“Right, but you didn’t want the second cat.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And the minute the conversation became more than just surface, you backed down so that you wouldn’t have to fight.”
“Pretty much.” True, I did.
“Well, think about the same sort of thing in a professional situation. You have been asked to do something at work that isn’t your job. You start to say that it shouldn’t be your responsibility, but the person asking you begins to get serious. If you don’t stand your ground, then that person knows that they can bulldoze over you.” No one bulldozes Jill. Even me. Especially me, as we have recently found out.
“So we are looking to talk about the idea of compromise in terms of women
really
asking for it, as its core meaning. That you might not get all of what you want or need, but that you shouldn’t settle for none.”
“Well, don’t you think so?”
Our producer, John, points to the phones, which now have enough calls waiting that we are safe to open the lines.
“Well, forget what I think, let’s see what Candice thinks. Candice, you’re having
Lunch with the Spinster Sisters
. What’s on your plate?” It’s our signature line. I made it up myself. Isn’t it too adorable? We even have T-shirts and memo pads.
“Hi, Jodi! Hi, Jill! I can’t believe I got through!” She sounds very excited and potentially Southern. The magic of satellite radio; she could be anywhere.
“Hi, Candice,” Jill says. “What do you have for us?”
“Well, my boyfriend and I have been talking about getting engaged, but we have a problem. If we have kids, he really wants to send them to a Catholic school, but I’m not Catholic, and I would want to send them to public school. So I’m not sure what to do.”
“Good question, Candice.” I pause for a moment. “Does this appear to be about religious upbringing or quality of education?”
“I think it is about religious upbringing. And my feeling is that I’d like my kids to have a more diverse experience than I think they would get in a parochial school setting, and not have such an enormous amount of religion mixed in with the education. It really makes me think about whether we should get married or not.”
“How about this,” Jill says. “Why don’t you agree to find a community that has the sort of diverse representation in the schools that you are looking for but also has a high quality of education, and then agree that your kids can go to Sunday school to reinforce the ideals that are important to your husband. Maybe even agree to find a church you can all attend together, maybe Lutheran or Unitarian, and promise your husband that you can get involved in the church community and attend regularly. Would you be willing to make those efforts in order to keep your future kids in a public school environment?”
“I never thought about getting more involved in a church, but yes, I do think I could do that!”
“Candice,” I say. “Talk to your boyfriend about it, and be sure to outline why you are hesitant to commit to parochial education. Be sure that he knows you aren’t rejecting him or his beliefs. Let him know the compromises you are willing to make, and see what he says.”
“I will! I will tonight. Thank you guys so much; I wait for your show all week long!”
“Thank you, Candice,” Jill says. “And call or e-mail us to let us know how the conversation goes!”
“I will! Bye, Jill! Bye, Jodi!”
“You’re having
Lunch with the Spinster Sisters
,” I say. “And we want to know what’s on your plate. We’re talking about compromise today. We have to take a quick break so that you can hear a couple of messages from our sponsors, but we’ll be right back. And don’t forget, this Friday night over on channel 150, the comedy channel, host Sonny Fox will be interviewing Mitch Fatel on
Stand Up, Sit Down
. This is one of our favorite shows, and Mitch is about the most hilarious comic we’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. Don’t miss it. We’ll be right back.”
John gives us a thumbs-up from the booth, Jill and I touch fingertips, our version of a high five, and we get ready to take some more calls.
Things have been good today, we’re cooking along and the show is almost over. Just time for one more call. John indicates we’re coming back from our last break.
“This is Jodi Spingold.”
“And this is Jill Spingold, and you’re having
Lunch with the Spinster Sisters.
Today we’re all about compromise. And we have our last caller on the line.”
“Mary Louise, we want to know what’s on your plate?”
“Hi, Jill. Hi, Jodi. I was wondering, in all of this conversation about compromise, why don’t you talk about compromising the stability of the American family unit by encouraging women to have unrealistic expectations of relationships and by endorsing a single lifestyle?”
Jill and I look at each other. We’ve had hostiles, as we call them, get through the switchboard before. Jill nods that she’ll take the lead.
“Mary Louise, we’re glad you called, because it allows us to put to rest some rumors about this very thing. We don’t suggest that women should stay single for any longer than makes sense for them and their lives. Nor do we look down on relationships. We do want women to enjoy their lives regardless of their marital or relationship status, and we also want them to know that they shouldn’t commit themselves unless it is the right partner for them.”
“That is very glib, and clearly rehearsed. You are here, in the public eye, on the air, and in your books, and you are telling women that single is better and that if you decide to pursue a relationship, that it should be perfect in every way! What man can live up to that? Does your fiancé live up to that idea, or do you just say whatever you think people want to hear and live your own life different?”
“My fiancé is a wonderful man, who is perfect for me, which is not the same thing as perfect. And Jodi and I both live our lives by the philosophies we espouse publicly. We are sorry if you have misinterpreted our advice, but we want to assure you and all of our readers and listeners that our only motivation is to be a resource and a support for women, and if you disagree with our pedagogy, you should truly feel free to ignore us!” I can sense Jill getting testy, and decide we’d better end this.
“Mary Louise, we’re sorry, but we’re getting the signal that we are out of time for today, but we appreciate your call. Thank you all for letting us join you for lunch. We’ll look forward to hearing what’s on your plates next week, same time, here on XM 187.”
“We’re out,” John says into our headphones.
And so we are.
“So then Jill says, ‘I agree that doggie style isn’t much of a compromise; have you thought about getting a copy of the
Kama Sutra
and exploring other positions that might make you more comfortable?’ and I had to try not to laugh!” I’m trying to explain the day’s best call to the aunts at cocktail hour, since they were both away from the radio today.
“My goodness. What a question!” says Shirley, passing a plate to me. “Have some more spanakopita.” Like I need more phyllo triangles in my life. But they are too delicious to pass up. Aunt Shirley finally finished the hors d’oeuvres book and is working on a Greek cookbook, so today’s feast is the aforementioned spinach-feta triangles; skordalia, a garlicky potato dip with toasted pita; little spicy meatballs called keftedes; and huge white beans in tomato sauce. We’re drinking retsina, the fortified Greek wine.
“Well, really, they should be looking at the
Kama Sutra
anyway,” says Ruth. “Any couple that is arguing about missionary or woman on top at this stage of the game is going to be doomed to boredom.”
Jill snorts into her wineglass.
“Don’t snuffle wine up your nose, darling; it’s bad for the sinuses.” Shirley never misses a beat.
“Well, compromise is such a big issue for women, I’m glad it’s something you girls are really discussing,” Ruth says. “In our day, the very idea that a woman would even get a choice was absurd.”
“But you guys didn’t compromise on the life you wanted to live,” I say. “You knew what would be best for you, and you let the world adapt to you.”
Shirley laughs. “Hear that, Ruthie? The world just adapted to us!”
“Do you really think it was our ambition to live with our parents our whole lives?” Ruth says, taking a sip of her wine. “We had three choices at the time: get married, live at home, or move out on our own and be thought of as loose women or lesbians, shunned by friends and family. You forget how conservative a time it was. And by the time it became socially acceptable for single women to live their own lives and have their own space, Mama and Papa were elderly and ailing and needed us around to help. So no, we didn’t compromise what was most important, our independence, but we did give up plenty in order to protect that.”
“Enough of this, too morbid,” Shirley says.
Jill turns to me. “Hey, I want to hear your big new merchandising idea.” I had tipped off Jill that I had a flash earlier in the day that I wanted to save for cocktail hour. We do this a lot. Sometimes if she and I talk things through, we can talk each other into something, and then when we take it to the aunts, if they don’t like it, we gang up and get defensive. This way, everyone gets their initial impulses out on the table without choosing sides. She and I are having a truce at the moment; things are still strained, but we are trying to get back to normal. The day after Thanksgiving we went into the office and really hashed out our issues. We both obviously still think the other was more in the wrong, but at least we got relatively on the same page and have forgiven each other. But it is still hard to forget, so we have both been on our very best behavior, ultrasupportive, ultracommunicative, and ultimately sort of fake. But mending. I hope.
“Okay, here goes.” I’m about to be either a genius or an idiot. Jill usually has the merchandising ideas, but every once in a while something comes to me. “So you know how so many of our gals eat lunch at their desks?”
“Terrible for the digestion,” Shirley clucks.
“Hush, Shirley, let the girl speak,” Ruth scolds.
“So I thought, what about a Spinster Sisters sort of kit that they can use to bring their lunch in a way that allows for a little of that taking-care-of-themselves aspect to even something as basic as having to eat at your desk. So like, we do a fun insulated bag with the logo on it, and inside we can do custom Tupperware in our signature colors, just three or four basic pieces, and matching silverware. But real silverware, not plastic. And then, the pièce de résistance, microwave-safe plate and bowl that they can leave at work so that they can actually eat on a real plate like a human being, and those have What’s on Your Plate? printed on them.”
The silence is maddening. Then Jill’s face breaks into a grin. “I
love
it! It’s awesome. We can do different versions, color combinations, maybe a deluxe kit with real porcelain and silver?” Her enthusiasm seems a little over-the-top, but maybe I’m just having some residual trust issues.
“You should do an afternoon tea kit with one of those heating elements that sits right in the glass, with little boxes for loose teas and sugar, maybe a tiny squeeze bottle for honey . . .” Aunt Shirley always gets lit up thinking about people getting a decent cup of tea during their busy day.
“You could put little recipe books in there, or even pamphlets about ten-minute meditations or at-your-desk stretches or those kinds of things.” Ruth gets into the moment.
“So I’m not crazy. It could be cool, right?” I’m really chuffed that they all like it.
“It’s so cool! I think we should take it to the team tomorrow and do a huge brainstorming of all the possible kits we could do, and then have the merchandising group start to price it out. We could try to get it done in time to launch with the new book.” Jill is already thinking logistics, which is why she is so damned good at her job. And making me think perhaps that she isn’t placating me, that she really likes my idea.
“Well, a toast to a new venture. Sounds like you girls are going to have another hit on your hands.” Ruth raises her wineglass at us. We all clink and sip and refill plates.
“Now, Jill, we should start to talk details about the wedding. What have you decided so far?” Shirley has been really good about not pushing too hard about wedding details past the date and approximate guest count, but with the date now only five and a half months off, it is definitely time to get going. I myself am sort of ambivalent. On the one hand, usually nothing is more fun than the four of us planning a party. On the other, it brings the whole married thing into very clear relief for me and reinforces all the crap that is going on at work.
“Well,” Jill says, “we were thinking that we’d do it at A New Leaf.”
“The flower store?” Ruth asks.
“Yeah. They have a space now where you can have private parties, and it is really beautiful.” She smiles.
“Oh, dear. It will be like getting married in a garden!” Shirley says.
“I think it’s a perfect choice,” I say. “It’s so you.”
“It was Hunter’s idea.” Jill grins. “He is so into the whole wedding. I swear. He’s like one of those girls who keeps a folder of all the things they dream about for their wedding. He has ten ideas for each one of mine.”
“Oh Lord,” I say. “It’s going to be like having two brides!”
The four of us laugh, thinking about sweet Hunter, with his naturally eager and positive nature, getting all worked up about the perfect wedding. If nothing else, I know she isn’t making a bad decision about who to marry. Unlike me.
“Well, what other ideas are the two of you bandying about?” Ruth asks.
“We’re thinking afternoon with a heavy cocktail hour and a light supper. No idea about caterers yet. Obviously A New Leaf will do the flowers. And if it’s not too much trouble, Aunt Shirley, we’d love you to do the cake.”
Shirley places her hand on her heart and smiles as her eyes start to shimmer. “I’d be so honored, darling, so honored.”