Evie's Job

by Tess Mackenzie

  “When’s your birthday?” Natalie said.

  Evie opened her eyes. “What?”

  “I don’t know when your birthday is.”

  “I know you don’t.”

  Natalie didn’t understand.

  “Pick one, remember?” Evie said.

  Natalie sat for a moment, trying to work out what that meant.

  “From ages ago,” Evie said. “Remember? I’d tell you my age or my birthday or something else. I forget what else. But not all three.”

  Natalie couldn’t quite believe that Evie had remembered, and that she was actually keeping to it. “Still?” Natalie said. “Really?”

  “Nope,” Evie said, grinning. “Of course not. February.”

  “When?”

  “Ask me again nearer. When you’ll remember.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  “The seventeenth. When’s yours?”

  “June the twelfth.”

  “Thank god,” Evie said. “No-one’s missed any birthdays.”

  Natalie smiled. Evie was probably teasing, but Natalie was actually a little relieved.

  “Although,” Evie said, thinking. “I don’t know why you’re asking. You’re not supposed to give me things, so it doesn’t do you much good to know.”

  “I can’t…” Natalie said. “What?”

  “You can’t give me things. Or money. Or pay me. Remember?”

  “But your birthday…”

  “It’s still giving things.”

  “I have to give you something,” Natalie said, slightly shocked. “It’s your birthday. I can’t just not.”

  Evie shrugged. “Okay. Well, what?”

  “I’m not going to tell you…”

  “Yeah,” Evie said. “Except I have a funny feeling what you might do, so I’d like to know first. If that’s okay?”

  “I have no idea,” Natalie said. “I hadn’t thought about it yet. Why, what do you want?”

  “Nothing. I don’t need anything.”

  “What would you like, then?”

  Evie shook her head. “Nope. No way. You can’t just ask me that. It’s like giving me gift vouchers.”

  “But you asked,” Natalie said.

  “Oh?” Evie said. “Yeah, I did. Well in that case, you can guess.”

  Natalie was still rubbing Evie’s feet, and had a feeling Evie wasn’t entirely concentrating on their conversation. Evie’s eyes were closed. Her attention was drifting. Mostly, she seemed to be absorbed by Natalie’s hands.

  “There must be something you need,” Natalie said. “Clothes?”

  “My clothes are fine.”

  “Something?” Natalie said. “A car.”

  Evie laughed. “Yeah right.”

  “Do you want a car?”

  Evie opened her eyes. She stopped laughing. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”

  Natalie hadn’t been, not really, but suddenly she was. “I am.”

  “You can’t buy me a car.”

  “Actually I can. Do you want one.”

  “Um, no. Because that’s way too much.”

  “Jewellery?” Natalie said, because Evie didn’t usually wear much, and she’d wondered before if that was by choice, or because she lacked anything she really liked.

  “Okay,” Evie said, seeming oddly subdued. “Why not? If you have to do something, then yep, get me jewellery.”

  “I don’t have to,” Natalie said, unsure why Evie was sounding the way she did.

  Evie shrugged.

  “You don’t mind?” Natalie said, not quite sure what Evie expected here.

  “If you have to, then go ahead.” Evie sat there for a moment. “Actually, that kind of sounds ungrateful.”

  “No,” Natalie said. “I understand. So jewellery’s fine?”

  Evie nodded, then looked up. “Um, wait. Do you mean jewellery that costs as much as a car.”

  Natalie looked at her for a moment, and wanted to smile. She had half-meant that, at least as something to consider later, and she was a little surprised that Evie had noticed. She shouldn’t be, she supposed. Evie was clever. Evie thought like a lawyer. She saw loopholes in contracts that hadn’t yet been made.

  “So not that?” Natalie said.

  “Absolutely not,” Evie said. “Fuck no, you can’t.”

  “I want to.”

  “Natalie, that’s stupid. I think you’re teasing, but anything like that is way too much.”

  “It’s stupid?”

  “Yeah, actually, it is. It’s utterly stupid. Sorry, but, fuck, this is me. I’d lose it, or get robbed, or something awful. Someone would chop off my hand to steal a ring.”

  “No-one would really…” Natalie said.

  “Want to bet? With a ring that cost as much as a car on my hand? I’d chop off someone’s hand to steal it, if they were silly to walk around with it on.”

  Natalie couldn’t decide if Evie was serious. She wondered if she should ask.

  “I’m almost serious,” Evie said. “And I would actually lose it. Whatever it was. So just don’t, okay? Nothing like that.”

  “I could give you insurance too?”

  “Stop it,” Evie said.

  Natalie kept looking at her.

  “Please,” Evie said. “You really don’t have to be like this. It’s too much.”

  Natalie realized Evie was really upset. “Sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t… I was mostly just joking.”

  “I know, but don’t okay? It’s kind of weird.”

  “All right. But I can get you something? Something small?”

  “Something small if you want. But not cars and shit. Nothing over the top, okay.”

  Natalie nodded. “I promise.”

  “And my birthday’s after Christmas anyway,” Evie said.

  “Yes,” Natalie said, not understanding. “I know.”

  “Gifts are at Christmas too.”

  “Yes.”

  “So just let me get the rest of this year out the way, and then we can fight about gifts all December.”

  “We won’t fight.”

  Evie looked at her. “We are now.”

  “We’re not fighting.”

  “We will if you don’t stop. So stop.”

  Natalie shrugged, and smiled, and kept rubbing, and couldn’t decide how serious the whole conversation had been.

  *

  “Switch around,” Evie said, and moved her feet away from Natalie’s hands. “You’ve been doing that for ages. It’s my turn.”

  Natalie nodded, and waited while Evie reorganised herself. Evie put her feet on the floor, and then looked at Natalie. “What should I do?” Evie said. “Face or feet? Or something else?”

  “Face,” Natalie said. “Please.”

  “Thought you might,” Evie said, and patted her lap.

  Natalie lay down, and Evie started stroking her face, then pressing gently on Natalie’s temples. Natalie closed her eyes. She sometimes got slight tension headaches after being at work all day. A week ago, Evie had suggested they try this, and it seemed to work. Natalie wasn’t sure exactly what Evie was doing, other than pressing gently on her forehead, but felt good, and the headaches went away, and she was glad Evie wanted to.

  She lay there, feeling Evie’s hands, and thinking it probably meant something, that they here, at home, but rubbing each other’s faces and feet rather than having sex. Whatever it meant, she liked it.

  She must have smiled, because Evie said, “What?”

  “Nothing,” Natalie said.

  Evie rubbed for a while, pressing in tiny circles, and then her hands suddenly stopped. She leaned forward, bending over Natalie. Natalie felt her move, and felt breath on her face. She expected a kiss, and didn’t open her eyes. A kiss, because Evie had leaned closer.

  Instead, Evie spoke. “You have grey roots,” she said, and then, a second later, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just got a surprise.”

  Natalie opened her eyes. Evie was looking down a
t her, apparently worried. “I’m sorry,” Evie said again. “Sometimes I just don’t think…”

  “It’s fine,” Natalie said. “The grey is there.”

  “I never noticed before.”

  “Good,” Natalie said. “I have it coloured. Usually. Although apparently I shouldn’t have rescheduled my appointment last week.”

  “You can hardly tell,” Evie said. “Really. I only did because I was looking from so close.”

  Natalie shrugged.

  Evie’s hands were still moving, rubbing gently, but she was also biting her lip. She seemed a little worried, Natalie thought. “Really don’t worry,” Natalie said. “It’s grey. It’s there. I mean, unless you’re horrified, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course I’m not horrified.”

  “You might be.”

  “Well I’m not. I just shouldn’t say things like that without thinking.”

  “Saying things is fine. It’s better than second-guessing yourself all the time.”

  “I suppose,” Evie said. “I’m still sorry, though. I didn’t think.”

  Natalie shrugged.

  “I am,” Evie said. “And close your eyes.”

  Natalie did, and Evie kept rubbing. Evie was quieter than usual, probably still thinking.

  “You don’t mind my age do you?” she said, after a moment.

  Natalie opened her eyes. “Why would I mind?”

  “I don’t know. I might be immature. I might be boring. I haven’t done as much as other people you know.”

  “Done as much what?”

  “Been places. Seen stuff.” Evie smiled slightly. “Won important cases and become a precedent.”

  “You’ll do things. There’s no hurry.”

  “Yeah,” Evie said. “It’s just odd, though, when you think about it. That you’re been around twice as long as me, and done all these extra things.”

  “I haven’t done that much.”

  “You kind of have.”

  “Not really,” Natalie said. “And especially not the going places part. I’ve mostly just sat in offices an awful lot, if I’m being honest.”

  “Still…”

  “I mean it,” Natalie said. “If we’re somehow trying to add up all the time we’ve had to do exciting things, then it’s only the time away from work that counts. And then the time we’ve both had is probably about the same.”

  “Um, not really…”

  “Don’t be too sure. It’s terrible, but it might be.”

  “Well, if you only count the time I’ve actually been out of bed, then mine is back to half of yours.”

  Natalie grinned.

  “It just seems like we’re complicated,” Evie said. “That me being with you is always going to be complicated. Because of stuff like that.”

  Natalie shrugged.

  “Does it matter?” Evie said.

  “Not really.”

  “There’s a lot of stuff.”

  “Which we’ll work out,” Natalie said, then wondered if there was something particular. “Like what stuff? Other than not going places.”

  “People are always going to notice us. Any time we go outside.”

  Natalie nodded. She thought she understood why Evie had picked that. A waitress had been staring a little too much over dinner. Natalie had noticed, but hadn’t realized Evie had too. “People we can ignore,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Evie said. “Well then, I’m complicated. I’m a lot of effort.”

  “You honestly aren’t,” Natalie said.

  Evie shrugged. She didn’t seem sure.

  “You aren’t,” Natalie said. “I promise.”

  Evie didn’t answer.

  “We both worry too much,” Natalie said. “We should stop.”

  “I know.”

  “So do.”

  “I have,” Evie said. “I am.” She sat a moment longer, rubbing Natalie’s forehead. “Anyway,” she said. “I suppose I’ll get old too, soon enough. So if we just wait a bit, that particular problem will go away on its own.”

  “I suppose,” Natalie said. She wanted to argue about the old part, but she knew what Evie meant.

  “Which I suppose means age doesn’t really matter very much.”

  “I don’t think it does,” Natalie said. “I never have. Not if you don’t mind.”

  “Mind what?”

  “Well, me. Mine. My age.”

  “Why would I mind?”

  “Wrinkles. Grey hair.”

  “Hair that you colour,” Evie said.

  “Well, yes.”

  “I hadn’t noticed anything else,” Evie said, then seemed to think. She bent over, and peered at Natalie’s face. At the sides of her eyes. “Shit,” she said. “Have you had…?”

  “God no,” Natalie said, slightly offended. “Evie. Of course not.”

  “I just thought… I hadn’t noticed…” Evie seemed flustered. She stopped. “Yep, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that either.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I shouldn’t have.”

  Natalie hesitated. “I’m not that old.”

  “How old is that old?” Evie said. She obviously didn’t know, and thinking about it, Natalie didn’t either. If she’d wanted work done, she probably would have had it by now, but she didn’t, so she had no real idea.

  “Not that old,” Natalie said. “Thank you very much.”

  Evie bent and kissed her. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

  Natalie kissed back for a moment, then decided she’d like to stop. It was late, and they could talk about this forever, and she suspected it might be better not to. She sat up, and kissed Evie once more, then said, “Come to bed?”

  Evie nodded, and watched Natalie stand up, and then followed her into the bedroom.

  19: Evie

  It was Friday and lunchtime and Evie had only just woken up. She was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a cup of coffee, waiting while it cooled. She was trying to remember what she needed to have done by the beginning of next week. She hadn’t had a cigarette yet, because she had only just sat down, and couldn’t be bothered getting up again to go over to the extractor fan to smoke. She sat at the table, mostly half-asleep, wondering how long she should wait before she tried sipping the coffee.

  She sat, and waited, and someone knocked on the apartment’s front door.

  That had never happened before.

  Evie went and looked through the peephole. She had bare feet, and could walk over quietly, and she was trying to be careful, too, because she didn’t know who was there. She thought it must be someone from inside the building, since the outside doorbell hadn’t buzzed, but she didn’t know how well Natalie got on with her neighbours, and whether to actually answer the door.

  She peered through the peephole, cautiously, intending to look and then sneak away. She peered, and saw Meredith.

  She didn’t know what to do.

  It was Meredith. Evie knew her right away. She recognised her from the wedding photos. Meredith was at the front door.

  Evie felt oddly panicky. She’d never been in this situation before. Not people having exes as long-term as Meredith had been, and not meeting those exes, either. Not face to face, so they had to talk. Not unexpectedly, like this.

  Meredith was at the door, and Evie had just woken up, and she was having trouble deciding what to do.

  She wasn’t going to make a good impression. That upset her, for some reason. She was still wearing the comfortable old shorts and tee shirt she slept in if she wasn’t sleeping naked. She was dirty and her hair was greasy and she hadn’t showered yet, and Meredith, even distorted by the peephole, was perfect. Meredith looked like what she was, a successful important woman in the middle of a successful important day at work. Her hair was perfect and her makeup was perfect and her two thousand dollar suit and five hundred dollar shoes were perfect too. Her bag, which Evie couldn’t even recognise enough to guess the price of, was magnificently perfect. Everything about Meredith was a
bsolutely fucking perfect, and for a moment Evie couldn’t think.

  She stared out through the peephole, silently, hoping Meredith would just go away. She stared out through the peephole with her lank hair and her morning breath and the cigarette burn she knew was visible on the hem of her shirt. She probably had scratchy legs. She probably had crusty eyes. She probably actually smelled, because they’d had sex last night, and Evie knew she’d got sweaty, and then flopped into bed and hadn’t moved for hours, and some of those hours had been this morning, with the sun shining in the windows and baking her.

  Evie felt awful. She had to look awful. She felt nervous and uncertain and like she’d been caught doing something wrong. Which was silly, but she felt like that anyway.

  She felt intimidated. That was what it was. She felt like she couldn’t possibly hope to be what Meredith was. Whatever Meredith actually was, successful or rich or something, Evie couldn’t be that. She didn’t know why Meredith was at the door, but she had an awful, self-centred feeling it was personal, that she was there for Evie, to warn her off, or tell her off, or something. Evie didn’t know what.

  She stood there for a moment, silent, watching, hoping Meredith would just go away.

  Meredith didn’t go away. She knocked again, then looked in her bag, and took out a set of keys. Evie watched through the peephole. Meredith was obviously about to come inside, and Evie started to panic. She didn’t know what to do.

  She didn’t know what to do, so she opened the door. Because it was best to confront your fears, or something.

  Evie opened the door, and Meredith jumped. Meredith said, “Shit,” and then looked at the number on the door, as if checking she was in the right place.

  “Hi?” Evie said.

  Meredith just stood there. She seemed to be thinking, so Evie waited. She waited, and looked at Meredith, but kept her hand on the door, holding it half-open, so she could close again it if she needed to.