Pride and protest, p.21
Pride and Protest, page 21
“And you think talking to her about what’s really wrong is going to make her think you regret turning down Colin?”
“Yep.” Liza nodded.
“So you haven’t spoken to your best friend in four weeks? You got it all figured out, right, Liza?”
“No, I never said that I did. What about you? You got two offers in New York, and you still haven’t responded.”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
“David is bound to come back to New York soon. You have your pick of jobs there. Talk to him instead of stalking his Instagram and looking around puzzled. You two are the worst.”
“Well, don’t you have all the answers for somebody else’s life?” Janae’s voice crackled over the phone. “Even if we hung out here, he’d have to go back to France for another four weeks, and he did this without even telling me. Nothing changes the fact that he up and left the country without so much as a text.”
“Isn’t that something you can talk to him about to his face in New York?”
“It’s not always that easy, Liza.”
“Janae, I’m not saying that it’s easy. I’m saying that at some point you have got to let yourself love again. You’ve got to let yourself open up. You can’t just let love pass through your fingertips. Do I like David? Meh. I think he has a weak chin and a goofy laugh. But I think he works for you, and he makes you happy. You should fight for what makes you happy, not run away from it.”
“You are so great at mapping out what everyone else should do. But can I share something with you? You’re lukewarm on WIC. I can tell. You’re only pressing it to shut Ma up. If he stops by, Deya said you’re barely even in the room. You leave Ma and Deya to swoon over him while you text with an unsaved number. Like all day, every day.”
Liza was glad Janae was on the phone and couldn’t see her face. Her ears burned at the mention of her frenzied texting. She thought she was being discreet. But in the past month, she’d waited for Dorsey’s thoughtful questions or awkward interpersonal struggles with a little too much breathless anticipation. After all the hateful memes, she helped him deal with the darker, intrusive side of internet fame, and he . . . well, he listened to her. He made her feel like she didn’t have to shout from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue to be heard—that she could whisper and he would come running. But it was a spell that was broken too easily by reality.
“So do you want to talk about everyone else’s secrets, or do you want to talk about your mystery man?”
“Mystery man? Your heteronormativity disappoints me, Janae.” She fumbled for something else to focus on. “Deya needs to stay out of my business.”
“Is she lying?” Janae challenged.
“Janae, look, I—”
Liza’s phone vibrated in her hand. It was a FaceTime request from Chicho, who never FaceTimed since she thought the camera was “too truthful.”
“Um, it’s Chicho.” Liza was as confused as she sounded. She’d probably realized the enormity of her mistake. Liza would not go into “I told you so”s She was bigger than that.
“Chicho? Her ears must be burning.”
“Yeah, really. I gotta hop off.” Liza pressed the button and answered. “Chicho, is everything okay?”
“No, everything is not okay. The podcast for the inaugural episode is next week, and I have nothing. This is supposed to go on for a year. I don’t have one thing written. This is hard, and I want to quit. I need your help. Can you come?” Chicho’s face showed guileless panic. A small part of Liza had hoped her friend had finally seen through the fraud that Colin was and wanted to come back home, but she just needed help with her six-figure job.
“I can come.”
“Oh, thank god. I can pick you up in a town car. We have a bomb-ass guest room. I want you to stay for the week and hear the first episode.”
“I can’t hang out at your house for a week.”
“Why? Because Mama Bennett is such a charmer?”
“Ugh, she’s been terrible for months.”
“I know. My mom can hear her telling you and me off through the walls.”
“Oh, I saw your dad. He’s looking pretty cleaned up.”
“Rehab can do that for you. He says he liked the rehab so much that he applied for a job there.”
“That’s right, I haven’t been seeing him during the day, and it’s been silent next door.” Liza let the silence ring between them. Quiet next door meant Chicho’s father hadn’t hurt her mother since he’d been back. Liza could hear Chicho’s relieved exhalation of breath.
“Come on, Liza, let me call the car for you. I can ask my mother to make mofongo for you. You can eat it all week without me judging you or calling you gordita.”
“Oh snap, your mother’s mofongo is the best in DC. Okay, call your boy. I’ll be packed and ready.” All she had to do was play nice with Colin—easy.
BOILED POTATOES
From: JPARK@AjummaTruck.com
To: dorsey@yourmail.com
I’d love to pop over to DC with you. I can’t wait to meet this “friend” you keep talking about. Been scrolling through the feeds, and OMG she looks like that French woman I was obsessed with for like three years, Cindy Bruna . . . with an American ass tho and funny captions too. Punching above your weight, bro! You need all the help you can get. Be there @6pm.
Park
“I’m going to tell it to you straight. You need to shit or get off the pot with this Netherfield deal.” Senator De Berg squinted at the copy of Making Marriage Work he had been flipping through, then turned to Dorsey.
Dorsey was once again in a DC municipal building, getting a lecture about how he should handle this situation.
“We’re hungry for new development. You can’t allow these permit tricks to stall you. The Alexandria council welcomes you with open arms, and you don’t seem to want to make a move,” the senator said.
“Do we know anything about the communities that we’re bulldozing?” Dorsey asked.
“What communities? These are mostly abandoned homes. If people cared about them, they wouldn’t be abandoned. It really is simple. Don’t let those people get under your skin.”
“No one’s under my skin. I just don’t understand why this isn’t going the way these things usually go.”
“You can get away with a lot of stuff in Philly that won’t fly in DC. Everything is linked here. If you screw up in DC, you can kiss the federal government, Maryland, and Virginia goodbye.”
“I am aware of the stakes, Senator.” Dorsey pulled up the knees to his pants and sat.
“If you are aware of the stakes, what were you doing making goo-goo eyes at that Bennett girl at your company’s event?”
“Her grandmother won a contest fair and square.” It seemed like every step was a misstep where Liza was concerned.
“You can sell that horseshit someplace else. I’ve been young and rich before. She’s a pretty girl who’s got the balls to tell you no and doesn’t give a damn about your money.” The senator turned his attention back to the workbook. “It makes your dick hard and your head soft.”
“Senator, I don’t appreciate being told how to interact with someone like I’m a child. This is a complex situation that calls for a complex solution, not a whitewashing. I need the room to do that.”
“Can I give you a piece of advice, kid? You got a stick up your ass about something. Everybody sees it. I’m rooting for you, but your board, you should know, is not. But I’d rather work with you than some new asshole.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I can handle my board myself.”
“Sure, sure.” The senator held up his hands. “Look, I have a little friend in that district making a lot of things happen, Colin Gruthers. Why don’t you have dinner with us a couple of nights next week? They also want to bring over that Bennett woman from the memes. Apparently, they’re friends or related, but not really?”
“Play cousins,” Dorsey mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“I want you two to hash things out so we can get moving. It will also help you see that she’s a pain in the ass.”
Liza was a pain in the ass, mostly because she wouldn’t get out of his head. Whenever he got out of the shower. Any time he touched his zipper, he thought of the cool metal chain from Liza’s back, and how he wanted to push her against the hard length of him and pound and suck and squeeze until his heart gave out. He thought of how neatly she had fit the hard planes of his body. This woman had been driving him insane. He had never been inclined to have dinner with this politician before, but suddenly his invitations were welcomed.
“What do you like to eat? Maybe my wife, Anne, can make a dish for you?”
“Oh, there’s no need for that.” Dorsey did not want to overcommit himself. Say yes one time, and he’d be on the calendar for a month.
“How about some Russian food, in honor of your departed brother?”
“My brother was from Slovenia. We’ve never been to Russia. Don’t know much about the cuisine.”
“It’s settled, then. A night in Moscow with the De Bergs.”
Dorsey shuffled his feet.
“A different country each night, and on the last night, the Philippines.”
“There’s really no need.”
“Oh, Anne’ll love it.”
“I can’t come over every night,” Dorsey protested.
“Should I just let you know when the girl will be there?” The senator raised his eyebrows. Dorsey nodded and left the room without a goodbye.
* * *
When Beverly saw the town car driver buzz the apartment for Liza, she crossed her arms roughly. “Your limousine is here. Enjoy this week with your friend. You’re going to need it to realize everything you gave up.”
“See you, Ma.” Liza’s relationship with her mother had never been great. But these six weeks since Chicho had left with Colin tested her more than ever. She would never understand why she and her mother were so at odds about what was important and fundamental. It seemed like an unbreachable gulf. After all the arguments, after all the boiled-over anger, the only thing left was hollow sadness. She wanted a mother-confidante, a mother-cheerleader, a mother’s unconditional love. But those things always seemed to evade her.
The ride was quick. She could have taken the train, but Liza knew Chicho wanted to make a point.
Look what I can do now.
I made the right choice.
The cobblestone streets in old Alexandria rumbled pleasantly underneath the town car. It was amazing how a thirty-minute ride could change the landscape so dramatically. From harsh brutalism to quaint eighteenth-century brick homes. A horse-drawn carriage pulled up alongside them at a red light, and Liza tapped on the window to get the sleek black horse’s attention.
When the car stopped, Liza pulled a tight smile across her lips. No matter what was said, she would keep her face in a neat, friendly smile. These ankle boots seemed like a great idea until the low tread met the cobblestone.
The ground was slick with chilly rain that had iced over, and Liza’s foot slipped on a shallow pool of ice. She braced herself for the fall by flinging her hands out, and she hit the pavement before the driver could catch her. It was softer than she expected, and she was relieved that she hadn’t broken anything until she realized the softness was warm and stinky, and her hands and shoulders were covered in horseshit.
“Oh my god, girl, what are you doing down there?”
Colin reached for her, then quickly withdrew his hand.
“Liza! Are you okay?” Chicho rushed to Liza’s side, but then also pulled herself back. “Sorry. This is a Rosetta Getty blouse. Can someone help her, please?”
Chicho’s little brother, Alfredo, scuttled out of the house and smiled. “Ew, you stink.” But he graciously took her arm anyway.
Colin covered his face and shooed Liza and the boy around the building. Once they were out of earshot, she nuzzled Alfredo.
“Ew, gross!” He laughed.
“Do you like it here, Fredo?” Liza asked.
“My school is awesome, and the people are nice.”
“That’s good,” Liza said. “Go get my bags and put them in my room. Tell your sister to take out my good jeans and the gross shirt. She’ll know what I mean.”
Half an hour later, Liza was showered and sitting awkwardly in the living room in her snug jeans and a Grab ’Em by the Pussy shirt, listening to Colin describe every politician he had ever met. She tapped her phone to call up Dorsey’s texts. They were becoming a comfort to her, something she had come to expect every day. She texted:
At Play Cousin & BFFs house.
His reply was quick, as if his phone had been in his hand.
How is that going?
I fell in horse manure so . . .
Genius plan! Make them want to make you leave immediately.
I think I still have shit somewhere. It’s coming off in waves
It’s the hair clip.
You’re right I should take it off
Three dots.
No, wait. It’s the bra.
Good idea! That’s off too
I’m on my way.
Liza laughed out loud in the quiet room and jolted everyone out of their polite and quiet agreement on the grandeur of the home. Colin touched her arm. “Did you know I brushed past the First Lady at a book signing? She’s not that nice,” he stage-whispered.
“Honey, why don’t we show Liza around the place?”
Colin walked Liza around their historic home, giving her infinite details about the original windows and the procedures associated with changing the baseboards in a historic home. “Senator De Berg has been kind enough to supplement the cost of some upgrades like central heating. Do you know how expensive installing central heating in a historic home is?”
“I bet it’s a lot,” Liza mumbled.
“Tons,” Colin corrected. For the third time, he looked down at her shirt.
“If we dine out with Senator De Berg, you won’t be wearing that shirt, will you?”
Liza looked down innocently. “I was thinking about it.”
“Once again, he is an ally,” Colin warned.
“Then he’ll laugh it off.”
“It’s crude.”
“It’s true.”
“Liza,” Chicho interrupted. “What about that cute little military-style blazer you have? Did you bring that? It would go great with your jeans and can class up your shirt.”
Liza loved that jacket. Chicho knew this. They looked at each other for a minute.
“C’mon. It gives you Janet Jackson ‘Rhythm Nation’ vibes,” Chicho wheedled.
“I know.” Liza rolled her eyes and slumped her shoulders. “I’ll wear the jacket.” Chicho mouthed, “Thank you,” and Liza checked off a box inside her head.
Smooth sailing with my BFF
Honestly, she and Chicho hadn’t talked much these past several weeks, and when they did, the conversation had taken on a new strained quality. Liza was frantically asking after everything with fake cheerfulness, and Chicho tried to tamp down her enthusiasm for her new life.
“The senator’s friends with Only Ms. Venezuela.” She used their nickname for Dorsey. “You’re just now getting over all of the memes, but I couldn’t tell him no.”
“No, it’s fine.” Liza pressed her lips firmly together and tried not to make any sudden moves. She knew Chicho would read her like a book. She would sniff out Liza’s wobbling facade of dislike before Liza even had a chance to truly understand it. Whatever this companionable texting thing that had sprung up between her and Dorsey was, Liza knew what it wasn’t. It wasn’t sex, and it wasn’t cheap. The depth of vulnerability they had shared with each other over text was just the tenderest thing in her fucking life right now. And she wasn’t ready to spoil that feeling just yet with flashlights and cross-examinations.
“Y’all, I thought we were going out tonight. But this one is better. We’ve been invited in!” Colin squealed. Chicho and Alfredo cheered.
“Invited in is about six times as personal as being invited out,” Alfredo said sagely before Colin could say it himself. Liza saw a tinge of pride in Colin’s eyes. It was clear he had come to love Fredo, and for that, Liza gave him a break and held up one hand in a limp “raise the roof” pantomime.
“The senator said he’s especially excited to see you again, Liza!”
* * *
Dorsey sat in the back of the town car peeling away calluses on his hands. He had a nervous habit when he was a child of biting the rough skin, which had suddenly surfaced again out of nowhere. He planned to close the loop on his strange preoccupation with Liza Bennett and had called in his closest friend for reinforcement. Park was one of the most affable people he’d ever met, with a rare combination of charm and substance that made him irresistible to ladies even when he’d had empty pockets. They had met when Dorsey was on an ill-fated date at a Korean dumpling class in New York, and Park was the instructor making ends meet. The girl didn’t last, but the friendship had.
“You look like you’re about to get hit by a bus, dude.”
“Maybe I am.” Dorsey shifted in the back of the car.
“Oh, I have got to meet this woman. Instagram is not enough. All the lovely ladies I try to set you up with come back and tell me you’re an impossible kkadonam.”
