The worst of it was that Elizabeth didn’t think her absence had been worth it at all. Those three hours were not what she would consider “quality time.” They were a blur of cleaning tables, disinfecting toys, and cutting out shapes for some future art project.
She couldn’t let this stand, she thought. She picked up the phone.
“Yep,” Joe answered.
“Joe,” she said, “I heard Kenny is taking over the deal.”
“Elizabeth, I know, but it’s what the client requested,” he gruffed suspiciously.
“Look, I think that happened because Kenny was misinformed that I am pregnant. I’m not,” Elizabeth informed him calmly.
“Sure, sure,” Joe said, and, after an awkward pause, added, “Look, we can’t go back now. But this won’t affect anything else. And you don’t know that the pregnancy thing had anything to do with anything. Don’t make negative assumptions. Anyway, can’t change horses now. Gotta go. Big call coming in. Talk later.”
As Joe hung up on her, Elizabeth sighed. This was a mess.
Elizabeth gathered up her things so that she could get the hell out of her office. She had a lunch date with Heather’s book.
Elizabeth needed to get to the privacy of her own home. She sped there and locked herself away in the study to see what Heather had committed to paper (or the permanent digital record, as it was, since her book was available for download today, immediately, worldwide).
She started with the full description:
This sure-to-be runaway hit is a must-have for all women looking to get ahead in a man’s world. FLASH executive Heather Hall has been there, done that—and so have her closest friends. Drawing on all their collective experience, she reveals a distinctive set of mistakes women make that ultimately sabotage their careers—and their lives.
They are:
Mistake #1: Opting Out.
Mistake #2: Ramping Off.
Mistake #3: Half-Assing It.
Mistake #4: Ignoring the Fertility Cliff.
She knew then with a sickening certainty that this book wasn’t a send-up of the first-class problems of Heather’s fancy friends. No, this was something very different.
She began to scan the book.
After about thirty minutes with the book, it was clear to Elizabeth that Heather had done something very, very bad.
Heather had the nerve to sum up each of her four best friends’ journeys—every choice, every trade-off, every win, and every heartbreaking loss—under the heading of one of four “big” mistakes women make that sabotage their lives.
Elizabeth couldn’t decide which of the chapters was the worst. Her bashing of “C” for leaving behind a world of opportunity to live with a man she was certain was unfaithful to her? Her criticism of “M” for giving up her medical career to be “just a mom”? Her scolding of “S” for struggling because she was overcommitted at home and undercommitted at work? Or was it her warning not to end up like her best friend, “E,” unable to complete the family she wants because she planned badly?
Four mistakes. Nice and tidy. And devastating. Especially for Elizabeth. Her old roommate. The person Elizabeth thought would be there for her on the things that really mattered.
At least Heather had the decency to try to “anonymize” their names (well, at least until her incriminating Facebook posts). But Heather had not anonymized the facts, not even one little bit. Elizabeth’s whole life was bloodlessly detailed right there in Heather’s book under “Mistake Number Four.” As Elizabeth read “her” section, she felt all her old insecurities, the ones she worked hard to keep safely below the surface, bubble up and threaten to overwhelm her.
By about one in the morning Elizabeth was satisfied that she had taken in everything that Heather had put out there. It was time to break the news to the others. They would not be likely to read Heather’s book unprompted (Did Carmen or Sara read much at all these days?), and they needed to know what their friend had done.
She picked up her phone and started texting: DEFCON 5
CARMEN
Carmen was in her car when she got Elizabeth’s text. Carmen thought it had to do with the Christmas get-together they had been talking about. But then she saw it: DEFCON 5.
That’s dramatic, even for Elizabeth, she thought.
After some back and forth, she realized that she would be forced to read Heather’s stupid book if only to calm Elizabeth down. In short order, she downloaded the audio and was listening to her old friend’s chirpy voice echoing inside her car.
Let’s start with Mistake Number One: Opting Out.
I’ll be honest. I really hate writing about this particular mistake.
What can I say? This mistake is about women who take a spot at a good university and often professional school as well, and then, well, there’s no nice way to say this, simply waste the enormous investment those institutions have made in them by quitting.
Sometimes these ladies get their “MRS” right out of the gate and never even get started. Sometimes they fold up their tent after only a couple years. So many of them throw in the towel the moment they get pregnant.
All the same, I’d say. And all such a waste.
My friend “C” was one who quit right out of the gate. In her defense, it wasn’t premeditated—she accidentally got pregnant in college. But what a loss. C might be one of the very smartest people I know (and I work in Silicon Valley, so I know A LOT of smart people!). She was the top student in the economics department. She would have been going on to a great job and probably Harvard Business School after that if that was what she wanted.
She didn’t plan a pregnancy, but it happened all the same. And it prevented her from getting the amazing start she deserved. I encouraged her to end the pregnancy. She was in college—much too young to bring a new life into the world! I’m not sure she’s ever fully forgiven me for that. Especially because it turns out that her baby is still an only child, even after years and years of trying (Hey, maybe this will be her lucky year—ha!).
Also, it’s my personal bet that Mr. C is a serial cheater. But you know what? She lives with it. Why? Because she doesn’t have much of a choice (more on that later . . .).
But I digress. While C quit sooner than most, thousands of the most well-prepared women in America have joined her. They quit after college. After law school. After medical school. After a couple of years into what had been a promising start in a great company. National media outlets have heralded them the “Opt-Out Generation.”
Let’s get real. First, it’s my sneaking suspicion that this is not a real “choice” for many of these ladies. It’s an excuse for women who are struggling in their chosen field and don’t want to do the work to get better. There, I’ve said it.
And the consequences of this choice are nothing less than disastrous. Let’s start with the simple power dynamics. When a woman becomes a mere “Mrs.” she becomes a dependent. No different than a child really. Her husband has all the power. If she’s lucky, he loves and supports her without resentment. That will happen, statistically speaking, about half the time. For the other half, the numbers become grim, fast. Let me acquaint you with some more statistics . . .
I knew it, Carmen thought. Elizabeth should have listened to me all those years ago when I warned her about Heather. That cold calculation. That ambition.
She didn’t care anymore what Heather thought about her choice to have Avery. That ship had sailed a long, long time ago. But what she wrote about Mark, that was a different matter. Mark might be a bastard, but he was still Avery’s dad. And Avery didn’t need to read that shit about her dad. Or her mom, for that matter.
It was time to call the tribal council and vote Heather Hall off the island once and for all.
But first she had to deal with the bastard himself.
Carmen still couldn’t believe how quickly almost twenty years of marriage could dissolve. And how little of him surrounded her now. To be fair, they hadn’t had time to bring his stuff u
p to Lake Geneva. But he wasn’t even in the places he should have been. Even the family pictures she had installed there were just of her and Avery—Mark had always been “working.” He had never really been there. And he certainly wasn’t going to be now.
A few days ago she had received the financial settlement Mark’s attorney was proposing.
When the term sheet arrived, everything had looked good. She wasn’t a lawyer, but she knew enough from her past education to understand how to read it. The hard part wasn’t the legalese—it was that Carmen actually had no idea how much money they had. She had always managed expenses from a generously funded household account. She knew they had enough money for a really fancy house and nice vacations. But, at a high level, she didn’t know exactly how wealthy they were.
As she looked over the terms, it seemed like things were going to go as planned—fifty-fifty. Twenty thousand dollars per month for spending. She got to keep the weekend house, as promised. The 401(k) plans would be split evenly, as well as all their deposits.
But then she’d spotted some odd language at the bottom of the sheet. It stated, “To the extent either party is the owner or beneficiary of any company or legal entity held separately in their own name, that party will retain their interest wholly in such entity with no expected or actual contribution to the other party.”
Huh, she had thought. That’s weird. Neither of them owned other companies or entities. That she knew of, anyway. Was Mark up to something sneaky?
Carmen had stewed about that provision for a while and finally decided that it was time to once and for all learn everything about the real Mark. She did a little checking and found a forensic investigator who specialized in situations like her own. He had agreed to meet her in his office downtown that afternoon.
As Carmen pulled into his building, she turned off chirpy Heather—she would get back to her later—and gathered her thoughts for the meeting.
Carmen had been in his waiting room for about five minutes when her new investigator, Paul Stark, came out to meet her.
She found herself looking at the best set of eyes she had ever seen. Kind, warm, green ones, and she could swear that they were smiling at her. And then she noticed his body. Not a gym body. The body of a guy that takes care of his own lawn and always volunteers to carry the heavy groceries. Carmen felt a little shiver run through her.
“Nice meeting you, Carmen,” Paul said as he moved to shake her hand. “I shouldn’t say this, but that husband of yours must be a real idiot.” He laughed, revealing a welcoming smile.
His hands were big and a little rough. She felt a little current of electricity when he touched her shoulder, as well as an unfamiliar flutter in her stomach.
These were all feelings that Carmen thought grown women didn’t have anymore.
The meeting with Paul went very well. Aside from her initial impression, he was clearly well suited to the job. When the meeting concluded, Carmen signed a retention agreement and got back in the car to go home. As she started the engine, her thoughts turned back to Heather. She couldn’t wait to hear what Martha thought about all this.
MARTHA
Martha tried to visit Lucy’s grave once a week, but only during the school day so the boys wouldn’t have to dwell on the sadness of her death. Now that they were finally back at school, they seemed to have moved on for the most part. Bobby had regained his lost appetite and was back to a healthy weight, and Jack had stopped asking Martha when Lucy was coming home.
In the end, Robert had quietly taken the extension in Milwaukee after their fight in June and actually started coming home more often as well. She wouldn’t say she was happy, but she was better. They had never talked about it, but on some level Martha knew she might never be able to leave Wisconsin. This is where Lucy would be, forever. The idea of that was somewhat unimaginable, and she still couldn’t really wrap her head around it. But there it was, and there it would remain.
As she made her way to the gravesite under a lovely oak, she saw a man standing near Lucy’s grave. She realized with a start that it was Robert.
He must have come over on a break because he was still wearing scrubs under his barn jacket. He was standing with his hands at his sides and his head bent. Martha waited a short while before she walked over to meet him. She stood quietly next to him for a few minutes and then decided that today was the day they were going to have a real talk about what had happened to them both.
“Robert, I didn’t know you were planning to visit.”
“I wasn’t really. But I missed her. I was the last person she saw, you know. The very last one. And I couldn’t save her.” His voice broke a little, and he looked away, embarrassed.
“Robert, I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for you. But no one could have saved her. Please believe that I don’t blame you.”
Martha reached for Robert’s hand and tried to hold tight, but he dropped her hand as he seemed to lean away from her.
“Martha, I know that, I do. But it will always stick with me. I couldn’t save my own baby. I’ve lost patients before, and it was painful. But this. It’s something else. I can’t even put it into words. But I know it’s something that I will be carrying around for the rest of my life.” He sighed, bowed his head, and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets.
“And I’m the mom who didn’t want her.”
“That’s ridiculous, Martha. Of course you did.”
“After she was born, I did. But I also kind of resented her at first. You know I was thinking about trying to go back to work before I got pregnant with her. Maybe this was my punishment for being so conflicted about the whole thing.”
“This wasn’t anyone’s fault,” said Robert as he finally took his hands out of his pockets and reached for Martha’s hand. “And we can’t change it. But we can change how we are now. I love you, Martha. I want to be better. For you. And for the boys. I’m trying to be home more. I’m doing my best—I really am.”
“I know you are. I appreciate it, I do.” Martha paused and took a deep breath. Now was her moment. “But Robert, I need more. I want to get back into the world. I can’t just sit at home while you and the boys are at work and school. I think I want to practice medicine again. But it can’t be like before. Robert, do you remember that business trip you took after Jack was born when Carmen came to visit?”
“Not really,” he replied.
“The one after which I decided to quit at the clinic and stay home.”
“Oh, okay, yes, I sort of remember.”
“Well, a lot more happened that weekend than I ever told you.”
“Okay.”
“Robert, I pretty much had a full-on anxiety attack. I didn’t feel like I could leave our bedroom for several days. If Carmen hadn’t rescued me, I don’t know what would have happened. I was trying so hard to do it all. Practice medicine. Breastfeed Jack exclusively. Run the house. You know, everything. I lost it, Robert.”
“Martha, why didn’t you say something?”
“I don’t know. I was embarrassed, I guess. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t handle it all.”
“Martha, I’m so sorry. What can I do differently this time?”
“Well, for one, I need you to help me more. Especially if I want to try to go back to work. To be honest, I’m not sure anymore that’s what I want, but I need the option to try. And I don’t want to live in fear that you are going to take a job somewhere else and I’ll have to give up my thing, whatever it ends up being. I need something real and permanent.”
Martha looked down at her feet, worried that Robert would go back to his old ways and disappoint her again. And then he surprised her.
“Okay, let’s fix it,” Robert replied, and squeezed her hand. “I might not always have the right words or do the right thing, but I will always, always, be on your side. No matter what. I hope you know that. I love my work, but I love you more. If it seems like I take things for granted, it’s because I don’t worry about us, ever. You were
home for me right from the beginning, Martha. That’s never going to change.” Robert pulled Martha into his arms and held her as tightly as he ever had.
Martha knew at that moment that they were going to make it. She was going to plan a life here in Wisconsin. She would have roots here. All of them would, including Lucy.
As she and Robert parted and she walked back to her car, Martha made a note that September in Wisconsin was so much more beautiful than she had expected. It wasn’t New Hampshire perfect, but that same fall smell was there, and the colors of the leaves hinted that a beautiful display was coming in a few weeks. Maybe she would take pictures and send them to her mother; without some compelling evidence, she wouldn’t believe that Wisconsin’s fall rivaled New England’s.
Martha decided then and there that it was time to get on with the business of being happy.
As it turned out, that sentiment lasted less than a half an hour.
As she climbed behind the wheel and grabbed her phone to check her messages, she saw an alert that Heather had posted something with her name on it on Facebook. Weird. And there was a text from Carmen that said, “CALL ME!” and another group text from the girls that started with “DEFCON 5.” She decided to start with the Facebook post.
Minutes later, she had downloaded the book and sat in total silence at the cemetery reading in her car.
It didn’t take Martha very long to figure out what she was reading. And she had no trouble identifying “her” mistake —“Mistake Number Two.” As she read Heather’s cruel words, she felt a cold fury building inside herself:
Mistake #2: Ramping Off.
You will tell yourself that you will just take a few months off. And then you will go back to work and realize how hard it is to do both.
And they will show you a “ramp.”
Maybe it’s part-time. Maybe it’s a temporary leave. Maybe it’s “We understand, and there’s a spot for you when you come back.”
All the Right Mistakes Page 10
