Read A State of Jane Online

Authors: Meredith Schorr

A State of Jane (2 page)

C
HAPTER
2

The next night, I was having drinks at The Brass Monkey with my best friend Marissa and her older sister Katherine. It was an Indian summer and we sat on the rooftop sipping Pear Cider and enjoying a view of the West Side Highway and the Hudson River. There was a chill in the air and I reached behind my chair and grabbed my pink and green Lilly Pullitzer cardigan and wrapped it around my shoulders. Gesturing towards Marissa, I asked, “So, how are things going with that guy Eric?” She had met him on
Match.com
.

Marissa took a sip of her drink. “I don't know. He's really nice but totally clueless.”

“In what way?” I asked.

Snorting, Katherine said, “Do you have all night?”

I ignored Katherine. She'd been a know-it-all ever since she got married the year before, and I never forgave her for making Marissa wear a beige maid of honor dress. With Marissa's pale complexion, she looked naked. And besides, beige was only flattering on girls who wore a size four or less. Marissa was not one of those girls.
Neither am I.

I nodded toward Marissa. “Details please.”

Marissa gave an embarrassed smile. “I guess his first offense was taking me to Smiler's Deli on our first date. It was approaching closing time but we managed to snag some grilled vegetables and
stale California rolls before they cleared out the salad bar. Second, and more ridiculous, was telling me on our second date that he was in therapy because his ex-wife left him. Too much information
way
too soon.” Marissa shook her head as if bewildered by it all.

“Are you communicating with anyone else?” The whole internet dating phenomenon fascinated me since I hadn't been on a date with anyone except Bob since the summer of 1999.

“Yeah, but still at the email stage. Eric already asked me out for a third date.”

“Did you let him down easy?” I asked.

“She said yes!” Katherine said matter-of-factly. “He's nice, not ugly, and he asked. She has to give it another chance! Pickings are slim.”

How would she know?
“Do you like him though? You shouldn't force yourself to go out with him if you don't. Remember all that time you wasted on Aidan?”

Aidan was the male version of Marissa. They had the same opinion on everything except the right way to kiss, and after three dates unsuccessfully trying to teach him and two dates of unsuccessfully avoiding mouth-to-mouth contact, Marissa finally cut him loose.

“He's really nice, but I just don't know if I could ever be attracted to him. But I'm trying.”

It pained me to watch Marissa practice this ritual time and time again, believing she could create chemistry if she
tried
harder. She'd been my best friend since college and I wanted her to meet her soul mate almost as much as I wanted to meet my own. “Why are you trying? You shouldn't have to try to be attracted to someone. You either are or you're not.”

“Or you close your eyes and pretend he's Bradley Cooper,” Katherine said, laughing.

I shook my head in disgust and took a sip of my drink, thankful it was diluted with ice. I wanted to squeeze in an hour of studying for the LSAT before bed. “You can't settle. New York City is full of eligible bachelors. As I motioned to the waitress for our bill, I said, “Onward and upward.”

Looking at me like I was a special needs child, Katherine raised her chin toward the air and said, “Yes. Manhattan is full of eligible bachelors. Eligible bachelors who are looking to get laid, unemployed, not interested, or gay!”

Marissa frowned and nodded her head in agreement. “Jane will see soon enough. She's ready to start dating again!”

“Really? One piece of advice. Try to refrain from telling every guy who hits on you all about how you and Bob ‘lost the spark’ and how important it is to find ‘the spark.’ Ranting about your ex-boyfriend is not the best way to get a new one.”

While Katherine's face distorted into an obnoxious laugh, I glared at Marissa. She mouthed, “Sorry” and quickly looked away.

“I did that once and I wasn't even interested in the guy,” I muttered. And how kind of my big-mouthed best friend to share it with her bigger-mouthed older sister. “Besides, the spark
is
important!”

Katherine drowned the rest of her cider and placed her empty glass on the table. “Well, best of luck finding the spark, Jane. I can't wait to hear about your dating disasters. Marissa's are getting old.”

Katherine was so cynical I wondered how she ever managed to get married. Then I remembered what her husband looked like and smiled to myself. Placing my hand over Marissa's, I said, “You will meet the right guy someday. Don't waste time on the wrong ones! Remember when I told you that Christopher would say yes if you asked him to the formal senior year?”

Marissa nodded somberly. “Yeah.”

“I was right then and I'm right now!”

“What about you?” Marissa asked. “Have you spoken to anyone yet?”

I handed my credit card to the waitress. “These drinks are on me, ladies. I'm feeling generous tonight!”

“Thanks, Jane! What's the occasion?” Katherine asked.

Tucking a strand of dirty blonde hair behind my ears, I said, “Love is in the air. I feel it! I'm gonna check my eHarmony matches as soon as I get home. Maybe the love of my life is waiting in my inbox.”

Katherine looked at me doubtfully. “Your optimism is inspiring.”

Half laughing, Marissa said, “With Jane's luck, the ‘one’ will be the first guy she goes out with and she'll be married before I get past the fifth date with someone.”

“I hope so.” I paused and looked at Marissa. “Not the part about you and the fifth date of course! But just in case eHarmony doesn't
pan out I've also joined a group on Meetup for singles in their twenties through thirties, and I'm smiling at every cute boy I pass on the street. I just want to be settled in a committed relationship by the time I start law school next year, when I'll be too busy studying to meet anyone.”

Katherine stood up and flung her bag across her shoulder. “I hate to drink and run but I told Martin I'd be home twenty minutes ago.” Looking at me, she said, “Thanks again for the drink. Best of luck finding ‘the spark.’”

We waved goodbye and I said to Marissa, “Alone at last.”

Marissa frowned.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I didn't mean that as an insult to Katherine. I just haven't spoken to you in a while.” Marissa and Katherine were also less than two years apart in age, but you'd think they were twins from the way Marissa told Katherine everything.

Marissa shook her shoulder length layers of dark brown hair. “This has nothing to do with Katherine. I'm just afraid your expectations with this dating thing are too high. It's not easy.”

“You sound like Claire!”

“Maybe Claire knows what she's talking about!”

I waved my hand in protest. “I appreciate your concern, but I know what I'm doing.” Anxious to change the subject since Marissa's cautious attitude toward dating wasn't exactly confidence inspiring, I said, “How's work by the way? Any samples you can spare?” Marissa worked in the corporate department of a cosmetics company. Along with a twenty-five percent discount off of the wholesale price of products, they were always passing along free samples.

Marissa's face brightened as she reached into her bag. “Yes! I completely forgot. Here,” she said, handing me an assortment of sample sized perfumes. “I'm not sure if any of them are good but you can have them all.”

I happily threw them into my pocketbook. “Thank you! I'm almost out of my Michael Kors.”

Smiling, Marissa said, “What are friends for?”

Later that night, I excitedly sat at my computer desk and logged onto eHarmony. I had twenty-three new matches and wondered if my future husband was among them. The first eligible bachelor was Peter. He was 5′5″. Since I was 5′6″, I clicked “not interested.” The second match was Nate. He was cute with short brown hair, dark skin and broad shoulders. And at 5′11″, he was the perfect height for me. He was a financial consultant so he could probably meet my intellectual standards and since he loved home cooked meals and I was a master in the kitchen, we were probably a perfect match. I confirmed my interest and moved onto the next – Brett. Brett posed shirtless with a harem of women in every picture. I figured he didn't need another girlfriend and clicked “not interested.”

I finished reviewing the remaining twenty matches, confirming interest in four of them and climbed into bed.

I closed my eyes and imagined where Nate would take me on our first date.
Hopefully not Smiler's Deli.
Later, I dreamed about swim-up bars and sex on the beach with Nate on our honeymoon. The dreams were interrupted only once when I woke up in a panic remembering I had forgotten to study for the LSAT. I made a mental vow to spend an extra hour the following night and fell back against the pillow, anxious to return to my dream.

C
HAPTER
3

“My routine follow up regarding the status of your hair,” I said into the phone a few days later. When Bob and I broke up, we promised to keep in touch. He told me he'd forget to get his hair cut without me to remind him and so I vowed to call him periodically. Not too often, since I actually preferred when his thick locks got a little unruly and cartoonish, but often enough so he wouldn't look like a bum.

Chuckling, Bob said, “I've got it under control. Got it cut a couple weeks ago. Running my hand through it now and it didn't get stuck.”

“That's a good sign! So what's new?” I got ready to feign interest in the newest addition to his video game collection.

“Actually, there's something I want to tell you.”

“OK.”

“This is weird.”

“What could be too weird to tell me? You told me once that you fantasized about a three-way with me and Judy Jetson.
That
was weird!”

“She's hot, Jane. No apologies for that one. But this is something else.”

I felt my insides tighten. “What? Just tell me.” For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing but then he said it.

“I'm seeing someone, Jane.”

I sat down on the edge of my bed and took a deep breath. Bob was dating someone? I'd estimated his recovery time at least six months longer than mine since he was on the receiving end of the break-up. He was supposed to still be grieving
our
relationship! “That's great, Bob! I've started dating again too.”
Technically
. And I was sure whatever he had going on was casual.

Clearing his throat, Bob said, “Actually, it got serious kind of fast.”

I lay back on the bed, held the phone away from my ear for a moment and swallowed hard. I brought the phone back to my ear and said, “Oh? Has she met Arlene yet?” Bob was the ultimate mama's boy. Arlene had to be on board with any girl he got serious with.

“Yeah. Mom loves her.”

“Really? I mean cool. That's great, Bob.”

“There's more.”

What? Did she and Mr. Krauss bond on a fishing trip or something?
“OK?”

“We're moving in together. She has a one bedroom in the West Village so I'm giving up my studio when the lease expires in a couple of months.”

Words continued to escape Bob's lips, but I stopped listening. I couldn't believe he was moving on faster than me. If I'd waited only six months instead of a year, this wouldn't have happened. “Great, Bob. I'm happy for you. Can't wait to meet her.”

“Awesome! We're gonna have a party after I move in. You'll meet Trish then. You'll like her.”

Trish? I went to high school with a girl named Trish. Hated her.

No need to panic, Jane. The party was at least a month away. I'd totally have a boyfriend by then. Maybe even Nate. Everything would be fine. So I hadn't given much thought to Bob moving on but it had to happen someday, right? The timing could have been better, like after I was already settled, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world. It wasn't like I wanted to be with Bob and I certainly didn't want him to be alone for the rest of his life. It just proved what I'd said to Claire earlier, that I was ready. It was time. Time for Bob to move on and time for me to move on.

After I hung up the phone, I immediately logged onto eHarmony. Nate and I had completed all of the steps and were now given access to “open communication,” which I learned meant that we could email each other directly. I had discovered during the various stages of, I'd guess you'd call it “closed communication,” that among Nate's must-haves were compassion, fidelity and honesty. Among his must NOT-haves were laziness, intolerance and insensitivity. He seemed perfect and I just knew there would be an email from him waiting for me.

I scrolled the list of active matches, past Andrew, Todd, and Christian, to the thumbnail picture of Nate leaning against the side of a sail boat. But his picture wasn't there. I figured in my haste I had scrolled too fast, so I went back to the top of the page and gave it another scan but Nate's profile was still not there. Thinking there might be a separate section on the site for open-communication matches, I carefully scrutinized the page, but I didn't see any other sections aside from closed matches.

I got up and brought my dirty coffee cup to the kitchen. Lainie was sitting at our kitchen table. She was speaking with her Southern accent, which I noticed only came out when she talked to her mom. She was holding the phone in one hand and playing with her curly hair in the other but she looked up, removed her hand from her hair and waved. I mouthed “hello” and put my coffee mug in the dishwasher. It was full and containing dishes from Lainie's dinner with her boy-toy of the week but, not surprisingly, she waited for me to run it. Our dishwasher was particularly loud and so I ran it, hoping Lainie would not be able to hear her mother and went back to my room. Her negligence in the way of household duties was wearing thin on me. But I found her on Craig's List and was just happy she wasn't a psychopath.

Back in my room, I searched one more time for Nate under active matches and he still wasn't there. It didn't make sense. Where could he have gone? I muttered, “Freakin’ weird,” double clicked closed-matches and there he was, smiling at me from what I had hoped was his parent's boat. (I'd always wished my parents would buy a boat but my dad said, “The two best days in a boat owner's life are the day he buys a boat and the day he sells it.”)

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