“What?” She was surprised by the question, the directness of it.
“You heard me.” He frowned. “You can say no if you want. Or you can take the bet.” He shrugged, his expression detached. He was nervous, but he wasn’t going to show it.
“Let’s go back inside. I want coffee,” she said, pleased but confused.
He followed behind her, and they sat down. He didn’t ask again.
Unu went to the bathroom, and while he was away, she wrote down her number on a torn corner of the menu card, folding it under the table into a square the size of a quarter.
After the meal ended, they got up from their seats and he shook her hand, taking the paper from her palm. At this, he said nothing, but he smiled.
“Good night,” she said.
“’Night, pretty girl.”
Casey returned to her room and tucked herself in, feeling light, girlish. The phone rang, and when she picked it up, there was a click. She hung up, not having guessed that it had been Hugh who’d called to check her whereabouts.
6 LANGUAGE
ELLA DIDN’T KNOW WHAT DAVID GREENE would say when she finally phoned, but he sounded so happy to hear from her that she forgot herself and wondered why she’d hesitated as long as she had. Also, it was David and not the school operator who had picked up his own phone on the first ring. For her, this seemed like a sign. Right after hello, he asked if she had her hands full with a six-month-old. Ella looked around the tidy apartment. The baby-sitter, Laurie, had taken Irene to the park, insisting that the baby needed fresh air. On nearly everything, Ella deferred to Laurie, who was intelligent and kind and had two decades of unimpeachable references. Now and then, Ella had to pump her breasts and freeze her milk so Laurie could give Irene her bottles when they were not together. The renovations for the town house were going well, and the cleaning lady came by twice a week to do the laundry and housework. Ella didn’t have enough to do, frankly, and she felt worthless.
“Tell me everything. Tell me how you are,” David said.
“Everything is good,” she answered.
“It’s so wonderful to hear your voice, Ella,” he said. His ears felt hot.
Then came the surprise from her end. Ella heard herself asking David if he had any work for her. Maybe in September. Didn’t he do his hiring in June? It was just a crazy thought anyway.
The idea of her coming back overwhelmed David. It filled him with panic and joy. He said nothing, though, trying to keep calm.
But his silence made her feel foolish. She shouldn’t have asked, Ella thought. Would David think she was an awful mother to want an office job when Ted made pots of money? She wanted to see David’s face—his wide-set eyes the color of charcoal glowing blue, the bear-colored curls, and his reticent smile that hid his lower teeth, tiny ivory piano keys. She didn’t want him to think badly of her. His refraining from saying anything made her feel just awful. It doesn’t matter—she told herself—Ted didn’t want her to go back to work anyway. Yet Ella wished she didn’t want to see him so badly all of a sudden. If she were sitting in his office on that apple green leather sofa, and she could see his face, then she’d know what he was thinking. She hated it when he was quiet. To put her out of her misery, all he had to say was there was nothing at the school. Then she wouldn’t hope. She’d get off the phone, sulk privately, and try to get on with being a stay-at-home mother with a full-time sitter and a housecleaner and a husband who was never home while nearly every woman she’d meet who wasn’t in her situation exactly would view her as redundant. At the last HBS dinner party, a woman who was the chief financial officer of a telecom company in New Jersey, also an attractive mother of three, said to Ella, “Oh, you don’t work?” and Ella could read the thought bubble above her closely cropped black hair: “Oh, you don’t matter.” The woman fled from her thereafter as if she were afraid that Ella might buttonhole her for even a minute longer. If David had a position for her, Ella would take it.
“What kind of work did you have in mind, Ella?” David asked, sounding so patient and earnest that if it were possible, Ella would’ve crawled into his voice to hide.
“Well, I could do anything, I suppose. I don’t expect to have my old job back. I’m, you know, rusty. And. . .” She paused. She had called to say hello. The job question had just popped out of her mouth. He must think she was stupid.
“Uhm, I don’t know, David. I’d be happy to work reception at St. Christopher’s.” Ella shrugged. She might as well have mentioned working as ambassador to Pluto. Marie Calder, who’d worked as the school operator and receptionist for twenty-nine years, joked herself that she’d have to be carried out by the boys of the upper school when it was time for her to go. Thinking of Marie, Ella could almost hear the morning line of uniformed kindergartners marching across the cream-colored lobby, their well-shined shoes clicking noisily against the black-and-white marbled floors. It was so quiet in the apartment. Too quiet.