To: Ms. Ward’s Class
From: JDixon
Date: 4/8
Subject: Ye Olde Parent/Teacher Conferences
Good morrow, good friends!
I was going to do the whole email in olden speak but I’m already bored with it, so I’m switching to acerbic.
Can you believe it’s conference time again? I feel like we just went through this whole rigmarole. I mean, my God, how much more can we talk about our kids?
Apparently Miss Ward has a lot to say, so we will be squeezing our butts back into those little chairs come April 27 and 28.
My plan is to use the same schedule as I did in September. I have attached it below. If you have a problem, keep it to yourself or tell Asami. She has a much more sympathetic ear.
Conference Schedule:
Thursday, April 27
12:30 Lewicki
1:00 Fancy
1:30 Aikens
2:00 Zalis
2:30 Alexander
3:00 Kaplan
Friday, April 28
8:00 Cobb
8:30 Dixon
9:00 Westman
9:30 Baton
10:30 Tucci
11:00 Elder
11:30 Wolffe
1:00 Gordon/Burgess
1:30 Chang
2:00 Brown
By the way, on April 29 there will be a mini mud run at my husband’s store (the Fitting Room, on Drummond St.) to help raise awareness for the governor’s “Get Fit” campaign. If anyone would like to participate, email me and let me know. I can bring five people.
That’s it. Move along. Nothing to see here.
Jen (and Asami in spirit)
* * *
I can tell Garth is taking it a bit easy on me, and frankly, I’m glad. How sad is it that it takes six months to get into shape and basically six days to fall out of shape?
He’s keeping away from anything that might tax my groin area, which unfortunately doesn’t exclude burpees. After five, I cry uncle and he gives me a breather. We have already done push-ups and sit-ups and a bit of jump rope cardio, but I had to stop because the blood was pumping a little too enthusiastically through my downtown area. We’re only twenty minutes into the workout and I’m already done.
“Looking good, Jen.”
“Oh, please, Garth! I’m like a newbie. When was the last time I quit after five burpees?”
“Give yourself a break. We have two and a half weeks to get you back in fighting shape, and it’s not going to happen in one day. I want to work your cardio a little more, so why don’t we fast-walk on the treadmill? I’ll give you a bit of an angle so it feels like a hill.”
I sigh and hoist myself off the floor of Ron’s Gym and Tan. I haven’t been down here in a few weeks and I forgot all the little changes I made to the décor over the winter. The is now a red Nike poster with black letters that says, “If no one thinks you can, then you have to.” It was a Christmas gift from Peetsa and I love it. I also put in a decorative basket of towels for when I sweat, and a pitcher of water, which sometimes has lemons in it and sometimes cucumbers. I usually light a Bay Breeze Yankee Candle, too. All in all, it’s a nice place to work out.
“What are you doing for your birthday?” Garth asks as he pushes the buttons on our treadmill.
“I’m not sure.” I’m fast-walking but I sneak a look at Garth. “Why? Is Ron planning something?”
I sound a bit desperate. Things at home have been pretty tense for the past week. I hope Max isn’t picking up on it. I mean, we still eat dinner together and hang out, but Ron has a force field around him when it comes to me. We talked the morning after the weird intervention thing, when he found me sleeping in Max’s bed. Ron said he just needed time and space and would I just please give it to him, which I have, but it’s been really hard. I just want to say over and over how sorry I am and how much I love him, but he won’t give me the chance.
“Not that I know of,” Garth says in answer to my birthday plans question, and I’m sure he’s right. He slows down the treadmill and looks at me thoughtfully.
“Are you okay with just doing the store’s mini mudder?”
“Totally okay.” I huff and puff. “I’m so out of shape, I’ll be lucky to get through it.”
“I’m going to make sure you are more than ready.”
* * *
After Garth leaves, I sit down at the kitchen-counter office with ice on my groin to check my emails.
I have a lot of responses, so I don’t even bother opening Sasha Lewicki’s. I don’t really need to know when she will be out of the office until.
To: JDixon
From: AChang
Date: 4/8
Subject: Ye Olde Parent/Teacher Conference
Jennifer,
I have not seen you in a while. I assume you have recovered from your accident.
Thank you for taking care of the conference schedule. Can you meet me for tea before pickup tomorrow? I have a new theory about you-know-who.
Asami
Oh, for the love of God, woman, give it up. I’m going to have to shut her down. I email that I will meet her at Starbucks tomorrow at two. She needs a reality check.
To: JDixon
From: KFancy
Date: 4/8
Subject: Ye Olde Parent/Teacher Conference
Hi, Jen,
Well, it’s lucky I didn’t plan a trip back to Manhattan, or I would have been in trouble again. My conference time is fine.
By the way, I would love to participate in the mud run at your husband’s store. What a cute idea. It will be nice and easy after I do the real KC mud run the week before. Will you be doing it too?
Thanks,
Kim
I figured she would take the bait. Kim Fancy is just the incentive I need to truly rock the store’s mud run.
To: JDixon
From MJBaton
Date: 4/8
Subject: Ye Olde Parent/Teacher Conference
Dear Jen,
Our conference time is great and Jean-Luc would like to participate in the mud run at your husband’s store. Would that be okay?
Thanks,
Mary Jo
Jean-Luc Baton wearing shorts and working out? Uh, yes, please. Then I open Shirleen Cobb’s response and it gives me the only good laugh I’ve had in days.
To: JDixon
From: SCobb
Date: 4/8
Subject: Ye Olde Parent/Teacher Conference
Jennifer,
Conference time is fine. I would like to have helped you and your husband out with the mud run thingy but I have been training at Curves for about two months and I don’t want to do anything that might interfere with my progress.
Shirleen
Much to my surprise, no one had a problem with their conference time and I filled all five spots for the mini mud run. Besides Kim and Jean-Luc, Hunter’s two moms signed up, and so did Ali Gordon.
When I see her email, it reminds me that I owe Don one. The morning after Flirty-Text-Gate, he wrote me a very nice note explaining that he showed up at Garozzo’s to let me know that he thinks I’m awesome, but not in that way. Apparently he’s been trying to get back together with Ali and all his romantic focus has been on that. He said he really had wanted to meet me for coffee all those times but just to talk to me about her. He told me he loved our texting banter, but never thought of it going beyond that.
When I got your invitation for sex, I was surprised and flattered. I mean, really flattered. But I knew there was no way it was going to happen. I wanted to talk to you about it in person and not just leave you hanging alone at the restaurant. You’re a great girl and I was worried I had done something to lead you on. Now that I know the texts weren’t meant for me, it all makes sense.
I hope you and Ron were able to laugh it off. He didn’t look too happy, but I’m sure once you explained it to him, he was fine. If not, I’d be happy to talk to him and set him straight.
Cheers,
Don
Is he kidding me? This is the guy who said he wanted to help me work out. If that’s not flirting, then someone hand me a dictionary. That’s such a guy’s way out. Oh, you didn’t want to have sex with me? Yeah, me either. It was just banter. Right, Don, hold on to that.
I’m not going to lie. Finding out that my little crush was possibly only one-sided all along was a real punch in the boob. I know I said the texts didn’t mean anything and they were just for fun, but the sad truth is that, once again, Don Burgess is not interested in me. At least this time we’re friends—or we were friends; I’m not sure what we are now.
I write Don back a note saying all is well and wasn’t that hilarious and blah blah blah. I wish him luck with Ali and say I’ll see him around.
Good-bye, Suchafox! It was fun while it lasted.
* * *
April is my favorite month, and not just because it’s my birthday. I love the way the air smells of mud created by the ground thawing. It’s one of the first signs of spring and always makes me think of my childhood.
I take a deep breath before I head into Starbucks for my Asami intervention. I spot her standing in line to order, so I walk up beside her and say, “Okay, what’s your new theory?”
I kind of like the way my relationship with Asami works. There’s no preamble, no fake kisses and chitchat. We just get right down to it.
“It’s Miss Ward,” Asami blurts.
Oh, Jesus, this is going to be worse than I thought.
“My treat today,” she continues. “What would you like?”
“Wow, thanks. I’ll have a tall Peach Tranquility. I’ll go grab the couch for us.”
I settle in and check my phone for messages, hoping for something from Ron, but no luck. He’s still being chilly. When Asami joins me, she places a giant cookie between us. Chocolate may be a no-no for me but I never say no to a chocolate chip cookie.
“Help yourself,” she says as she takes off her sweater.
Who is this woman? Or maybe this has been the real Asami all along and I just never saw it. I decide I need to be kind but firm about her crazy witch-hunt.
“I have to say something to you and I hope you hear me,” I begin. “I really think you’re barking at the moon. I know it’s a bit of a mystery, who this Sasha Lewicki woman really is, but in the grander scheme of things, who cares? Is it hurting Suni in any way? Is it affecting the quality of your day-to-day life? Probably not, so why don’t you just drop it?”
I silently give myself props for my nice little speech. I see that Asami’s frown has formed a small “v” on her forehead and her mouth is poised in an “o.” I take this moment to break off a bit of the cookie and pop it in my mouth, but find to my horror that it’s filled with raisins, not chocolate chips. There are few things in life more disappointing. I would spit it out if that was socially acceptable.
Asami still hasn’t said anything, but she is looking at me.
“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings. I just think there are more important things to worry about.”
She nods. “You’re right, there are. I’m not sure why I’m so focused on it.”
“Well, it will definitely go down as one of the great mysteries of room 147,” I proclaim. “That and how Mary Jo Baton landed Jean-Luc for a husband.”
She smiles at my little joke. I think there’s hope for Asami’s sense of humor after all.
* * *
I gratefully lower myself into bed and place a big bag of ice on my groin. It only bothers me after a long day like the one I just had. Usually Ron would want to fool around tonight, because, just like every man in the world, he thinks sex is the perfect gift to give your wife on her birthday. But the way things have been, I’m really not sure. He was very sweet this morning when he and Max gave me breakfast in bed, but then I didn’t hear from him all day. It was actually fine. I was unexpectedly busy. The girls surprised me on FaceTime by singing the Beatles’ version of “Happy Birthday” with Travis on bass and Raj on tambourine. Later I had lunch with Nina, Peetsa, and Ravi at the place with the signs (Stu’s Diner), where we pigged out on homemade chili and Steph gave me a whole apple pie to take home. Stu’s only had one new sign—a small one hanging over the front door. It said,
“If I Wanted to Listen to an Asshole, I’d Fart”
I spent the rest of the afternoon getting my hair cut and blown out, and topped the day off having a really fun dinner with my folks and Max and Ron at Minsky’s. They have the best pizza in KC. Some might say Waldo’s is better, but we’re a Minsky’s family from way back. We always order the same thing—a Papa Minsky’s with pepperoni, Italian sausage, salami, and roasted red peppers. You don’t want to be sleeping with any of us on a Minsky’s night, let me tell you.
So this is forty-eight. All things considered, I’ll take it over twenty-eight any day. Especially my twenty-eight, which saw me living with my parents and raising two small kids. As the great Billy Joel once said, “It’s some kind of miracle that I survived.” This is definitely my time to remember.