“You have a degree in women’s studies from Wesleyan University, is that right?” asked the reporter. She had changed out of the muck boots in the mudroom and was back in her Brooklyn boots. She tapped the heel of one against the toe of the other.
“I have a double major in psychology and Gender and Sexuality, with a minor in data analysis,” said Natalie, sitting up straight. It felt good to say that again, because sometimes she forgot. “I worked for a wearable-tech start-up in Boston before we moved here.”
“Interesting! Why’d you leave that job?”
What Austin probably meant to say wasWe decided together to make a big life change.But what he actually said was “She left for me.” That part was in the article too.
“Oh my god, Natalie,” says Jordan now. “Barefoot and pregnant? Why would hesaysomething like that?”
“He didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“Is there a good way to mean it?”
“He wasjoking,” says Natalie. “It was part of a bigger thought, but the reporter only took what she wanted. You know Austin! He’s a goofball. He didn’t mean anything by it. He was just supposed to look good in the photos. He went off script.”
“I’ll say,” says Jordan. “Wow. They made it thecaption.”
“And the pull quote,” says Natalie miserably.
“There are thousands of comments on this article.” Jordan clicks on one. She cringes. Another. She shudders. On and on they go, and on and on and on. “You could spend days inside the comments section.”
“But you’ve seen worse, right?” Natalie is desperate now, desperate for her sister to make her feel better. “You’ve seen some really bad stuff, and you’ve fixed it.”
“I’ve seen some things,” says Jordan, her expression unreadable.
“You have to help me, Jordan. I can’t have this happen.”
“You can’t have what, exactly, happen?”
“This.” She gestures toward the phone. “Any of it.” Jordan is still looking through the comments. “I can’t have the wave of public opinion turn against me. I can’t lose all of my sponsorships.Please, help me.”
Instead of saying what Natalie wants her to say, which isof course I’ll help you, Jordan asks, “What did Austin say?”
Natalie crosses her arms. “We haven’t had a chance to talk it through. But I’m sure he’d say I’m overreacting.”
Jordan blows out a puff of air that, if it were 2004, the year of Jordan’s Bad Bangs, would have raised said bangs and settled them back down. “I think you need to figure out what he was doing, Natalie. I think that’s your first step, before you figure out how to handle it.”
“I told you! He was joking. He made a bad joke.”
“I don’t know, Nat,” she says. “This seems bigger than a joke. This seems like—I mean, is this really what he thinks, maybe? And that’s the real issue?”
Natalie’s ire rises as swiftly as a river with a broken dam. “Oh mygod, Jordan. Are you serious right now?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s not what he thinks.”
“If you say so.”
“So you’ll help me, right?”
Jordan says, “I don’t think I can.”
For what is probably the one time in the history of the universe, the second half of the ride to Logan is smooth as whipped butter, and Mae and Leo are at the arrivals pickup area well ahead of time. Shechooses a spot that she hopes is out of view of airport security (those guys are famously scary), unloads Leo from the car, and takes him through his warm-up exercises.
Leo does beautifully, considering this is a new and potentially stressful environment with all manner of people coming in and out of the doors. A wheelchair, a woman on crutches, small, shrieking children, rumbling luggage carts. Through all of this, Leo keeps his attention on Mae. He’s amazing! Should she record? Hal should see this. There’s nowhere to prop her phone that makes sense but she does her best to hold it in one hand and capture the highlights.Good boy, Leo.
But.
