The Creepshow: A Novel Page 7

  So after Nelly cooed into the phone enough to delight her grandmother, Wanda hung up and declared her Christmas social duties finished.

  Wanda set Nelly down in the baby lounger, bounced it with her foot and checked her Whilt email account. She had sent out a holiday greeting to all her clients and a few of them kindly replied. Thankfully, none of them had sent hate mail.

  Wanda’s stomach growled, and her eyes fled to the clock. It was quarter to eight, and she hadn’t eaten a thing since the stale croissant for breakfast. No wonder she was starving. She glanced over at Nelly, who was nodding off, and then made her way to the kitchen with visions of leftover pizza dancing in her head.

  Just as she opened the refrigerator, the doorbell rang. Galina. She had probably sent Charles here to drag them over. Wanda cringed but knew she couldn’t ignore the bell. So with a reticent step, she approached the door.

  Raindrops fell from Max’s hair onto the doormat. Wanda’s heart raced with joy and panic all at once. The person she wanted desperately to see, yet his presence—so decisive, so steady—frightened her. From the very start, a tiny voice in her head had told her Max was the one, but after everything that had happened, she was scared to take the leap of faith and lose herself in a relationship. And now especially, at the worst of times. How could she focus on romance when her professional world was crumbling?

  But at the moment Max was gazing into her eyes, and she had to say something, do something.

  “No umbrella?” she said.

  “It wasn’t supposed to rain. Would have made more sense if it snowed this time of year, right?” He shrugged.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. “On Christmas Eve, I mean. Don’t you have better things to do? You could have gone to your brother’s.”

  “I was hoping to spend it with you… with both of you.”

  “But you were angry—”

  “Can I come in?”

  Wanda felt her face go hot, and she looked down, trying to hide the embarrassing blush that would only worsen.

  “Yeah, sure.” She stepped back to let him in.

  Together, they arranged his dripping coat, scarf and shoes in the vestibule. His arm brushed against hers, sending a shiver up her spine. Their eyes met for an instant, but she turned away. Then she scolded herself for thinking, feeling and behaving like someone who was in love. Get a grip, she pleaded with her practical side. But she wasn’t sure that practical side was listening.

  When they reached the living room Wanda noticed Max was carrying two bags.

  “Food,” he said, lifting one. “And presents,” he said, nodding at the other. “You don’t think I would come over and impose.”

  “I might have been going out,” she said, crossing her arms, then realizing that dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, she didn’t look very convincing. At least she hadn’t taken off her makeup yet, and she’d freed her hair from her staid workday ponytail. “But I’m not going out. I mean, what if I was, and you’d gone through that effort for nothing?”

  “But you’re not, and I didn’t, right?”

  She nodded. OK, she needed to regroup, just be normal. She let out a slow breath and gazed at Nelly sleeping in the lounger.

  “She looks so peaceful,” Max said as he bent down next to her and gently touched a tiny hand.

  “She’s a good sleeper. Once she’s out, she’s out… Um, what would you like to drink?”

  “I took care of that. Check out the bags.”

  Wanda glanced into one bag, the fragrance of lemongrass telling her it would be one of her favorites, Thai food, and then checked out the second bag. A bottle of champagne had just started to bead with sweat as it went from the cold outdoors to the heat of the apartment. And next to it, two boxes Wanda pretended not to see.

  She allowed herself to smile at Max.

  “You didn’t have to do all this.”

  “I wanted to. I’m sorry I ran out the other day. I should have realized you were under a lot of pressure.”

  She looked away, fleeing eye contact. His words were music to her ears, yet she wasn’t ready to hear them. She didn’t want to be faced with more decisions, putting her in the position to make more mistakes.

  Max popped the cork and filled their glasses as Wanda opened the take-out containers and spread them out on the coffee table. They settled down on the throw pillows she had scattered on the floor.

  Max touched his glass to hers.

  “To fresh starts,” he said.

  “You’re very forgiving—too forgiving.” She took a sip and felt the bubbles tickle their way down her throat.

  “It doesn’t always have to be complicated, Wanda.”

  Yet somehow it was in every aspect of her life. She sighed and leaned back against the couch, her hair pooling into a silky chocolate-colored mass on the cushion. Her very best feature was that mane, and most of the time it was pulled into a strict ponytail or chignon, the most practical styles for work. Max reached out and raked his hand through her hair, and for five seconds she was tempted to make things easy. She was tempted to forget about work, forget about protecting herself from heartbreak, and throw herself into Max’s arms. Emotions, after all, were what had always ruled her behavior.

  And that’s how I got into this mess to start with, she thought.

  “I’m hungry,” she announced, hoping and yet deep down inside not hoping, to break the magic.

  Max smiled. “Help yourself. Here… Sorry it’s not too fancy.” He handed her a plastic fork, clearly remembering she was incompetent with chopsticks.

  She shrugged and piled hot noodles onto her plate.

  “That’s OK,” she said, sheepish. “I was ready to resort to cold pizza before you arrived.”

  They ate in silence, their eyes moving to the Eiffel Tower as the five minutes of blinking illumination began. Wanda thought of their first kiss, beneath the tower like two silly tourists. She shouldn’t feel embarrassed. They lived in the neighborhood after all. This was their stomping ground. She felt her face go hot and readied herself to use the spiciness of the sauce as an excuse.

  “I can’t look at it without thinking of us,” Max said, as if reading her mind.

  Wanda closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If she didn’t say something, push the subject forward, she would suffer all evening and probably longer.

  “Max, you were angry—furious, actually—and you walked out. I told you we didn’t need you. Why did you come back?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes downcast.

  “You’re sorry? I was the one who should have—”

  “Look, it’s easy to say that after the fact. As ridiculous as it seems, I understand why you did what you did.” Then he looked up. She tried to turn away, but his eyes held her gaze, their intensity unavoidable. “The one thing I don’t understand is why you’re pushing me away now that I’m back, now that I know.”

  “Because I don’t want to be with someone who feels forced to be with me!” The words came out before Wanda could stop them. She bit her lip. She hadn’t even realized that had been her reason, but in fact it was—in all honesty. That was the big mistake she was fearing: a personal one. She had enough professional problems on her plate. She didn’t want to set herself up for more drama. But she couldn’t explain all of that to Max.

  “I’m not forced, Wanda. I’m here because I want to be.” He took her hand, and warmth traveled through her entire body. He leaned closer, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. She lowered her head, almost allowing herself to relinquish when a cry from Nelly broke into the moment.

  They both jumped, blushing, then scrambled toward the lounger. Wanda reached for Nelly, who howled until her faced turned red.

  “Colic?” Max asked. He might have been startled by the first shriek, but he obviously wasn’t intimidated by a crying baby.

  “No, just needs some milk and a diaper change.” She bounced Nelly into the bedroom, while Max said something about preparing a bottle. Sh
e told him where to find the formula, and when she returned to the room, it was ready. He held out his arms, and gingerly, Wanda passed the baby to him. Nelly sucked down the milk at the speed of light.

  “Hungry girl,” he said.

  “Yeah, like me, and speaking of which, I’ll use this free minute to wolf down the rest of my dinner.” She tried her best to use this interruption as a way to get the night back on the platonic track. But Nelly wasn’t on her side. In minutes, the baby was fast asleep, and Max carried her into her room.

  Still, Wanda wasn’t ready to dive right in as if the separation had never occurred. As soon as Max returned, she launched her plan of attack: asking him questions about his work in Africa, about his new job in Paris, about anything that kept the subject far from the heart of the matter. He asked her similar questions, but she choked out the words “nothing much is new” and was done with it.

  By the time they’d reached the bottom of the champagne, she had fallen asleep on Max’s shoulder.

  ~~~~

  When she woke up, Max was gone. She squinted dizzily and collapsed back into the pillows. What time was it anyway? She rolled over and gazed at the clock: eleven a.m. In a panic, she stumbled over the sheets and across the hall to Nelly’s bedroom—where the baby slept peacefully in her crib. A note was taped to the edge. Wanda tore it off and quickly scanned it.

  Wanda,

  I spent the night on the couch and got up a few times for Nelly. You looked so exhausted… I thought you deserved a good night’s rest. I have lots of sleepless nights to make up to you, so I figured I’d better start now. Sorry I had to leave, but I’m working Christmas Day.

  Max

  Wanda shivered with delight, then stopped. She wasn’t about to fall for him like a giddy teenager, now was she? Have some self-control, she ordered herself. It only got worse when she walked into the living room and saw the unopened gifts. She must have passed out before she even had a chance to pull them out of the bag. Like a thief fearing discovery, she ripped open the box with Nelly’s name on it. Inside, a soft, cuddly stuffed bear with the little girl’s name inscribed on one foot. Quickly, she moved to the second one. With shaking fingers, she pulled out a wooden handcrafted necklace, “from Africa” inscribed on a little tag. He’d remembered her passion for necklaces. She smiled, then returned to her state of panic.

  She had to diffuse the situation, bring a sense of calm back to her tumultuous life. She grabbed her cell phone and scrolled down to his number. She still had it, of course.

  Wanda sent him a polite text message to thank him for the gifts and the lovely evening. Polite and nothing more.

  “Merry Christmas, Wanda,” was his reply.

  Chapter 13

  Whilt wasn’t kicked out of Japan, but Xavier was—sent away by the company with orders never to return. Rita quit out of solidarity and returned to Paris with Xavier.

  It was two days after Christmas, and Wanda sat across from Rita at a café around the corner from the office. She looked tired, with bags under her eyes that Wanda had never noticed before. Her usual spunkiness remained, but it was tempered by the worries of the past weeks. Rita had sought Wanda out, calling her and saying they had to meet as soon as possible.

  “I have to warn you,” Rita said as the waiter set two cups of coffee on the table. “There is illegal money in the other fund too, the one that wasn’t shut down.”

  “Why should I care?” Wanda asked.

  “They plan to consolidate it with the new fund you’ll be managing. They’ll say you verified the investors and investments, even though you haven’t. And if you do check out the fund and say you want to kick out the illegal money, they’ll fire you. Believe me, Wanda.”

  And Wanda did believe Rita, even though she exclaimed, “What?” as if she was astonished. Just instinct in this sort of situation. Panic seized her. They could fire her at any moment. As soon as Whilt management liked, they could accuse her of investing with illegal money. They would blame Xavier for handing her the tainted fund and her for continuing it.

  She’d witnessed this backwards behavior before, and at that point, she should have started worrying about her future at the company. But dumbly, she had shaken her naïve head. It happened about two years earlier. A fund manager was fired for insider trading when in fact his managers had pressured him to obtain certain reports illegally.

  Wanda shivered. If she didn’t have rent to pay and a baby to feed, she would have walked right then and there as Rita warned her about the latest happenings. But she didn’t have that kind of freedom.

  The stories of the past months—years, even—flooded her mind as she took a sip of her coffee-turned-cold. Her own situation, of course, and many others. Elodie’s fall and altered performance review, Thomas’ preferential treatment, Xavier’s dismissal. And straight from the snake pit: Raymond Grant hijacking her hotel room and Jim Tuxford warbling Singing in the Rain in the office’s potted plants.

  Wanda brought the cup to her lips, wetting her throat enough to speak.

  “The place is a creepshow,” she hissed.

  “A creepshow?” Rita wrinkled her brow and smirked.

  “The way Whilt treats employees, treats people—”

  “No explanation required,” Rita said, holding up her hand. “Your deduction seems quite sound.”

  “What will you and Xavier do?” Wanda asked. “Will you stay in Paris, even with the job market as it is?”

  Rita looked down at the table a bit uncomfortably. Wanda raised an eyebrow. Her question hadn’t been particularly personal. Wanda wasn’t one to pry, and now she squirmed, as if she had been intrusive.

  “This can’t go beyond the two of us, but Xavier and I settled with the company. Xavier had more dirt to spill, and Whilt knew he would do it. So they settled. It’s not like we’ve become millionaires—far from it—but at least we don’t have to rush right out and find jobs. It gives us some breathing room. But I shouldn’t be telling anyone. We’ve agreed not to speak about it.”

  “No worries about me telling anyone,” Wanda said. “I’m not exactly a social butterfly at Whilt these days.”

  ~~~~

  “You have the right to refuse the Asia funds,” Galina said over the wire-rimmed glasses she only wore when working. Wanda hadn’t seen them in ages. Galina was poring over her friend’s employment contract and taking notes. Wanda had arrived in a disheveled whirlwind, baby in one arm and briefcase in the other, right after work. Three glasses of wine and a sleeping baby later, Wanda had filled Galina in on the latest developments.

  Now, her breath caught in her throat.

  “I have the right to say ‘no’ to Whilt about something?” she finally choked out.

  “You most certainly do.” Galina’s voice was all business. “Read this line.” She thrust the paper into Wanda’s face and at the same time broke it into vernacular. “You were specifically hired as a manager of European funds. That means, if they want to expand your role, they have to offer you a new contract, and you have the right to accept or decline. There are many other points in this contract I don’t like. No, I don’t like them at all.” She shook her head and scribbled notes onto her legal pad.

  “So what does this mean? What should I do?”

  Galina removed her glasses, set them on the coffee table that separated the two women, and looked Wanda straight in the eye with the powerful gaze that meant she was calling the shots.

  “It means you have to refuse this new assignment, citing the fact that it is not in your contract. French labor laws are strict. And if Whilt can’t respect them, well, maybe Whilt shouldn’t be operating on French soil.”

  Wanda felt her stomach sink. Sure, she’d managed to speak her mind to Louis on a few occasions, or tell off nobodies like Thomas. But the idea of going straight to the top and rebelling—even if she was right—terrified her. Her mouth went dry, but she tried to spit out a few words.

  “Look, maybe it’s not as bad as it seems. I could start out man
aging and then see how it—”

  “Wanda! Do you realize what you’re saying? Isn’t what happened to Xavier enough?”

  “I know, Galina. I just want to turn back the clock to the way things were before.” Wanda pressed her hands against her face, blocking the world from view. She hated herself for this weakness, hated the pathetic sound of her voice. She was glad Galina was the only witness.

  “But you can’t,” Galina said. Wanda wasn’t offended by the firmness in her friend’s voice and the lack of sympathy. They both knew Wanda needed this to set a fire under her, to incite her to action. “These are the cards you were dealt, Wanda. It’s your turn to make a move. And you can’t turn back.”

  Chapter 14

  Wanda spent twelve hours thinking about Max’s text message. Let’s go to Normandy this weekend, the three of us. But this weekend was New Year’s, and a New Year’s date had implications. An Italian friend of hers once told her, “The way you spend New Year’s Eve sets the tone for the rest of your year.” Wanda had pooh-poohed the idea, but somehow, it always turned out to be true. So did she want to spend New Year’s alone with Nelly in their apartment, at Galina’s annual party with a bunch of drunk associates stumbling around or with Max at his family’s house in Normandy? The answer was easy, but if she were to follow her behavior of late, she would not choose the happiest option. She would choose staying home and feeling sorry for herself.

  She probably would have answered that way if it hadn’t been for the conversations with Galina and Rita. They’d propelled her out of her state of indecision, of victimization.

  Her choice, therefore, was Max and Normandy.

  Max showed up at her door right on time, but Wanda, flustered by a personal rather than professional outing, was running late.