Why I Love Singlehood: (30 page)

I refused her hand and gave her a skeptical look, wondering if she was ignoring the obvious tension between her and Jay, in denial, or merely trying to prove a point.

“I mean a long-term couple,” I said. “Twenty years in. Did you know that my parents almost didn’t make it that long? And that’s the reason my mother had given me. She said when the romance died, so did the marriage. And I thought, ‘How freakin’ stupid.’ She didn’t even know my father well enough when she married him to determine whether he’d be a good friend. It took her getting sick for them to fall in love with each other all over again and to figure out who they really were. That’s why I look for my best friend above all else. Like you and Jay.”

Minerva studied me intently.

“Wow,” she said, her tone serious. “That explains a lot.”

“Explains what?”

“I just never thought of it that way.”

“How did you think of it?” I asked. “I thought he had a kick-ass poem. And I thought he was attractive.”

“Well geez, Min, that that clears it all up.”

Minerva looked at her watch. “Break’s over.”

Frustrated, I went back behind the counter, unable to dispel the deadweight that seemed to have taken root in my stomach sometime during our conversation. About an hour later, before she left, Minerva came out of the reading room and behind the counter.

“By the way, Kenny says hi.”

My heart lurched into my throat. He’d gone back into hiding since the party, and it took all my resolve not to ask Min for his number and call him myself.

“When did you talk to him?” I asked. It came out more like an interrogation than a question.

“He called me,” she replied.

“You two have gotten very cozy lately.”

“He’s a friend.”

“He’d be mine, too, if he started coming back to the shop. What, did he find a Starbucks that he likes better?”

She shuddered. “Eiw. No. He’s just really busy. He’s starting a new business.”

“Well, when he wants to tell me about it, he can come in and tell me about it,” I said, not even trying to hide my disappointment this time.

Minerva shot me a sly look. “Admit it. You like him. Just own up and go do something about it.”

My mouth dropped open. Before I could even draw a breath, Scott came in and approached us, and I found myself glad that he didn’t want to kiss me hello.

“How’s it goin’?” he asked after Minerva left. I shrugged in response.

“Tired,” I said, disappointed by my own predictability. “As usual.”

I filled his order and brought it to his table.

“Hey, why don’t we go out to dinner tonight after I get done here and take my shower,” I suggested. “We haven’t done that in a long time.”

“It’s Thursday, Eva. Must-See-TV night? New episodes of
The Office
and
30 Rock
.”

“So? We’ll TiVo them. Come on, I’ll get dressed up and everything. I’ll even wear those red stilettos you love so much,” I wheedled and coaxed. He picked up his head from his laptop and looked at me to consider this.

“Wear them during
30 Rock
and things could get really interesting.”

I became annoyed. “Scott, I’m asking you to go out with me tonight. I don’t ask for much. When was the last time we did anything that didn’t have commercial interruptions or a rewind button? When was the last time we went out on an actual date?”

Come to think of it, had we
ever
been on an actual date?

He got visibly annoyed as well. “You know, you’re not the only one who works hard. Just because I work from home and get to sit most of the day doesn’t mean I don’t get tired. Honestly, Eva, you have no idea what kind of work I do, or how it makes my head hurt sometimes. Sometimes I don’t wanna do anything that requires more thinking than ‘pass the salt.’ Sometimes I’m shot, too.”

I faltered for a moment; he’d always been so laid back it never occurred to me that his work was stressful.

Ashamed of my oversight, I tried again. “I’m not asking you to rewrite the Constitution; I’m asking you to
dinner
.”

“Tomorrow, OK? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Yeah,” I got up from the table and started to walk away, deflated. “Sure.”

That night, as Scott and I sat on the couch watching
The Office
, I tried not to think about all that Minerva had said. What did she really mean by
that explains a lot
? I leaned against Scott, my hair still damp, and closed my eyes. Then I opened them and looked at him for a second and it hit me:
This isn’t going to work. Ever.

28

Coming Apart

FOR THE SECOND
day in a row, I kept my eyes peeled on the front doors, hoping Kenny would amble in and up to the counter like he used to. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when, while filling a customer’s order, I caught a glimpse of a black henley shirt out of the corner of my eye and thought it was him (and sank even deeper in my chest upon realizing it was someone else).

Also for the second day in a row, my body dragged in lethargy, and I chalked it up to the post-party crash, my adrenaline reserves spent, not to mention the revelation I’d had the night before that my days with Scott were numbered. Sitting in the back office during my lunch break, I poked at my salad and checked my phone for messages. Hardly anyone other than Scott or Olivia ever called me, mainly because just about everyone I knew was a Grounds customer, but the ritual was a way to kill time in the dingy little office when I was too tired to read or too busy to hang out with the Originals. To my surprise, my phone signaled that a voice mail awaited me, and I studied it with curiosity as I proceeded to play the message. Ed Rush, sounding stoic and serious, asked me to call him. At first I thought that perhaps he’d found someone else to cover for Jenna’s short story class next semester, someone within the department, and didn’t need me after all, but his voice sounded too urgent for that.

I dialed the English department number—I still had it memorized—and Ed’s secretary picked up on the second ring before connecting me to him.

“Hello, Eva,” he said, the tone of his voice matching the one in the phone message.

“Hi, Ed,” I replied. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got a little emergency here. As of yesterday, Jenna Jaffe was ordered to go on immediate bed rest. Apparently there’s something wrong.”

I took in a breath. “Is she OK? Is the baby?”

“Both she and the baby will be just fine if she follows the doctor’s orders to a tee.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“So what can I do to help?” I asked.

“I need you to fill in for Jenna for the remainder of the semester, if you can.”

Before I could raise an objection or even get a word in, Ed steamrolled on. “We’re in a real crunch with budget cuts and salary reductions here. Most of the faculty are already overloaded with course schedules and classroom enrollment caps. I know you’ve already spoken to Jenna regarding next semester’s agenda, which isn’t too different from this one. Please, Eva, it would really help us out. She’s already cancelled this week’s class, and there’s only four weeks left of the semester, two after Thanksgiving break. And of course we’ll compensate you for it.”

Money was the last thing I was thinking of. Since deciding to host Thanksgiving for the first time here in Wilmington and proposing it to Olivia, all I could think about was trying to prepare the house for company, cook food, and entertain my guests. And that was without considering how busy The Grounds got during the holidays, when students would camp out and cram for finals or finish writing term papers as a change of venue from the library or their dorm rooms. Besides, ever since the makeover and the party, the reading room was filled to capacity. Still, I was torn—I didn’t want to leave Jenna or Ed in a lurch.

“Ed, it’s not that I don’t want to help you out. I just…I need to work it out with my manager. It’s a busy time of year for us, and I don’t want to throw him to the wolves.”

He sighed in frustration, and I understood all too well that it had little to do with what I’d just said and everything to do with the sum-total weight of responsibilities that he juggled on a daily basis as the department chairperson. This was only the latest fire he had to put out, one in a line of fires.

“I understand,” he said, “and I wouldn’t pressure you if we weren’t in such a jam. But I really need an answer ASAP,” he said, pronouncing it “ay-sap.”

“Can you give me an hour or two?” I asked.

“Sure. That would be great.”

“OK, then I’ll speak to you in an hour. Do you know if Jenna is taking any calls?”

“As far as I know, yes.”

Despite his answer, I had the nagging feeling that she shouldn’t be disturbed. As I ended the phone call with Ed, I returned the Tupperware lid to my salad and pushed it away, my appetite replaced by a to-do list twirling in my gut like a tornado.

I exited the office and returned to the café to find it nearly empty, the lunch rush subsided, save Neil (who lately had been staying well past his twenty minutes) and Jan on her lunch break in festive Snoopy and Woodstock scrubs. Minerva had also arrived and was wiping down tables, while Norman was leaning against the back counter, taking a breather.

“Hey, Norman, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure.”

I went to one of the tables and sat down, where Norman joined me, a look of concern on his face.

“So I just spoke to Ed Rush on the phone, and it turns out that Jenna Jaffe has a problem with the pregnancy and needs immediate bed rest.”

Just as the words “bed rest” left my mouth, I heard a quiet gasp behind me, and I didn’t have to turn my head to know it came from Minerva.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do they know?”

“He didn’t say.”

“
Placenta previa
,” I heard Minerva utter under her breath, barely loud enough for me or anyone else to hear.

I turned around in my seat. “What did you say?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” I waved a hand, dismissing her concern. “It’s most likely placenta previa,” said Minerva. “It’s when part of the placenta detaches from the uterine wall.”

Norman’s face went pale as she continued.

“It’s usually minor, but he means it when he says she needs
immediate
bed rest. If she puts any stress on her body, the tear can get bigger, she can lose blood, basically succumb to internal bleeding, and the baby could suffocate.”

“Oh
God,
Min,” I said in horror.

“Really, she’ll be fine as long as she stays in bed and is as immobile as possible, getting up just to use the bathroom and shower. She’ll even carry to term and the baby will come out just fine, but they’ll likely have to do a C-section.”

“I think I need a glass of water,” said Norman.

I went behind the counter and soaked a clean dishtowel under the sink, wrung it out, and folded it in a long rectangular shape, applying it to Norman’s forehead.

“Wow, Norman,” said Minerva. “I had no idea you were so squeamish. What are you going to do when your wife gets pregnant?”

“Geez, Minerva, I gotta crawl before I can walk, ya know? Let’s just see if Jeannie and I make it past the three-date mark.”

“Anyway,” I said, glad at least that Norman’s color was returning, “I need to fill in for her for the remainder of this semester, and I wanted to make sure it was OK with you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be OK?”

“It’s a lot of work, Norman, and it’s the holiday season. You know how it gets around here.”

“Look,” Minerva said, taking a seat, “I’ll fill in the missing hours, if that’s your biggest concern. Eva, you can’t not do this.”

“She’s right,” said Norman. “It’s only for a few weeks. We can pick up the slack. You’ve put in fifty- and sixty-hour weeks here long enough. It’s time for me to take one for the team. Really, I want to help out.”

I kissed him on the cheek, and felt the cold, damp towel stick to my hair as I did so.

“You’re too much, Norman, you know that?” I said.

“Maybe you can get Jenna to name the baby after me.”

“It’s a girl,” I said.

He paused to consider this. “Bailey is a nice girl’s name.”

I smiled in agreement. “So, Drop Dead Gorgeous Jeannie with the Jimmy Choos…”

“Lordy, that’s a mouthful.”

“Three dates?”

“Third one’s tonight.”

“Looking good?”

He held up his hands to reveal crossed fingers.

“I hope it works out, Norman. You deserve happiness.”

“Yeah, singlehood really isn’t my thing. Not that there’s anything wrong with it…”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” I patted him on the shoulder and went back to the office to call Ed back. He thanked me profusely, apologizing for the last-minute ambush and offering me Jenna’s office on campus for course preparation and any other administrative tasks I’d need to handle.

“Jenna will be very relieved,” said Ed. “It’ll be one less thing for her to worry about. I’m confident I’m speaking for her as well when I say the course is in good hands.”