Chapter Thirty-Four
“What do you think?” Eliza turned in front of the mirror, looking at herself in the black crepe fabric.
Mo wrinkled her nose from where she stood, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, one knee bent, her foot flat against the wall. “Blah,” she said.
“You do realize this is for a work event? Not New Year’s Eve?”
“What is it they say?—dress for the job you want, not the job you have?”
Eliza thought about some of the sparkly numbers Mo had been showing her as they browsed. “I have a feeling you think I want the job of a Price Is Right spokesmodel.”
“Ha ha. Next dress, please.” Mo waggled her fingers, shooing her away.
Eliza went back into the dressing room and reached for the next hanger. This would be dress number six. She had originally planned to simply go with the same dress she’d worn to the gala the year before, but then Mo reminded her that there would be a photographer, suggesting that a new outfit was advisable.
She truly hadn’t been sure when she’d find time to go shopping. Life at NOY had become completely insane. Launching an award and changing speakers on such short notice were things she hoped never to have to do again. Everyone had an ever-growing to-do list, and Vanessa’s master to-do list was the ring to rule them all, as Tolkien might say. On top of all the obvious items, there were SignUpGeniuses so board members and volunteers could staff the check-in table; a Google sheet listing any mobile number anyone could possibly need the night of the event?—from the caterer to Amber’s cousin who could be counted on to carry heavy things; and a shared document tracking every item they had to bring to the venue.
The table assignments were an ongoing puzzle, and Eliza had startled when she saw Josh Abrams pop up on the RSVP list. Then she remembered that Josh’s firm had bought a table. She’d been feeling awkward and guilty ever since Scott had told her the truth about what had happened back in high school, and had texted Josh to apologize for her curtness the night of the Friendsgiving. He’d texted back a Don’t worry about it message, but nothing more. Whatever had happened ten years earlier, clearly they were both in different places now. She kept checking the guest list for anyone named Shira.
In the middle of it all, she and Scott made plans to meet Carol on neutral territory?—the food court at the Westchester mall. It felt good that she and her brother were on the same team?—and as teammates, rather than as coach and towel girl. After the big “coming clean,” as she’d begun to think of it, they had spent a long time talking. But the part of the conversation that kept replaying in her head was what Scott had said as they’d ridden the elevator downstairs together to make sure she got a cab.
“I’m so pissed that Mom did this to you.” He’d said the words so matter-of-factly, seemingly okay with being angry at Laura. She knew he loved their mom. And it was a revelation that he could hold that love and that anger at the same time, so easily.
“Yeah, I’m pretty pissed at her, too,” she replied, surprising herself. Maybe if Laura had come clean earlier, Eliza could have actually had a relationship with Ross. But more than that?—she was pissed that Laura was gone. Yes, it was irrational, but it was real. And now that she’d admitted it, she’d felt some of that anger?—so long kept tightly bound and hidden?—begin to ebb.
Now, in the cramped dressing room, she slid dark blue satin charmeuse fabric over her head. She had had doubts about this dress when Mo picked it up, but looking in the mirror, she realized that her friend was onto something. The gown was sleeveless, which was a plus when you never knew what you might be called upon to do?—such as adjusting wires to get tech to work correctly. It had a high neck, so no cleavage issues, and the top was blousy and then cinched into ruching at the waist. The skirt was short, so easy to move in, but not so short that she’d have to worry about inadvertently flashing anyone.
She stepped out of the dressing room, and Mo looked up from her phone.
“Wow, girl. You look hot!”
Eliza twirled in front of the mirror.
“That is the dress. No need to try on anything else.”
“You think?”
“Definitely. Do you have the right shoes?”
“I have silver strappy sandals?—they’re heels, but pretty comfortable.”
Mo nodded approvingly. “Perfect! And now we have time for tea!”
After Eliza put her regular clothes back on and paid for the dress, they found their way to a quiet café nearby, where Eliza was able to give her garment bag a chair of its own.
Mo dipped her tea bag in and out of her mug with one hand and slid the plate bearing a croissant toward Eliza. “You have to eat some of this. It’s way too big for one.”
Eliza obediently tore off a corner and popped it into her mouth.
“So,” Mo continued. “You’re seeing Carol this weekend?”
Eliza nodded, still chewing.
“You know, I was thinking. You could kill two birds with one stone. Maybe you should try to set Ross up with Carol. It would give Carol something to distract her, and maybe it would loosen Ross up.”
The croissant suddenly felt like lead in Eliza’s esophagus. “Wait. What?”
Mo ripped a piece of croissant off for herself. “Joking! Obviously!”
Eliza picked up her mug and then set it back down again, hesitating. “I’m actually not in a place where I can joke about that stuff.”
Mo peered at her. “You’re serious,” she said slowly.
Eliza nodded.
Her friend’s face fell. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry! You know I’m just trying to help...”
Eliza reached out to touch Mo’s hand. “I know. And I’ve always counted on you to lighten stuff up for me. But this time... it’s just a lot.”
Mo pressed her lips together. “No, I get it. You should have said something before. Me and my goofing around about this stuff...”
Eliza pushed back some loose strands of hair. “It’s okay. I’m just having a hard time, and it’s tough to see any humor in this right now.”
“Oh, totally. Look. I’m a moron. I should have asked what you needed, instead of just blathering on and on.”
“Honestly, I don’t even know what I need.” Eliza put her cold hands around the mug and tried to pull her mixed-up thoughts together. “It’s silly, but I guess I had this fantasy about having a new dad, instead of realizing that Ross Sawyer is a total stranger who owes me nothing.”
Mo scooted her chair around the table so she could put her arm around Eliza. “You know,” she began, “it’s probably easier to focus on the possibilities of a new dad than on the loss of the one you had.”
Eliza swallowed around the lump in her throat and found she couldn’t speak.
“Oh jeez, now I’m making you cry. I think I’m going to get demoted from best-friend status this way.” Mo dug around in her purse. “And I don’t even have tissues!”
Eliza laughed. “You’re never getting demoted. You’ve collected too many points over the years for a lack of tissues to knock you off your pedestal.”
Mo touched her head to Eliza’s. “Seriously, you know I’m here for you. Always, and no matter what.”
“I do.” She blew her nose into a napkin and held it aloft. “It’s not just anyone I’d blow my nose in front of, you know.”
“Obviously. And I’m honored to be able to witness it.”
Eliza dabbed at her eyes while Mo moved her chair back around to its original position.
“More croissant?” she offered. “If you get any skinnier we’re going to have to go back for that dress in a smaller size.”
Obediently, Eliza ripped off another piece.
“By the way,” Mo continued, “Nik’s friend Griffin asked for your number. Can I give it to him?”
She hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know...”
“No pressure, but he’s a nice guy. I’ve met him a few times, and Nik has known him for years.”
Eliza tried to get herself excited about the idea but failed miserably, despite reminding herself, The best way to get over one man is to get under another one. “It’s just not the right time.”
“Fair enough. But tell me if you change your mind.”
Back in her apartment, Eliza hung the garment bag in her closet and dug out her silver shoes so they would be readily accessible. Her conversation with Mo had lifted a huge weight she hadn’t realized had been dragging her down.
As she settled in to stream the next season of Monk , a light bulb went off over her head. Mo’s comment about focusing on Ross to avoid thinking about Jack had sounded so familiar. Aunt Claude had said exactly the same thing.
Jack’s death had come as such a shock, it didn’t feel real. And she and her dad had had such a fractious, distant relationship, she wouldn’t have thought his absence would be something she’d feel so acutely. And yet... for their small family to have contracted that much more tightly, and for him to no longer be just a phone call away, definitely squeezed her heart. She’d always thought there would be time to get onto better footing with Jack, but the sands in the hourglass had run out.
At Thanksgiving dinner, Aunt Claude, Uncle Mitch, and Eliza’s cousins Teddy and Nora had been as warm and kind and fun as ever. Nora was full of stories about her new boyfriend, and Teddy had entertained them with live renditions of his funniest YouTube videos, but as much as she’d tried to avoid thinking about it, Eliza was constantly aware that Jack?—who undoubtedly would have made a crack about hoping that Teddy didn’t intend to pay off his student loans by doing comedy?—wasn’t there.
Perhaps Scott was right that she didn’t let people get close to her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard that critique before, particularly from Mo. But trust didn’t come easily for her. Maybe it was time to try to change that.