New York Echoes Read Free Page B

acquainted.” She was interrupted by another of the guests and moved
away.
    â€œWhen are we going to
eat?” Jules whispered again.
    â€œThat is total
bullshit,” Ben shouted suddenly, directing the remark to Sheila. It was quickly
apparent to Caroline that a drunken argument was ensuing.
    â€œLook who’s talking
about bullshit.”
    â€œHey, cool it guys,”
one of the guests said.
    â€œMind your own fucking
business, Charley,” Ben said.
    â€œPardon me, Benny
baby,” Charley said, walking away.
    The obvious
conflagration between host and hostess silenced the group and Sheila finally
called everyone to the dining room table.  The conversation was quieter now.
Caroline was seated next to a large, red-faced man who had beads of
perspiration on his upper lip.
    â€œSo what do you do?”
the red-faced man, whose name was Tom something, asked.  His question seemed
obligatory, but she answered politely.
    â€œOh,” he said, turning
away to talk with the woman on the other side of him.
    â€œYou are a scumbag,”
Sheila shouted across the round table to Ben.
    â€œTakes one to know
one,” Ben said.
    â€œAre they always like
this?” Caroline asked the red-faced man.
    â€œBooze rage,” he
snickered, then turned back to the woman on the other side of him.
    The conversation ebbed
and flowed.  Most of the subject matter of the conversation centered on stocks,
deals, and money, sprinkled with the names of people unknown to neither she nor
Jules. They used initials to describe things that she didn’t understand. She
exchanged glances with Jules, who was sitting between two women who were
holding a conversation around him as if he didn’t exist. He looked at her and
shrugged.
    As the evening wore
on, she felt more and more irrelevant to the group and when they left, Ben, who
slurred his words, walked them to the door.
    â€œThanks for helping us
out,” he said. 
    â€œYour pleasure,” Jules
mumbled. Ben, not getting it, smiled and closed the door.
    Jules was livid when
they got back to their apartment.
    â€œYes, we all live
under the same roof, but that is not the way to pick and choose our friends and
companions. We were props. They were preppy Wall Street shits.  Admit it, this
was purgatory.”
    â€œYou can’t win them
all,” she said, knowing he was right in this case.
    â€œI don’t think we
should just accept invitations willy-nilly because we live under the same
roof.”
    It was late and she
could see an argument was coming and decided to ignore the subject and go to
sleep. For the next few days she concentrated on pressing deadlines and did not
go to Starbucks for Frappuccino. Then, one day, she got a call, from Sandra
Siegel.  By then, the weather had turned and it was raining.
    â€œI did it again,
Caroline. My ankle gave out. Could you please take Betsy out?”
    â€œI’m in the middle of
a deadline, Sandra,” she protested. She looked out the window at the rain
coming down in long slanting sheets.
    â€œPlease, Caroline.
Betsy needs this. I tried to do it but I could barely stand.”
    She heard Betsy
barking in the background. “Hear that? The little girl is in pain. Please, help
me Caroline.”
    â€œAnd the doorman? What
about him?”
    â€œShe wants you,”
Sandra replied.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œI can tell.”
    Reluctantly, Caroline
complied. She put on her rain gear, took an umbrella, and picked up Betsy.
Coming back soaked, she handed Betsy back to Sandra.
    â€œOh my God, look at
the poor baby; she’s soaked to the skin.”
    She hobbled away with
Betsy in her arms without saying thank you or goodbye. Caroline went back to
work but her concentration was broken, and it was difficult to pick up where
she left off. She did not tell Jules what had happened.
    It was still raining
the next morning and she had promised herself that she would