Page 54 of Maybe in Another Life

“The Camry’s fine,” I say. I already test-drove it. I’ve asked all the right questions. They want ninety-five hundred dollars for it. I tell him I’ll give him seventy-five hundred. We go back and forth. He gets me up to eight. He keeps going to his manager to get new negotiating numbers. Eventually, the manager comes over and whines about how little I am willing to pay for the car.

“If I sell it to you for less than eighty-five hundred, I won’t make any money off the deal,” he says. “You know, we need to make money. We can’t just be giving cars away.”

“OK,” I say. “I guess we can’t make this work.” I get up out of the chair and grab my purse.

“Sweetheart,” the manager says, “don’t be crazy.”

This is why Gabby has to keep talking about women’s rights and gender equality. It’s because of dipshits like this.

“Look, I told you I’d pay eight thousand even. Take it or leave it.”

Carl is an excellent negotiator. Really cutthroat. When I was a senior, Carl would take either Gabby or me to do all of his negotiating so we learned how to haggle. Mechanics, salesmen, plumbers, you name ’em, Carl made us negotiate prices with them directly. When Carl’s Jeep needed a new set of wheels, he stood out around the corner from the shop as I went in and tried to talk the guy down on his behalf. When I’d go back out to him to report the new price, Carl would shake his head and tell me I could do better. And I always did. I was especially proud when the tire guy threw in a free car detailing after my prodding. Gabby once got the guy repairing the hot-water heater to come down five hundred bucks. Carl and Tina took us out to Benihana that night to celebrate the victory.

Carl has always said that people who don’t haggle are suckers. And we aren’t suckers.

“I’m buying a car today. Doesn’t have to be from you,” I say to the manager.

The manager rolls his eyes. “All right, all right,” he says. “Eighty-one hundred, and it’s a deal.”

I shake his hand, and they start drawing up the paperwork. I put three thousand down and drive off the lot with a car. There goes most of my money. But it’s OK. Because I have a plan.

When I get far enough from the dealership, I pull over to the side of the road and start hitting my hands against the steering wheel, yelling into the air, trying to get out all the nervous energy that’s in me.

I’m doing this. I’m making a life for myself. I amdoingthis.

I call Carl at his office.

“Hello!” he says, his voice buttery and pleased to hear from me. “Tell me you’re taking the job.”

“I’m taking the job.”

“Outstanding. I’m going to put you on the phone with Joyce, our HR person here. She will talk to you about a start date, salary, benefits, all of that good stuff. If you don’t talk her up to at least forty-two, I’m going to be disappointed in you.”

I laugh. “I just paid eighty-one hundred for a ninety-five-hundred-dollar car. I got this. I promise.”

“That’s what I want to hear!” he says.

“Carl, seriously, thank you for this.”

“Thankyou,” he says. “Honestly. This worked out perfectly. Rosalie showed up an hour and a half late this morning and didn’t even bother with an excuse. She denies it, but a patient told me last week that she swore at them. So I’m eager to let her go, and I’m just glad we don’t have to go through résumés to replace her.”

I laugh. “All right,” I say. “I’m excited to start working with you...boss.”

He laughs and puts me through to Joyce. She and I talk for about thirty minutes. She says she’s going to give Rosalie notice. So my start date will be in two weeks. But if Rosalie decides not to stay the two weeks, the job could start sooner. I tell her I’m OK with that.

“That’s why sometimes it really is best to hire someone you know,” Joyce says. “I know I’m in HR and I’m supposed to say that you should vet all the applicants, but the truth is, when you have a personal connection, it just makes it easier to be flexible.”

She offers me forty thousand, and, hot off the trail of my car purchase, I talk her up to forty-four. I get full health benefits. “And the good news,” she says, “is that we cover the rest of your family at a very low cost.”

“Oh,” I say. “Well, it’s just me.”

“Oh, OK,” she says. “And you’ll have two weeks’ paid vacation a year and, of course, maternity leave if necessary.”

I laugh. “Won’t be necessary,” I say.

She laughs back. “I hear you.”

We finish discussing odds and ends, and soon everything is settled.

---