All the Right Mistakes

by Laura Jamison

  I’m here to tell you that if you get off on one of those exit ramps, you may never get back on the highway. And if you manage to find your way back? The cars you were traveling along with? They are miles down the road. You will never catch up, no matter how fast you drive.

  Never.

  I have a friend. Let’s call her “M.” She’s a doctor, and so is her husband. Well, was. Only one of them is practicing now because M took one of those off-ramps. Maybe she will get back on someday. I doubt it, but we’ll see. But I can tell you this much. While she’s at home saving yogurt lids or box tops or whatever for the PTA, he gets to save something else.

  He gets to save lives . . .

  Martha dialed her best friend.

  “What a fucking bitch,” Carmen answered.

  “Beyond,” agreed Martha. “You know, I don’t care what Ms. High-and-Mighty has to say about stay-at-home moms. I mean, whatever. And she has no idea what is really going on behind closed doors between Robert and me. Her analysis is just simplistic and stupid. What I just can’t process, Carmen, is that while Heather was spending time getting ready to launch a book picking us over, I was putting my baby in the ground. How on earth could she have justified missing a funeral for that? Carmen, I think I’m done with Heather for good.”

  “I get that,” said Carmen. “It really is unforgivable.”

  “I just don’t see myself ever getting past this. And I shouldn’t have to. Heather doesn’t have an entitlement to my friendship. You know I don’t like to cut people out of my life, Carmen, but Heather’s not family, and some people don’t deserve a second chance.”

  “Elizabeth and Sara are probably going to defend her.”

  “Well, they need to think long and hard about that. Enough’s enough.”

  SARA

  Sara would be the last of the four to figure out what was going on that day.

  It was the end of the workday, but she had one meeting left. Today was the day she would be discussing her expense study findings with the COO.

  Sara had never fancied herself a businessperson, but she was beginning to wonder if she had missed her calling. She had spent the last few months interviewing department heads to understand their cost structure. She had found the fat and was excited to pass it on to the new COO and get back to her regular legal work. Just as Sara had gotten her things ready for the meeting, she saw the texts from Elizabeth and jumped into the conversation:

  Hey! Some of us have to work, Carmen. Be nice.

  After the back and forth she decided she would have to check out the book at her first opportunity. Elizabeth seemed pretty upset, which was really out of character for her. As she reluctantly put down her phone, she realized she had no more time and had to get right down to Mr. Rose’s office.

  “Sara! My secret weapon,” Mr. Rose said as he met her at his door. “Come on in. I have such great news for you. First pick a chair. And keep in mind that whatever chair you pick tells me everything I need to know about you!”

  The four chairs were arranged in a circle facing one another. After a moment of panic, she decided on the chair facing east, and he seemed to nod his approval. Good God, Sara thought. This guy really is all hat and no cattle, as Carmen would say.

  “Sara, you’ve nailed it. I knew we had a number of overlapping and repetitive things going on. I was surprised at how many items you flagged, I have to say. But we can do more here. What’s your experience with outsourcing?”

  Um, thought Sara, I have had the “experience” of discovering it might be killing my husband’s job.

  “Well, Mr. Rose, none. I’m a lawyer.”

  “As a company, we are behind on this. You have proven that we have a ton of potential here. Let’s take it to the next level.”

  Oh crap, Sara thought. What have I done?

  “Well, I think that might be simplifying things a bit,” she said. “There is still an element of judgment in many somewhat repetitive processes.”

  “Of course. Hey, I’m not talking about using robots. These will still be humans.”

  “I understand. I hope you are able to meet your goals, of course. Were there any other questions about my conclusions?”

  “I’m not in the details. But you will be. I’d like you to come work for me as a VP. Whatever you are making—double it. But expect to spend some significant time in India for training and process development. Maybe the Philippines. And you have to take early calls because of the time differences.”

  “Mr. Rose, that’s all very flattering, but I’m an attorney. I like to practice law. And I also have four children, so my schedule is not incredibly flexible.”

  “Hey, I’m a feminist. I don’t care how many kids you have. And I don’t care when you work. As long as the work gets done, I’m happy. Any eighty hours, you know what I mean? Do it. Don’t do it. Your choice. But the offer expires Friday. After that, I’ll find someone else. And trust me—there is always someone else,” he said as he rose with a wink and moved to shake her hand, signaling that the meeting was over.

  Sara shook his hand and left, bewildered at her predicament.

  She went back to her desk with her head in a jumble. She decided to take a break and sort through her personal e-mails. At the top of the list was a reminder to pay the AmEx bill. It was over seven thousand dollars this month because, in addition to the typical three thousand dollars of regular expenses, there were the annual soccer registration fees (another three) and the twelve pairs of back-to-school shoes (four sets of everyday shoes, gym shoes, and winter boots).

  “Hey, friend,” Katherine said as she breezed into Sara’s cube. “How did the meeting go?”

  “Well, it’s not what I expected. He offered me a job, Katherine.”

  “No shit. Better pay.”

  “Like crazy better pay.”

  “Take it! What do you have to lose?”

  “Well, it’s not really a law job per se. But if Scott actually loses his job, we’d be covered. But I was told it’s extensive travel. Or maybe it was extreme travel. Like India. And more hours.”

  “Well, what if you did it for just a year or two and banked the cash?”

  “Maybe,” said Sara. “I just don’t want to work those long hours. It’s why I left the firm in the first place.”

  “I get that. Well, look, it’s nice to be asked anyway. So, hey, I saw your friend pop up on Twitter. I think she published a new book or something. Do you know what it’s about?”

  “No, I don’t downshift that fast.” Sara laughed. “I’ll probably order it today, though. I think it’s something about career mistakes or something. Maybe I can learn something. I hope it has some dishy stories about some of her famous friends.”

  “Right?” said Katherine. “Well, I gotta get back to it.”

  Sara didn’t feel like working, so she decided to download the book and read it furtively on her phone.

  As she settled into her chair and began to read, she suddenly came to a terrible realization.

  This was not just any book. And it wasn’t dishing dirt on Heather’s famous friends. It was about them.

  What had Heather done?

  A crushing wave of anxiety hit Sara as she thought about all the conversations about work and life and, well, everything, she had shared with her friends over the years.

  Sara thought about all the stories she had told Heather about the law firm (not great). And her company (really, really not great). The “woman” stuff. The pathological narcissism of senior leaders. The sheer meanness. She thought Heather had understood that those stories went deep down into the vault, only to be opened upon pain of death. Sometimes you had to eat your little pile of shit in the workplace, and it was the job of a good girlfriend to let you bitch about it and commiserate. But never, never tell.

  She felt the bile begin to rise in her throat.

  Would this book hurt her career or her relationships with her work colleagues? She suspected that there would be consequences, and she wouldn’t
necessarily see them coming. It’s not like her former colleagues were going to pick up the phone and scold her for her criticism. That’s not how those people operated. They would have their revenge in due time. Like when she needed a letter of recommendation. Or a favor for a friend.

  What about Tommy? He was almost thirteen. His friends’ moms might read it too.

  Okay. Calm down, Sara, one thing at a time, she told herself, trying to quell the rising nausea. She had to assess the actual damage and then she would let herself freak out.

  Sara zeroed in on “her” section right away—Mistake Number Three, “Half-Assing It.”

  You haven’t quit. You haven’t ramped off.

  Good for you.

  But let’s not forget—half effort will equal half results. If women want to lead and win, they have to be willing to put in the blood, sweat, and tears that are always, always required.

  I look around the room at the executive retreats I often attend. And I think about the boardrooms of the Fortune 500.

  Not a lot of women.

  Why?

  Because they aren’t willing to put in the extra effort. To look for the promotion. To go for the raise.

  I understand the desire to have time for family, I do. But ladies, here’s the secret—once you make it to the top, you can actually achieve the balance you are trying to strike! You just have to work hard NOW to get it. Yes, sacrifice might be required, but the alternatives are not good ones.

  So go for it. Or you can just plod along like my friend “S,” doing everything half-assed and badly. If she would just dig in and make it to the next level at work, she would find that she has the time and resources to enjoy her four children.

  Sara felt her anxiety drain away as she finished her section. Well, Heather’s book is certainly unkind, she thought. But she didn’t say anything that would hurt me at work. God, it could have been so much worse. Hell, maybe she’s right. I did bite off more than I can chew.

  Sara breathed a sigh of relief and gathered up her things to go home.

  The traffic was light, and she was home way ahead of schedule. As she pulled into the drive, she noticed Scott was already home too. Early for him as well. Great, thought Sara, maybe he already has dinner going. The adrenaline of the afternoon had not quite worn off yet, and Sara was hopeful that she could just crack open a bottle of wine and couch.

  She pushed the front door open, stepped over the ever-present pile of backpacks and shoes, and went over to sort the mail. Right on top she saw a folder labeled “Beck, Scott, Separation Agreement.”

  She knew instantly that she would have to get her immunizations for India.

  HEATHER

  From: Heather Hall

  Sent: Thurs. 9/5 7:15 a.m.

  To: Elizabeth Smith Carmen Jones Martha Adams West Sara Beck

  Subject: So what do you think?

  By now, I hope you’ve made the time to read my book (If I have the time to write it, you guys certainly have the time to read it!). I can’t thank you enough for the inspiration you gave me. Your stories are helping women everywhere. I am hearing from so many young people; they are so engaged! Finally, someone has given them the road map for success! Look, I know I covered some sensitive topics, but I also know how giving all of you guys are and that you wouldn’t mind.

  We always said we would tell our stories someday, didn’t we? And you know what? Keeping things secret is one of the big obstacles to progress. Look at all the terrible things that have happened because people didn’t speak their truth. It’s our job to tell each other’s stories so that we can pave the way for real, lasting change in society.

  I know I said not to write, but I’ve changed my mind. I’d love to know what you think.

  Love and kisses,

  Heather

  ELIZABETH

  Elizabeth had taken the day off to formulate her game plan at work. What a mess Heather had made! She had read Heather’s e-mail this morning, and she couldn’t believe that Heather had taken the position that it was her job to tell her friends’ “truths.” Somewhere along the line, she had neglected to realize that every woman’s story belongs to her, and her alone.

  Elizabeth decided to spend some time alone on her porch with her favorite coffee cup. It was her thinking place when life overwhelmed her. As she sat there considering how to handle her situation, she tried to remember what she had loved about Heather in the first place.

  Well, for starters, if it hadn’t been for Heather, she wouldn’t have met William, so that was something.

  She had been in her last year of law school at Columbia and, too late, found out that her parents were going on vacation over Thanksgiving, so she had no place to go. She was planning to just hunker down and study, but Heather insisted that she come with her back to Wisconsin. Heather had always been generous like that.

  She remembered getting off the tiny plane and being amazed at just how green and clean Wisconsin was, particularly compared with the grime and smell of Manhattan that she had grown accustomed to. After experiencing a Thanksgiving right out of a Norman Rockwell painting in Heather’s hometown of Oconomowoc, she’d driven her rented sedan back down to Milwaukee to fly back to school. But when she arrived at her departure gate, she’d discovered her flight had been canceled due to inclement weather in the New York area. Oh well, she had thought. One more night here. She’d plopped down into one of the seats in the waiting area and started asking around about a decent, cheap hotel nearby (it seemed too far to go back to Heather’s in Oconomowoc).

  “Looking for a place to stay?” a young man sitting next to her had asked.

  “Yep,” Elizabeth had replied, and she found herself looking at a guy with sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes who held himself with the confidence of a guy who might have been the high school quarterback.

  And now they were celebrating their fifteenth anniversary.

  Maybe Heather was right that she could have planned things better, but it was in the past. Who knows, it might have been just as hard for her in the earlier years. But she would never know. And that was the tough part. Living with the thought of what might have been. She needed to start thinking beyond the baby thing, though. Maybe she would put some effort into figuring out her next steps in her career for a change. She had spent most of her time at the firm with her chin tucked down, working at top speed, so that she hadn’t really considered whether there was a way to approach the job to make it a little more enjoyable. It seemed kind of impossible, but maybe there was a way.

  “Babe, can we get takeout tonight? I’m beat, and George and I just want to watch college football,” called a voice from inside.

  “You got it,” replied Elizabeth with a smile, thinking, Sure, George wants to watch football.

  Oh, Heather, she thought, turning back to her predicament. Elizabeth was angry, she was, but it was always hard for her to stay mad at Heather for long. Heather might have been distant since she became famous, but Heather had been from the beginning a good and loyal friend to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth would never forget the day she decided that Heather would be a forever friend. It was fall of their sophomore year, and the girls had decided to give sorority rush a go. It was the second round, and they had just been given a list of the houses that were interested in them. They had decided that they weren’t going to go to the next round unless they all got invited back to the same houses on this round. They all agreed that they would be happy to be in any four of the six houses, and they also hoped that they would be together, or at least only split in two, which seemed to be good odds.

  They had met at the Hop to open their bid envelopes.

  “Yes! All four!” exclaimed Carmen.

  “Same,” Martha said with a smile.

  “Me three,” chimed in Sara happily.

  Elizabeth opened her envelope and saw only one sorority listed. And it wasn’t one of th
e four they all had liked. It was the one that you got invited to no matter what. She was embarrassed to admit it, but she wasn’t really excited to pledge there.

  “I didn’t get any of the ones we liked,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry, you guys. I guess I’m just not good at a party.”

  “Whatever, we’ll just all drop out,” replied Carmen, but she didn’t seem very enthusiastic about the prospect.

  Heather opened her envelope quickly and said, “Well, I just got the same as Elizabeth. Listen, you guys go ahead and keep going. Elizabeth and I can drop together. No big deal.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Carmen, failing to hide her hope.

  “Of course,” said Heather with a dismissive wave. “It’s ridiculous to think we will all be together for this kind of stuff anyway. Go have fun. Just make sure we get invited to all the good parties.”

  After lunch, Heather and Elizabeth found their bikes and took off together toward Baker Library and their next classes. As they parted ways on the Green, something dropped out of Heather’s backpack. Elizabeth rode over to pick it up, intending to give whatever it was back to Heather the next time she saw her.

  Elizabeth realized as she picked it up that it was Heather’s bid card. And right there, clear as day, was a list of the four sororities that had invited Heather back. Elizabeth had never told Heather she knew and certainly didn’t tell anyone else either, but it was one of those things that she would never forget.

  Sorority rush seemed like a trivial thing now that they were adults, but back then it wasn’t. It had been a big deal for all of them, especially Heather, who was beautiful and bright, but didn’t have the social connections of someone like Martha.

  Yes, Elizabeth still hoped for a happy ending. After the girls punished Heather, maybe they could all figure out a way to forgive her.

  And just as Elizabeth started to really settle into that thought, her cell phone buzzed.