Uptown Girl (16 page)

‘Wow! You look great!' Bev said, breaking the silence.

Then Elliot gave an excellent wolf whistle (Kate wondered what, if anything, he had used that for) and Barbie, Brice and Bunny began to applaud. Kate joined in.

‘Okay, so now all we have to do is bring you over to Billy and serve you up on a platter,' Elliot said.

‘How?' Bina asked, as if playing the trussed fowl on a plate came naturally.

‘We go to his place of business,' Elliot said. ‘A bar in Williamsburg…'

‘Is that where he works?' Kate interrupted. Elliot ignored her and laid out the time, the rendezvous spots, the assault on the watering hole, and all the rest as if he were the Iron Duke planning an invasion.

‘Now, not that you can't do it, but let me come over and do a touch-up to your hair and makeup before Saturday,' Brice said. ‘And I'll have a surprise for you.'

‘I'll hafta be surprised later,' Bev said. ‘I need to get home for my Johnnie. And I can't walk another block. Hey, Barbie, I know Libras have an overdeveloped sense of ownership, but maybe you want to share a cab back to Brooklyn?' she asked.

‘Sure, Bev,' Barbie said, ignoring the comment. ‘Bunny, are you in?'

‘If you're sure, then all right, Barbie,' Bunny said hesitantly, apparently taking the fact that Barbie was a Libra to heart. No one but Bunny had ever paid any attention to Bev and her astrological nonsense. Kate looked at Bunny, and wondered if she had put the weight back on during her honeymoon. Kate thought the idea of a honeymoon in days when most couples live together before marriage was ridiculous and sometimes not healthy. Travel often put a lot of stress on people, and time completely alone for days and days when a couple wasn't used to it created pressures that caused ‘Honeymoon Remorse', a sort of minor depression that descended after the excitement and hoopla over the wedding had ended and the focus changed abruptly.

Kate wondered if she'd like to go on a ‘honeymoon' with Michael. They had spent one weekend at the Jersey shore, which had been pleasant. Two weeks, though…

Kate brought her focus back to the party that was breaking up. Barbie, Bunny, and Bev got up to leave. ‘We'll see you all later,' Barbie told them. ‘Oh, Bina, I'm so excited for you. Good clothes open all doors.'

Kate tried not to laugh or cry. How had Barbie's mother known in advance how to name her so accurately?

There were many kisses and hugs. They all hugged Bina hard and the three women disappeared out the front door.

Bina was left with Brice and Elliot, who were walking her to the subway. At last Kate was left alone. She wondered, as she took off her clothes, ran a tub, combed her hair and brushed her teeth, what Dr and Mrs Horowitz would say when Bina walked in the door. Mrs Horowitz had a mild heart condition, some minor mitral valve problem, and Kate wondered, for a moment, if their daughter's makeover might cause an infarction.

It wasn't until she was in bed, just at the edge of sleep, that she wondered again what she would look like after a makeover. Then she closed her eyes and slept – poorly – for the rest of the night.

The following Friday, Kate sat in her office across from two identical twin boys wearing identical green corduroys and white T-shirts, each with the same picture of a Tyrannosaurus Rex clawing across their chests. Each had a name tag stuck to his shirt – one reading ‘James' and the other, ‘Joseph'. Kate was perched on the front of her desk purposely to appear to tower over the two small third-graders. The three of them had been talking for a while already and Kate thought she'd cleared up the situation.

‘Now, I am going to take you back to Mrs Gupta's class, James,' she said, pointing at one of the boys – the one who was wearing the ‘Joseph' name tag. ‘And you, Joseph, are to go back to Mrs Johnson's…' she said sternly to the other boy. ‘Where each of you belong,' she added.

The Reilly twins were good boys, well behaved and intelligent. But they had been assigned separate classes this year with the consent of their
parents and, since the separation, they had developed a bad habit of fooling not only their classmates but their teachers and even Mr McKay about their identities. They switched at will, but when Kate suggested to their parents that the third-graders might be better off if they dressed individually instead of in matching clothing they had insisted that it was up to the boys and they still wanted to dress alike.

Lately, the mischief had escalated, but Kate felt her talk about trust and fooling people had penetrated into the strange and interesting world of twinship. ‘So we're agreed?' she asked.

Just then the phone rang. Kate turned her back to the twins and reached for the receiver. ‘Dr Jameson,' she answered.

‘Dr Jameson? This is Dr Bina Horowitz. I'll be at your office ready for our conference tomorrow at six. I've been told we have to consult with Dr Brice first,' Bina said.

‘No one is listening in, Bina,' she told her friend. Years of eavesdropping by her mother on the extension had made Bina paranoid. ‘Come on over for Operation Ridiculous. I'll be there at five. Gotta go. I'm working.'

Kate hung up and turned back to the twins. ‘I want the two of you to exchange your name tags now,' she said. They nodded, peeled off the stickybacked strips and handed them to one another contritely. Her phone rang again. She sighed and turned her back on the twins who quickly
re-traded name tags and seats.

‘A Dr Michael Atwood is here to see you,' Louise, the secretary from the front office, informed Kate in her nasal voice.

‘Thanks, I'll be right out,' she said, and laid down the receiver. This was unexpected. Kate wondered what had prompted such a spontaneous visit. An emergency? Michael was nothing if not a man of routine. She'd seen him go, step by unchanging step, through his morning ritual: plugging in the coffee maker he had prepared the night before, turning on the shower, brushing his teeth while he waited for the hot water to hit the shower head, and so on. In a way she admired it, since he, unlike her, never forgot his cell phone, misplaced his glasses, left his bed unmade or his coffee mug unwashed in the sink. She also knew, of course, that too much of that behavior became obsessive-compulsive and it always masked deeper fears of reality and the uncontrollable nature of life. But she thought, in Michael's case at least, it was more a demonstration of his good service and organizational skills. He was stable, rather than a madman about to spin out of control if he forgot to straighten a sheet or wake up exactly at seven thirty.

Kate's mind was so preoccupied with these thoughts that she didn't notice the twins' subterfuge. ‘Remember,' she said to them absently, ‘it isn't just a trick to switch places. It's unkind to fool people. And after you fool them, they won't
trust you when you want them to. Understand?' Normally, Kate wouldn't have repeated herself to Joseph and James, but she was a little thrown by this surprise and was anxious to hear what Michael had to say.

The twins nodded innocently. She jumped down from her desk and took each boy by the hand. She led them out the door and down the hall, at the end of which Michael was standing. He gave her a big, if somewhat sheepish, smile. Kate didn't acknowledge it and instead stopped in front of a classroom door and nodded for ‘James' to go in. ‘Joseph' let go her other hand, gave her a triumphant smile, and raced to another door on the opposite side of the hall.

Only then did Kate smile back and walk up to Michael. ‘Nice surprise,' she said, reinforcing his spontaneous behavior. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘I thought I'd see you in action. Very stern.' He smiled. ‘You're such a natural with kids.'

‘Thanks,' Kate replied. She wondered – just for a moment – if he ever thought of her as a mother of his children but stopped herself. It was too early for that.

‘You almost ready to go?' he asked. ‘Do you mind that I dropped by?'

‘Not at all,' Kate said. ‘I like it.' And she did.

‘I have something else I wanted to show you before tonight,' Michael said, reaching into his briefcase. He pulled out an academic journal with a bit of a flourish.

‘Oh, Michael! Your article!' He had been working on this piece for months. He had even gone into the field for research. It meant a lot to him, and to his career. Kate was delighted for him.

‘Hot off the press from the University of Michigan's
Journal of Applied Sciences,
' he said proudly.

Kate gave him a big hug. ‘I'm so pleased for you,' she said. ‘What a great surprise!' She took the journal and opened it at the article. He had already marked the page with a bright red sticker. She smiled at that. There were things about him that were…surprisingly childlike. It was endearing rather than immature.

They walked back to her office. ‘That's the very first copy,' he told her. ‘I thought as soon as you were done here we could go out for a drink and then maybe dinner.' She smiled at him and nodded. ‘I'm looking forward to our weekend,' he said, put his arm around her and nuzzled her neck. She felt his stubble tickle her and giggled, just as Mr McKay appeared at the door.

‘Excuse me,' he said.

Michael pulled away and Kate did her best not to look like a guilty schoolgirl. In fact, she found herself having to suppress a smile since Mr McKay's face clearly showed his confusion as well as his disapproval. She could imagine him trying to decide if she was two-timing Elliot or had moved on, slutlike, to a new man. Since it wasn't his business, she smiled at him. ‘Yes, Mr McKay?'

‘There seems to be a problem with the Reilly
twins,' Mr McKay told her. Kate could see him forcing himself to keep his eyes off Michael.

‘I know,' she told him. ‘I had them in my office and we had a talk about it. Mr McKay, I would like to introduce Dr Michael Atwood.'

Mr McKay nodded curtly in Michael's general direction, but turned back to Kate. ‘I know you saw them,' Mr McKay told her. ‘But apparently they pulled a switcheroo again.'

‘Oops,' Kate said. ‘I guess I will have to do some more in-depth work with them.'

‘I guess you will,' Mr McKay rapped out, then turned and disappeared.

Michael looked at Kate. ‘Oops?' he asked. ‘Is that a Freudian or a Jungian term?'

Kate had to laugh, though she felt some embarrassment and concern. Well, she would deal with it on Monday. Now she had to deal with her changed plans for the weekend.

As they walked out of the school and passed the playground, Kate took Michael's hand. ‘I'm so glad you came to the school,' Kate said. ‘It gives us some extra time together.' Michael nodded and smiled. So much for the setup, Kate thought. ‘The thing is, Michael, I have to go out tomorrow night.'

‘Tomorrow night? But it's Saturday.'

‘I know. But it's Bina…'

‘Oh. Bina.'

‘It will just be for a few hours,' Kate told him.

‘A few hours on Saturday night,' Michael said, and Kate could hear the reproach in his voice. They
always spent the weekend together and on Sunday, after the ritual reading of the
New York Times
, parted at about two o'clock. Kate had learned not to extend the stay at his apartment, nor try to keep him at hers. Michael's Sunday afternoons and evenings were reserved for work, but she knew his Saturday nights were reserved for her.

‘I'm sorry,' she said. ‘It's not going to be fun. I just have to.' As she voiced the words, she felt annoyed with herself and him. She didn't have to apologize. Why did she feel so guilty? It was a small change and it wouldn't hurt him to learn to be a little more flexible.

Michael nodded, then looked down at his shoes for a moment. Kate watched him adjust and then he put his hand in his pocket. He held it out to her and opened his fist. There, nestled on the pink palm of his hand were two shiny keys on a new key ring. ‘Well,' he said, ‘I'm glad I got these for you. It'll make Saturday more convenient. You can let yourself in to my place.'

Kate took the keys as if they were a piece of jewelry. Indeed, exchanging keys was the equivalent of getting pinned decades ago. It was a sign of trust, and commitment. ‘Oh, Michael,' Kate said, taking the keys. She kissed him, and then realized that she would now have to give her keys to him. She also realized that she didn't really like the idea.

The next evening, a guilty Kate and a now hot, trendy Bina met Elliot and Brice at Kate's
apartment to begin their trek into Brooklyn. Kate looked down at her own simple blue knit dress – short but with a turtle neck – and felt distinctly under-dressed, though she knew it was flattering. Steven had liked it. Then she reminded herself this was about Bina, not her. Billy meant nothing to her.

‘This is even better than that trip to Nevis last fall,' Brice said. ‘The cultures of indigenous people always fascinated me.'

Kate cleared her throat to catch Brice's attention and gave Bina a sideways glance. Bina, however, was too absorbed in trying to learn to walk in the ‘fuck me' sandals to notice Brice's comment. Brice, taking pity on Bina's poor soul, not to mention poor soles, cocked his head and said, ‘Think up, dear. Lift! Lift!'

Kate, just for a moment, tried to imagine how a corporate lawyer knew all the drag tricks of the trade, which Brice did, but put that thought out of her mind.

Meanwhile, Bina jerked her shoulders up higher and in just a moment the look of total concentration on her face passed into a smile. She took a few tentative steps, then walked around Kate's small living room almost confidently. ‘Hey! Wow!' she exclaimed. ‘Thanks, Brice. That really works.'

Kate couldn't resist. ‘Brice?' she asked. ‘Where did you learn about walking in stilettos?'

‘Let us draw a veil across those things unnecessary to expose,' Brice said with Victorian hauteur.

‘Oh, tell them. He used to be the lead singer of Destiny's Child before Beyoncé pushed him out,' Elliot told her. Bina opened her eyes wide, but Kate tipped her off with a headshake.

‘Enough. We're going to be late meeting the girls,' Elliot said.

‘I thought we
were
the girls.' Brice pretended to pout.

‘Hey, is there a party going on?' The voice, muffled by the door, but clearly Max's, stopped the conversation. Elliot, closest to the entrance, reached out and turned the knob. Max, stopped in the hallway with his dry cleaning hooked over his shoulder and a bag of take-out in his other hand, now stared across Kate's living room at Bina. His eyes moved up and down and Kate watched as both his hands opened in surprise, and both the take-out and the slippery plastic-wrapped dry cleaning fell to the floor. For a moment, despite the spills, Max couldn't pull his eyes away. ‘Bina?' he asked. ‘Is that you?' Then, as if waking from a spell, he looked down, flushing with embarrassment. He crouched down to pick up the hangers while Elliot went for the plastic containers of what looked like Chinese food which had scattered but, thankfully, not opened.

‘Hi, Max,' Bina said. Kate had to turn away from the wreckage in the hallway because she could hardly believe it was Bina who had managed to pack so much flirtatiousness into the two syllables simply with her tone. In all the years she had
known her, Kate had never heard a coy sentiment escape Bina's lips. But there was definitely something new, some come-hither timbre packed into her words which made Kate believe that perhaps Bina could just manage to nail a date with Billy Nolan.

‘Here's your dinner,' Elliot said cheerfully to Max, handing the bag back to him. ‘Gotta go.'

Right. No more distractions. Kate grabbed her purse and ushered Bina out the door behind Brice's broad back. Unfortunately, she had to stop to lock the door and in the moment it took her to do so, Max, still immobilized, asked Bina, ‘What happened to you?'

Bina opened her mouth but before she could put her sandaled foot in it Brice intervened. ‘Only I and her hairdresser know for sure. Toodles.' He took Bina's hand and led her to the stairs.

As Kate followed them she turned and saw Max, still frozen, above her. ‘Don't worry. It isn't Bina,' she told him. ‘It's Bina's evil twin.'

Once in Brooklyn, for some reason known only to himself, Elliot told the cab to stop on an inauspicious corner in Williamsburg. There wasn't a bodega, much less a bar anywhere to be seen. It was an industrial neighborhood of converted warehouse factories, and a few dilapidated private homes that had become the hot place for twenty-somethings who had been priced out of Manhattan. On her forays to clubs and galleries there, Kate
had actually found herself feeling old and out of place. She also couldn't figure out the geography, or even which way was north or south, east or west. ‘Do you know where this place is?' she asked now in bewilderment.

‘Sure,' Elliot said. ‘It's just a block or two. And I need some time to coach Bina.' Turning to her, he said, ‘Now remember, if you want this to work you have to remember LAID.'