Authors: Eileen Cook
“You break a leg, Colin!” she called out.
“You keep an ear out,” he replied.
“I always listen to your show,” she gushed. He stopped in the lobby and gave her a big smile.
“You always listen to
my
show? Why, did you hear that, Erin? She listens to
my
show. How about that.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Fine, it’s your show. Do you want to monogram the thing?”
The receptionist stared at the two of us as if she had burst in on us naked. She seemed like she wanted to apologize for being there and at the same time wanted to pull up a chair, grab some popcorn, and watch the show. Colin opened his mouth to say something and then turned and stormed out.
“Are you guys breaking up?” the receptionist whispered.
“A girl can dream.” I followed him out. He was already in the car. The driver was standing there holding the door for me. I slid in next to Colin who was looking out the other window.
“Maybe we should just drop it,” I said, offering an olive branch. Never let it be said that I didn’t behave professionally. I didn’t point out that if I really was as insecure as he seemed to think I was, I wouldn’t be able to drop it.
“Maybe we should.”
We didn’t say anything for a while. The car snaked slowly through traffic. We could have gotten out and walked there faster. On the other hand, this was the first time the station had ever provided me with a car and driver so I wasn’t going to start complaining. I watched the people on the street and wondered if they were wondering who was in the car.
“Diana’s mom reported her missing,” I said in an effort to change the subject.
“You partner kid?” Colin turned to face me. “Are you worried?”
“She’s been staying with me.”
“Did you think to tell her mom so that she wouldn’t be reported missing? You realize of course that the police are most likely looking for her?”
“I wasn’t intending to hide her. It isn’t like my place is a part of the witness protection agency or something. I didn’t know that her mom had reported her missing until this morning.”
“Didn’t you think her mom would be worried?”
“You don’t know her mom. She has real issues. I was more worried about Diana.”
“Never let it be said that you bothered to worry about other people’s families.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I refuse to believe you are so naive you don’t know what I’m talking about. If I was going to hazard a guess I would say you turn to denial when you don’t like an answer.”
“Excuse me?” I could hear my voice getting louder.
“Where do you want me to start? How about with the whole ‘I’m so jaded I don’t care that my married lover hasn’t left his wife. I don’t believe in the fairy tales,’” Colin said in a faux high-pitched voice.
“Do not make fun of me.”
“Then don’t make it so easy. Do you have any idea how trite and cliché the whole thing is? The thing is you do care. You care so much you can hardly stand it. You are a walking fucking tribute to Grimm’s fairy tales. You’ve convinced yourself that this troubled kid really does have a direct channel to Princess Diana, sent down here to be your own personal fairy godmother.”
“I do not.” My face flushed hot.
“The hell you don’t. The thing is I can’t figure out what the hell you see in him. You say he’s nice, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that he’s a real jackass. You know you aren’t his first, right? He did mention that, didn’t he? His last girlfriend was the receptionist for the sales department. He has a habit of using the station as his own personal trolling grounds. I guess even he knows dating someone at Wolfson might be too much. They had to let the receptionist go when she became a bit too clingy. You might want to keep that in mind.”
“That’s a lie.”
“No, you wish it was a lie. There is a difference between what we want to be reality and what is reality. I should know. I had my own wishes for a while there.”
The car stopped. We were at the front of the school. The driver opened the door and Colin slid out first without saying another word to me.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” I yelled out of the car window. I scrambled to unbuckle and get out of the car. My shoe fell off and I picked it up with one hand. “NASA called, they wanted to alert you to the fact that you aren’t the fucking center of the universe,” I said, hurling the shoe at Colin’s back as I stepped out of the car. A flash went off, blinding me for a second.
“Miss Callighan?” A man stepped to my side. “I’m James Immell, director of the culinary institute.” He shuffled back and forth for a moment, wiping his huge hands on his slacks. “We were so excited about the live feed today from the school, we invited members of the press.” I looked over and there were three or four reporters standing there watching me. Great, my first tantrum caught by the paparazzi. The photographer gave me a wide smile. I suspect I made his day. I am going to be the Paris Hilton of the radio set, minus the money and the ability to fit into clothing designed for a twelve-year-old.
“Why, that is just super! Colin and I are thrilled to be here.” I looked around for Colin to prove the point of just how super we really were.
“Mr. Stewart went inside already.” The director twisted his hands together as if he were wringing out a towel. The reporters just watched us, one of them mumbling into a handheld recorder.
“Okay then. We should get set up.” I clapped my hands together like a nursery school teacher trying to herd toddlers toward naptime.
“Did you want this?”
James held out my size-six heel like a reluctant Prince Charming.
“Why, yes I do, Mr. Immell.” I placed one hand on his shoulder for balance and slipped the shoe on. The show must go on.
Birthdays at our house were always over the top celebrations. Day to day, my dad might be focused on work, but when it came to special occasions, wild horses couldn’t tear him away. He was in charge of entertainment. Unwilling to settle for a rent-a-clown with their tired and worn shtick of balloon animal creations, my dad found magicians who would gleefully saw an assistant in half and pull quarters from our ears. There was one year with ponies and another with gymnasts. He rented a trampoline one year and for each of our sweet sixteen birthdays, a giant white tent had been brought in with a wood floor laid for dancing.
My mother was in charge of the baking. We were not the kind of family that settled for bakery cake. Instead my mom would select a recipe, different each year, and make an elaborate creation. Pear upside down cake, lemon curd filling in a vanilla cake, German chocolate cake with toasted coconut in the frosting, or spiced pumpkin cake with cream cheese frosting. It was years before I understood that cakes could be made from a box mix.
When I grew up I would help my mom with my sisters’ cakes. I made each of their wedding cakes. I am no slouch in the cake department, but I never made anything that rivaled the cakes the kids in the culinary school were turning out. These cakes were works of art. Colin’s cake was a nightmare,
of course. It could have been subtitled “When Frosting Turns Evil.”
We didn’t have to speak to each other much during the taping, which was a relief. Colin worked with his poor student volunteer turning out the Frankencake while I sat with the school director and a few other judges. We didn’t take any calls, just recorded the show to air later. Colin didn’t say a word to me when taping ended, he didn’t even wait for the car to take us back to the station. He just left. I felt sick, a result of either the fight with Colin or the enormous volume of cake I had consumed. There is such a thing as too much sugar. Who knew?
I debated going back to work myself, but decided I earned a sick day and asked the driver to take me back home. I slipped into the apartment and called Diana’s name, but she wasn’t there. Rooster came tearing around the corner, his nails sliding across the floor doing the dog dance of joy. Or the really-need-to-go-out dance. It wasn’t clear. I wasn’t taking any chances. I slipped a leash on him and we left for a long walk. Rooster needed the exercise and I need the time to think.
I came back and pulled on my gym pants and a sweat shirt. I debated trying to think of someone else I could ask but I couldn’t think of anyone. I broke down and called Avita.
“Where are you?” she asked, her voice lowering as if we were World War II secret agents.
“I came home. I left a message for the receptionist. I don’t feel well.”
“I called your house and no one answered.”
“I was taking the dog for a walk.”
“You have a dog?”
“It is kind of a long story. I have a question to ask you.”
“I have a few questions for you too, this place is going ballistic, the newspaper is running a story about a brawl you and Colin had at the culinary school. They called looking for verification that the two of you broke up.”
“It wasn’t a brawl.”
“They say you threw a shoe at him.”
“Okay, that part is true, but come on, I wear small shoes. It isn’t like I tossed a hiking boot at his head.”
“Wayne is in a lather. The syndication group makes their decision in a few days and if they think you two can’t get along, Wayne is afraid they’ll vote against the show.”
“Has Wayne forgotten the small fact that the two of us were never dating to start with?” I blew out through my lips trying to recapture the quiet Zen sense of purpose I had during my walk. “Look, I called to ask you something else. Did Jonathon ever date anyone else at the station?”
“Who told you that?” she asked after a too-long silence.
“Are you kidding me? Do you think it matters who told me? Did he or didn’t he?”
“Is this what you and Colin were fighting about? He told you, didn’t he?”
“Who cares about my fight with Colin? So it’s true? You didn’t think that was important enough to mention to me?”
“I didn’t know for certain. No one did. It was a rumor. I did tell you that you shouldn’t trust him, but you got mad at me.”
“There is a world of difference between telling me that you don’t think I should trust him and telling me that he used to date someone else at the office.” I took another deep breath and rubbed my temples. “Did she really get fired?”
“I don’t think they technically fired her. I think it was more of one of those things were she was invited to leave.”
“And that is different from being fired how?”
“I think she got a payout.”
“Super.”
“What I heard is that the problem came up when she started to call his house and his wife got pissed and said she had to go.”
“His wife knew?!”
“Apparently.” Avita gave a sigh. “Honestly, wives aren’t as stupid as you seem to think they are.”
“Can we please not go back to the argument where you stick up for married women everywhere?”
“Fine, as long as you don’t go back to the argument that Jonathon really is different from every other married guy who cheats.”
We were both silent for a few beats which passed for a truce. I opened my mouth to ask Avita another question, but then I heard the click of the door.