—From
The Thirty Commandments
by Jill and Jodi Spingold
“How is your chicken teriyaki?” I ask Ben over dinner at Hachi’s Kitchen.
“Excellent,” he replies. “Wanna bite?”
“No thanks. I’m getting full, and I haven’t even finished all my sashimi yet.” I’ve been sort of avoiding him since New Year’s, and, strangely, he hasn’t been complaining. But it is nice to see him.
“So what do you guys think you’re going to do about Mallory’s threats?”
“There’s still some debate,” I admit. “All the girls at the office agree with Jill that we should stand firm, not do anything, and let Mallory do her worst. But Krista, our agent, is concerned about how it could affect the television deal, which is already shaky, and our PR firm has been very up front about the fact that we are ripe for a massive negative PR campaign.”
We’ve run this company for nearly five years without any terribly serious backlash. There is some validity to the idea that the media could smell potential weakness in the two of us personally and in the company in general. It was one thing when it was just general snipes from the conservatives and the Christian Right, attacking our values. But the latest stuff is evenly split between our usual detractors and some disheartened former fans, and that is dangerous. And while everyone is in agreement that any accusations or implications would be baseless, and ultimately we would be exonerated, it’s difficult to respond to such an attack and not look defensive. Considering the planned expansion for the company, the new merchandising deals, and the television contract, which could open up a whole new area of business for us, they are recommending at this point that we strongly consider some sort of financial settlement with Brant. Ultimately, it will be Jill’s and my decision, but we have a lot of people who are counting on us and need this company to retain its success. If we go down, it isn’t just the two of us that are affected. There are nine women full-time in our offices who are counting on our sustaining the viability of this company, not to mention literally hundreds of others in a less direct way. It becomes very difficult to consider taking a stance out of our own pride and self-righteousness that could ultimately destroy not only what we worked so hard to build but also put at serious risk the livelihoods of the people who have helped us get where we are.
“How much money are your people talking?” he asks, forehead wrinkling.
“Ultimately, we’re not sure. It will require our lawyers broaching the idea of a settlement with Mallory and Brant and seeing if we can get them to name a figure that we can respond to.” Which is, in itself, a delicate thing. I have no idea if Brant even knows that Mallory has threatened us. And I’ve been advised not to have any conversation with him until the matter is settled, so I can’t even talk to him to determine if he has a hand in this or if he’s in the dark. If he doesn’t know, and suddenly our lawyers call him, he could end the whole thing and break it off with her, giving her even more reason to go after us. The problem is that there’s no turning back if we broach a settlement. We have to move forward with negotiating that settlement, because if Mallory takes to the press that we came to them, attempting to hush them up with money, and then in any way reneged, it will make us look worse in the long run. It’s a fucking mess.
Ben reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Jodi. I’m so very sorry. I know that this is a horrible time for you, and I wish there was something I could do to make it easier.”
I steel myself for what I’m about to say. Ben has unknowingly given me the perfect opening for the speech I have been practicing all afternoon.
“Actually, there is something you can do, but I’m hesitant to ask you, because I don’t think it will make you happy.”
Ben takes another bite of his chicken. “You want to stop seeing me,” he says quietly.
“It’s not that simple,” I say. “I like you very much, and I love hanging out with you. You’re smart and funny and kind. You always have interesting ideas, you’re a good listener, and I think we’ve had a great time together. But the fact is, you and I both know that this relationship, however much fun, isn’t going to last forever. You and I want different things for our futures. I have a tremendous amount on my plate right now. Jill’s wedding is only seven weeks away. The business is always crazy, and now we have the additional stress of our current predicament. I’m feeling pulled in too many directions, and I also feel that it would be very selfish of me to continue with you.”
Ben smiles a huge grin, which is not exactly the response that I was waiting for. “Actually, Jodi, I couldn’t be more relieved. See, the thing is, remember that girl? My friend from high school that I spent New Year’s with? Well, we’ve been hanging out kind of a lot, because she really doesn’t have too many friends here anymore, and well, a couple of weeks ago we were at my place, watching a movie, and, I don’t know, she said something, and I laughed, and she punched me in the arm, and we made eye contact, and it suddenly just hit us both that there was something more going on between us. The truth of the matter is that I had a huge crush on her when we were in high school and never had the nerve to confess. And she finally admitted that she had a crush on me, too, even though she was dating somebody else at the time. And, well, the thing is, I was actually going to tell you tonight that I think we should stop seeing each other. Because I really like this girl. And I really want to offer myself to her without any other encumbrances. So I guess we were both on the same page, and we just didn’t know it! Kind of funny when you think about it. So, anyway, you shouldn’t worry, because we’re totally in sync and no hard feelings. I’ve had a great time hanging out with you, and I hope that we will honestly stay friends.”
I shake off my surprise. “I hope so, too, Ben. And I’m really happy for you and your girl. What a fantastic and romantic way to find somebody to be with. How cool it is that you have made this reconnection! I hope that you guys are just as happy as anything.”
“Thanks, Jodi, that means a lot to me.”
“Well, I think this calls for more sake.” I wave over our waiter and order us a surprisingly celebratory round.
We finish our dinner, with only slightly stilted conversation, after which he walks me home. Promises to call soon, but not too soon, with a wink. Gives me a big hug, unlocks his bike from my front porch, and rides off into the sunset.
For what was supposed to be an uncomfortable conversation, that went surprisingly well. Considering how many potentially uncomfortable conversations are imminent, I hope it isn’t downhill from here.
“Hey, Boss Lady, can I talk to you for a minute?”
I wave Paige in, and she shuts the door behind her.
“What’s up?” I ask her.
“Um, I sort of wanted to talk to you without the other boss lady here, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. Jill’s off with Hunter, tasting menu options at the caterer. She won’t be back for ages. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s this whole thing with Brant and Mallory. I wanted to say that I’m starting to maybe reconsider my original thoughts about fighting the good fight. But I wanted to talk it through with you before telling Jill.”
“She does get a little Norma Rae now and again. What have you been thinking?”
“Well, I wonder if it might not be better to offer them a version of the profit sharing you offer us. That way, the company wouldn’t have to take a hit in terms of cash outlay, and in any year when the company doesn’t post a profit, they get nothing. It could even be a limited time structure. Kind of like alimony, five years of one percent profit sharing or something like that. I mean, it’s just such a weird time, and there’s the whole television thing, and I hate that I feel like I’m backing down from my principles, but I also have to think of the bottom line and the health of the company. I did some research over the weekend, and there are at least ten companies our size that went under after a public scandal in the last couple of years.”
“What sort of scandals were they?”
Paige pauses. Then blushes. “Okay, they were mostly embezzling, drug, or sex scandals. But those are just the ones who had to close up shop. I mean, there have got to be others who have survived but taken a big hit.”
“I know. It’s obviously on my mind as well. So you are changing your vote to payoff, huh?”
“I guess I’m changing my vote to let’s further explore the possibilities of a payoff that doesn’t kill us.”
“Duly noted. You know, you’re going to have to have this discussion with Jill.” I smile at her.
“I know. I think I just wanted to test it out on you first.”
“You did a good job. Just explain it to her the same way you explained it to me, she’ll listen, and we’ll both take it under consideration.”
Paige smiles, obviously relieved. “Okay, I’ll tell her when she gets back. Thanks, Jodi.”
“My pleasure. Thank you for caring that much about the company.”
“What’s on your docket this afternoon?” Paige asks, stealing a handful of M&M’s out of the bowl on my desk. I can’t get through the day without my dosage of vitamin M; I order them in custom colors to match the office.
“I’m going to pick up the prototypes for the lunch kits out in the burbs, and then hopefully get back in traffic in time to meet Jill for her dress fitting at six.”
“Well, I’ll speak with her while you’re gone, and then the two of you can talk about me later.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Okay, I’m going back to work. Thanks again, Jodi.”
“No, thank you.”
“No, thank
you
!”
“Oy, get out of my office, you goose!”
Paige closes the door behind her. I wonder how many others are having private little doubts about this situation. Jill’s passion is extraordinary and infectious but also difficult to argue with. I think I’d better take the temperature of the rest of the staff before having any more discussion with her about this issue. I get up from my desk and head out into the office to do a little reconnaissance.
I tear ass into the bridal salon twenty minutes late, having slogged through an hour and ten minutes of rush-hour traffic. “Did I miss it?” I ask the aunts, who are sitting on a settee, sipping champagne.
“Catch your breath, sweetheart, you haven’t missed a thing,” Aunt Shirley says.
“Here, drink this.” Aunt Ruth hands me a flute, and I swig half of it in one gulp. This makes me burp a little.
“Such a delicate flower,” Aunt Ruth says.
“Hey, is Jodi here yet?” Jill’s muffled voice wafts out of the dressing room.
“I’m here,” I call out to her.
“Okay, here I come!” The door opens, and Jill steps out. My eyes well up with tears. Aunt Ruth begins to cough. Aunt Shirley puts her handkerchief up to her eyes. My little sister is wearing the single most hideous wedding dress I have ever seen. It is a yellowish shade of ivory, shiny satin with huge puffy sleeves, a sweetheart neckline trimmed in iridescent beads, a princess waist, and eighteen miles of skirt. She is beaming at us.
“It’s quite a dress, darling,” Aunt Shirley says.
“It’s really something,” I mumble.
“It’s the ghastliest thing I have ever laid my eyes on,” Aunt Ruth says. “Take it off at once, young lady. Have you entirely taken leave of your senses?”
“Ruthie!” Aunt Shirley scolds. “Really, behave yourself! She didn’t mean it, honey, she’s just trying to be funny.”
“No I’m not. That dress is a disaster,” Ruth says.
“
Ruth!
I mean it, stop that this minute!”
I look over at Jill, who has her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking. I walk over and put an arm around her. “It’s okay, Jillybean, it’ll all be okay.” Jill looks up at me, which is when I realize that she hadn’t been crying at all, but rather, was laughing hysterically.
“I. Cannot.
Believe
. You. Thought. I’d. Buy. This. Dress,” she stammers between giggles.
“Well, I’ll be,” Aunt Shirley says, plopping back down on the couch.
“You evil thing!” I say, beginning to laugh.
“You little bitch,” Ruth says. “That is no way to treat the women who love you.”
The four of us collapse in relieved mirth, and finally, Jill disappears to get into her real dress. When the door opens again, our three reactions are nearly identical as before, but this time for the right reasons. Jill is stunning. A vision in champagne silk. A simple scoop-neck bodice with wide straps, fitted to show off her amazing collarbone and tiny waist. The skirt is tea length, with just enough petticoats to give it some shape. A ribbon belt. The silhouette is almost a 1950s feel, and she’s wearing an ephemeral fingertip veil so gossamer sheer that it is practically invisible, and a pair of kitten-heeled pumps.
“It’s perfect,” Aunt Shirley says, dabbing tears.
“You’re stunning,” I say, grinning like an idiot.
“Well, that’s more like it,” Aunt Ruth says.
The tailor swoops in, making tiny adjustments here, little pinches there. The dress is going to fit her like a glove. After she gingerly gets back out of the dress so as not to disturb the pins and markings, she comes back into the waiting room.
“And now, your turn, ladies!” The salon owner wheels out a rack, which has three hanging bags on it. “Who is first?”
“What’s this?” Aunt Ruth asks.
“A surprise,” Jill says. “I wanted you all to have the perfect outfits. Tell me if I did okay.”
The salon owner hands each of us a parcel and directs us to dressing rooms. I unzip the bag and see the most perfect shade of green that God ever invented. Not quite a sage, not quite a mint, not quite an olive. The color of a shady meadow in Wales or something. Fairy green. I pull out the dress, a flowy satin with enough weight to give it substance. The top has sort of a crisscross effect with a V-neck, short sleeves, and a similar skirt to Jill’s but with an overlay of chiffon, giving the skirt a dreamlike quality. I put it on, and it fits like a glove, the green making my eyes really pop and my fair skin look porcelain, just the right amount of cleavage and totally camouflaging my ass and tummy. It’s perfect. I walk out into the main room. Jill is grinning like the Cheshire cat.