Chapter 15 #2
Augie still braced herself as the women began to arrive, each wearing a dress fit for Easter brunch.
First, there was Mrs. Anderson, then Schmidt, Fravel, and Cline.
Augie always found the women worse as a group.
Even if they were fine individually, together, there was an air of competition, a passive-aggressive politeness.
It was most obvious at the women’s golf or tennis tournaments—everyone silently undercutting one another.
At least the men didn’t hide their outbursts and insults.
It was almost a relief when people were openly volatile.
Then suddenly, there was Mrs. Crawley, drawing everyone’s attention as she entered the room. She looked stunning in a light
blue dress, nude heels, natural yet refined makeup. Augie fingered her bowtie.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Crawley said to the new girl as she took a Bellini from her tray, tucking her straw clutch under her arm.
She surveyed the room, and Augie felt her pause as she saw her—betraying the briefest blip of recognition and scorn—before
turning to Miriam and Mrs. Harrison. She gave them each light hugs, congratulating Miriam.
Augie kept her head down as she refilled drinks and reminded Mrs. Harrison of the timeline. But as the shower continued and
women shuffled, she became overly aware of Mrs. Crawley. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her every move. It didn’t
help that Mrs. Crawley was seated in her section, which meant Augie would be serving her. So be it. At least they were on
a more equal field at the Club. This wasn’t the cabin. The Club belonged to them both.
Nonetheless, as lunch service started, Augie tensed each time she approached her table.
She couldn’t help but notice every detail about Mrs. Crawley: how she barely ate, how she kept touching her pendant necklace,
how she smelled of patchouli and Riesling. She seemed more talkative than usual, too, discussing some design project, the
boys’ Spanish classes, Hilton Head. She was acting strangely outgoing and chatty, her words sliding into one another like
a sentence with no spaces.
The only time she stopped speaking was when Mrs. Cline complimented her necklace. Mrs. Crawley froze, mid-sentence, as Mrs. Cline leaned down to study the pendant, asking if it was amber.
“Is it from the Baltics? Latvia? Poland?” Mrs. Cline asked, using it as an excuse to dive into her own story about purchasing
gemstones during her Viking Baltic cruise. Mrs. Crawley held the stone firmly between her thumb and forefinger, silent. Everyone
eyed one another awkwardly until, finally, Mrs. Crawley came to and said, “Yes, amber, from Latvia. Yes. It was a gift. From
an ex.” She laughed loudly, hiccupped—and Augie was sure then: She was drunk.
Of course she had the freedom to get drunk on a random Tuesday afternoon, of course she had endless men buying her jewelry,
of course she’d been to Latvia—a place Augie could not place. She didn’t even know if it was a city or a country.
Augie focused on clearing the room from then on, eager to stay out of Mrs. Crawley’s sight. She knew it was a mean thought,
but she hoped Mrs. Crawley would make a fool of herself. She also wondered if she always drank this much and Augie simply
hadn’t noticed before, or if it was something about today. As always, she wondered what Chat thought.
“Augie, my girl!” Robin appeared out of nowhere, arms outstretched despite balancing a silver gift bag.
“Robin!” Augie fixed her face.
“I was hoping I’d catch you! I’ve missed you.” Robin pulled Augie into a hug. Augie typically made sure not to be overly friendly
with members while working, but Robin didn’t play by the rules. Augie wouldn’t get in trouble, either. Robin was more or less
royalty.
“I missed you, too.” Augie realized it was true. Robin had always been so supportive of her, so enthused that, unlike Leah,
she wanted to move out of state.
Miriam and Mrs. Harrison approached.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” They all hugged, and Augie noticed everyone watching.
Robin was a true force: She had the same long, lean body as Leah, same inviting smile, and even more radiating confidence.
Plus, everyone knew she was brilliant, successful.
In a twisted way, their family’s tragedy also gave her power.
People couldn’t imagine her grief. They respected her strength.
The fact that she had maintained Lyle’s innocence all this time, yet never blamed anyone else, put her on an even higher pedestal. She was a class act.
“I wrapped a meeting at the Carlson Towers, and I raced here,” Robin explained to Miriam. “I’m thrilled to see you. Look at
you!”
Augie went to the kitchen. Robin always drank spiked Arnold Palmers, and she rushed to make one. Robin was busy talking when
she returned, but as Augie handed her the drink, she focused on Augie once more.
“I really cannot believe I’m just seeing you now, here, Aug.” Robin grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry the agency turned out to
be a bust. Who could have predicted that merger? I know Julia and Micah were shocked. I’m still so proud of you. I know something
better will come along.”
“Yeah, yes. I was over the other day. The pool—it’s freezing.”
“Polar plunge! And can you believe it? Leah! Officially at the Hotel Harrison.” She clucked her tongue. “It is good experience,
but, I really do wish she’d explore.”
Despite everything, Augie felt a tinge of solidarity.
“We’ll see how it goes. We have to catch up properly. Come over this week. We’ll order Thai, like old times.”
“Robin,” Mrs. Cline interrupted. “Can I steal you for a moment? I wanted to talk to you about the South Loop fundraiser, if
you have time.”
“I’ll see you this week, okay, Augie? Don’t work too hard.”
As Robin backed away and Augie resumed cleaning, she was unsure how to feel. Anytime she talked to Robin at the Club, she felt both proud and pitiful.
“Augie,” she heard then. She couldn’t place the voice at first, but as she looked around, she stopped. There in the corner,
Mrs. Crawley was waving her over.
“Can you come here for a moment, please?” She smiled in a straight line.
Augie went numb, still—then started toward her. She didn’t know why she moved so willingly. It was instinct, maybe. Maybe
it was simple: She was in serving mode. Obedient.
As Augie approached, she made sure to look directly at Mrs. Crawley; she was not going to back down. But Mrs. Crawley’s eyes
were red and dead, revealing nothing except that she was drunk. For a second, despite everything, Augie felt bad for her.
“Augie,” Mrs. Crawley repeated, chewing on her name in a way that felt mocking. “We were talking about how lovely this event
is, and how hard you all work.” She set her Bellini on the bookshelf behind her as she reached into her purse, swaying slightly.
“And we know we don’t do this often, but we thought we should do better. So, a little something for you. For your friend,
too.” Her eyes skated to the new girl across the room, who was struggling to carry a stack of plates. She took two bills from
her clutch, slicing them through the air.
Augie focused on the crisp twenties between her French manicured fingers. She felt too confused to respond. What was this?
A bribe? A show of power?
“That’s very kind, but there’s no need. We’re happy to do our jobs.
” Augie took a small step backward. Outside of golf caddies, staff rarely received tips.
While it technically was allowed, members knew better than to make a habit of it.
Part of the Club’s appeal was that it was cashless, as if real money did not exist.
Mrs. Crawley’s mouth twitched as she held her smile taut. Around them, Mrs. Adams and Schmidt sipped their wine, picking up
on the tension.
“Oh, come on, hun,” Mrs. Adams interjected. She grabbed the twenties and folded them into Augie’s apron pocket. “It’s just
a little something. You all work so hard.”
Mrs. Adams had a son in Augie’s class at school, and she’d been to several parties at their house. Last summer when Mr. and
Mrs. Adams were at a wedding in Italy, Garrett had even held a three-day beer Olympics in their basement. Augie could clearly
picture their black felt pool table, their wine fridge, the massive blue-tiled bathroom where Leah had spent hours puking.
“It’s nice to see you, dear.” Mrs. Adams leaned in. “I was telling Danika here how you and Garrett went to high school together.
And the U. Go Gophers!” She raised her fists. “He’s working at Wells Fargo down in Milwaukee, if you heard. It all goes by
so fast. You must have just graduated too?”
Augie felt hot and stuck. “I did, uh, yes, I’m only here for the summer.”
Mrs. Crawley stared at her, her pupils shrinking to dots.
“Yes,” Mrs. Crawley said. “Advertising can be tough. Especially in New York.” Her voice oozed with alcohol and arrogance.
She turned to pick up her drink as Augie felt faint.
“Ah, the Big Apple! That’s so exciting,” Mrs. Adam continued, unfazed. “I’ll have to tell Garrett you’re back. He comes home
a lot these days. I’m sure he’d want me to say hi.”
Augie took another step backward.
“Yes, tell him hi,” she stammered, turning as she heard Mrs. Adams say what a nice girl Augie had always been, that it was too bad the job market was so tough right now. Augie closed her eyes. She jammed her hand into her apron, grabbing for the slippery bills.
She whipped around, walking straight up to Mrs. Crawley.
“I can’t accept this.” She held the bills out to her, her arm hanging in the air.
Mrs. Crawley didn’t move. Augie felt Mrs. Adams and Schmidt look at her, each other, back to Augie, but Augie didn’t break
eye contact with Mrs. Crawley.
Then, without thinking, Augie let go of the bills. Slowly, each fluttered to the ground like a drifting autumn leaf. The women
all looked on, their chins dipping one degree at a time.
“Ope, well,” Mrs. Adams finally said.
Augie left before she could register Mrs. Crawley’s reaction, beelining for the kitchen. She didn’t care if the whole room
was watching now, if Aida would question her later. Who did Mrs. Crawley think she was? Where did she get the gall? She could
have offered Augie a thousand dollars and Augie would have left it at her feet.
She would not give her the satisfaction.