Starting from Square Two Read online

  “I’ll be there,” Gert said.

  “If the reading goes too late,” Hallie said, “we’ll talk on the weekend. We’ll have to compare notes after your date with Todd anyway.”

  “You’ll be out with Bugs Bunny Boy, right?”

  “Ugh,” Hallie said. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Well,” Gert said, “I think you should really give him a chance. You might be surprised.”

  There. Gert could be helpful, too. Despite her paltry dating experience.

  “I will,” Hallie said. “And thanks.”

  Gert had joined a gym a month ago, and already she was sure that the guy who worked there had it in for her.

  She’d be sitting on the bike, pedaling furiously, listening to music, and he would come over and say something to her really low. She’d take off her headphones, and he’d say, “I just wanted to make sure your seat’s comfortable.”

  He never did that to anyone else. At least, it didn’t seem like it.

  “It’s fine,” she’d say.

  Then she’d be running on the treadmill, and he’d come over and say, “Are you sure those are good shoes for you? They don’t look like running shoes.”

  Gert didn’t want to talk to anyone while she was working out. Working out was personal. It was like someone talking to you while you were on the toilet. Which an annoying girl named Dawn at work always did. Dawn would come into the rest room, and if she saw someone’s feet under a stall, she’d say, “Who’s in theaahh?”

  “My shoes are fine,” Gert told the guy at the gym.

  It was Hallie who had first suggested joining a gym. Hallie had told Gert it was a great way to work out aggression. Gert didn’t really believe that that was Hallie’s main motivation for going to the gym, though—Hallie went, like everyone else, because she thought it made her more attractive. No sense lying about it. When Gert had been married, neither she nor Marc had joined a gym. They both had had better things to do.

  But now Gert had free time, and she was sinking into the realm of the rest of the world—the world that worried too much about how it looked.

  The more Gert thought about her new place in this universe, the more aggression she had to get out. Which made the gym perfect.

  Now, as she engaged in the monotony of the StairMaster, the annoying gym guy was on her back again. “Do you want to know how to do that better?” he asked her.

  “I know how to climb stairs,” she said evenly.

  The man was clueless-looking, with tight, curly hair and oversize glasses. He was in his forties. He didn’t look built, but he was lean, and she figured he’d studied about training more than he’d actually done it.

  “Okay, ma’am,” he said simply, and walked away.

  Gert felt bad. It wasn’t his fault that he was a pest. He was only trying to help. But really, she wished he would leave her alone. She didn’t want to be at the gym. She wanted to be at home talking to Marc. Or just listening to him breathe.

  The reading was packed that night. It was on the second floor of a chain bookstore in Chelsea. That floor was so crowded that a store employee stood at the foot of the stairs, refusing to let anyone else up. He was wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard. Above him, on the balcony, a similarly attired employee was handling crowd control, his buttocks pressed back into the green metal bars that prevented people from falling.

  Gert had agreed to meet the girls after her workout. Erika was dolled up in heavy makeup and a skirt. So were most of the women there. Everyone had seen Roddy Brown’s handsome jacket photo. It wasn’t only the photo that had lured them. The text beneath it said, “Roddy Brown lives in Manhattan with his dog, Rufus. He eats Frosted Flakes for dinner.” Single male writer + New York + lives with dog = personal ad.

  “But I know Roddy,” Erika told the guard. “We went to high school together.”

  “He knows you’re coming?”

  “He’ll be surprised. I haven’t seen him in forever.”

  “Well, he’ll come this way when he’s finished,” the guard said. “You can see him then.”

  A girl in a pink jacket pushed forward. “I’ll be out of your hair in one second,” she told the guard, “but can you please give him this?”

  It was the girl’s business card, and she’d written on it, “Roddy—Love the book! Call me.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Erika said to Gert and Hallie. “He’s not worth this kind of trouble.”

  At Kafé Krunch, the girls sat in the back room in a dark corner on a pair of orange couches, waving marshmallows over a flaming Sterno can. They had bought the “s’more-gasbord” from the counter, and in order to make it worth the eleven dollar price, they had snuck in their own extra ingredients from the Food Emporium—an extra Hershey bar, marshmallows, graham crackers—and planned to stay an hour.

  Hallie stared into the flame, which was the only bright thing in the back room. She poked a half-melted Hershey bar into the fire and drew it out.

  “Who needs men when you can have chocolate?” Hallie said.

  “Yeah, right,” Erika said, bringing her knees to her chin. She sucked at the singed husk of a marshmallow. The small flame made her face glow, but it also made it look a little contorted.

  Gert relaxed on the soft couch. She enjoyed the quiet back rooms of New York dessert cafés. They were definitely better than bars. There were comfy chairs, enough darkness for anonymity, and plenty of slackers trying to figure out what to do later. She stared at the ceiling. There was a pencil sticking out of it. She didn’t know if it was a prank or decoration.

  Erika was facing Gert and Hallie. Her makeup was on perfect, but it hadn’t helped her get to her target, Roddy.

  “Why do I do it?” she asked, putting her face in her hands. “Why did all 700 women at the event have the same exact idea I had? Why aren’t there any decent men left who don’t have a fan club a mile wide?”

  Hallie shook her head, poking a piece of Hershey bar into the flame. “I know,” she said.

  “In high school, hardly anyone talked to Roddy Brown,” Erika said, her face glowing orange and yellow. “He was a geek. I bet he never kissed a girl until he was twenty-one.”

  “You should have gone for him then,” Hallie said.

  “Who you tellin’?” Erika said. “I thought he’d be happy to see me tonight. But any remotely normal guy in this city ends up with a line of girls waiting to meet him that’s longer than the one for Space Mountain. They were leaving him their business cards. And I was almost just as bad.”

  “I’ll bet if I self-published a book, there wouldn’t be a crowd of guys at a reading waiting for me,” Hallie said.

  “Damn straight,” Erika said. “We need to fix the criteria. How can we make guys pursue women for their literary aspirations, and women only pick men after the men spend three hours on their appearance?”

  “I know what to do,” Hallie said. “We’ll pay half the single women here to move to Alaska. Then the rest of us might start being treated with respect.”

  “I know who I’d pay to go to Alaska,” Erika said. “Challa.”

  Next topic, Gert thought. Erika’s obsession with Challa was really worrying her.

  “Check this out,” Erika said, becoming visibly excited. “I’ve been writing messages to her as Vicki Vale. Challa’s too stupid to recognize the reference. Ben loves Batman. I can just see Challa running into their bedroom, wailing, ‘Ben, this bitch Vicki Vale keeps leaving messages on my Web site!’”

  Hallie laughed a little, and steamed skim milk issued from her mouth.

  “Ben’s so creative,” Erika said. “I know him. I can’t imagine he’s truly happy with their dull life. Sooner or later he’s going to get tired of it, and I have to know what the right time is so that I can be there. Otherwise I’ll miss out.”

  Gert thought that maybe she could subtly help Erika. She still saw some good in her. “Do you have any contact with Ben?” she asked.

  Erika’s eyebrows narrowed
a bit. She looked straight at Gert for the first time that night. Behind her, at the far end of the room, a group of guys was coming in wearing baseball caps. There were too many overgrown frat boys in town. Gert couldn’t imagine dating one of them. Marc actually had been in a fraternity, but at least he didn’t act like he was still in one after graduation.

  “I find a reason to e-mail him every few months,” Erika said, “just so he knows I still exist. I’m actually due to send another one. There’s an exhibit coming to the Whitney that I know he’d like, so I was thinking of e-mailing him about that.”

  Gert felt bad for Erika as she listened to her talk about Ben. Erika always became more animated when she talked about him.

  “A few months ago,” Erika said, “I bumped into one of his friends, this guy Don, so I e-mailed Ben to tell him. Ben usually writes back after a few days, but he keeps it short and emotionless. It’s like a new rejection every time. Last time he was like, ‘Hi. That’s great you saw Don. I hope you have a great new year.’ The end. There’s never any hint that we spent five years together.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to seem like he’s leading you on,” Gert said.

  Erika’s face tightened. “Why does he have to worry about ‘seeming’?” she asked. “We shared five years. It’s almost as if Challa’s looking over his shoulder and might leave him if she caught him showing any emotion toward me. Can’t he at least miss me a little bit?”

  Gert didn’t know what to say.

  “Hey,” Erika said, becoming excited again. She looked at Gert and Hallie. “You guys both have dates on Saturday. Gert has Todd and…”

  “I have Bugs Bunny Boy,” Hallie said. “You can go on the date if you want.”

  Gert thought of Todd and felt a bit nervous.

  Erika looked at Hallie. “Look on the bright side,” she said. “At least Bugs Bunny Boy isn’t half as bad as that guy you went out with who spent your whole first date talking about why there shouldn’t be a Black History Month unless there’s a White History Month.”

  Hallie laughed. “True,” she said. “But Bugs Bunny Boy is neck and neck with the British guy who I really liked and slept with and then he told me that he was moving back to Britain in two weeks.”

  Erika shook her head.

  “And at least Bugs Bunny Boy isn’t as bad,” Hallie added, “as the guy who, the minute he met me for dinner, pointed at the tiny white spot on my blouse and said, ‘Oh, you got some deodorant on there.’”

  “Yeah,” Erika said, “and Bugs Bunny Boy is definitely not as bad as the guy who was annoyed that you had a cough, so every time you coughed, he coughed, because he wanted to show you how irritating it was.”

  Gert wondered if they were making all these guys up, or if dating was really this bad.

  Suddenly all three heads swung to the left. One of the frat boys, tall and good-looking, was standing next to Hallie.

  “Any of you girls have a light?” he asked in an unplaceable accent. His friends were behind him, waiting for him.

  Gert looked up. She kept matches in her purse because Marc had always told her to. It seemed a little silly, now that she thought about it. She held out the pack.

  “I guess that’ll do, right?” the guy said, smiling.

  He looked like he was about to leave, but Erika called out, “So, what’s your name?”

  The guy seemed startled for a second. “Rick,” he said. He had five-o’clock shadow. It was attractive.

  “I’m Erika,” Erika said, reaching over the couch to shake his hand. But he shifted a little, still seeming like he wanted to go. Erika continued, “That’s Gert, and that’s Hallie.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He shook their hands, but then turned to walk away.

  “So,” Erika called out. “Where are you from?”

  He turned around again, but kept walking backward. “New Jehhh-sey,” he said. Then he took off with his friends.

  Erika looked deflated. All the guy had really wanted was a light. Erika’s whole body seemed to sink in her seat. Gert felt sorry for her.

  “I need chocolate,” Erika said. “And give me another graham.”

  “None left,” Hallie said.

  Erika dug into her pocketbook for eleven dollars.

  Chapter

  5

  “So,” Gert said, laughing during dinner, “the guy with the clipboard wouldn’t even let us up the stairs.”

  She and Todd were on their second date, at a restaurant in Little Italy. Gert had never actually been in Little Italy before, although she’d certainly heard good things. She was sure that if she stayed in New York for another eight years, she still wouldn’t get to all the neighborhoods. Two months ago, in fact, she had visited Columbia University for a focus group on women who had lost a spouse, and she was amazed at what she saw when she wandered a few blocks north to 122nd and Broadway: To her left, a verdant park that held Grant’s Tomb, and ahead of her, the part of the subway where it exploded up into an elevated line bedizened with lights. On both sides were Gothic buildings and grassy fields and backpacking students, and it looked completely different than only fifteen blocks earlier. Tonight, she’d felt the same way when she’d started following Todd’s directions to Little Italy. She’d begun to doubt them, because up until the last block, she’d been surrounded by the stores and unintelligible signs of Chinatown. Then she’d turned a corner and been thrust into a wonderland of bright lights, iron balconies, roaring laughter and rich tomato smells.

  Todd smiled while Gert talked about her friends. He was a great listener. Better than anyone she’d met in a while. It was refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t know anything about her, who didn’t pass judgment or cut her off. He seemed genuinely interested.

  She thought about how Marc used to tell her about his day. She’d always listened to his adventures in pursuing clients. He was the consummate salesman. She loved watching him relish the chase.

  “I know Hallie and Erika are your friends,” Todd said, “but it seems like there’s a tension between you.”

  Gert found it interesting that she’d been on only two dates with him and he’d already picked up on that. “I have more friends, but they’re in other parts of the country,” she said apologetically. “I probably should make more of an effort to understand Hallie and Erika. It’s just that they get so crazy about everything, especially dating. They analyze every aspect of it to death. And they get jealous of people in good relationships, too.”

  Todd was wearing a soft sweater. Gert figured he’d gotten it as a gift once from a girl. Most of the men she knew tended to prefer button-down shirts that were comfortable and easy to clean.

  “You seem more easygoing than they are,” Todd said.

  “Yeah, well,” Gert said. She knew guys liked that about her, but she suddenly felt modest. “I don’t want to bore you all night with my sad, sad stories of my sad, sad friends.”

  “I don’t mind,” he said, arranging his fork and knife. “Talk about whatever you want.”

  The waiter came with their waters. They passed on drinks and said they needed a few more minutes to look at the menu.

  Gert remembered that Hallie had told her to make sure she didn’t just talk about herself on a date. “So,” she said to Todd, “what’s new with you since we last met?”

  Hallie was right, Gert could tell. Todd leaned back. “Let’s see,” he said. “Since I last had the very distinct pleasure of being in your company—” Gert couldn’t help but smile “—I got one raise, one invitation to a friend’s wedding and one rent increase.”

  “That’s great!” Gert said. “I mean, about the raise. Not the rent increase.” She raised her empty wineglass. “To the raise.”

  Todd clinked it with his empty glass. “To the raise.”

  Gert put her glass down and said, “You must be doing a good job, if they gave you a raise.”

  “Nah.” Todd shrugged. “It’s mandatory after a certain point. It’s not a big deal.”

&nbs
p; “But they still wouldn’t give it to you if you weren’t doing a good job, right?”

  “Right,” Todd said.

  “So I’m sure you deserved it,” Gert said.

  “Thanks.” He looked bashful. She liked that he could be bashful. That, and the tiny scar on the bridge of his nose.

  “I guess the raise will all go to counteract the rent increase, though,” Gert said.

  “Not all of it,” Todd said. “Some of it will go to counteract my friend’s wedding present.”

  “Who’s your friend?”

  “Howie Wald,” Todd said. “We went to sleep-away camp together the summer before sixth grade.”

  The mention of a wedding reminded Gert about Michael’s wedding. There was so much about her that Todd didn’t know. Couldn’t know yet. It seemed nearly insurmountable. But it was something she’d have to deal with. She’d have to explain her past to every new person she met…eventually.

  Gert tried to remember what Todd had just been talking about. Oh—sleep-away camp. “That’s cute that you still talk to your elementary school friends,” she said.

  Todd looked a little embarrassed again—probably because she had called him cute—which was, well, cute.

  “You still talk to one of your elementary school friends,” Todd said.

  “Yeah,” Gert said. “But not so much, anymore. Since she got married and had kids.”

  Todd shook his head. “Married people,” he said. “You have to give up on them. They get married and disappear down their gopher holes.”

  “I wouldn’t disappear,” she said, careful not to give anything away.

  Todd smiled. “You know what?” he said. “I believe you wouldn’t.”

  She felt undeserving of the faith. She had actually disappeared somewhat.

  “I can’t blame them, though,” Todd added. “If you have a wife and kids to take care of, the last thing you want to be doing is hanging out with your pals, drinking beer and quoting Caddyshack.” He looked at her. “Tell me something great that happened to you this week.”