himself into so early in the morning.
“Oh, I just got here, Dr. Sachs,” Alex said gamely. “I rearranged my tutoring because I
thought you two could use another pair of hands.”
“Great. That’s great—I’m sure it’ll be a big help. Here, help yourself to bagels. Alex,
I’m sorry to say that we didn’t get three coffees since we didn’t know you’d be here.” My
dad looked genuinely upset, which was touching. I knew he still had trouble with his
youngest daughter having a boyfriend, but he did his best not to show it.
“No worries, Dr. S. I brought some stuff, too, so it looks like there’s plenty.” And
somehow, my dad and my boyfriend sat down on the futon together—without a trace of
awkwardness—and shared an early-morning breakfast.
I sampled salt bagels from each of their bags and thought about how much fun it would
be to live with Lily again. We’d been out of college for nearly a year now. We’d tried to
talk at least once a day, but it still felt like we hardly ever saw each other. Now, we would
come home to each other and bitch about our respective hellish days—just like old times.
Alex and my dad prattled on about sports (basketball, I think) while my mom and I
labeled the boxes in my room. Sadly, there wasn’t much: just a few boxes of bed linens
and pillows, another of photo albums and assorted desk supplies (even though I lacked a
desk), some makeup and toiletries, and a whole bunch of garment bags filled with un-
Runway-esque clothes. Hardly enough to warrant labels; I guess it was the assistant in me
kicking in.
“Let’s get moving,” my dad called from the living room.
“Shhh! You’ll wake Kendra,” I loudly whispered back. “It is only nine in the morning on
a Saturday, you know.”
Alex was shaking his head. “Didn’t you see her leave with Shanti before? At least, I
think that was her. There were definitely two of them, and they were both wearing suits
and looking unhappy. Check their bedroom.”
The door to the room they managed to share by bunking their beds was ajar, and I
pushed it open slightly. Both beds were made meticulously, pillows fluffed and matching
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stuffed Gund dogs propped up on each. I didn’t realize until then that I’d never so much
as stepped foot in their room—in the few months I’d lived with these girls, we hadn’t had
a conversation of longer than thirty seconds—I didn’t know exactly what they did, where
they went, or if they had any friends besides each other. I was glad to be leaving.
Alex and my dad had cleaned up the leftover food and were trying to map out a game
plan. “You’re right, they’re both gone. I don’t even think they know I’m leaving today.”
“Maybe leave them a note?” my mom suggested. “Maybe on your Scrabble board.” I’d
inherited my father’s addiction to Scrabble, and he had a theory that each new home
required a new board so I was leaving the old one behind.
I took the last five minutes in the apartment to make the tiles read, “Thanks for
everything and good luck XO Andy.” Fifty-nine points. Not bad.
It took an hour to pack both of the cars up, with me not doing much more than propping
open the door to the street and guarding the vehicles while they went back upstairs. The
bed movers—who were charging more than the actual cost of the damn thing—were
running late, so my dad and Alex each started downtown. Lily had found our new
apartment through an ad in theVillage Voice, and I hadn’t even seen it yet. She’d called
me at work from her cell phone in the middle of the day, screaming, “I found it! I found
it! It’s perfect! There’s a bathroom with running water, a wooden floor that only has
minimal warping, and I’ve been here four full minutes and haven’t seen a single mouse or
even a roach. Can you come see it immediately?”
“Are you high right now?” I whispered. “She’shere, which means I’m not going
anywhere.”
“You have to comenow . You know what it’s like. I have my folder and everything.”
“Lily, be reasonable. I couldn’t leave the office right now for an emergency heart
transplant if I needed one, without getting fired. How can I come look at an apartment?”
“Well, it’s not going to be here in thirty more seconds. There are at least twenty-five
other people at this open house, and they’re all filling out applications. I need to do
thisnow .”
In the obscene world of Manhattan real estate, semilivable apartments were rarer—and
more desirable—than seminormal straight guys. When you added semiaffordable into the
mix, they became harder to rent than your private island somewhere off the southern
coast of Africa. Or probably harder. No matter that most boasted fewer than three
hundred square feet of dirt and rotted wood, pockmarked walls, and prehistoric
appliances. No roaches? No mice? This one was a keeper!
“Lily, I trust you, just do it. Can you e-mail me a description?” I was trying to get off the
phone as quickly as possible since Miranda was due back from the art department any
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second. If she saw me on a personal call, I was finished.
“Well, I have copies of your paychecks—which, by the way, really suck . . . and I’ve got
both our bank statements and printouts of our credit histories and your employment letter.
The only problem is our guarantor. It has to be a tristate resident who makes more than
forty times our monthly rent, and my grandmother sure as hell doesn’t make a hundred
grand. Can your parents sign for us?”
“Jesus, Lil, I don’t know. I haven’t asked them, and I can’t very well call them right
now. You call.”
“Fine. They do make enough, don’t they?”
I wasn’t really sure, but who else could we ask? “Just call them,” I told her. “Explain
about Miranda. Tell them I’m sorry for not calling myself.”
“Will do,” she said. “But let me make sure we can get the place. I’ll call you back,” she
said and clicked off the phone. The phone rang again twenty seconds later, and I saw her
cell phone number on the office phone caller ID. Emily raised her eyes in that special
way she did when she heard me once again talking to a friend. I grabbed the phone but
spoke to Emily.
“It’s important,” I hissed in her direction. “My best friend is trying to rent me an
apartment over the phone because I can’t leave here for a goddamn—”
Three voices attacked me at once. Emily’s was measured and calm and carried with it a
warning tone. “Andrea, please,” she’d started, at the exact same time that Lily was
shrieking, “They’ll do it, Andy, they’ll do it! Are you listening to me?” But even though
both of them were clearly addressing me, I couldn’t really hear either one of them. The
only voice that came through loud and clear was Miranda’s.
“Do we have a problem here, Ahn-dre-ah?” Shocker—she got my name right this time.
She was hovering over me, appearing ready to strike.
I immediately hung up on Lily, hoping she’d understand, and braced myself for the
onslaught. “No, Miranda, no problem at all.”
“Good. Now, I’d like a sundae and I’d like to actually eat it before the entire thing melts.
Vanilla ice cream—not yogurt, mind you, not ice milk, and nothing sugar-free or low-
fat—with chocolate syrup and real whipped cream. Not canned, you understand?
Genuine whipped cream. That’s all.” She walked purposefully back toward the art
department, and I was left with the distinct impression that she’d come in just to check on
me. Emily smirked. The phone rang. Lily again. Dammit—couldn’t she just e-mail me? I
picked it up and pressed it to my ear but said nothing.
“OK, I know you can’t talk, so I will. Your parents will be our guarantors, which is
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great. The apartment is a big one-bedroom, and once we put the wall up in the living
room, there will still be room for a two-person couchand a chair. The bathroom doesn’t
have a bath, but the shower looks OK. No dishwasher, natch, and no AC, but we can get
window units. Laundry in the basement, part-time doorman, one block from the six train.
And get this. A balcony!”
I must’ve breathed audibly, because she got even more excited at my excitement. “I
know! Crazy, right? It looks like it might fall right off the side of the building, but it’s
there! And we could both fit on it and have a place to smoke, and oh, it’s just perfect!”
“How much?” I croaked, determined that these would be the absolute last words I’d
utter.
“All ours for the grand total of twenty-two eighty a month. Do you believe that we’ll get
a balcony for eleven hundred forty dollars apiece? This place is the find of the century.
So, can I do it?”
I was silent. I wanted to talk, but Miranda was inching her way back to her office as she
upbraided the public events coordinator in front of everyone. She was in a wicked mood,
and I’d already had enough for one day. The girl she was currently abusing had her head
hung in shame, cheeks bright red, and I prayed for her own sake that she wouldn’t cry.
“Andy! This is fucking ridiculous. Just say yes or no! It’s bad enough that I have to cut
class today and you can’t so much as leave work to come look at this place, but you can’t
even bother to say yes or no? What am I—” Lily had reached her breaking point and I
totally understood, but there was nothing I could do except hang up on her. She was
screaming so loud into the phone that it was reverberating in the quiet office, and
Miranda was standing less than five feet away. I was so frustrated, I wanted to grab the
PR coordinator and hit the ladies’ room and cry with her. Or maybe if we worked
together we could throw Miranda into a toilet stall and tighten that Hermès scarf that
hung loosely around her skinny neck. Would I hold her down or pull? Or perhaps it’d be
more effective to just shove the damn thing down her throat and watch her gasp for air
and—
“Ahn-dre-ah!” Her voice was clipped, steely. “What did I ask you for a mere five
minutes ago?” Shit! The sundae. I’d forgotten the sundae. “Is there a particular reason
why you’re still sitting there instead of doing your job? Is this your idea of a joke? Did I
do or say something to indicate that I wasn’t entirely serious? Did I? Did I?” Her blue
eyes were bulging out of her face, and although she hadn’t fully raised her voice yet, of
course, she was coming awfully close. I opened my mouth to speak but heard Emily
talking instead.
“Miranda, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I asked Andrea to answer the phone because I
thought it might be Caroline or Cassidy and I was on the other line ordering that shirt
from Prada you wanted. Andrea was just on her way out. I’m sorry, and it won’t happen
again.”
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Miracle of miracles! The Perfect One had spoken, and in my defense, no less.
Miranda looked momentarily mollified. “Well, all right then. Get my sundae now,
Andrea.” And with that, she walked in her office and picked up the phone, where she
promptly started cooing to B-DAD.
I looked at Emily, but she was pretending to work. I shot her a one-word e-mail.Why? I
wrote.
Because I wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t going to fire you, and I don’t really feel like
training someone new,she wrote back instantly. I left to go in search of this perfect
sundae and called Lily from my cell phone as soon as the elevator hit the lobby.
“I’m sorry, I really am. It’s just that—”
“Look, I don’t really have time for this,” Lily said flatly. “I think you’re overreacting
just a little bit, don’t you? I mean, you can’t so much as say yes or no on the phone?”
“It’s hard to explain, Lil, it’s just that—”
“Forget it. I’ve got to run. I’ll call you if we get it. Not that you really care either way.”
I tried to protest, but she’d hung up. Dammit! It wasn’t fair to expect Lily to understand
when I would’ve thought I was ridiculous a mere four months earlier. It really wasn’t fair
to send her all over Manhattan in search of an apartment we could both share when I
wouldn’t even take her phone calls, but what choice did I have?
When she answered one of my calls right after midnight, she told me we got the
apartment.
“That’s amazing, Lil. I can’t thank you enough. I swear I’ll make it up to you. I
promise!” And then I had a thought. Be spontaneous! Call an Elias car and get up to
Harlem and thank your best friend in person. Yes, that was it! “Lil, are you home? I’m
coming up to celebrate, OK?”
I thought she’d be thrilled, but she was quiet. “Don’t bother,” she said quietly. “I’ve got
a bottle of So-Co and Tongue Ring Boy is here. I’ve got everything I want.”
It stung, but I understood. Lily rarely got mad, but when she did, no one could talk her
out of it until she was good and ready. I heard liquid swishing into a glass and ice
clinking, and I heard her take a deep, long swig.
“OK. But call me if you need anything, OK?”
“Why? So you can sit in silence on the other end? No thanks.”
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“Lil—”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine.” Another gulp. “I’ll talk to you later. And hey,
congratulations to us.”
“Yeah, congratulations to us,” I repeated, but she’d already hung up once again.
I’d called Alex on his cell to ask if I could go over to his place, but he didn’t sound as
delighted to hear from me as I’d hoped.
“Andy, you know I’d love to see you, but, well, I’m out with Max and the guys. You’re
never really around during the week anymore, so I made plans to see them tonight.”
“Oh, well, are you guys in Brooklyn or around here somewhere? I could come meet
you?” I asked, knowing that of course they were somewhere on the Upper East Side,
probably very close to me, because that’s where all the other guys lived as well.
“Listen, any other night that’d be great, but tonight is definitely just a guys’ night.”
“Oh, sure, OK. I was going to meet Lily to celebrate the new apartment, but we, uh, sort
of got in a fight. She doesn’t understand why I can’t really talk from work.”
“Well, Andy, I have to say, sometimes I don’t totally understand, either. I mean, I know
she’s a tough lady—trust me, I do—it just seems that you take everything pretty seriously
