Uptown Girl (20 page)

The following Tuesday morning, Kate stood in her bedroom before a full-length mirror holding a hip but dignified blouse up to herself. Deciding against it, she threw it onto the pile of rejected clothes that had already formed on her bed. ‘What am I going to wear?' she asked her reflection. She turned away and paused for a moment. Why did she even care? Billy meant nothing to her, despite his obvious attractions. She went to her tiny closet and began to look for the green crew neck top that looked so good on her. As she pulled it off the hanger she stopped dead. Billy Nolan was taking up more space in her mind than he ought to. And he had seen her before. It wasn't like she was going to make a different impression on him this time.

She took a deep breath and looked back steadily at herself. ‘Hello,' she said as if talking to someone else. ‘Billy, I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day.' Kate gritted her teeth. Apologies –
especially to those you didn't like – were galling. But she tried to barrel ahead.

It was more difficult than she had imagined. She thought of all the children that she had asked to do role play: children who were supposed to talk to the fathers who had left the family, children who were tired of being scolded, children who had to practice asking for what they wanted. Now, when she had to try – and she was doing it without a witness – she had a new compassion for her little clients.

The phone rang and she was relieved at the distraction, until she saw the phone number. Somehow, she didn't feel like speaking to Michael right now and it was odd for him to be calling her on a school morning. Reluctantly, she picked up the phone.

‘Hi,' he said cheerfully. ‘Did I wake you up?' Kate assured him that he hadn't. ‘Look, I just thought that we might get together tonight.' For a moment, Kate was confused. They never got together on Tuesdays. It was always Wednesdays.

‘Is something wrong?' Kate asked.

‘Yeah. I miss you,' Michael said, and Kate was surprised to feel mildly irritated.

‘I miss you, too,' she lied. She paused for a minute, surprised by her own fib. She wondered whether the space that she should reserve for missing Michael might now be taken up by Billy. It was absolutely absurd and she would put a stop to it. Meanwhile, there was a growing silence
between her and Michael. ‘I'm sorry,' she told him, ‘but I have errands I have to run tonight.'

‘Oh. Okay. No problem. See you tomorrow, I guess.'

‘Yes,' Kate said. ‘I'll see you tomorrow.' She hung up the phone, sighed, and went back to the task at hand.

Later that day, after school had finished, she arrived at the Barber Bar, her hair perfectly coiffed, looking as if she was about to take over a Fortune 500 company. She'd taken the subway from school to the stop she thought was closest to Billy Nolan's place of business. All was quiet in the area, and the bar itself looked very closed but she knocked on the door anyway.

‘We ain't open until…' a woman's voice called out. Suddenly the door opened and a tall, skinny blonde in her late thirties in old jeans and a cut-off top stood before her. She was polishing a glass with the apron she had on and looked at Kate suspiciously. ‘Hey, listen. If you're lost, I'm dyslexic so I don't give directions. And unless you're a customer you don't get to use this toilet,' she said. She was about to slam the door when Kate put up her hand and held it open. Then the woman paused. ‘The Redhead,' she said as if she already knew everything about her.

‘Excuse me?' Kate asked. Had her reputation preceded her? ‘Actually I am looking for someone who works here…Billy Nolan.' Kate blushed. She thought of all the women he had dumped and
realized that this barmaid had probably seen dozens of them. How many women must have turned up on this door step and said the very same thing?

‘Of course you are,' the woman said tiredly, confirming Kate's fear. ‘But he ain't on tonight until six.'

Kate looked at her watch. She had almost two hours to wait. She sighed, more aggravated than ever. ‘Well, thank you anyway,' she said, and turned to leave. She'd find somewhere in this ruin of a neighborhood to have a cup of coffee. She doubted there would be a Starbucks for miles.

But before she'd taken more than three steps the barmaid must have taken pity on her. ‘Hey!' she called after her. ‘You the one who told him his nickname?'

Kate turned around and nodded. ‘Dumping Billy,' she said. ‘Isn't that what everyone calls him?'

‘Yeah. He just didn't know it.' She laughed. ‘Put him in quite a spin.' She looked Kate over again.

‘Well, I'll come back later,' Kate said. At least she'd had some impact on the arrogant bastard. That might help her on this errand she had reluctantly taken on.

‘Look, if you gotta see him now, he just lives above the bar.' She pointed to a buzzer on the other side of the doorway.

‘That's okay. I'll come back another…' Before Kate could get the words out, the woman rang the buzzer and shouted up.

‘Hey, Billy! You got company and – surprise, surprise – it's a woman,' she shouted into the intercom.

‘Thanks, Mary,' Billy's voice said through the speaker. ‘I'll buzz.'

Kate gave Mary a small half-smile. ‘Thanks,' she said, but she wasn't sure she meant it.

‘Don't mention it, Red,' the barmaid replied.

‘I'm Kate,' Kate told her, just to prevent ‘Red' from ever escaping the woman's thin lips again.

A smile spread across Mary's face. ‘Oh. Kate…' she said knowingly, and she turned back into the bar. Meanwhile the door buzzed open. Kate smoothed her hair once, and put her hand on the doorknob. She ascended the steps to the landing of the first floor where a door stood open. She peered in at the room before her. It was not at all what she would have predicted. Instead of being a ‘bachelor pad' filled with empty pizza boxes and furniture that looked as if it had fallen from a truck, the room had a polished wooden floor, a shabby but attractive Persian rug, a big worn brown leather Chesterfield sofa and two walls of bookshelves filled to the ceiling with hundreds of books. A window seat was built into one bookshelf wall and the window was open. Through it there was the view of a tree in new leaf and a bit of the sky, though the billowing white curtains kept obscuring the small vista. Altogether it was charming, and far more homey and sophisticated than Kate would ever have given Billy Nolan credit for.

Billy sat with his back to her at a mahogany desk, transfixed by the laptop screen in front of him. Kate entered the room and looked around. Her surprise continued to grow. Almost half the books on the shelves were in French, and she now could see two nicely framed Daumier prints. A woman must have furnished this place, she thought. ‘Hello,' she said.

Billy did not move his eyes from the monitor. ‘Hold on. Hold on. I'm just catching up on my e-mail,' was all he offered as a greeting.

‘This won't take long,' Kate began. Billy pulled his hands off the keyboard and spun around. There was an awkward silence.

‘I d-d-didn't realize it was you,' Billy stammered. ‘I thought I had to interview a n-n-new barmaid.'

‘I don't think I'm qualified for the job,' Kate said and was then ready to bite her tongue. She sounded snotty, and she really hadn't meant to.

Billy stood up. ‘So did you just come over here to turn down a job offer or is there more to this unexpected visit?' he asked.

The two of them stood across the room from one another, the sofa and plenty of tension between them. Kate tried to decide whether it would be best to just blurt out her apology and throw out her dare or try to first bridge the gap between them. Everything she had practiced seemed inappropriate, as if she were about to deliver a lecture to a Sunday school. ‘I wanted to…' she began.

‘Yes?' Billy raised his eyebrows. It was annoying
to her to see how attractive he was, even when he was in deshabille; his hair in disarray, his shirt untucked and open to the third button. She tore her eyes away from him.

‘I wanted to apologize for…' but it all came out wrong. ‘I wanted to apologize for not telling you the truth the other night.'

Billy laughed. ‘That doesn't sound like much of an apology to me,' he told her.

‘I realize after what happened I may not be your favorite person, but that's not what counts,' she explained. She put her purse down on the desk.

‘It isn't?' Billy asked.

‘No. What counts is that Bina really likes you,' Kate said. This was going badly. She was being either too direct or too indirect, and was annoyed at her inability to really express herself to this guy. ‘And I think you might like her.'

‘Oh, really?' Billy smirked. ‘And what would give you insight to my feelings?'

‘Look, it's none of my business but…'

‘Well, you finally got something right,' he said, and sat down on the Chesterfield. ‘What is your business anyway?'

‘I'm a psychologist,' she said.

He shook his head. ‘I should have known,' he muttered. ‘Nothing worse than a psychologist except a psychiatrist.'

‘How would you know?' she asked. ‘Have you dated both?'

‘No. I consulted both. A long time ago. And they were ineffectual intellectuals.'

She wondered what a mook like him had gone into therapy for but knew better than to ask. She just walked over to the little window seat and tried again.

‘I don't like this “Dumping Billy” stuff,' he said.

‘I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, but I'm not responsible for the name. Apparently, everybody uses it.'

‘Apparently,' he said dryly. ‘As if my personal life is anyone else's business.'

Here was her chance to put in one more plug for Bina. It was only because she had promised Elliot that she pushed forward. ‘Well, that's why I dropped by. Of course, it's none of my business but I think you two would be very…you know…good for one another…which would be quite…something…so what I am saying is basically what I have already said…you know?' What the hell did she just say? she thought. She'd never been less articulate in her whole life.

‘Actually, no,' Billy said, gently smiling at her obvious unease.

‘Oh, I just knew you would make this difficult!' Kate stood up and walked to the door in frustration. It was never so hard to speak with children. Or to Elliot. Or Bina, the girls or even Michael. Why was she having such a hard time talking to Billy Nolan?

‘Why should I go out with Bina? I pick my
own women. And she looks like a husband-hunter anyway,' Billy said. ‘Not my type.'

Kate could take his slight mocking of her, but how dare he insult her friend! ‘That is totally out of line! You're a loser!' she almost shouted at him.

‘Me!?' Billy asked. He got up from the couch and faced her. ‘Hey, I own this place. I built it up from nothing. I've got bigger plans, too! I'll be opening a restaurant next year.'

‘Yes. But can you manage one decent relationship?' she asked.

‘And I can date anyone I want!'

‘NOT ANYONE. YOU CAN'T DATE ME!' Kate flared. ‘You are still just a Mick who never even got out of Brooklyn. The trick with you is you are slightly better-looking on the outside than you are on the inside and they're in constant conflict. That is why you don't know you're a loser.' Kate was out of breath and her face was hot. This was not going well. She looked at Billy, who was surprisingly cool.

‘Are you speaking as a doctor, or as a bitch?' he asked with a coldness that cut right through her.

Kate turned to leave, then checked herself, remembering her mission. She crossed to the desk, picked up her purse and muttered almost under her breath. But she made sure it was loud enough for Billy to hear. ‘You couldn't do it anyway.'

‘Do what?' he demanded.

Kate turned around to face him, her eyes blazing. The heat was really on. They stared each other
down as they had in the bowling alley the other night. ‘Nothing,' she spat. ‘Absolutely nothing.'

‘Tell me,' he said through clenched teeth, leaning across the back of the sofa toward her.

Kate almost smiled because she knew that she'd be victorious. He was no more difficult than Tina Foster. ‘It's just that when I came here I knew you couldn't date Bina for more than a week or two,' she said, self-assured, almost as snotty as possible. ‘You obviously have a repetition compulsion.'

‘A what?' Billy asked, indignant.

‘A repetition compulsion,' Kate replied impatiently.

‘What's that? Some jargon from the DSM 4?'

Kate was surprised he knew about the DSM – the bible of mental dysfunctions that was compiled regularly for mental health professionals. Still, she didn't show her surprise. ‘It's not a DSM 4 construct. It's an older Freudian theoretical position.'

‘I thought Freud was unpopular these days? Oedipus complex, penis envy. Isn't that all pretty much out of date? After all, he was a guy who didn't know what women wanted.'

Once again, Kate was surprised by his casual familiarity with things she figured he had never heard of. ‘I think it's still valid,' she said. ‘Especially in your case. It roughly defines a compulsive neurotic behavior where a person repeats an altered version of traumatic events from their past. Once it starts, the compulsion requires the person to keep doing the maladaptive behavior.'

‘Oh, really?' Billy asked, and, as she hoped, he was definitely becoming belligerent. ‘And what maladaptive behavior would I be repeating?'

‘An attempt at intimacy that has to be followed by abandonment. And each time you pick an inappropriate partner to ensure the eventual split.'

‘And how do you know all of this about me?' he asked.

‘Well, I am a doctor,' she said, ‘and I do know several of the inappropriate women you've played the pattern out with. I just thought Bina might be a real person, someone you could actually bond with. She isn't one of your typical Brooklyn big haired Bitches. And she's quite sad at the moment, with Jack away. Anyway, it didn't work, and it doesn't matter to me or to Bina. I'm just sorry I gave you an easy excuse not to conquer it.'