“You forget, my goal is to never do an interview again.”
If Sylvia arrives back and I’ve screwed this up, she will fire me into next year. I think again of the fold-out couch in my parents’ basement; maybe it’s waiting for me. I take a rare moment to pray.
Melanie the Temp is never impressed by my company loyalty. “Picked out your Providence town house already? Prepaid that burial plot, too? Ew, Ruthie. We need to focus on the Sasaki Method pronto and get you back out into the land of the living.” She turns to leave.
“Hey, wait a second. I want all of the Sasaki Method stuff to be just between us after work. There’s no way I want them to find out we’re goofing off. So I think we need to keep a line between us and Teddy.”
“I agree. I think he’s a test.”
“A test from PDC?” I never thought of that.
“No, a test sent by the dating gods. It’s like when you go to the grocery store really hungry. If you don’t have your list with you, you’ll end up in front of the cake cabinet, picking out a Black Forest to eat in the car. What’s on your shopping list?”
I know what kind of answer I’m supposed to give. “Granola and toilet cleaner.”
She hoots. “Exactly. We’ll apply the same lesson to men. Some are yummy but just no good for you. I know he’s been hanging around your place. You come up an awful lot in his dreams, by the way.”
I want to know, but I don’t even blink. “He’s not a test. We’re neighbors.”
“I talked to him in the office the other day when you were up visiting Mrs. Tuckmire. I asked him if he’s ever been in love.” Melanie looks away, nibbling her bottom lip.
I now seem to have a rusty hacksaw slid between some of my major organs. If she says another sentence, it’s going to wobble and slip sideways. “It’s none of my business. Or yours for that matter, Melanie Sasaki.”
“It was the way he laughed at the question that made me feel really … sad. He said he didn’t have it in his DNA to love someone properly and forever.” This sounds a lot like a warning and I prickle with embarrassment. She begins walking back to the office. “Remember your shopping list,” is what she calls over her shoulder. “No bingeing.”
It’s a timely reminder because a car cake is now all I want. I’d make it real romantic, up at a lookout, the city lights sparkling below. All my buttons and zips loosened. My moans would fog that car UP.
Fast footsteps approach. Teddy is jogging along the path, trailed by Renata on her scooter. I walk out to greet them. “What’s happening?” Teddy gives me a friendly eyebrow raise and jogs right on past, my heart hot on his heels.
“He got sassy with me, so I’ve decided he needs to get some energy out. Do a lap of the lake, I’m watching you.” Renata watches with evil satisfaction. His back is straight and the entire effect is of light ease. His hair gleams like a black cherry. I need to stop noticing any of him. But: Teddy’s in good shape.
“I don’t know about that,” Renata says. (I said that out loud? Oh no.) “He makes an awful lot of fuss about his morning start time so I’m overhauling his lifestyle. He’s making himself a kale and tofu smoothie after this.”
“Such cruelty.”
“I’m a wonderful employer,” Renata defends herself. When she says, slow and sly, “Well, well,” I realize I’ve been watching Teddy for probably an entire minute without replying.
Even with Renata’s speculative eyes on me, I can’t stop myself. He’s so interesting. An eye magnet. He’s the only thing worth staring at. He’s come across a pair of residents walking on the path; now he’s jogging backward slowly as he talks to them. His laugh rings out across the water, right through me.
“Well, well,” Renata repeats. “I don’t know how I feel about this.”
I wrench my eyes off him and wave at Mrs. Penbroke as she passes us on her scooter. “Don’t forget, Stitch and Bitch is on soon.”
“I won’t, Ruthie,” Mrs. Penbroke calls back. “I’m bringing my needlepoint. And something to bitch about.” She gives Renata a hard stare.
“Two dollars for the fund-raising tin, too, if you can please.” Knowing how much the residents drink, my fund-raising for the Christmas party starts on New Year’s Day.
“Focus,” Renata snaps at me, tapping the arm of her sunglasses on her scooter. “I heard from a little bird that you are putting yourself on the meat market shortly. She’s asked me to create a look-book for your makeover.” Renata looks me up and down. “How do you feel about the design direction at Valentino?”
Dammit, Melanie. Renata will spill everything to Sylvia.
“Yes, it’s true, I was thinking of starting to date, but the new owners of Providence are conducting a big review of our management processes, and Sylvia is away almost until Christmas. I’ll be focused on the review PDC has asked me to do.” Listen to me, being responsible. “I’ve also got the Christmas party to organize. You’ve never come to it, but it’s a huge event. I don’t think I can handle everything.” As I say it out loud, I realize it’s true. “I’ve got no experience in trying for a work-life balance.”
“You’re a smart girl. You can do everything, and besides, you’ve already got a crush. Here he comes.”
“Let me guess, another lap,” Teddy says and jogs past before she can reply. I feel a shimmer of energy when he passes me.
“You cannot imagine the satisfaction one feels in moments like that,” Renata says as she pretends to hold binoculars up. “It’s like my horse is out in front at the Kentucky Derby. I raised him from a foal, and now look at him go.”
“I don’t have a crush on Teddy. He’s nothing like what I’d go for, or vice versa.” I’m scared to ask this. “Is he going to last?”
“He might need to walk if he gets a stitch.”
“You know what I mean.”
Renata says with a deep sigh, “Unfortunately, I think he may complete two weeks of employment.”
“Isn’t he doing your chores and laundry?” I have to hold the words in: He’s helping you. Accept the amazing thing dropped into your life, you silly old woman. I suppose the same could be said for me, being blessed with Melanie.
“He’s depressingly competent at all that,” is all Renata will say before she changes gears. “May I give you an elderly person life lesson? Good. Life is only bearable if you have someone attractive to complain to. If I didn’t have my Aggie, I would not have survived the 1990s. Karl Lagerfeld, I will see you in hell.”
I laugh. “Okay. Thanks for the advice.”
She nods over at the lake. “You remind me so much of Aggie. She’s made of the same stuff as you. That’s how I know you will have very hurt feelings when this one gets the keys to his tattoo studio and rides off five hours in some direction without so much as a backward glance.”
“I hope I find someone who suits me. I’d like to have someone attractive to complain to when I’m your age. Which is not old,” I rush to clarify.
Renata pats my arm. “I am as old as dirt. Here he comes, sounding very unfit. He’s put in the effort on his so-called last lap. Little does he know— ”