Uptown Girl

Kate smiled. ‘Maybe – maybe not. But here you have ambience.’

‘Well, my mother would say “ambience, schmambience, paint my nails”.’

‘You know I love your mother, but sometimes she’s not up-to-date. And by the way, how do you spell schmambience?’ Kate asked with a smile.

‘You don’t,’ Bina told her. ‘It’s Yiddish. It’s a spoken language.’

Kate laughed. This was typical of the verbal exchanges Kate and Bina had been having since Kate first entered the Horowitz household, and Mrs Horowitz pronounced that Kate’s father knew ‘bupkis’ about raising a ‘shana maidela’.

Kate, at the time, didn’t know that ‘bupkis’ meant virtually nothing or that ‘shana maidela’ meant pretty little girl, but she figured it out from context. She learned what ‘putz’ and ‘shnorrer’ and ‘goniff’ meant, all words that sounded better, more accurate, than their English equivalent. And from that time on she had been asking Bina for Yiddish spellings and translations.

Kate had celebrated every holiday at Bina’s house – even if they weren’t Kate’s holidays. And the cultural expansion wasn’t just limited to Jewish events. When Christmas and Easter rolled around, Mrs Horowitz made sure Kate got a Christmas tree and an Easter basket, complete with a chocolate bunny, and just for extra, sweet noodle kugel (which had nothing to do with Easter but was a dish Kate loved). When the time came for Kate’s first Holy Communion, Mrs Horowitz sewed up Kate’s white dress and bought a headpiece. (When Bina wanted a white dress and headpiece too, she got one, though Mrs and Dr Horowitz drew the line at allowing Bina to get on line with the little Catholic girls for the ceremony.) And, though Kate didn’t take the weekly ballet lessons Bina did, she did get a pink tutu just like Bina’s. Not to mention a dozen Halloween outfits over the years. Kate sometimes thought of it as the Costume School of Child-rearing but she was always grateful.

Kate, told by a priest in her catechism class that trick or treating on Halloween was a mortal sin, felt tremendous disappointment. When she shared this with Bina’s mother, the reassurance Kate got was, ‘Sin – schmin! Do your best with that meshugana in a dress and go out to get your candy. Don’t worry about it.’

‘But I don’t want to go to hell after I die,’ Kate told her tearfully.

‘Hell – schmell,’ Mrs Horowitz had responded. ‘Trust me, there’s no such place except here on Earth before you die.’ She raised her voice. ‘Norm, can you believe the chutzpah of these priests and what they say to children.’ She drew Kate onto her lap and held her close. ‘There’s only heaven, honey,’ she whispered. ‘And that’s where your mama is.’

Somehow, Mrs Horowitz’s complete conviction sank in. A few months later, after catechism, when Vicky Brown told Kate and Bina that Bina’s Jewish mother was going to hell after she died, Kate turned to Vicky and declared, ‘Hell – schmell! What do you know?’ Then she pushed Vicky into a pile of garbage cans and made a very satisfying mess of her. ‘Yeah!’ Bina had declared. ‘And if you say that again, we’ll turn you into a toad. And I mean it.’ After that, Kate and Bina made a pact to stick up for one another.

Maybe it was from that day they became known as the ‘Witches of Bushwick’. As teenagers, their posse grew, with Bev and Barbie and, later on, Bunny, but they stayed the same, though in the neighborhood their nickname changed to ‘Bitches’.

Bina was still holding onto Kate’s hand. ‘Oh, Kate,’ she said and squeezed it hard. ‘I’m so excited! Tonight’s the night I get proposed to by the man I love.’

‘Don’t forget to act surprised,’ Kate warned her. ‘You don’t want Jack to know you already knew.’

‘I wish Barbie hadn’t told me that he bought the ring,’ Bina sighed. ‘I’m so nervous. Why couldn’t she just let it be a surprise for me?’

‘Oh, honey,’ Kate laughed. ‘You don’t want surprises. You want to look your best.’

Just then another Asian woman, even more beautiful than the receptionist, walked into the waiting area. ‘Kate Jameson?’ she asked. Kate nodded. ‘We have your room all ready. Follow me, please.’

‘A room?’ Bina repeated, sticking behind Kate as they followed the woman down the pristine hall.

‘Highest luxury,’ Kate told her and led her into their own private boudoir. Bina looked around her, clearly in a state of confusion.

‘Take a seat,’ Kate told her. ‘And just relax.’

Kate sat down in one of two facing chairs. Each was throne-like, with a built-in foot Jacuzzi already filled with delightful-smelling bubbling water. The softly lit room, all in soothing sea blue, also had two glass tables on wheels prepared for hand pampering. Two young Asian women knelt on blue silk pillows on the floor beside the foot baths. They helped their clients out of their shoes and indicated that they should plunge their feet into the fragrant Jacuzzis, in preparation for the pedicure. Bina looked across at Kate in amazement. Kate merely smiled at her. Her plan was working. This would be something Bina never forgot.

The air smelled of freesias and Kate took a deep, appreciative breath. If she had to pay half her salary check for the ‘ambience-schmambience’, it was so worth it.

Bina, still a little dazed, turned to the shelf beside her left elbow and stared at the almost endless rack of nail polishes. The second beautiful Asian woman came back into their blue heaven and asked the pair, ‘Would you like bottled water, coffee, tea, juice or champagne?’

‘You’re kidding!’ Bina almost squealed.

‘Champagne, I think.’ Kate replied as if Bina hadn’t reacted. Bina didn’t usually drink but, ‘This is a big celebration,’ Kate told her.

The woman nodded, smiled, and walked out of the room.

‘Kate, this is so nice of you,’ Bina began. Kate was pleased to see she was beginning to relax. ‘But how come a pedicure? Jack isn’t going to put the ring on one of my toes.’

‘No, Jack would never think of a toe ring,’ Kate agreed. Jack was nothing if not conservative. ‘I just thought it would be a nice treat.’

One of the two pedicurists began to massage Bina’s feet. She giggled, pulled them away, and giggled again.

‘Oh, just relax, Bina,’ Kate told her. ‘Breathe.’ For a moment the two were silent. Kate closed her eyes and let herself feel the strong hands work her heels and instep. It was delicious.

‘This is great!’ Bina leaned forward to whisper across the small room. ‘It’s better than when we both earned the Brownie badge for First Aid on the same day!’ Kate looked at Bina in disbelief. ‘Is this really where Sandra Bullock, Giselle and Gwen Stefanni get their manicures?’ Bina continued.

‘Yup,’ Kate said. ‘And it’s where Kate Jameson and Bina Horowitz have their manicures, too.’

‘Soon to be Bina Horowitz Weintraub,’ Bina reminded her. She was silent for a moment, but Kate was nice enough not to shut her eyes. For, as she expected, in another moment, Bina spoke again.

‘Kate, you know I love Jack so much. I’m just so … so happy today and so glad I’m spending part of it with you.’

Kate smiled at her friend, who was, at that moment, having her cuticles cut.

‘I just want you to find your Jack and be as happy as I am.’

Kate laughed. ‘As your mother would say, “From your lips to God’s ears”.’ Before Bina could speak, the door opened and the woman entered with a tray holding two flutes of champagne. She offered one to Kate and one to Bina. ‘Enjoy!’ she said as she glided from the room.

Kate felt a slight change in her emotional landscape. There was a time when she thought she might be drinking champagne to celebrate something with Steven but she had been very wrong. She wondered if the time would come when she and Michael … She pulled her thoughts away and focused on the moment.

Bina looked at her glass. ‘I don’t think I should start drinking this early in the afternoon.’

Kate rolled her eyes. Bina never wanted to drink. ‘Oh, come on, Bina,’ she said. ‘Live a little.’ She lifted her own flute. ‘May your engagement be as happy as your dating and your marriage even happier than that.’

‘Oh, Kate!’ Bina was clearly touched. Tears softened her brown button eyes. Both girls took a sip of their champagne. Then Kate started looking through the polishes. She narrowed her selection to two but couldn’t decide between them. ‘Boy, I bet Bunny wishes she was in my chair,’ Bina said, leaning back.

‘How is Bunny?’ Kate asked. Bunny was a dental hygienist with a poor record with men. Kate thought of the delicious-looking man they had seen outside. It was hard to imagine Bunny with him.

‘You don’t want to know,’ replied Bina.

Bina was right. Kate didn’t want to know. Bunny was really more Bina’s friend. She’d entered Kate’s life in junior high, taking the Bitches to five, and changing her name to begin with ‘B’ so she’d fit in with the gang. Kate had already drifted a little from the group by then, and though she still went to the movies, dances, and hangouts with all of her crew, she also spent more time studying and reading. While the others were worrying almost exclusively about hair, makeup and boys, Kate was worrying about SAT scores and college scholarships. And when graduation day came, the other Bitches set their sights on non-demanding jobs, good marriages and babies, while Kate declared that she was not just going to ‘sleep away’ college but also intended to graduate to become a doctor of psychology.

As Bev put it, ‘She thinks she’s who the fuck she is.’ If it hadn’t been for Bina, that would’ve been the end of Kate’s association with the Bitches and everyone else in Brooklyn. When Kate left for Brown she truly believed she had left her loneliness, her father’s alcoholism, and her grammar school friends behind. Of course she was wrong on all three counts. Bina made friends for life. At first Kate had resented what she had considered Bina’s ‘clinging’. Then she realized that there was no one who knew her the way that Bina did. And while some of Kate’s other ‘backlash’ from Brooklyn were incidents and memories she’d prefer to drop, for Bina’s undemanding friendship Kate was grateful.

She finished her glass of champagne and was immediately brought another. She realized she was feeling more than a little sentimental as she watched Bina slowly sipping her champagne and trying to repress a giggle every time the pedicurist touched her foot. She was still talking about Bunny.

‘… So the guy drops her like a rock. You saw him. I mean Bunny should have known he wasn’t for her, but she took it hard. And now she’s on the rebound. She’s going out with another guy – Arnie, or Barney, or something – and she’s already telling Barbie they’re getting serious.’

Big news flash. Bunny picked inappropriate man after inappropriate man, always thought they were ‘serious’, and was always wrong. Classic repetition compulsion, Kate thought, but what she said was, ‘Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.’

‘What?’ Bina paused for a minute. ‘Oh! I get it!’ She paused again, then made her voice falsely casual. ‘How are things going with this Michael?’

‘All right,’ Kate said noncommittally and shrugged. She liked to keep a low profile on her dating life with Bina and the others or else the Horowitz family would be sending out engraved announcements. ‘He’s very smart and seems promising. We’re going over to Elliot and Brice’s tonight for dinner.’

‘Who’s Brice?’ Bina asked.

Kate sighed. When it came to Brooklyn, Bina remembered what day of the month each of her friends had their periods, but outside Brooklyn …

‘Elliot’s partner.’

‘Elliot who?’

‘You remember, Elliot Winston. My friend from Brown. The guy I teach with.’

‘Oh yeah. So if he’s a teacher, how does he have a partner?’

‘His life partner, Bina,’ Kate said, exasperated. Bina might live in a small world but she watched television and saw movies.

Bina paused then dropped her voice. ‘Are those guys gay?’

Yeah, and so is your unmarried Uncle Kenny, Kate thought, but all she did was smile tolerantly. So what if Bina’s gender politics were way behind the times. She’d change the subject. ‘So what color are you going to go with? Remember, every shade goes with a diamond!’

‘I don’t know. What have you picked?’

Of course the question was completely irrelevant but Bina was like that. Before she selected anything from a menu she had to know what you were having. Kate shrugged, picked up her selection and tossed it over to Bina. ‘Just for my toes, I think.’

‘God, Kate,’ Bina said as she looked down at the bottle of nail polish that had landed in her lap. ‘That looks like black. You aren’t going Goth, are you?’

Kate shook her head. ‘It is not black, it’s a very deep aubergine.’

‘Is that what it’s called?’ asked Bina.

‘No,’ said Kate. ‘Actually, it’s called Chanel’s Despair.’

‘Well, no wonder,’ replied Bina. ‘If my toes were that color I’d despair, too.’

‘There’s no excuse for you,’ Kate admitted aloud.

‘That is so funny I forgot to laugh,’ Bina responded. ‘But not as funny as your face.’

‘Okay, Bina,’ Kate began. ‘You’re …’

‘I’m rubber. You’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you,’ Bina taunted.

Kate took a sip of her champagne. ‘Why do I feel like I am back in a session with a very troubled eight-year-old?’ she asked.

Bina didn’t say a thing. Kate looked at her and realized her face had changed. It looked … hurt or self-protective.

‘I’m sorry,’ Kate apologized. ‘It’s just I am around kids all day and … well, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.’

‘Oh, no. I’m not hurt,’ Bina assured her. ‘I’m just a little scared. And I can’t think of any more old insults,’ she admitted. ‘Wasn’t there something about a screen door on a submarine?’

‘Same old Bina,’ Kate said, smiling at her irrepressible friend.

‘Same old Katie,’ Bina slurred. The champagne was clearly starting to get to Bina, and, looking at her friend, ready to take such a big yet inevitable step, Kate shivered, though the salon air conditioning was just pleasantly cool rather than cold. Jack had never been her cup of tea – and he certainly was no glass of champagne – but he seemed loving to Bina, her family liked him and … well, looking across at Bina, sweet pedestrian Bina, Kate had to admit that Jack was probably a good match. Kate was torn between bursting into tears and laughing out loud. Bina smiled at her, slightly cross-eyed. ‘I love you, Katie,’ she said.

‘I love you, too, Bina,’ Kate assured her, and it was true. ‘But no more drinks for you. You’ve got a big night ahead of you.’

Bina took a last sip of champagne. Then she leaned over, close to her friend. ‘Kate,’ she whispered. ‘There’s something I’m dying to ask you.’

Kate steeled herself. ‘Yes?’

‘What’s a toe waxing?’ Bina inquired.

Bina’s tone made it sound obscene. Kate laughed. ‘You know how sometimes there is a little bit of hair on the knuckle of your big toe?’ she asked.

Bina pulled her foot out of the Jacuzzi and studied it. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Look at it. Eeuuyew.’ One of the Asian women turned to look at the other and both started to giggle. Bina’s face turned a bright pink. ‘It’s kind of icky,’ she admitted. ‘Like Big Foot. God, Katie, you’re making me feel like a freak. But I never noticed it before.’

‘Well,’ Kate continued, ‘after it’s waxed off, Jack won’t either. You can let him kiss all your little piggies with pride.’

For a while they chatted about Bina’s plans for the wedding, places to go on the honeymoon and a little bit about Michael. Then, after cuticle cutting, more foot massage, filing and the mysterious toe waxing, they were painted and prepared for their manicures. ‘Get your ring finger ready,’ Kate told Bina. ‘So, what color have you decided on?’

Bina turned her attention to the gift bottles from Kate, and the others arranged beautifully along the wall shelf at her elbow. ‘They don’t have most of these colors in Brooklyn,’ she admitted.

‘Just one more reason why I live in Manhattan,’ Kate declared. ‘Step up to the plate. What’s it going to be?’

Bina looked down at the Asian girl already working her left hand. ‘Do you do French manicures?’ she asked her.

5

Kate’s Manhattan apartment was undeniably small, but a delightful haven. She had been lucky to find it: it was in a brownstone on West 19th Street, on a tree-lined block close to the seminary, a very desirable location. The apartment was on the first floor, above street level, and consisted of a large room that had once been a parlor, a small bathroom and smaller kitchen behind it, and then a cozy bedroom.

Because it was on the first floor of the brownstone, Kate had all the advantages of beautiful moldings, mahogany pocket doors, a parquet floor and a marble fireplace which, though it had been bricked up years ago, still looked lovely even if it no longer served any functional purpose. Kate, with her neighbor Max’s help and Brice’s input, had painted the room a color that could almost be called yellow, but was just a little bit lighter than that. Benjamin Moore had called it ‘sunlight’ and the name on the paint chip may have affected her selection as much as the color itself. But it was a happy choice, and even on overcast days like today, the room had a cheery brightness.

The main room faced the back garden – which, unfortunately, belonged to the apartment below – so she had quiet and a green view in summer and a chance to watch the snow in winter. She hadn’t had much money to spend on furniture, but she had splurged on a blue-and-white Chinese rug. Elliot, always alert for bargains, had helped her find and carry home the sofa – a small one with down cushions that she had slip-covered in a blue-and-white awning stripe. Someday she would buy an armchair but in the meantime an old wicker rocker which she had bought in a thrift store and sprayed blue made a comfortable, if slightly rickety, seat. And the yellow cushion on it made a cheerful spot of color.

Max, who lived upstairs, had also helped her put up bookshelves that filled in the recesses on either side of the fireplace. Max was a friend of Bina’s brother and, it turned out, a cousin of Jack’s from Brooklyn and worked on Wall Street. When Kate had heard about the apartment through him they hadn’t known each other well. Kate had rushed over on the day the old tenants moved out and had signed a lease the next afternoon. Max, to whom she would forever be grateful, had been interested in her, but Kate wasn’t that grateful. He was nice and good-looking but they had nothing to talk about, although Max didn’t seem to mind that. And though her father had given her precious little advice about life, he had expressed his philosophy to ‘never crap where you eat’. Kate had interpreted that to mean it was best not to sleep with anyone you worked with, but to paraphrase and extend her father’s concept, she also knew it was best not to crap where you slept, either. While Max was attractive, he didn’t attract her, and she couldn’t be less interested in his Wall Street work. She had managed to handle it all diplomatically, though, and they were good friends as well as good neighbors. Though Max would never need to stop by to borrow a cup of sugar, he might well ask for a cup of coffee, a shot of vodka or, less frequently, a fix-up with some girl Kate knew.

Kate opened the curtains. It looked like rain. She threw her purse down on the sofa and hurried across to her bedroom. The beauty treatment with Bina had taken more time than she expected and she only had a half-hour before Michael came over. Although she had been cavalier about it with Elliot earlier in the day, Kate was actually a little nervous about bringing Michael over. Introducing a boyfriend to Elliot was like taking him home to meet her family, and she wanted everything to go smoothly.

Kate’s bedroom was really just a part of the larger room that had been partitioned off. Its biggest disadvantage was the smallness of its closet. Each spring and fall Kate had to pack up the previous season’s clothes and store them in boxes under the bed to make room for the next.

Kate decided she didn’t have the time to shower, so she selected the Madonna blue sleeveless dress she’d just bought and ran into the bathroom. She had enough time to wash her face, take her hair down, brush the cascades of wavy red that fell below her shoulders and pull out her makeup bag for a quick fix.

She never wore much makeup. Her skin was pale and she’d finally outgrown the tiny freckles, no bigger than pinpoints, that used to dance across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose – a sort of Irish trail. Now, her face was simply creamy, and most of the time she only bothered with lipstick so that her hair didn’t overpower her oval countenance.

Admittedly, as a kid, she had hated her freckles and the shape of her head – when her hair was pulled into pigtails, the kids called her egg-head – but with maturity her cheekbones showed, setting off her eyes, and the frame of her hair around her face pleased her. Because she was seeing Michael, she took out her mascara. She couldn’t wear black because it made her blue eyes stand out like marbles in a plate of milk, so she applied the brown wand carefully to her upper and lower lashes. She blinked in the mirror to make sure she wouldn’t smudge and, because it was a special night, she added a little lip gloss.

She now had only ten minutes before Michael was supposed to arrive, though he was often a little late. That, she’d come to understand, wasn’t because he was disrespectful – Kate hated lateness as a pattern and thought it was a narcissistic trait – but Michael was often so wrapped up in his work and thoughts of his research that he occasionally forgot to get off the subway or overshot the bus stop.

She smiled at the thought of him. He had a good mind, good hands, and a strong jaw. She liked his silver-rimmed glasses, his earnest peering through them and his dedication to his work.

She had only just recently slept with him: she wasn’t usually so prim but her affair with Steven had left her more cautious than she had been before. They had met at her friend Tina’s; Tina and Michael worked at the same university. Tina hadn’t ‘fixed them up’ because she hadn’t thought that Michael was Kate’s type, but since Steven Kate wasn’t sure what her ‘type’ ought to be. Michael’s courtship had been slow but steady and when they had finally taken the plunge, she’d been delighted to find he was caring and generous in bed. It seemed as if he was just as taken with her. But this was the point of the relationship where things could go on for a long time without actually moving forward. Kate had spent two years with Steven, a writer, before they’d broken up eight months ago. She’d been shocked and hurt when she realized that he would never want to marry her or possibly anyone else. She had gone slowly with Michael because she didn’t want to spend another year only to let that happen again.

She sat down on her bed and looked down at her painted toes. For a moment she could even imagine herself envious of Bina, who had her life settled. But she reminded herself that Bina had put in her time with Jack. Kate couldn’t imagine waiting six years for anyone. She knew she wanted children, and would marry just for that. Her life was focused on kids and making their lives better. The work she did with Brian, Clara, Jennifer and the others at Andrew Country Day was satisfying, but, growing up, she’d been denied a normal family of her own and she wanted one. At thirty-one, she wasn’t so old that she had to be frightened of the biological clock, but she had made the decision that she couldn’t afford any more two-year dalliances that merely left her feeling bereft, disappointed and foolish.

Michael seemed solid. They had not yet discussed exclusivity, but as he called her almost every night and since they saw each other regularly, Kate thought the talk would only be a formality. She wasn’t in a rush and wouldn’t make ultimatums. Still, deep down, she wanted to know her goals were shared.

Kate slipped into the silk dress and scrambled under the bed for her high-heeled sandals. Black and strappy, they would show off her newly painted toenails. They were killers to walk in, but she didn’t have to walk far to Elliot’s.