actually arguing, for the most part.”
“As you do.”
Nomi was up to date on everything. Via text, she had distilled her opinion on the situation down to two sentences. You shouldn’t have lied to him, but shit happens. You can’t have a second kid to make up for what you did.
“Anyway,” Elisabeth said now. “Let me tell you something far more interesting than that. I was up late on Saturday googling Sam’s boyfriend and it turns out he was married before. I don’t think she has any idea.”
“Yikes,” Nomi said.
“And the marriage only lasted six months. I’m dying to know what happened. Did she leave him because he cheated? Is he looking for a do-over with a younger, more naïve woman? I can’t stop thinking about it. Do you think I should warn her?”
Nomi was silent for so long that Elisabeth thought she must have fallen asleep.
Then Nomi said, “Are you okay?” in such a concerned way that Elisabeth felt embarrassed that two other people were listening.
“Is it Andrew? Or your dad? Or all of it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You focus on someone else’s problems when you want to avoid whatever’s upsetting you in your own life. That’s your thing.”
The comment stung, but Elisabeth thought it over.
“Do not,” she said, when she couldn’t think of a more convincing response.
“Remember you had the cleaning lady who thought her husband was cheating, and you went full Nancy Drew on the guy? It was right after the Washington Post gave your book that bad review.”
“Well, he was cheating.”
“And when you were trying to get pregnant, that old man in your office died and you got kind of obsessed with taking care of his wife.”
“Not obsessed,” Elisabeth said. “I visited her a few times, and we talked on the phone a lot. She was lonely.”
“You made her all those cakes and roast chickens.”
“Andrew made them!”
“Because you forced him to,” Nomi said. “You’re an empath, you worry about people. It’s good.”
“Thank you.”
“But sometimes, it’s not that good.”
“I see what you’re saying, but honestly—I care about Sam because I like her so much. She’s the closest thing I have to a real friend there. Maybe that’s my problem. I have no friends.”
“I don’t have any either,” Nomi said. “It’s our age.”
“Yes, you do, you have tons. What about that blonde in your building? And that funny one who’s married to Brian’s coworker?”
“But I never see them. Anyway. Most Brooklyn moms would drive you insane, believe me.”
“We used to have so much free time,” Elisabeth said. “Don’t you miss having absolutely nothing to do on a Sunday? Or the excitement of going on a first date?”
“It wasn’t exciting, it was sickening,” Nomi said. “You’re forgetting all the things a woman worries about on a first date—Is my outfit cute? Will we have anything to talk about? Is this guy gonna murder me?”
Elisabeth laughed.
“If I lived here, I would see you all the time,” she said.
“You probably wouldn’t,” Nomi said. “We’d both be too busy.”
“We’d find a way. We always did before.”
“Maybe. But the same limited resources that make the city annoying for adults apply even more so to kids,” Nomi said. “The competition trying to get your toddler into school. Christ, trying to get a swing at the playground is a struggle. Sometimes it feels like sixth grade, when everyone bought the same sweater because the most popular girl wore it to school the day before. They all have identical strollers. What’s up with that? They truly think if you did not pay a grand for it, the wheels are going to fall off or something.”
“But you love it here.”
“I do. It’s all worth it to me. It never seemed like it was worth it to you.”
“I didn’t think it was,” Elisabeth said.
She wondered if it was in her blood, her cells, her DNA, this inability to be satisfied with what she had.
In sync, the masseuses whispered that they could slowly flip over for the second half.
The faceup part always made Elisabeth feel so much more vulnerable. Even more so since Nomi had decided to broadcast her troubles.
They lay in silence for a while.
Then Elisabeth said, “Andrew made us an appointment with Dr. Chen for later today. Without telling me.”
“Ahh,” Nomi said.
Elisabeth could hear her lifting her head.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
* * *
—
Everyone in the waiting room had funeral face. Closed-lipped expressions, resigned, gloomy.
In the past, when she had to be here every day, it made Elisabeth want to shout something inappropriate, or shower the crowd