Uptown Girl. Olivia Goldsmith
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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.
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