Chapter 6
Chapter Six
F rankie sat in the waiting room of a glossy office in Midtown. She felt like an exposed nerve, as though anyone looking at her right now would see how damaged she was, as though anyone could guess that she’d spent the majority of the past few hours sobbing about her ex-boyfriend and the reckless nature of her life. But Nellie had helped her fix her makeup; she’d helped her fix her hair. And Frankie had removed that horrible pair of tights, freeing her legs to the chilly air-conditioning of this office.
In the foyer was a lit-up sign that read: The Dream of Design. Frankie wasn’t sure what that meant. But it gave her a bad and cheap feeling.
A second later, a woman in a pin-stripe skirt called her into a glass-walled office for the interview. Frankie felt as though she was walking the plank to inevitable doom. Inside the room were three people—an editor, a woman from HR, and another copywriter.
The copywriter went first. “We just love your sharp eye for detail,” she said, “and appreciate that you have a degree in linguistics. Wow. You understand the nuance of words. It’s really something.”
Frankie wondered what that meant, the nuance of words. It felt as though the copywriter was just spewing nonsense and hoping it stuck. Was that what copywriting was all about?
“Yes,” Frankie said instead. “I love words.”
“Then you’ll fit in here,” the editor said.
“Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?” the woman from HR said with a smile.
Frankie felt a bubble come up her throat. Her stomach sloshed. For a moment, all she could think of was Colin and Brynne; all she could imagine was that they’d met for lunch today and then walked each other back to their jobs and kissed on the sidewalk; all she could see was how cute their baby would be—a baby they’d probably always assumed they’d have despite Frankie. Once they got me out of the way.
“Um,” Frankie began, which wasn’t a great way to start, “I’m from Nantucket originally. Like you said already, I majored in linguistics.”
I’m brokenhearted, and my medication is destroying my sense of self, and I don’t know how to make money in the real world.
“Nantucket is beautiful,” the woman from HR said. “You’re so lucky to be from there.”
“Yes,” Frankie said.
It seemed already clear she was not exactly killing the interview. The air was taut. The copywriter glanced at the editor and seemed to offer an expression like wow, she’s not very chatty or pleasant, is she?
Frankie’s cheeks were hot. She suddenly wanted to bolt out of the interview and run down all twenty-seven floors. She wanted to cower in the car and beg Nellie to drive her back to Nantucket.
But instead, she sat there, and she answered questions, and she mortified herself over and over again.
It’s going so much worse than I imagined. Why won’t they just let me off the hook? Why won’t they just open the door and free me?
“Come on,” Nellie said a half-hour later when they met up at the coffee shop down the road. “It was your first job interview! Of course, it wasn’t going to be perfect! But they know that. They get that.”
“It was worse than bad,” Frankie said. “I stuttered so much. And I couldn’t come up with advertising ideas on the spot when they asked. It felt like my brain was a big black hole.”
Nellie groaned. “Who could ever come up with advertising copy on the spot? That sounds so hard.”
Frankie rubbed her temples. Nellie gave her a sympathetic face that made Frankie feel worse.
“Why don’t we go out tonight?” Nellie suggested. “We can get a couple of hostel beds in Brooklyn or Greenwich Village and have a wild night. We can even call Georgia if you want to.”
“No. I don’t want anyone to know how badly I failed,” Frankie said. “Seriously. I want to take this to my grave.”
“I think it’s good to fail sometimes,” Nellie said. “We all have to get comfortable with being imperfect. Right? Because life is all about imperfection.” Nellie bit her lower lip and studied Frankie. “Right?”
Frankie didn’t answer. She flared her nostrils and gazed out the window, daring Colin to pass by. She imagined jumping up and chasing him down the road. She imagined screaming. Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with someone else? Why did you play me for a fool?
Of course, in a city with so many million people, many people milled past within the span of thirty seconds. Colin wasn’t one of them. Probably, Frankie could sit here all day and watch, and Colin wouldn’t walk past.
“Can we just go home?” Frankie asked suddenly.
Nellie bent her head. “Are you sure?”
Frankie knew Nellie had been looking forward to this sisters’ trip to Manhattan. She hated to disappoint her sister. But she physically couldn’t remain on the island of Manhattan. She had to take herself out of the city immediately. She had to return to the shadows of her childhood bedroom and regroup.
Nellie and Frankie walked back to the car without speaking. Nellie looked glum, but Frankie knew she looked worse. Frankie offered to drive now that the interview was over, and Nellie agreed and sat in a ball on the passenger seat and gazed out the window. Frankie gripped the steering wheel with stiff fingers, falling into a meditative trance that took them all the way back to Hyannis far quicker than she’d imagined. She parked in the ferry and followed her sister to the kiosk upstairs, where they bought sodas and M the ferry was nearly in Nantucket Harbor. Frankie got up just as Zane texted her: Hi, now you have my number, too. She laughed and locked eyes with him.
“It was nice to meet you,” she said.
I’ve never been so attracted to someone in my life, she thought again.
“It was beautiful to meet you, too,” he said. “I look forward to seeing you later this week.”
Frankie floated toward Nellie, who got off the phone and followed her down the staircase to their car. Nellie sputtered with questions. “Who was that guy? What were you talking about?” But Frankie refused to answer anything until they reached the car.
Frankie hopped into the driver’s side. Nellie got in and gaped at her.
Frankie felt as though she had sudden and unlimited energy. She closed her eyes and said, “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
“I mean, he looks old. Kind of?” Nellie said.
“He’s like ten years older than me,” Frankie shot, although she didn’t know his age for sure. “I’m twenty-three. I graduated already! I can date whoever I want!”
Nellie raised her shoulders. Frankie could read her expression: Mom and Dad won’t like it.
“I just really need something right now,” Frankie said as she drove slowly, following the line of cars back onto the island. “And I think a hot date with that handsome man might do me some good.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” Nellie laughed and fell back against the car seat. “I’m sorry for doubting you. You deserve to be happy.”
“And I wouldn’t have been happy at that stupid office job,” Frankie affirmed, raising her chin.
“What if they offer you the job anyway?” Nellie asked. “What if the job interview went better than you think?”
Frankie snorted. “It didn’t. Trust me.”
But it didn’t matter. Frankie’s heart fluttered with a sense of magic and freedom. She could still feel the energy that beamed out from Zane’s eyes. She could imagine them kissing on a Nantucket beach as the winds rolled off the waves. She could already imagine them spending all of autumn in Nantucket, heading to the city in winter, and getting an apartment. Perhaps they’d run into Colin and Brynne at their favorite dumpling place in February or March. Maybe Colin would look at her and her handsome boyfriend with bug eyes. Perhaps she’d lean against Zane and say, “I hope you’re doing okay, Colin?” I hope you’re doing okay without me.
It was time for Frankie to find solid ground again. It was time for her to breathe.