Chapter 7
Beth brings me to one of the newer pubs in the village.
It’s small and busy because there’s not much else to do in a place this size, and is aimed at a decidedly younger demographic judging by the underage drinkers sipping furtively in the corner.
There’s a slightly grimy feel to the place and, though we get a few looks, there’s no one I recognize.
In New York, Tyler and I only went to upmarket bars, the kind without prices on the menu.
Sometimes Jess would drag me to some new club everyone was talking about or I’d take her to a few of the Irish places I knew around the city, but it’s rarely how I’d spend a free evening and I’m momentarily awkward when Beth returns to our table with two extra-large glasses of red wine.
“One for you,” she says. “And one for me.” She places them down with exaggerated care before noticing my expression. “Did you want a beer instead?”
I shake my head as she takes a sip. The glass is so full it’s almost brimming over. “I haven’t had a night out in a while.”
“You live in New York,” she scoffs, and I laugh.
“I’m usually very healthy.”
“I thought you moneymakers were all work hard, play hard.”
“Lots are. I just never knew where they found the time.” And Tyler was never into that scene. He was a natural early riser and hated anything that messed with his REM. Nothing alcoholic, caffeinated, or spicy at least four hours before bed.
“Were you always in New York?” Beth asks, shrugging off her coat. She’s wearing dark blue dungarees underneath and a white and black striped shirt. I’d look like an overgrown child if I wore something like that, but she manages to make it look chic.
I try the wine. Questionable is the right word to describe it. But it’s cheap and needed and coats my mouth. “London first,” I answer, taking another sip. “I was there for a year after I finished up at LSE. Then Paris for a few months on an internship and then New York.”
“And now Clonard.” Beth grins. “What’s one more than a trifecta?”
“Quadfecta.”
“No, that sounds made up.”
“Let’s just say I’ve come full circle.”
“At least you tried,” she says. “The farthest I ever got was here.”
“There’s always time.”
“Nah, I’ve decided to lay down roots. Plus, I can’t do long-haul flights. I get headaches. I will make an exception for New York however. Especially now I have a floor to crash on.” She winks. “That was me inviting myself over, by the way.”
“I’d love to have you. Unfortunately, I have no floor to crash on.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had to give up my apartment. I had to give up everything.”
“Everything?”
“Everything but what I brought in my suitcase.”
Her smile fades. “You’re joking.”
I hesitate, realizing I said too much, but Beth picks up on it immediately.
“To be clear, I brought you here so I could get you drunk and pry into your life. You are falling for my plan perfectly.”
I laugh. “I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”
“You’re not,” she insists. “Tell me about the apartment. What happened?”
“It’s less dramatic than it sounds,” I say, uncomfortable. I think about changing the subject, but she just waits, folding her hands on the table. “I’d started renting from MacFarlane a few weeks before it went under,” I explain. “On top of my salary and my savings, it was a perfect storm.”
She’s not quick enough to hide her shock. “They kicked you out of your home?”
“It wasn’t mine,” I say. “It was theirs and they could do what they liked with it.”
“So when you say everything…”
I nod. “And I was one of the lucky ones. Some people had kids and college funds, houses… some lost millions.”
“Millions?” Beth stares at me, her eyes wide. “How much did you lose? Wait! Don’t answer that. That is such a rude question, ugh. Look.” She pushes up her sleeve, showing me her bare arm. “I’m breaking out in hives just thinking about it.”
“I didn’t have millions to begin with,” I assure her. “I wasn’t that high up. I wasn’t even close. I mean, yeah, I was doing okay the last few years, but…” I push down the queasy feeling inside. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”
“It’s because I asked,” she says. “And because people tend to tell me things. I think it’s because I tell them so much. Also this is like fourteen percent, so bottoms up.”
I watch with a smile as she takes an impressive gulp.
“I spent my money at the start,” I tell her.
“I used some early investments to pay off student loans. I gave some to my parents. Plus New York isn’t cheap.
But everything I did have I lost. MacFarlane encouraged us to put our entire lives into their hands.
The more we gave, the more they promised to give back.
It sounds so financially irresponsible now but everyone was doing it. ”
“Then maybe it’s a good thing you got out. They sound awful.”
“They do,” I agree, rotating the glass slowly. “We all knew we weren’t working for UNICEF. We took rich people’s money and made them more money. That was our job.”
“You make it sound so worthwhile,” she jokes.
“I know. And I know how it sounds but I’d give anything to go back to how things were. I feel like I’m lost without the work.”
“Can’t you go somewhere else?”
“I’d love to. I just can’t get anywhere else. Because the layoffs were global, there are thousands of us vying for the same positions and I don’t have the family connections or family money to help me in the meantime. Coming back here was my only real option. At least that’s what it felt like.”
“I don’t get it,” Beth says. “What about your fiancé? Can’t you stay with them? Or did they lose their job too?”
We both glance down at the ring on my finger. I keep forgetting I’m wearing it.
I just want to help .
“I don’t have a fiancé.”
A look of horror crosses her face. “Did they die?”
“No,” I say, choking on my wine. “No, he broke it off.”
Beth’s forehead crumples. “Oh my God, Abby, I’m so sorry.”
“I shouldn’t even be wearing this. I don’t usually.
I didn’t tell my family when it happened.
I couldn’t even think about telling them and then just when I was beginning to get back to normal everything happened at work and I couldn’t hide that from them because the news was everywhere and it’s bad enough losing your job, but the thought of everyone knowing about Tyler on top of that was too—”
“I get it,” Beth interrupts. She reaches across the table to grab my hand, stopping me mid-breakdown. Something in my chest loosens as she squeezes my fingers and I take a large gulp from my glass.
“It’s hard telling people when things go wrong,” she says. “Even if none of what happened is your fault. You know that, right?”
“Sure.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me but I give her a weak smile until she lets me go. “Sorry to problem-vomit all over of you.”
“Do you want to talk about him? Tyler?”
“No.” Yes.
Beth turns serious, seeing right through me. “We’re going to need another round.”
And that’s exactly what we get.
“So he’s just like ‘move back in with me’?” she asks with the exact amount of skepticism I needed her to react with. A fresh bottle sits between us, despite my reminders that I don’t have any money.
“He said he’ll be away on business.”
“Still.”
“I know.”
“That’s weird.”
“I know . Right? Thank you.”
“You think he feels bad?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t want to figure it out. It’s too messy.”
“Do you think he’s still in love with you?”
“No,” I say. “Maybe. I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter because I’m not in love with him.”
“Not even a little bit?”
I shake my head, ignoring how my vision is starting to swim at the edges. “I can’t be. Because of my principles.”
“I completely agree.”
“Plus we’d drifted apart,” I insist, pouring more wine into my glass. “All of last year. Even before we got engaged. In fact, I think he proposed because he knew it too. Like he was trying to bring us back together.”
“Too busy with work?” Beth guesses.
I nod. “There were redundancies at MacFarlane, hindsight now, of course, but back then we didn’t think anything of it.
But it meant I was working more than usual, and on top of that, Tyler signed this big client and it was just crazy.
He was sometimes gone for weeks at a time.
We became one of those couples who saw each other on the weekends but we thought it would be okay. I mean, we discussed it.”
“Discussed it?”
“Yes.” That was what we did. We talked. We were honest with each other and we got to the point of things.
It was how we avoided petty fights, annoying “small talk” as Tyler always called it.
We didn’t waste time because we didn’t have time.
“It was part of our plan,” I explain. “We both knew we were working hard now for a later payoff. We both had demanding jobs. That’s why we worked so well together. Or at least that’s what I thought.”
“You don’t think he cheated on you, do you?”
I shake my head. “He would have told me.”
Beth makes a noise.
“What?”
“You think he would have told you if he cheated on you?”
“Not while it was happening,” I say. “But if that were the reason for breaking up with me then, yes, he would have. Obviously, I’ve had some doubts but I don’t think he would have done that to me.
Hell, I don’t think he had time to. But that still doesn’t mean I’m going to step one foot inside his apartment. Even if he’s not there.”
Beth props her chin on her hand, thoughtful. “What about your friends? Can’t you stay with them?”
“They’re not doing much better than me. Nearly everyone I know worked at MacFarlane. They’re too busy trying to rescue their own lives to help rescue mine as well. And others…” I think to Jess. “I just couldn’t face crawling on my hands and knees to them.”
“Asking for help doesn’t mean you need to crawl.”
“That’s what it felt like.”