passenger’s side were three paintbrushes and a box of thumbtacks.
She tacked the canvas to her living room wall, covered the floor below her with a rug, and chose her first color. As an art student, Meredith usually used charcoal or burnt sienna paint to sketch out the bones of her painting. This time, she went with Alizarin Crimson, blood red, and started sketching out her scene: a strong, proud woman with the New Mexican landscape sprawled out behind her.
The first slab of paint went on at 4:43. At six she was still at it. She’d stopped once to eat a peanut-butter sandwich. And many times to sit across the room and look. By seven it was all out of her. Like an operation, it was cut out of her and slapped up there on her living room wall. She felt light and airy. Deeply satisfied, with a slight rush, like she’d just forced out a very hard bowel movement, after years of constipation. The phone had been ringing. She went back and listened to her messages. Two from Kira. One from Ben. She shifted her eyes back to the wall and let the thrill of what was up there spill into her again. A painting. She felt the preciousness of it.
A car pulled into her driveway. She knew it was Ben. For a split second, she considered ripping the canvas down and hiding it. But it was wet. It’d get ruined.
Ben knocked and Meredith went to open the door. He had brought takeout from a very good restaurant.
“I thought you might be hungry. How are...” He handed her the food and headed over to her living room wall. For awhile, he was silent.
Screw him if he doesn’t like it, Meredith was thinking. She was going to tell him, “This is why I don’t paint. Because people like you can’t appreciate it.” She had her line loaded, ready to fire. She was just waiting for Ben to make the first offensive gesture.
He turned back around. “Why do you program computers,” he began, “when you can paint like this?”
Meredith’s bullets spilled all over the floor. She stuttered a bit as she got out her words. “Th-there’s no money.” He turned back to the piece. The woman in the painting was trudging forward, with the Sandias sprawled out behind her. She was using a wooden walking stick that had the face of a gremlin carved on the bottom of it.
Ben pointed to the gremlin. “Is that Corky?”
Meredith shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. She also blushed, because, actually, it was.
They were eating when Ben brought up the job. “I went to Lou, yesterday, and told him you and I had never discussed that project.”
Meredith was silent.
“He believed me. I know that.”
She raised her eyebrows. Ben looked at his plate, ashamed.
“He didn’t care. In fact, he gave me a lecture and told me that my behavior was inappropriate.”
“There are three sets of doctors married in that office, Ben.”
“I know. I pointed that out.” Ben couldn’t meet her eyes.
Silence between them. Then, all of a sudden, Meredith started to laugh and couldn’t stop. It was all way too funny. “Well, that’s the edict from King Lou. Don’t date Meredith, Ben. You’re a prince and she’s an Untouchable.”
“Meredith.” Ben looked worried by her laughter. “You can see, can’t you, that he’s a little crazy?”
“What?” Tears were streaming down her face. Her stomach was getting a workout.
“His ego’s incredible. He’s a little delusional, too. I mean, no one thinks that way.”
“He’s a loaded gun,” Meredith agreed.
“He’s already discharged,” Ben corrected. This sent Meredith into more peals of laughter.
“You should fight this.”
“Sorry,” Meredith gasped. “Okay. I’m under control.”
“No! The job. Fight them.”
“Is there wine in the fridge?”
“Meredith, you can’t drink this away. How are your finances? Do you have any savings?”
Meredith went to the fridge and took out a beer.
“Meredith, put that down.”
She popped it open and took a gulp.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Then stop talking and come watch television with me.”
Ben forced her out of bed the next morning.
“I want to sleep in.”
“You can’t.”
“Ben, shut up.”
He looped his hands under her arms and heaved her up. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty.”
Meredith considered crawling back to bed after Ben’s truck pulled away. But he’d plied her with caffeine and sleep seemed out of reach. She looked at the silent TV, but a day of talk shows wearied her.
She had decided to crawl back into bed anyway when the phone rang. Ben must be a mind reader, she thought as she picked it up.
“What the hell do you mean, you no longer work there?” It was Sarah.
Meredith was so startled that she didn’t know what to say. She paused for what felt like minutes and then asked, “Mom?”
“Very funny. What’s going on?”
“I got fired.” Meredith tested the words on her tongue. Nope, reality hadn’t sunk in yet. It had for Sarah, though.
“Well, whatever for?” She was acting like it hadn’t been months since they last talked.
“I guess Ben was part of a project I’d worked on and it looked like favoritism because I got it done in a timely way.”
“Was it?”
“Favoritism? No! I never even knew he was involved. The only reason it got done fast was because the first author didn’t change things fifty million times. She gave me one set of changes and stuck to them.”
“As opposed to Dorky-Corky.” Meredith was surprised that Sarah remembered Corky’s name. She smiled at the nickname.
“Yes. Dorky-Corky was certainly the driving force behind this.”
“Did you defend yourself?”
“I told them I didn’t know Ben was on the project.”
“And the multiple changes?”
“Well, no.”
“Why the hell not?”
/> “I can’t think that fast on my feet. They were sitting around me in a circle, accusing me. And I wasn’t expecting it.”
“You have to go back and fight this.”
“There’s no point. They wanted me gone. My six-month probation wasn’t over. They can fire you without even an explanation if you’re still on probation.”
“You’ve been doing that job for a year.”
“But officially, it’s been five months.”
“Hire a lawyer.”
“What for?”
“Retribution.”
“Maybe I’ll write them a letter. Just to set the record straight and defend my actions.”
“Oh, that’ll get ‘em. A letter. Watch out, here comes Meredith, and, ohmigod! She’s got a letter.” The old Sarah was back.
“Sarah, that kind of comment is why we don’t talk anymore.”
“We’re talking now, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but you know what I mean. You make fun of me.”
Silence. “I’m sorry, Meredith. I certainly never mean to be hurtful. It’s just that the way you handle things…is so different from the way I handle things. We have different styles.” She paused. “I’ve thought a lot about my role in our friendship. And I think I have a tendency to be overbearing and judgmental. Victor says I can be that way, too. So it’s not just you. But I don’t want to drive people away. At least, not people I care about.”
Victor? Meredith thought. The Yoga teacher?
“So, maybe you’d be willing to ah, help me out. Point out to me when I’m critical. Like you did just now. Because I don’t usually realize I’m doing it.”
“Of course. I’d be happy to do that.”
“Okay. Good. That’s great.”
“Sarah, I’ve missed you.” Meredith was surprised to realize how much her statement was true.
“Me too. Now, let’s talk about hiring you a lawyer.”
But instead of a lawyer, Meredith decided to compose a letter. As succinctly as she could, she explained her side of Corky’s story. After an hour and a half of writing it ran almost five pages long. She set it aside and looked up Attorneys in the yellow pages. There was a man named Ronald Gray who advertised himself as a labor attorney. Meredith dialed the number, arranging her letter in front of her in case she needed it to draw facts from it.
Searching For Meredith Love Page 19
