Page 65 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
I mean, the literal messes part is true, but I wonder if that’s been as intentional as I’ve accused him of. After all, I had to figure out how to clean up after myself once I didn’t have access to hired help anymore.
Along with the firehouse of second thoughts blasting me, I’m wrangling with guilt that, after he called me privileged, I left the garbage bag full of sushi in his room. That would have been bad enough, but I also turned the heat up as high as it would go to make the fish smell even worse.
By the time I got to my bus stop, I’d calmed down enough to realize I’d done something I might regret. I was actually relieved when I spotted his hard-to-miss platinum hair and his bright blue chenille patch Rhude sweats. I worried he might be coming to retaliate, or at least yell at me. I could have justified my actions if he had.
But then he went into Starbucks and stayed there. Every time I glanced in the direction of the store, he was watching me, which was almost as weird as him going to Starbucks for coffee. He’s too loyal to Frothed to cheat on Britta with any other coffee shop.
And, yet, how many times—including this morning—have I accused him of being just like Malcolm?
That’s not fair. Archie is loyal to the people he cares about. That’s his best quality.
He has others, but if he hadn’t looked at me the way he did just now, as the bus pulled away, I’d still be worried about what he was planning to do to me. Now, I wonder if he hasn’t found the sushi yet and was here to make sure I got on the bus okay. And he’ll go home to a bag of rotting fish and wasabi in his bedroom.
So, while I listen to the woman who pretended to be my grandma and rescued me from the men Archie had reason to be concerned about, I desperately text Stella to ask if she has Archie’s number.
My puddle of guilt grows to pool-size the farther away my bus gets from Archie until I’m swimming in it. I was mad that he’d called me privileged when the garbage was full of uneaten sushi. I was mad that he’d put my coffee up higher than I could reach. I was mad that he mentioned the cash settlement again.
But mostly I was mad that every nice thing he does for me is going to make it harder to say goodbye.
I’m still mad about that, which is ridiculous.
I pick it apart like the seam of an old garment I want to make into something new. As I do, I discover what I’m actually feeling isn’t angry, but anxious. I don’t want to say goodbye to Archie just as I’m finally getting to know him.
The idea occurs to me that just because Malcolm and Mom want to permanently end their relationship, I don’t have to end mine with Archie. We can be…friends.
I sit with that for a minute and some of my anxiety slips away, but not all of it. While the idea of friendship is appealing, there’s something still missing. Like a dress design that needs one more pop of color.
Every few seconds, I check whether Stella has texted back with Archie’s number. There’s so much I want to apologize for, even beyond the sushi. For getting defensive and accusing him of being like Malcolm. For telling him he’s not responsible for what Malcolm’s done, then treating him like he is. For being a giant hypocrite.
Stella doesn’t text back, and I don’t know who else to ask. The number I have for Frankie is an old one that she doesn’t use anymore. I carry worry and guilt all the way to my drop off point, where I loudly tell “Grandma” goodbye so the creepers on the bus hear. They were disrespectful enough to say some inappropriate things to me, but respectful enough to stop when they thought I was with my elderly grandmother.
The block to Valente might be the longest walk of my life while I wait for Stella to answer my text. As I take the elevator to my floor, I check my phone again for a message from her—still nothing—and circle back to my reaction when Archie called me privileged.
The truth is, his pointing out my own privilege stung. He opened my eyes to the hard truth that I’m living in the beach house for free, too. I haven’t done any more than he has to earn it. Even less than him, to be honest.
I’m not rich, but when Mom married Malcolm, suddenly I got to attend exclusive private schools and had nannies to pick me up at the end of the day. I had private tutors, private tennis coaches, private swimming lessons in our own pool. Even private after-hours shopping trips to luxury stores a time or two when Mom didn’t want to deal with crowds.
If I’m totally honest with myself, Archie wasn’t wrong when he called me privileged. I haven’t wanted to admit it because he’s had even more advantages than I have, but privilege is privilege.
After everything she gave up to be what Malcolm wanted her to be, Mom deserves the beach house. Malcolm should pay for the way he’s treated her. But, ultimately, giving the beach house to Mom is Malcolm’s way of avoiding any suffering or consequences. Archie is the one who gets the consequences instead.
And that sucks.
What sucks even more is thatI’mguilty of adding to the crap Malcolm is putting Archie through because I refuse to consider an alternative or mention Archie’s idea to Mom.
At the end of the hall, I turn into the large open office I share with three other interns and Anna. Anna catches my eye and waves me to her desk. We’re the only two there, but she leans across her desk and whispers. “Can you do lunch?”
“Uh, I’m not sure.” My phone vibrates in my purse, and I check it. Stella has sent Archie’s contact info and I smile with relief.
“I found out where the fabrics with defects go that you asked me about.” Her eyes dart back and forth. “I also have the proofs for Valente’s Fall line, and Ireallythink you should see them.”
Arianna, one of the senior execs, walks in before I can ask Anna what she means, but her tone and her look both warn me not to say anything.
“I’ll be in here today,” Arianna says before sliding into the workspace I’ve been using to sort through cuts of fabric, looking for defects. She tosses the pile of “good” cuts into the bin with the cuts that have defects, undoing two days of work I’ve done on the project.
With a sigh, I tuck my phone away, then pick up the bin and move to a smaller space before going back for the other fabric I still need to check.
I spend the entire morning searching for fabric defects while also waiting for an opportunity to text Archie an apology for both putting sushi in his room and needing to cancel lunch. I can’t take out my phone with Arianna in the room. I want her to see me at my very best, even if it’s just looking at fabric. But Anna’s warning has me worried, and as much as I’d love to have lunch with both Frankie and Archie, I need to talk to her. Besides that, once Archie knows what I’ve done, I doubt he’ll want to spend one second with me. Hopefully, a text apology will smooth things over enough that I can apologize in person when I get home.
