New York Echoes Read Free

good neighbor.”
    â€œI see.”
    She had picked up some of Betsy’s poop
offerings and flung them into a trash basket.
    â€œI’ve been laid off,” Mary said.
“They’re dumping all the oldies. Anyone over fifty. They deny it, of course,
but it’s apparent as the nose on your face. I’ve been sitting here figuring out
ways to really hurt them, the bastards.”
    â€œI can’t imagine how devastating it
would be,” Caroline said.
    â€œI worked for this advertising agency
for nearly twenty years. I thought I was the resident expert on media,
especially the new media, you know cable, the Internet, etcetera etcetera. Sons
of bitches. I trained this little rat and now she’s taken over.”
    â€œI’m sure something else will turn up,”
Caroline said.
    â€œThey want the sweet young things, I’m
afraid. I’m neither sweet nor young.”
    â€œI wish you luck,” Caroline said,
starting to lead Betsy away. Then she thought of something and came back.
    â€œMy husband’s a vice president of a
company in the media business. I’ll talk to him if that’s okay?”
    â€œWhy not?” Mary muttered. “You never
know.”
    She picked up the mail and brought the
dog back to Sandra Siegel, who came to the door without a cane. She picked up
Betsy, kissed her on the snout and talked baby talk to her as the dog licked
her face.
    â€œI think I can hack it now, Caroline. I
can’t begin to thank you. You’ve been great.”
    â€œThat’s what neighbors are for.”
    Caroline felt good about it. After all,
it didn’t take much time. Betsy was an obedient dog. It generated good
feelings. She supposed she could tell Jules about it now.  Jules came in at his
usual hour carrying a bottle of champagne with a ribbon around it and a card.
    â€œThe doorman gave it to me. It says,
‘Thanks a million from Sandra Siegel,’” Jules said. “Who the hell is Sandra
Siegel and why is she thanking you?”
    â€œFor walking her dog,”
Caroline admitted. “She’s a tenant and twisted her ankle.”
    â€œPart of your good
neighbor campaign?”
    She held up the
champagne bottle he had given her.
    â€œGood fellowship and
good cheer,” she said. “And this.”  She handed him an invitation to a dinner
party from Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Agronsky. “The ninth floor Agronskys,”
Caroline said, winking. “You see what happens when you open up to them? People
are hungry for companionship.”
    â€œCouple of days. Short
notice,” he commented, reading the invitation.
    â€œIt’s the thought that
counts,” she said.
    â€œI haven’t really been
against the idea,” he said. “Only wary of involvement.”
    â€œI like the idea of
involvement with people. After all, I work alone all day. It’s nice to have
friends to chat with.”
    â€œLike that guy with
the girlfriend.”
    â€œLike him, and today I
talked with another neighbor who just lost her job. I told him what you did and
maybe you might see her.” Caroline explained her credentials. “She says
companies look askance when you’re over fifty, no matter what your expertise.”
    In a comic mime, he
looked around him as if he were checking for spies and he put a finger over his
lips.
    â€œDon’t ask. Don’t
tell.”
    â€œIt’s not fair.”
    â€œNeither is life.”
    In the morning, when
she went to get the New York Times outside her door, there was an
envelope with Mary’s resume. She gave it to Jules.
    â€œI’ll look it over,”
he promised. “Don’t encourage her.”
    When she went for her
afternoon Frappuccino, Ben Rainey was sitting alone at a table. He motioned her
over after she got her order. It was impossible to avoid him without seeming
rude and she sat down at the table.
    â€œI was hoping