Welcome to Envy Park (2 page)

She was sitting on my living room
floor, barefoot, scarf off, drinking her passion fruit margarita
from a jam jar, my attempt at being shabby chic. "You don't realize
what would happen to my career if I just suddenly took off now. I
get out, and I won't be able to just pick up where I left off. I
can't afford to Eat Pray Love myself out of this funk."

I was lying flat on the sofa just
behind her, and I could see that the pitcher on the coffee table
needed refilling. But I didn't move an inch. "Well maybe you don't
want to go back to the same career."

"I have a huge payment on the
condo coming up. Can't think about that."

"When do you get to move into that
by the way?"

"Next month, I think, if I'm
lucky."

Roxie and I were an interesting
study in parallel lives, if anyone bothered to look. I packed up
and left Manila, as so many others did, and at the time it seemed
like the only smart thing to do, if you wanted to get ahead. My
hometown (if you could call a city of 12 million people "hometown")
felt too cramped and crazy. Roxie stayed, because it was her nature
to thrive in cramped and crazy.

Five years later, and what did we have?

"Well you have this," Roxie said,
waving an arm toward my ceiling.

"And you're getting your own place
soon."

"And you helped your parents with
expenses and stuff."

"You did too."

"We had that New York
trip."

Yes, that was excellent, I agreed.

"We don't have cars," Roxie
added.

"We don't drive. But we can afford
it if we wanted to."

"We don't have kids."

"Yeah, we don't have
that."

"I'd settle for a date on
Saturday."

"Well, I've cursed you, so
no."

"So let me recap. You left. I
stayed. Now, we both have some money, helped out our families, went
on a cool trip, bought ourselves apartments. But our social lives
are still limited to you and me and a margarita
pitcher."

"Huh. It kind of sounds like we're
even," I said.

Were we? Maybe it was the tequila buzz, but I really
did think that I had come out ahead. Surely the lessons in
independence that leaving home provided a person counted for
something. Counted for more, at least, in terms of emotional
growth, and maturity, because those years were the most difficult
and humbling of my life so far.

"No we're not even," Roxie said,
giggling. "I have a job. You don't."

She had to refill the margarita pitcher all by
herself then, I told her.

-/\/\/\-

ROXIE

I. CAREER AND FINANCES

+ Upwardly mobile and stable career

- Hasn’t worked anywhere else

- No work-related travel, has to be on her own
dime

+ Can afford travel on her own dime, and fancy
apartment

II. FAMILY AND FRIENDSHIPS

+ Often sees family

+ Often sees friends (except Moira)

III. LOVE AND RELATIONSHIPS

- Dry spell (Possibly related to upwardly mobile
career)

IV. PERSONAL FULFILLMENT

+ Has hobbies (baking, yoga)

+ Travels at least yearly

+ Doesn’t complain that much really, has nothing to
complain about, likely

If you were as interested in
planning as I was, you would start to see your life, and maybe
others’ lives, in charts. Graphs. Personally, I liked lists and
matrices. When I was figuring out what I wanted, I had figured out
that I wanted satisfaction (plus signs) on four different aspects
of my life. I wanted a fabulous career, a healthy bank account,
good friends, peaceful family relations, love, and the freedom to
do the things I wanted to do.

Too greedy? Please. Everyone wants
everything. The ones who gave up on having it all just didn’t try
enough. (And if they did try hard enough, the solution was to
revise what "everything" meant.)

Too obsessive-compulsive?
Noooo.
This was a hobby.
A productive one.

It was only a matter of time
before I started applying the matrix to other people in my life. It
made sense to me, if I wanted to "have it all," to see what other
people had going on, and possibly pick out the things that would
work for me. And Roxie, for all her achievements, was holding
herself back on some things that I never would.

Chapter 2

When someone in your life remains jobless for more
than a month, has their first meal at noon, and has color-coded
sweatpants for each day of the week, you might feel concerned about
them. And you would be right about it, but you should not have
worried about me.

If I had a job, I wouldn't have been able to do
everything I'd accomplished my first few weeks back. Steps 1 and 2
of the plan would have stretched out for months, no joke.

I also wouldn't have been able to
get into the glorious habit of sleeping until ten every morning.
And spending most of my day in sweatpants, that was not as
depressing as I thought it would be. I regretted nothing about my
new lazy lifestyle.

Until Fire Drill day.

The thing I had forgotten about coming back home was
that March was Fire Prevention Month, and if you were working or
living in a building that had a fire escape, you were likely going
to be asked to try it out then. It was a planned thing, with
announcements posted in the elevators and the bulletin board in the
mail room, but I couldn't tell my Mondays and Thursdays apart
anymore so it didn't matter.

At eight that particular morning, the fire alarm
woke me up. I tried to ignore it, but it kept going, and then I
jumped out of bed when I realized that the building might be on
fire.

Please no, not my new furniture! I was thinking, as
I quickly made myself decent. Not enough time to change my outfit,
so i just slipped on a bra and put my night shirt (yellow with a
Winnie the Pooh on it) back on, and didn't change out of my pink
sweat pants. While figuring out where my passport was, I heard a
knock on the door.

"Miss Vasquez?"

The voice sounded strangely calm.
I ran to the door, cracked it open, and saw (my favorite) security
guard Alan on the other side. "What's happening?"

"Ma'am, fire drill. You have to go
to the fire escape now."

"I will, I will, I just need
to...wait, no fire, right?"

"Yes, just lock your unit, we
should be done in an hour."

"Okay, let me just
get—"

"Ma'am, you have to go now. We
have to evacuate the entire building in the shortest time
possible."

And that was how I wound up in the fire escape
stairwell in my Winnie the Pooh shirt and pink pants.

My apartment was on the tenth floor of a
fifteen-floor building, so that didn't sound so bad to me. I mean,
it could have been worse. Walking ten floors down wasn't so bad,
way easier than going up. I could hear voices on the stairwell but
they were all below me. I was probably one of the last to be led
out.

At the ninth floor, someone joined me. Blue shirt,
khaki pants. Of course it was 9th Floor.

He usually didn't say hi to
anyone, but it was difficult to pretend not to see me in that small
space and with my Pooh shirt. He smiled and fell into step beside
me. "I overslept this morning too," he said.

"Oh, I didn't oversleep. I'm
really in bed at this time."

He laughed a little.

Eighth floor.

"I'm Moira," I said. "Tenth
floor."

"Ethan," he said. "Ninth
floor."

"Yeah," I said, and then I wished
I didn't. "I...we've been in the elevator together a few
times."

"Right sorry. I don't usually talk
to neighbors."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. People probably
think I'm rude. Sorry about that."

Seventh floor, still no one else but us.

"Are we the last people to be
evacuated?" I wondered.

"You knew this was going to happen
right? Everyone else probably left early, made sure they wouldn't
be here when the drill started."

"I forgot about it. What's your
excuse?"

He shrugged. "Overslept. And it's
just a nine-floor walk anyway."

Sixth floor.

We marched down the steps in silence for a bit. At
first I was thinking of something to say, and then I was
overwhelmed by my legs protesting on me.

Fifth floor.

Oh god, shortness of breath. My right calf
threatening to cramp. I paused for a second, and Ethan noticed when
he was suddenly half a flight of stairs ahead of me.

"Are you okay?" he
said.

I waved him off. "Fine. Am fine."
Not fine enough for complete sentences though.

He ran back up to me and touched
my elbow. "Are you sure?"

"I'm fine. Really." And I gathered
up some energy to smile and start walking again.

"Sometimes it can get stuffy in
these fire escapes," he was saying, slowing down to match my pace.
"Deep breaths."

I couldn't. I was trying, but my lungs were cutting
me off halfway through. Good thing my legs kind of went on
autopilot and were just marching through the pain. Yeah there was a
little pain.

Fourth floor.

"Do you need help?" Ethan said
suddenly.

"I'm fine," said the girl on the
verge of collapsing. "Legs complaining."

"Do you have asthma?"

I shook my head.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. He was being nice, and I could already
hear Roxie's voice in my head yelling at me to be nicer. But I
didn't want our first ever encounter to be him carrying my
unconscious body out of this building. So I trained my eyes forward
and kept walking.

"You don't have to respond, but
I'm just going to keep talking," he said, "Because it'll help make
the walk seem faster. Or at least it will for me. You can tell me
later if this just made it more horrible for you."

I managed a smile.

"I'm renting," he was saying, "A
one-bedroom. It looks great, and the owner hasn't even tried to
live there. I almost feel bad about sitting on the couch,
everything's so new. But everything in the building's new
anyway."

Third floor. A numb feeling started near my knees
and moved up my thighs.

And Ethan hadn't stopped talking.

"...it's really convenient too. I
work in Beckett, the consulting firm across the street. First time
I've lived so close to where I work, and of course I'm always late
now. But it was either this or a cheaper place on the other side of
the highway."

Oh no, not the other side of the highway. That was
where we had to go if we wanted a wider supermarket selection or
better deals on gadgets, but it was also a seedier part of town.
Rent was cheaper though. I made sure he saw me smile, that I
appreciated this conversation, and it was probably the only thing
that was keeping me from just giving up.

I also silently thanked the universe that he had
chosen to spend a little more and wound up in my building
instead.

Second floor.

"...and they actually deliver the
laundry to my door, so I thought it was a good deal..."

Yeah, the laundry shop over in Tower 1 was awesome
that way.

Ground floor. I was so relieved to make it to the
street. We were ushered by building security to a designated safe
zone and I saw everyone else there, everyone else in Tower 3, at
least those who didn't skip out on fire drill day.

And then I dropped my hands to my knees and tried to
catch my breath.

"Hey, hey, not here in the crowd."
Hands on my upper arms gently up and led me to the edge of the safe
zone, away from the people. "What's happening?"

I took a breath, and then more,
and he was just waiting for me to answer. Thankfully by then the
feeling was coming back everywhere. "I'm better. I just found out
how out of shape I am."

And then Ethan from the ninth
floor laughed. "Yeah, you should work on that, Moira. We have a gym
in Tower 3 you know."

There was a presentation that we were supposed to be
watching. A representative from the city fire department was
speaking on a makeshift stage, and had called on a fellow Tower 3
resident to demo using a fire extinguisher. She was a senior
citizen, hair as gray as my grandmother's, and looked a little
excited to be given a chance to put out the small controlled
fire.

I realized that my lungs were
accepting deep breaths again, and I turned to Ethan, still beside
me. "Thank you," I said. "Thanks for talking to me in
there."

"Did it help?"

"Yes it did." In that I found out
more about him than I ever would have dared to ask on a normal
elevator ride. "And I'm alive, so it worked."

"Yeah, that was the longest
conversation I've had with a neighbor."

"I don't remember all of it
though. I was just trying not to pass out."

"Maybe when I see you next," Ethan
said, "I'll go over everything again."

"I'll pay attention," I
promised.

Chapter 3

It took an hour for the fire drill to wind down, but
I learned my lesson for the day. I had to get moving again. So
after a quick brunch that consisted of salad greens and a soggy
tomato, I headed over to the Tower 3 pool on the fourth floor.