Linda is quintessential LA. She drives a convertible with the top down; her house sits on the bluffs of Malibu though she hates to swim in the ocean. She has two dogs, Pinky and Princess. She dresses them in identical sweaters, like twins, but somehow is able to tell them apart. Though she sleeps with the dogs nightly, she is a sworn germophobe. Nearing fifty, Linda dresses and looks like she’s in her thirties. Swearing that green tea is the fountain of youth, she devours gallons a week. The Botox remains unmentioned.
Linda started her career as an intern at the agency. Over drinks one night she confided that she only had to sleep with two partners before climbing the ranks. That one of them was a woman barely fazed her. When I asked her if she had ever demanded the same from underlings, she winked and told me she would never tell. Linda changed her hair color by the decade. Currently a redhead, in the nineties she was a blonde, but she decided they really don’t have more fun. A brunette before that, she has forgotten her natural shade. And since she keeps her weekly Brazilian wax appointment, she said, she’ll never find out.
“Good,” I answer her over the phone, our connection clear. She was also the first one I called when I decided to come back home. I needed to let her know that I wouldn’t be available for any new assignments for a while. Not a religious person, she had nonetheless wished me Godspeed and the best for my father.
“And your daddy? How is he?” she asks me now.
“Still sleeping,” I reply, the only answer I have at hand.
“Excellent,” Linda does not miss a beat. “The rest will do him good. And your family? How are they holding up?”
“As well as can be expected,” I answer. As close as we are, I have never told her or anyone about my past. “Did you get the last set of pictures I sent you?” I ask, eager to change the subject.
“Of the Nor’easter that hit New England? Storm of the century? They were fabulous. I have three papers that made bids for them. We’ll play them against each other for a bit.”
“Thanks.” The money has never excited me much. With no one to spend it on, it sits in the bank. Linda, however, is continually frustrated with me when locale trumps payment for my choice of assignments. She is sure my talent can bring in the big bucks, plus, for her, every assignment’s worth is dependent on the commission it pays her. “That’s why I’m calling. I need a job.”
It is usually the other way around: Linda contacts me with a slew of new projects. She runs down the list until one sounds appealing. I am her favorite client because there are no limitations on where I will go or when. It is easy for me to drop everything since I have nothing to hold me. No husband or children whose schedules will be interrupted by mine.
“Excellent! I have an online magazine that wants pictures of Russia.” She pauses as she consults her iPad. Linda has very few attachments in her life but if her tablet could be surgically connected to her, she’d be thrilled. “A paper in London wants to follow up on the rape crisis in India. An in-depth exposé. May require three to six months of time, but that hasn’t stopped you before.” She sounds pleased. “Which one should I schedule you in for?”
I pause, considering her offer of India. My heritage, my ancestral home. “No,” I murmur, keeping my voice light, the panic at bay. Though we went once when I was a child, I’ve never felt the yearning to return. “Not India. Actually, I need something closer to home.” I glance out the window of the café I have been sitting in for the last few hours. With a cup in hand, I have watched as the diverse population of Palo Alto has found the one thing they have in common—the need for expensive coffee. “The Bay Area, in fact. No traveling.”
Linda falls silent, as I expected she might. A question remains unspoken. I wait to see if she will ask it, but in the end I know her decision. Even if it were to save her life, she will not pry into yours. I imagine she has secrets of her own that she holds dear, and she therefore understands others’ need to keep their own counsel. Whatever her reasoning, I appreciate her restraint. “Let me see what I find.”