This Won’t End Well, page 21
Regardless, now I finally know how Harper became Harper—and my neighbor. And while I want her to be happy, too (and yes, safe), I’m still preemptively sad knowing that she plans to move away from East Haven in less than two years.
And yet just this morning, I went on MIT’s website and downloaded the application package. I don’t know if I’ll apply this year; I have to take the GRE again first, anyway. But it’s good to have something to think about—something productive and within my control.
—AEM
FORTY-THREE
September 23
I was packing up my room this morning—the last time Jon and I spoke, we made plans to go apartment hunting as soon as he returns—when I came across the wig Mo had given me. I looked at it for a while, then stood in front of the mirror and put it on. It wasn’t quite the same without the eyeglasses, but he was right: I look good with a bob. Funny, I thought; Leesa had always told me I would.
I’d been putting off texting her, in part because . . . well, I was ashamed of the way I behaved. But I was also scared she was going to double down on LITEWEIGHT junk being legit (or worse, continue to push it on me). Harper said good friends can agree to disagree. But is that really true when the truth itself is at stake? What if mutual respect isn’t enough to reseal our bond?
No wonder I’ve been avoiding Leesa; in the back of my mind the possibility that we were one argument away from ending our friendship has always been there. But I would never really know until I stopped speculating and risked that conversation. I grabbed my phone from the desk and texted her.
Hi, it’s Annie. Are you free sometime soon?
She wrote back right away.
I could meet today if you’re free.
I am—what time works for you?
If you don’t mind the kids being there, 3 would be good.
I’d love to see them. East Haven Park?
Perfect . . . thank you for reaching out, Annie.
You’re welcome, I started to write. But then I erased it and wrote,
Thank you for responding.
When I went to leave, my mother glanced up at me from the sofa, where she had been reading a book about healing from the inside out.
“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” I told her.
“Where are you heading?”
I hesitated. “To see Leesa and the twins.”
She smiled at me, then stood. “One second.” She dashed into the kitchen and returned with a couple of lollipops, which she pressed into my hand. “Give these to the kids for me.”
I slipped the lollipops into my coat pocket. “Thanks, Ma. You’re the best.”
“I’m glad you and Leesa are making time for each other. Friends like that just don’t come along very often.”
“No, they don’t,” I admitted. “I’ll tell her you say hello.”
My stomach was aflutter as I drove across town. Yes, Leesa had made mistakes—but I had not been fair to her. I wouldn’t fault her if she held that against me. As she said, all of her other friends support her.
Children were running around the playground and lawn when I got to the park. I didn’t see Leesa, but somewhat illogically, I glanced at the bench where Mo and I had sat the last time we were there, half expecting to spot him. Of course, he was nowhere to be seen, but Leesa, Ollie, and Molly came scrambling over the hill.
“Aunt Annie!” squealed Molly and Ollie, wrapping themselves around my legs.
As I squatted to hug them, I wasn’t sure my heart wouldn’t burst right then and there. Who needs to have your own children when you can spend time with your best friend’s adorable twins?
If she’s still your best friend, a little voice chided me.
“We never see you anymore,” said Molly, pouting at me.
“Yeah! Where have you been?” said Ollie.
I smiled at them. “Actually, I was in Paris.”
“Paris!” said Leesa. “Here I thought Florida was exciting!”
I looked up at her. There were bags under her eyes, which I’d never noticed before. She looked tired. “I went to see Jon,” I told her.
She frowned. “I’m glad to hear that, though I didn’t realize he was still in France.”
“We’ve got a lot to catch up on—that is, if you want to catch up.” I turned back to the kids. “The thing is, you two, Aunt Annie was kind of mean to your mom. And that’s not okay, right?”
Molly shook her head. “That’s not okay.”
“That’s right,” I said. Then I stood and, still addressing the twins, met Leesa’s gaze. “I think your mom and I may not agree on everything, but I shouldn’t have pushed her away just because of that.”
“Pushing is bad!” said Ollie. “We use our words!”
I laughed. “Yes, we do. And I should have told her I was feeling left out when she was hanging out with your friends’ mommies.”
Leesa tilted her chin up and looked at me through narrowed eyes. But just as my heart was sinking, her arms were around me and she was hugging me so tight I might have heard a rib crack. “Of course, I forgive you, you numbskull. Thank you for apologizing. Do you forgive me?”
Just hearing her say that—well, it made me all kinds of joyful. We didn’t have to be on the same page about everything to love each other. I grinned at her. “You know I do.”
I remembered the lollipops my mother had given me. “Can the kids have these?” I asked, showing them to Leesa behind my hand. “They’re from my mom.”
“Sure. Guys, why don’t you go into the field while you have those?” she said to the twins as I handed them the treats. “Aunt Annie and I have some more talking to do.” As they ran off, she looped her arm through mine and smiled at me. “Now, tell me everything.”
So I did. I told her about Jon and Paris, and Harper—minus the confidential stuff, of course—and my mom and Viola, and even Mo. When I was done, she just gave me another too-tight hug. “I’m sorry you’ve been through so much over the past couple months. I wish I could have been there for you.”
“That makes two of us, but I only have myself to blame for that.”
“No, I shouldn’t have tried to get you to buy the LITEWEIGHT stuff. I wanted to tell you how angry I was with Jon. I mean, part of me felt like you should have told him the wedding was off.”
“Really?” We’d gone to sit on the bench, and I looked across at her with surprise.
She nodded. “I know you think you’re tough, but sometimes I think you’re too kind. Regardless of his motivation or who he hired to try to make himself feel better, what Jon did made me wonder if he’s really ready for marriage. I mean, trust me, it’s rough even when you know what you want out of life.” She touched my arm lightly. “I’m sorry—it’s hard for me to say that, so I’m sure it’s hard to hear.”
“It’s okay,” I said, watching Ollie scramble up the slide—good thing he’d already finished his lollipop. I turned back to her. “That’s a fair point. More than fair.”
“And what happened with SCI . . .” She pursed her lips. “Annie, I won’t tell you your business, especially when it makes so little sense to me. I can see why you’d just want to walk away. But something tells me you’re not quite done there.”
“You mean I should go ask for my job back?” I asked, incredulous.
She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. But you’re a facts kind of person. I know that’s why LITEWEIGHT bugs you so much.”
I didn’t try to correct her. “I respect that you need to make money. I’m really sorry I wasn’t more understanding about that. I guess I didn’t try to see it from your point of view, which is a hundred percent on me.”
Molly was running toward us, screaming her adorable head off, with Ollie hot on her heels. Leesa, who was pretending she hadn’t seen them yet, said, “Thank you. I’m actually thinking about trying something different, but that’s a subject for when my kids aren’t seven seconds from melting down. You want to get together again sometime soon?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “How busy are you?”
She grinned. “For you? Not busy at all. What I was going to say,” she said, raising her voice as Molly began bawling into her shirt and hollering about how Ollie had poked her, “is that I know you. I’ve known you your whole life. And that’s why I find it hard to believe you’d let SCI get away with lying, especially at the expense of something that’s so important.”
I looked at her for a minute. Then I smiled. “You’re right. I guess sometimes it takes another perspective to help you see what you’ve been missing.”
Leesa winked at me—and I’ll admit, her eyelashes did look phenomenal. “That’s the whole point of having people in your life who love you, Annie.”
I’m inclined to agree.
—AEM
FORTY-FOUR
September 24
TO: SCI BOARD (all)
CC: Bethanne Wynn
FROM: Annie Mercer
SUBJECT: Meeting regarding my resignation and claims against Todd Bizer
Dear Board Members,
I’m writing to request a meeting between myself and all board members regarding the circumstances leading to my resignation, as well as Todd Bizer’s alleged claim that I assaulted him.
As you may or may not be aware, I resigned on July 5, following an incident between myself and Todd. During this incident, which took place on July 3, he insisted I come into the lab during an office holiday, then groped me. I pushed him away from me, which resulted in several thousand dollars’ worth of damage to laboratory equipment. This incident followed approximately six months of harassment on Todd’s part. After attempting to explain what had happened to Bethanne Wynn and being told I was responsible for the incident, I handed in my resignation.
Given Bethanne’s response to my disclosure and our subsequent email communication, I am not confident that she has passed any or all of this information on to you. While I trust that you have access to footage from the surveillance cameras throughout the SCI offices, including footage taken on July 3, I would like you to have my full account of the incident and aftermath before we meet. As such, I’ve attached my email correspondence with Bethanne below, as well as a series of emails from Todd Bizer to me, which I believe provide ample evidence of Todd’s escalating pattern of sexual harassment toward me.
While I would like my professional reputation redeemed, as well as back pay for the months I have been unable to work because of my resignation—which, again, was entirely due to my inability to continue working in an unsafe environment—my primary objective is to ensure that Todd Bizer’s predatory behavior is stopped. Because if I’ve learned one thing during my time at SCI, it’s not a matter of if; it’s when. And I can promise you that most women are (to use Todd’s adjective for me) far less “naïve” than I. When Todd strikes again, rather than a pleasantly worded letter to the board, you will no doubt be looking at a lawsuit with multiple plaintiffs.
I would like to meet October 1 between 9 a.m. and 12 p.m. ET. Please advise.
All best,
Annie E. Mercer
September 25
TO: Ann Mercer
FROM: Todd Bizer, PhD, MBA
SUBJECT: Your position
Dear Annie,
I’m writing to see how you’re doing, and to tell you that I’m very sorry about what transpired this summer. I have deeply regretted firing you ever since I did so—and have continued to feel regretful, as the individual we hired to take over your position has not been the right fit for Sanity Chemical Innovation. Would you be interested in discussing the possibility of returning to SCI? Bethanne tells me you’ve been in contact with the board, which suggests to me you’re interested in continuing your work on bacterium imaging with spatial resolution. Naturally, your rehire would come with a significant bump in compensation and a promotion to senior scientist. Please contact me at your earliest possible convenience.
All best and best,
Todd
September 25
TO: Todd Bizer, PhD, MBA
CC: SCI BOARD (all)
FROM: Annie Mercer
SUBJECT: Re: Your position
Todd,
I would love nothing more than to accept your offer, but I’m afraid that in order to do so, you’ll have to first stick your right hand in a vat of hydrochloric acid; remove 1,4-dioxane from FastDry Sani-Foam and disclose that the batch that’s out may be harmful to anyone with a liver or even one kidney; then resign from SCI. If I were you, I’d move fast on those last two.
For the record, no matter how you attempt to spin it, you did not fire me. I quit. Do not contact me again.
All best and best and best—
Annie
September 25
TO: Ann Mercer
FROM: SCI BOARD (all)
SUBJECT: Re: Meeting regarding my resignation and claims against Todd Bizer
Dear Annie,
Thank you for reaching out to the board. We would be pleased to meet with you, and would like to invite you to attend a meeting with us on October 1, at 9 a.m. in boardroom A at SCI headquarters.
Todd Bizer will not be in attendance, or in the building or area that day. Bethanne Wynn is no longer an SCI employee, so please think of me as your primary contact at SCI until we meet.
Continued success,
Patricia Nelligan
President of the Board of Directors
Sanity Chemical Innovation
FORTY-FIVE
September 27
I called Jon yesterday morning to tell him about my meeting with SCI. We spoke at length—though he wishes I would have gone the lawyer route, he said he was proud of me, and he had a couple good ideas about what I might ask for (i.e., having my non-compete clause voided—it’s a long shot, we both agreed, but it’s one worth taking).
So imagine my surprise when I answered the front door this afternoon and found him standing there.
By the look of his rumpled button-down, he’d come straight from the plane. “Jon, what are you doing here?” He was smiling at me, but for some reason, he didn’t actually seem happy. “Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.” He leaned forward and kissed me. “I was hoping to surprise you.”
“Mission accomplished,” I said, gesturing for him to come in. “I thought you wouldn’t be home until the first.”
“I didn’t want to wait any longer.” He glanced around the living room. “This place is looking good. You’ve been working hard?”
“Ma and I have been working together, actually,” I said, surveying the clutter-free credenza and the new shelving unit my mother had just built, where I’d stored many of the knickknacks that had been lying around.
He raised his eyebrows. “She’s doing well.”
“I’m doing great!” said my mother, emerging from her room. She’d traded her usual sweats for a sweater and a pair of slacks, and she was wearing makeup again. I was about to ask if she’d been expecting him when she put her arm around him and said, “I’m thrilled to see you, Jon, but Annie told me you wouldn’t be home until the beginning of next month?”
“Change of plans, Fae. I just really missed Annie.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m sure you’ve just made Annie’s week,” she said, beaming at him. “I’m about to run to the grocery store, but would you like to join us for dinner? We could even go out if you’d prefer. I feel like I haven’t seen you in years. And we have some wedding planning details to go over.”
Jon looked at me. “I’d love that,” he said. “Annie, does that work for you?”
I’d already cleaned Donna Guinness’ this morning, and though I’m going to Harper’s for wine tomorrow, the evening was wide open. “Works great,” I said.
My mother excused herself, and then it was just Jon and me, standing in the middle of the living room staring at each other. “It’s kind of weird to see you here,” I admitted. “I know we just saw each other last week, but that almost feels like a lifetime ago. I feel bad that you left France early to come back to . . .” I glanced out the window. The leaves were just starting to turn. It was lovely, but not in the same elegant way the Parisian cityscape was. “Well, here.”
“I love fall in Michigan. You know that. And we have to get moving on wedding planning. And like I said, I really wanted to see you. Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“Of course I am. I just wish you hadn’t given up your last four days in France.” It was a sweet gesture, so I wasn’t sure why it bothered me. Maybe because it didn’t make sense. We have the rest of our lives to be together, but who knows the next time he’ll be in Paris?
“I like that you worry about me, but I promise you, this was absolutely what I wanted to do. I should probably go drop my stuff at home and shower. I just wanted to say hi first,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I’m glad you did. How about we go out tonight?”
“Sure. Where to?”
I immediately thought of the restaurant I had gone to with Mo. “I know a good Mexican place that I bet my mother would like. Not sure if that sounds appealing after two and a half months of French cuisine,” I added. “And I have to warn you, their margaritas are the worst.”
“Mexican is great. Meet you back here at five or so?”
“Perfect.”
He kissed me again, this time pulling me close to him. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Are we okay? We never did finish the conversation we were in the middle of before you left.”
“We’re fine,” I said, but my voice was stiff. I didn’t want to talk about Mo with Jon again—ever. For starters, I didn’t want to tell him that Mo had apologized to me, and that for reasons that have evaded capture in my mind, I haven’t responded to him. “I feel okay about everything, and don’t really want to revisit it.”
“Well, that’s all I need to know. Thank you for being so great about . . .” He smiled at me. “About everything.”
“Of course,” I said.
He was looking at me so intently that I felt a little unnerved. “I want you to know that I’m okay not having kids,” he finally said. “My parents are going to be weird about it, but you and I have agreed from the get-go that parenthood wasn’t in the cards for us.”
