“You said what?” Rachel sounds ready to jump through the phone when I call her a few minutes later, hoping the water from John’s shower drowns out our conversation.
“What was I supposed to say?” I squeak, still shaken up over the visuals of what he lodged in my mind. “Seriously, Rachel, we’ve got to get this figured out.”
“I’m on it,” she says cryptically.
I hear the water turn off. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Wait, Case. Two things real quick. Your mom has emailed you several times this week, the last time threatening to fly out if you don’t respond. I’m sorry, I missed her monthly call. I was going to email her back, but I thought it might be better if you did.”
Rachel had always been slightly intimidated by Natalie Lee and I didn’t blame her. My mother was tough and no-nonsense, a stark contrast to Rachel’s mom, who was the Martha Stewart of her time, with homemade cookies waiting for us each day when we burst through the door from school. Their home had been just like her, warm and inviting, and I spent as much time there as I could. Rachel’s dad often joked that he had two daughters. “Okay, I’ll email her,” I said. Not a lot of things got past my mother, and I couldn’t afford to have her snooping around. “What’s the other thing?”
“Promise you won’t be mad.”
“What?”
“Promise first.”
“Fine, I promise. Tell me, Rachel, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m bringing Charlie.”
Silence. “Rachel. Why?” I finally ask, my stomach dropping to my feet. The thought of him, dancing and flirting with Rachel while I played dutiful wife to John, made my heart hurt. To have him a few feet away would be torturous.
“Is there any way you can uninvite him?” I ask.
“It’s going to be fine,” she answers ambiguously.
“I’m not sure how that could possibly be the case,” I say while trying to wipe the visual of them doing the Macarena out of my head.
“Please, Case. Just trust me, okay?” she pleads quietly and I think about everything she’s given up for me since we switched.
“Okay,” I concede.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, I trust you,” I say quickly.
“No, I’m not just sorry for inviting Charlie. I’m sorry for everything.” She says this softly and I imagine her twirling her hair tightly onto her finger like she used to do whenever I was angry with her in high school.
“I’ll live. Just don’t make out in front of me. Then you may have a very awkward girl fight on your hands,” I say.
“Got it,” she says, relieved.
John walks into the room wearing a robe and I silently thank God. The other day, I had to sprint from the bedroom as he began to pull his towel off. “I really gotta go,” I say before hanging up.
“Who was that?” John asks. “And who’s girl fighting?”
“It was Casey. She was just telling me some celebrity gossip,” I say as I slide off the bed and head to the office to check my email.
“Shouldn’t you start getting ready?” he calls out.
I run my hand over the glossy blow-dry I got this morning. “I just need to do my makeup and get dressed.” I glance at the clock. I’ve got forty-five minutes, which is all the time in the world now, but only a few weeks ago, it would’ve barely been enough time to get my makeup done. “Don’t worry, I’ll be beautiful,” I say playfully before shutting the door to the office and firing the computer to life.
I log into my GossipTV account and feel like a stranger as I glance at the hundreds of emails that have come in since Rachel’s been living my life. We had agreed that it would be better if she dealt with all of them, most of them being work related anyway, her BlackBerry vibrating day and night with scripts, rewrites, and updates on the latest celebrity bad behavior. I peruse the in-box for my mom’s email address, locating the guilt-inducing emails she sent. I quickly fire off a short response saying I’ve been insanely busy and will call her as soon as I come up for air. I’m about to shut down the computer when I see an email from Ava Greenwood, one of the network executives. The subject line says Welcome to New York. I click on it.
Dear Casey,
We are thrilled that you’ve decided to accept the New York job with the network! I have to admit, you had us worried there for a little bit, but I’m glad you finally came to your senses. We’d hate to lose you because you were unwilling to relocate. We’ll be in touch with all the details about your new show, but we’re thinking Ellen-meets-Oprah with a little GossipTV thrown in.
All the best,