<<Jennifer to Beth>> Damn me with faint praise, why don’t you.
Tell me more about this cute guy you’ve imagined.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> There’s not much to tell—beyond his monumental cuteness.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Monumental?
<<Beth to Jennifer>> He’s very, very tall. And strong-looking. Like the kind of guy you feel standing next to you before you actually see him, because he’s blocking so much ambient light.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Is that how you spotted him?
<<Beth to Jennifer>> No, I spotted him the first time walking down the hallway. And then I spotted him at the drinking fountain—and I thought to myself, “Now there’s a tall drink of water …
getting a drink of water.” He has really nice brown hair and action-hero facial features.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Explain.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Manly. Kind of square. Harrison Fordish. The kind of guy you can picture negotiating for hostages and also jumping away from an explosion.
Do you think it’s scandalous that someone in a committed relationship like mine is checking out guys at the drinking fountain?
<<Jennifer to Beth>> No. How could you not notice a cute guy around here? That’s like spotting a passenger pigeon.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> A passenger pigeon with a sweet ass.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Why did you have to go there?
<<Beth to Jennifer>> To bug you. I didn’t even look at his butt. I never remember to do that.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> I’m going back to work now.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> You seem a little testy. Is everything okay?
<<Jennifer to Beth>> I’m fine.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> See what I mean? Testy.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Okay, I’m not fine. But I’m too embarrassed to talk about why.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Don’t talk, then. Type.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Only if you don’t go repeating what I’m about to tell you. It makes me sound unbalanced.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> I won’t. I swear. Cross my heart, needles, etc.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> All right. But this is really stupid. More stupid than usual. I was at the mall last night, walking around by myself, trying not to spend money, trying not to think about a delicious Cinnabon …and I found myself walking by the Baby Gap. I’ve never been in a Baby Gap. So, I decided to duck in. On a lark.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Right. On a lark. I’m familiar with those. So …
<<Jennifer to Beth>> So …I’m larking through the Baby Gap, looking at tiny capri pants and sweaters that cost more than …I don’t know, more than they should. And I get totally sucked in by this ridiculous, tiny fur coat. The kind of coat a baby might need to go to the ballet. In Moscow. In 1918. To match her tiny pearls.
I’m looking at this preposterous coat, and a Baby Gap woman comes up to me and says, “Isn’t that sweet? How old is your daughter?” And I say, “Oh, no. She’s not. Not yet.”
And she says, “When are you due?”
And I say, “February.”
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Whoa.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> I know. I just lied. About being pregnant. If I were really pregnant, I wouldn’t be at the BabyGap, I’d be sitting in a dark room, sobbing.
So Baby Gap lady says, “Well, then you’ll want one for next season, size 6 to 12 months. These coats are a steal. We just marked them down today.”
And I agreed that a faux fur coat for only $32.99 was indeed an irresistible deal.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> You bought baby clothes? What did Mitch say?
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Nothing! I hid it in the attic. I felt like I was hiding a body.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Wow. I don’t know what to say. Does this mean you’re softening on the baby issue?
<<Jennifer to Beth>> I think it means I’m softening on the sanity issue. I’m viewing this as a dysfunctional appendage to my general psychosis about babies. I still dread getting pregnant. But now I’m buying clothes for the child I’m terrified to have, and guess what, it’s a girl.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Wow.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> I know.
SOMETIME AFTER MIDNIGHT, Lincoln walked up to the newsroom. It was mostly empty. There were a few nightside copy editors left, poring over the next morning’s newspaper. Someone was sitting at the city desk, listening to a crackling police scanner and working on tomorrow’s crossword.
Lincoln walked to the other side of the long room, where he assumed the Entertainment staff worked. Back there, the cubicles were full of movie posters, concert flyers, promotional photos and toys.