CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Laurie
I was with Tanya at lunch during work, sitting at a café around the corner from our building. The café was nondescript, filled with people like us, government employees escaping from their cubes for a quick meal in the New York sunshine, light sparkling off the sidewalks, cars speeding by spewing us with fumes as we ate our pasta.
But still, a sunny, relatively warm day is rare for New York City in the fall and it seemed like everyone was here this afternoon, eager to get out of the fluorescent lighting and drab work setting. So Tanya chewed slowly, trying to avoid going back to work for as long as possible.
“We still haven’t gone up to the Bronx to check out our signs,” she reminded me, fixing me with a look. “We’re flaking on our jobs. Maybe Saunders will fire me then,” she rubbed her hands gleefully.
And I laughed.
“Tan, I know, I know,” I said ruefully. “I keep meaning to but things keep coming up.”
“But what?” asked my co-worker, rolling her eyes. “Come on, you can come to my place afterwards for some wine and dinner. What could be better than red, red wine?”
I just laughed because how to explain? I had different priorities now and that included getting home and eating dinner with my man. Tucker and I usually ordered delicious take-out before retiring upstairs with a bottle of wine, lounging in the big bed. And of course, if Tucker and I are around each other for even an hour, it means there’s gonna be sexy times, some dick in cunt or dick in ass, or both.
But I could hardly scandalize my co-worker, so I just hedged.
“It’s my divorce,” I lied, biting my lip before looking straight her in the eye. I hated lying and was bad at it, but it was just easier this way. “You know, papers and stuff.”
Tanya exhaled loudly, blowing her frizzy bangs off her forehead, her hair like a poodle’s crown.
“Paperwork, schmakerwork,” she said with a wry smile. “Seriously girl, I’ve been divorced twice and yours is taking longer than both of mine put together.”
I colored then.
“Um, I dunno,” I said lamely. “I’ll have to ask my lawyer what’s going on. Besides, shouldn’t we get back?” I asked, glancing at my watch quickly, trying to change the subject. “Oh shit, it’s almost one thirty, we better jet.”
And with that, we reached for our credit cards to split the bill. Without thinking my fingers slipped to my wallet where all my cards were, my driver’s license, health insurance, gym membership jumbled together and unthinkingly I pulled out Tucker’s card and dropped it on the table.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, the metal caught the afternoon light, glinting in our eyes, and immediately Tanya was on it, snatching the rectangle and looking at it closely.
“What is this?” she asked curiously, “this isn’t yours, is it? I see it belongs to a ‘Tucker McGrath.’”
“Oh yeah,” I stammered. “Oh sorry, wrong card, here, here’s mine,” I said, burrowing in my purse and coming up with my humble AmEx. “Here, take this,” I said, offering it, waving it under her nose.
But my co-worker couldn’t be deterred. She peered at Tucker’s name even more closely, squinting her eyes over her reading glasses.
“Laurie, why do you have this?” she asked. “You know, merchants are supposed to confiscate stolen credit cards,” she said slowly.
“It’s not stolen!” I gasped, color rising to my cheeks. “I have that legitimately.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Tanya skeptically, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest, the card still firmly in her grasp. “Honey, they don’t pay us much at HRA but there’s no need to steal,” she said seriously. “I know this divorce has wiped you out but if you need money, I can make you a personal loan.”
I gasped again. How could my friend think I was so down and out, so poor that I’d taken to swiping other people’s stuff? But Tanya just shook her head.
“Honey, like I said, I’ve been divorced twice, been through the wringer twice and it wiped me out both times,” she said with wryly. “Why do you think I was biking to work for a while? Because my last ex took my car and I had no money for a subway ticket. That’s right, not even five dollars a day for transportation, I had to fucking bike to work last winter, through snow and sleet, I practically got pneumonia.”
Holy cow, I sat back at the table, astounded. Tanya had been so down and out? I hadn’t realized, she’d said she wanted to get in shape and was biking to improve her fitness, I’d never suspected.