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Authors: L. Alison Heller
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Vermont house, the Vermont house.’” She pitches her voice even higher, presumably to imitate Suzie. I wonder if Suzie is a helium addict.
Lillian looks at Rachel. “I told her to call you tomorrow to discuss it. We have to get her to realize she can’t afford the upkeep on the Vermont house and the Tribeca loft without dipping into the mutual fund that she’ll need for retirement, okay?”
Rachel nods. “I’ll work on her tomorrow.”
Lillian continues. “And Greg Hertslitz is a schmuck. That guy lawyers by brute force. I mean, Suzie is a stupid nag, but she’s nervous. And he came on like a tornado. Did I ever tell you guys about the time Greg and I got into a screaming match in the lobby of the First Department Appellate Division?” She tells a story that sounds familiar, except that when I had heard it before, maybe the screaming match was between Lillian and Bonnie Werther in the rotunda at Sixty Centre Street. Or maybe it was in the library with Colonel Mustard. The Kir royales are clearly starting to have an effect.
“All right. Enough work chat.” She turns to Rachel. “Where did you get those shoes? And your nail polish is cute. Hey, did you see what Svetlana did with my nails?” Lillian holds up her French manicure and wiggles her fingers. “We all have to go to her again.”
“Oh, is that the light pink on top of that glossy nude again? I love that combination. It looks great,” says Rachel.
Lillian beams thanks and turns to the rest of us. “So how’s everyone? Give me the update. Liz. What’s going on with you? How’s Adam?”
Liz has been living with Adam, an accountant, for the past three years. She barely sees him during the week, but their relationship appears stable and boring nonetheless. Lots of Chinese takeout and recorded television shows.
“Fine. Everything’s good. He’s working hard.”
“Is he coming tonight?”
“No, he has to work late.” Liz pouts but I know it’s an act. Earlier, she had told me that after his third Bacon Payne holiday party, Adam had sworn off attending any more.
Lillian nods. “Rachel? Did you and your mother make up?”
Rachel sighs. “Yes. I promised that I wouldn’t be late to Thanksgiving next year and she promised not to log in to my Facebook account as me. And I changed my password so she can’t even if she wants to. Balance is restored…for now.”
“Let’s talk about men! Any dating news?”
Rachel shakes her head and pumps her fists. “JDate reject!”
I laugh. Rachel and I have commiserated about the hopelessness of being single in the city and working around the clock.
Lillian tilts her glass toward me. “And Molly?” She squints her eyes. “I bet you’re a heartbreaker.”
I shake my head vigorously. “No broken hearts in my wake.”
Lillian leans toward me. “Oh, come on. What’s your most recent romantic conquest? Dish! We’re all family here.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hope rushing toward the table. I say a silent prayer of thanks to be out of the hot seat as we all turn toward her.
“Sorry I’m late.” Hope’s eyes dart toward Lillian. “I finished the draft of the Statement of Proposed Disposition. We can submit it tomorrow.”
Lillian barely makes eye contact. “So glad you could join us.” I think she’s sneering.
Hope stands uncomfortably for a moment. Liz secures a chair from another table and pushes it next to hers, squeezing Hope’s shoulder. Hope looks at her gratefully, gives a half smile and sits down. I’ve never seen Hope so uncomfortable in her own skin.
Lillian peers at her phone. “Oh. I missed a call from Roger. We’re supposed to meet in the lobby now and go over to the Palace together. Anyone who wants to come in our car, let’s go.”
Rachel gets up and runs to catch up to Lillian, laughing asshe says something that I can’t hear. Liz and Hope stay at the table, Hope whispering and gesturing, Liz listening and nodding. Neither of them looks at me, so I
Lillian looks at Rachel. “I told her to call you tomorrow to discuss it. We have to get her to realize she can’t afford the upkeep on the Vermont house and the Tribeca loft without dipping into the mutual fund that she’ll need for retirement, okay?”
Rachel nods. “I’ll work on her tomorrow.”
Lillian continues. “And Greg Hertslitz is a schmuck. That guy lawyers by brute force. I mean, Suzie is a stupid nag, but she’s nervous. And he came on like a tornado. Did I ever tell you guys about the time Greg and I got into a screaming match in the lobby of the First Department Appellate Division?” She tells a story that sounds familiar, except that when I had heard it before, maybe the screaming match was between Lillian and Bonnie Werther in the rotunda at Sixty Centre Street. Or maybe it was in the library with Colonel Mustard. The Kir royales are clearly starting to have an effect.
“All right. Enough work chat.” She turns to Rachel. “Where did you get those shoes? And your nail polish is cute. Hey, did you see what Svetlana did with my nails?” Lillian holds up her French manicure and wiggles her fingers. “We all have to go to her again.”
“Oh, is that the light pink on top of that glossy nude again? I love that combination. It looks great,” says Rachel.
Lillian beams thanks and turns to the rest of us. “So how’s everyone? Give me the update. Liz. What’s going on with you? How’s Adam?”
Liz has been living with Adam, an accountant, for the past three years. She barely sees him during the week, but their relationship appears stable and boring nonetheless. Lots of Chinese takeout and recorded television shows.
“Fine. Everything’s good. He’s working hard.”
“Is he coming tonight?”
“No, he has to work late.” Liz pouts but I know it’s an act. Earlier, she had told me that after his third Bacon Payne holiday party, Adam had sworn off attending any more.
Lillian nods. “Rachel? Did you and your mother make up?”
Rachel sighs. “Yes. I promised that I wouldn’t be late to Thanksgiving next year and she promised not to log in to my Facebook account as me. And I changed my password so she can’t even if she wants to. Balance is restored…for now.”
“Let’s talk about men! Any dating news?”
Rachel shakes her head and pumps her fists. “JDate reject!”
I laugh. Rachel and I have commiserated about the hopelessness of being single in the city and working around the clock.
Lillian tilts her glass toward me. “And Molly?” She squints her eyes. “I bet you’re a heartbreaker.”
I shake my head vigorously. “No broken hearts in my wake.”
Lillian leans toward me. “Oh, come on. What’s your most recent romantic conquest? Dish! We’re all family here.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hope rushing toward the table. I say a silent prayer of thanks to be out of the hot seat as we all turn toward her.
“Sorry I’m late.” Hope’s eyes dart toward Lillian. “I finished the draft of the Statement of Proposed Disposition. We can submit it tomorrow.”
Lillian barely makes eye contact. “So glad you could join us.” I think she’s sneering.
Hope stands uncomfortably for a moment. Liz secures a chair from another table and pushes it next to hers, squeezing Hope’s shoulder. Hope looks at her gratefully, gives a half smile and sits down. I’ve never seen Hope so uncomfortable in her own skin.
Lillian peers at her phone. “Oh. I missed a call from Roger. We’re supposed to meet in the lobby now and go over to the Palace together. Anyone who wants to come in our car, let’s go.”
Rachel gets up and runs to catch up to Lillian, laughing asshe says something that I can’t hear. Liz and Hope stay at the table, Hope whispering and gesturing, Liz listening and nodding. Neither of them looks at me, so I
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