her was muffled, once removed, but there was no beckoning ray of white light, only a ton of other women snapping up samples and exclaiming over chair covers. And all of them seemed to be moving and talking at warp speed, while she was stuck in slow motion.
Mandy led her to a brightly decorated table whose sign read Pinchas Paper Products. After the requisite air-kissing, Stacy Pinchas pulled out an oversized piece of card stock festooned in gold and silver foil and presented it to Judy.
“Don’t you just love the type style?” Mandy gushed. “And look how the silver stands out against the black and gold. It’s masculine, yet communicates the sports theme with real elegance.” She lowered her voice. “The sports theme’s been done to death, so doing something new with it is critical.”
“Hmmm?” Judy tried to focus, but she couldn’t seem to work up the energy.
“The sports thing,” Mandy repeated. “If you don’t do something different with it . . . well.” The coordinator looked her in the eye. “Then you really don’t need me.”
Judy considered the other woman. During the planning of Jason’s extravaganza, the slightest hint of losing Mandy would have triggered a full-blown panic attack. Today Judy felt only a bone-crushing weariness. And an increasingly urgent need to get out of this building. Now.
Judy looked at the invitation. Did she really care what color the foils were? Did she believe the invitation’s design would appreciably affect Sammy’s bar mitzvah experience?
“It looks fine,” Judy said. “I guess I’m just not in the mood for all this”—she motioned around the room—“right now.”
Mandy stiffened but quickly recovered. It appeared Judy was not going to be fired.
“We’ve already booked the important things. Why don’t I stay and pick up any samples I want you to see?” She gave Judy a parting hug and made a show of shooing her off. “You just call me when you’re ready to see them, and I’ll run them over.”
Outside, Judy drew in great gulps of fresh air. The day was bright and a slight spring breeze stirred the air, but she felt lost, unsure what to do next. Sliding into her BMW SUV, she started the car, then rooted around in her purse until she located her cell phone.
Craig picked up on the third ring. She could hear a baseball game on in the background; heard one of her sons shout in response to something that must have happened on-screen.
“Oh, hi,” he said. “Where are you?”
She used to feel a little bubble of pleasure when she heard her husband’s voice; now the little bubble was filled with annoyance.
“I told you I was going to the expo.”
“Oh, right.”
She could tell his attention was elsewhere, most likely on the game.
“When will you be home?” he asked.
“Soon.”
“Good.”
Silence.
Once they might have chatted easily for fifteen or twenty minutes; now they couldn’t fill five.
“I, uh, didn’t really have the energy for the expo. Mandy’s going to bring the samples later.”
“That’s good.”
She heard papers shuffle in the background. A mechanical voice told him he had mail.
“I think I’m going to drive over and see Daddy before I come home. I might pick up Chinese for dinner.”
“OK,” Craig said automatically. “Give him my best.”
Before she could respond she was listening to a dial tone and feeling annoyed all over again. Craig had been a rock during her father’s emergency surgery and the frightening days immediately afterward. But once her father was out of imminent danger, Craig had made it clear he expected her to move on. Only she couldn’t seem to get back to normal—not that normal had been feeling all that attractive lately.
On the way to her parents’ she tried a glass-is-half-full exercise. After all, her father was going to be fine; she had a marriage that her friends envied, two healthy sons, and an upcoming event that she could afford to celebrate in a way befitting their
Mandy led her to a brightly decorated table whose sign read Pinchas Paper Products. After the requisite air-kissing, Stacy Pinchas pulled out an oversized piece of card stock festooned in gold and silver foil and presented it to Judy.
“Don’t you just love the type style?” Mandy gushed. “And look how the silver stands out against the black and gold. It’s masculine, yet communicates the sports theme with real elegance.” She lowered her voice. “The sports theme’s been done to death, so doing something new with it is critical.”
“Hmmm?” Judy tried to focus, but she couldn’t seem to work up the energy.
“The sports thing,” Mandy repeated. “If you don’t do something different with it . . . well.” The coordinator looked her in the eye. “Then you really don’t need me.”
Judy considered the other woman. During the planning of Jason’s extravaganza, the slightest hint of losing Mandy would have triggered a full-blown panic attack. Today Judy felt only a bone-crushing weariness. And an increasingly urgent need to get out of this building. Now.
Judy looked at the invitation. Did she really care what color the foils were? Did she believe the invitation’s design would appreciably affect Sammy’s bar mitzvah experience?
“It looks fine,” Judy said. “I guess I’m just not in the mood for all this”—she motioned around the room—“right now.”
Mandy stiffened but quickly recovered. It appeared Judy was not going to be fired.
“We’ve already booked the important things. Why don’t I stay and pick up any samples I want you to see?” She gave Judy a parting hug and made a show of shooing her off. “You just call me when you’re ready to see them, and I’ll run them over.”
Outside, Judy drew in great gulps of fresh air. The day was bright and a slight spring breeze stirred the air, but she felt lost, unsure what to do next. Sliding into her BMW SUV, she started the car, then rooted around in her purse until she located her cell phone.
Craig picked up on the third ring. She could hear a baseball game on in the background; heard one of her sons shout in response to something that must have happened on-screen.
“Oh, hi,” he said. “Where are you?”
She used to feel a little bubble of pleasure when she heard her husband’s voice; now the little bubble was filled with annoyance.
“I told you I was going to the expo.”
“Oh, right.”
She could tell his attention was elsewhere, most likely on the game.
“When will you be home?” he asked.
“Soon.”
“Good.”
Silence.
Once they might have chatted easily for fifteen or twenty minutes; now they couldn’t fill five.
“I, uh, didn’t really have the energy for the expo. Mandy’s going to bring the samples later.”
“That’s good.”
She heard papers shuffle in the background. A mechanical voice told him he had mail.
“I think I’m going to drive over and see Daddy before I come home. I might pick up Chinese for dinner.”
“OK,” Craig said automatically. “Give him my best.”
Before she could respond she was listening to a dial tone and feeling annoyed all over again. Craig had been a rock during her father’s emergency surgery and the frightening days immediately afterward. But once her father was out of imminent danger, Craig had made it clear he expected her to move on. Only she couldn’t seem to get back to normal—not that normal had been feeling all that attractive lately.
On the way to her parents’ she tried a glass-is-half-full exercise. After all, her father was going to be fine; she had a marriage that her friends envied, two healthy sons, and an upcoming event that she could afford to celebrate in a way befitting their
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