This “emergency” turned out to be particularly ridiculous. The client’s procurement office wanted a full rundown of her company’s corporate structure to make sure that they were signing with the “right” entity. It was a load of nonsense, but what their clients wanted, their clients got. She spent the next hour going through the organizational chart with the sales guy.
She was wrapping up The Stupidest Client Call Ever when she saw that she had gotten four IMs from the department’s paralegal, Lisa.
“Sara, just a kind reminder that our filing deadline for the 8-k is 5:30 Eastern time (4:30 CST).”
“Sara, it’s 3:30. Please approve the language, and I’ll file.”
“Sara, where are you? We have only one hour left to file, and I really prefer not to cut it close. PLEASE ADVISE.”
“Half hour left. I’m coming to find you!”
As Sara read the last message, Lisa rushed into her conference room.
“I know, I know—sorry, let’s go!” Sara said in a rush.
Sara had picked the farthest conference room from the department. The pair ran back as fast as they could and made it back to Lisa’s desk in record time. It was 4:09.
Sara grabbed the filing and started a final check. After six long, silent minutes, she said, “Good to go. Let’s file it. And, Lisa, so sorry for the drama. Won’t happen again.”
It was now 4:15. Plenty of time, thought Sara. She slumped in her chair at her cube and tried to catch her breath. She still wasn’t quite recovered.
“Done!” Lisa called from her own cubicle a few minutes later.
Sara clicked onto the SEC website, and that’s when she saw it. Her company had just made a filing with the SEC announcing the hiring of their new CFO. But they had uploaded the wrong file, announcing the company’s first choice, who had politely declined their offer, instead of their second choice, who had enthusiastically accepted.
Fuck me, Sara thought.
HEATHER
From Heather Hall’s Twitter
Heather Hall @therealheatherhall · March 6
A goal without a plan is just a wish #favoritequotes #AntoinedeSaintExupery #Frenchwisdom
← Reply Retweet ♥ Favorite ··· More
ELIZABETH
TGIF, thought Elizabeth as she pulled her BMW 3 Series into the drive of her center-entrance brick colonial on one of the most desirable streets in Whitefish Bay.
She and William had moved into the house about ten years ago, right before William’s family sold their business. The house had never even gone on the market. It was a classic. A perfectly maintained, five-bedroom colonial within a few blocks of the elementary school and Klode Park. The holy grail of Whitefish Bay real estate.
Everything about it was perfect, she thought as she looked at her home, now surrounded by mounds of snow that wouldn’t be melting for a while. Perfect except for one thing. The house was still too empty. But she was working on that.
As she walked through the back door, she could smell something fantastic emanating from the kitchen. Spaghetti Bolognese. That meant William was in a good mood. It was one of his favorite dishes to cook and it smelled like it was done, so William was probably halfway into a martini and almost ready to serve.
“Hi, babe!” William called from the kitchen. “What should I pour for you?”
“Just a glass of red would be perfect,” Elizabeth called back as she went upstairs to slip out of her work clothes and find George.
A few minutes later, they were all seated around the table. George was already happily digging into his meal.
“William, I have a wonderful surprise for you,” began Elizabeth as she placed a kiss on George’s forehead.
“Oh, yeah, what’s that, babe?” replied William, only half paying attention because he was trying to help George keep the spaghetti from escaping off his plate.
“I got tickets for us to go to Paris at the end of the month!” Elizabeth announced. “Remember that great place we stayed for our honeymoon? I thought since it’s almost our fifteen-year anniversary, it would be fun to go back! I know our actual anniversary isn’t until August, but I thought that we could start celebrating now. Work has been a grind, and, well, we really need to reconnect . . .”
As her voice trailed off, William smiled and said, “I’m sorry. Did you say you booked it already?”
“Um, yes. I did,” replied Elizabeth. “I wanted it to be a surprise and all ready to go. It’s not like you have anything else going on other than George. And I have that covered! Your parents and sister are willing to take him.”
William did not look happy, Elizabeth thought.
An awkward silence passed between them, and then William broke it.
“Elizabeth, you know I love the idea of getting away, but did you think to ask me first?” William said with more than a little irritation.
“I just thought that whatever you had going on could be shifted around. And I know you could use a break from the baby stuff, right?” asked Elizabeth tentatively.
“Well, it can’t just be shifted around with no notice,” William answered with now-apparent irritation. “And it really bothers me that you think it can. You’re not the only one with a schedule. For your information, some of my buddies and I were planning a March Madness party. I think they’ve already taken off work. I was even considering having it here so George could participate.”
“I’m sorry—you were planning for the baby to participate in a day of eating hot chicken wings, drinking beer, and watching basketball? I don’t know what to say to that.” Elizabeth laughed.
“You should say that you are going to find another weekend for our getaway. And you should consider whether it’s a good idea to treat me like one of your associates you can just boss around and whose plans you override whenever you feel like it. The fact that none of this crosses your mind is really a problem. And it also really pisses me off that you are laughing about it.”
William’s tone took Elizabeth by surprise, and she immediately felt her anger flair.
“Jesus Christ, William. You’re talking to me like I’m some kind of thoughtless asshole. Excuse me for trying to schedule a week of fun for us. I’ll just go back where you want me—sitting at my desk, working hard, while you boys have all the fun.”
“Elizabeth, that’s not the point, and you know it. Look, I’m sorry if I snapped. Being with a three-year-old all day isn’t easy,” William said, reaching out for her arm.
“I get that,” Elizabeth said as she flinched away, “but my needs should come first sometimes. Look, if we don’t start having a lot more sex, we are never going to have another baby!”
William’s face stiffened, and he turned away from her. Elizabeth responded by picking up the bottle of red and going to hide upstairs in their study.
Shit. The baby thing was starting to ruin her life.
But she couldn’t help it. Elizabeth had recently moved George out of the nursery into his big boy bed. And now the nursery sat empty, mocking her. This was the part of her life that no one got to see, a very private pain, the one thing coloring her otherwise wonderful life. Things that used to bring her pure joy —a walk in the park when it was bursting with color, a dinner out with her family or friends, even presents at Christmas—were now laced with regret and longing for another child. The more she tried to repress those sad feelings, the more they seemed to bubble to the surface. It may not have been rational, but it was very real.
Elizabeth was a little ashamed of her pain. She understood on a deep level that no one would ever feel sorry for her. Really, they would think, you have a big, lucrative job, a supportive husband, a healthy child, and a community of friends. But knowing all that didn’t change how Elizabeth felt. It was what it was. She desperately wanted a second child, and she was starting to worry as she watched forty come and go in February that this might be the one thing that she could not achieve.
Maybe she should have taken Heather’s lead and done a little more agg
ressive family planning. No, that isn’t fair, she reminded herself. She was actually a pretty good planner, but some things you can’t plan for. After William’s family business was sold, she became the sole breadwinner overnight while William tried out a bunch of new things, none of which panned out. She remembered lying in bed that night thinking, Okay, it’s all on me now. You got this. So she put off motherhood for the time being and set her mind to becoming partner. She’d made it by thirty-five, and they immediately started trying. William Jr. (whom they immediately christened “George”) was born two years later. And William wanted to stay home with George. So Elizabeth put aside any fantasy of staying home or going part-time and simply went back to work. It had been surprisingly easy and drama-free.
George was three now . . . and Elizabeth was forty. She and William had been trying unsuccessfully for a second baby as soon as they could after George was born.
And William never considered going back to work. He loved being at home, and she didn’t have the heart to force the issue. Well, that, and she loved having him at home. Being a parent was a joy for her in part because she wasn’t responsible for the day-today drudgery, and she didn’t have to worry about outsourcing it properly either. She was free to concentrate on herself and her career from the moment she woke up to the moment she came home. And, though it was challenging, she liked working, being part of the world outside the house, which wasn’t a small thing.
As she sat on the bed in frustration, it took her about three minutes to admit to herself that she was being unfair. William was working really hard. In fact, there was no harder job than caring for a three-year-old. William was right. She should have asked first about the trip or at least not assumed he was free. And the sex thing, well, the first rule of fight club was never to talk about fight club. She went back downstairs to apologize.
She ran into William as she exited the study. He must have just put George to bed.
“William, I’m sorry,” started Elizabeth.
“If you want to work on having another baby, you don’t have to take me to Paris, you know,” said William as he pulled Elizabeth into his arms. He was so easy to forgive.
“But—” Elizabeth countered.
“You need to learn when to shut up, counselor,” William whispered as he put a hand over her mouth and pushed her against the wall, pinning her arms above her head. She felt his mouth on her neck as he slid his hands under her T-shirt. Elizabeth made a contented noise.
“You better be quiet or you’ll wake up George,” William breathed into her ear.
Minutes later, she was shaking with pleasure and slumping against the wall. Elizabeth had gone from angry to frustrated to aroused in less than five minutes. William always did this to her, every time, since their first time together.
“Ready for your dinner now?” William teased as he kissed her tenderly. “Or did you want another round of dessert?”
This guy is too good to me, Elizabeth thought. I should be careful what I say. He might decide someday that he doesn’t want to take it from me anymore. William was the kind of person who couldn’t be dissuaded once he had made up his mind. There wouldn’t be a fight, just a quiet end. No, thought Elizabeth, I’m not ever going to let that happen to us. I’m going to figure my shit out and be happy.
CARMEN
At another dinner table, Carmen and Mark were enjoying the filet mignon with capers that Carmen had prepared, along with scratch chocolate cake for dessert.
This is really nice, Carmen thought. Just the two of us. She had tried to set a romantic mood. Candles. Real linen. She had even pulled out their wedding china. Technically, it was bought three years after the wedding, but who was counting.
After eating quietly for a while, Mark started the conversation.
“This is delicious, Carmen. Really good.”
“Thanks, honey,” replied Carmen as she tried to adjust her shirt to show off her décolletage and to hold her neck at its most flattering angle. “How was your week?”
“To tell you the truth, it’s really been rough. I might have to stay down in Chicago next week and through the weekend.”
“Really, again? I was thinking we should plan a getaway. We really haven’t gone anywhere good since we bought the house. Maybe something romantic?”
“Not going to happen, Carmen. I’ll make it up to you later this year, okay? Promise.”
Carmen felt her stomach drop and tried not to get upset. Another chance to get pregnant out the window.
“Sure, of course,” she heard herself say for what seemed like the thousandth time in their marriage, a union that made her a little smaller and a little quieter every day.
They silently finished the rest of meal, and Mark excused himself to go work.
Carmen sighed and was about to start on the dishes when she heard a buzz. It was Mark’s phone. He must have forgotten to take it with him into his home office.
She grabbed the phone and reflexively looked down. He had gotten a text from a “Nicole.” It said, “Make it quick, buddy.” She remembered that he had a Nicole on his deal team. Apparently, he made her work all hours too. Why couldn’t he have picked a different profession? Or, more likely, he was fucking her. She walked to the study to return his phone to him.
She was going to have to up her game.
She moved around his desk and slid herself in front of him.
“Carmen, I’m busy.” He sighed.
“C’mon, it only takes a few minutes,” Carmen said as she started to unbutton her shirt.
He considered for a moment and then pulled her to him.
As they fell into their old routine, Carmen’s thoughts went elsewhere. They always did, really. Maybe it would be different if he were a better kisser. That hadn’t been something high on her list when she was looking for a fun time at college. But he was here and he was with her. That was all that mattered, she told herself. But deep down, she knew better.
MARTHA
It was almost midnight when Robert burst into Martha’s hospital room. A good half-day late. To his credit, he looked anguished.
“God. I’m so sorry. My flight was delayed. How are you? How is she?” Robert asked, and his eyes seemed to plead with her for forgiveness.
Lucky for him, I’m not one of those women who doesn’t get it, thought Martha. She may have been disappointed as a wife, but as a fellow doctor, she understood why Robert worked as hard as he did.
“Take a breath.” Martha smiled. “I’m fine. She’s fine. Everything is just fine.”
Robert grabbed the chart at the foot of Martha’s bed and began scanning.
“Hey, Doctor, the patients are over here,” said Martha, waving to him from her hospital bed. She shouldn’t bother, she thought, knowing full well Robert wouldn’t be satisfied until he had read through her entire chart front to back, and Lucy’s as well. Again, it was both irritating and reassuring.
“I see you named her Lucy,” he said after a few minutes without looking up from the chart as he continued to read. “Fair enough, given the circumstances, I guess.”
Martha just smiled innocently.
“Her weight is low, but not bad given how early she was. Good thing she wasn’t a boy. Girls are generally healthier in these situations, if I remember correctly from my OB-GYN rotation. Hey, I’m going to go find the attending and just doublecheck on everything.” And with that, Robert strode out of the room, acting more like the doctor than the father.
He had forgotten to hold Lucy.
SARA
Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest. I’ll get right on that, Sara thought, right after I finish paying the bills. They had gotten takeout today, so at least she didn’t have dishes on top of it.
Sara was sitting at a little writing desk crammed in a corner of the crowded living room with her laptop and a large glass of red wine. The desk wobbled as she tried to speed through the process; it hadn’t quite been put together right. She and Scott had ordered it from IKEA and decided
to assemble it together. Their relationship had survived the ordeal, but that would be the last time they attempted a team assembly of Scandinavian furniture.
At the moment, Sara was looking at the cable bill, which struck her as outrageously large, especially because they also now subscribed to at least three streaming services.
“Scott,” Sara said as she clicked through the bill. “Do you really need all the channels we are subscribing to? Do you even watch that sports plus stuff?”
“Yes, Sara. You ask me that every month, and the answer is never going to be different,” Scott replied from another corner of the room, where he was lying on the couch with a beer and probably watching one of those exact sports channels.
“It just seems like we are really overpaying for television when we barely watch it.”
“Well, cancel HBO then. And the Netflix and Hulu while you’re at it.”
“No. Those are my things. And those are like forty bucks a month. The sports stuff is what’s killing us.”
“Or you could quit buying clothes,” Scott countered.
“Sure, I’ll just wear yoga pants to work. I’m sure they won’t mind,” Sara snipped right back.
“Sara, you need to back off. We are doing fine. And it’s good to have stuff to cut if things get rough, right?”
“I guess,” said Sara. “I just would really like to be saving more for retirement and for the kids’ college.”
“To be honest, if I have to choose between college football and college education, it’s not a contest,” Scott teased.
“Clearly,” replied Sara sarcastically.
Sara sighed and turned to Scott.
“I just feel nervous, Scott. We’re almost forty, and we have this huge mortgage. And the day care bill. And all this other shit,” Sara said as she waved her hand at the laptop. Although Sara acknowledged mentally that sometimes the only thing standing between her and the abyss was Netflix, noise-canceling headphones, and a glass of red wine.
All the Right Mistakes Page 5
