‘I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I really wish it could be different.’ Natalie folded her hands and looked at the table.
The coffee shop in Georgetown where they were seated buzzed with the lunchtime rush: young professionals in suits, college students in hoodies, and mommies clad in spandex. Karolina was both surprised and grateful that she hadn’t yet run into anyone she knew.
‘I understand,’ Karolina said quietly, although she didn’t.
‘You know that if it were up to me, there would be no question. But the board was unanimous. And let me stress that it’s temporary. Only until this whole … situation can be cleared up.’
‘Uh-huh.’
Natalie reached across the bistro table and placed her hand on Karolina’s elbow. ‘Lina, say something. Please. Is there anything I can do?’
‘You can give me my position back. You know firsthand that I would never do what I’m accused of, and that I care about helping this school more than anyone else does.’
‘I wish I could, honey. But the school is one hundred percent reliant on the generosity of its donors, the largest of whom make up the board, and they voted to suspend you temporarily – until this can all be cleared up. Any type of legal trouble or negative media attention detracts from our mission. You must understand that.’
‘I do. I just hate it.’
‘I hate it too.’
A moment of awkward silence followed before Natalie pressed her palms to the table. ‘I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have parent meetings all afternoon.’
‘Of course,’ Karolina hurried to say, although she was caught off guard by how abruptly Natalie was ending their meeting.
‘Stay in touch? And let me know if there’s anything I can do.’
Karolina stood up to hug her goodbye and could feel the eyes of the surrounding customers on her. She was accustomed to it – if you were six feet tall and a former cover girl, you got used to people staring – but now she had to wonder if they recognized her because of the news. Today’s Post was particularly nasty: a photo of Karolina from the Greenwich Whole Foods with HOT MESS! in all caps and size-100 font. Emily had talked her down when Karolina called, half-hysterical; said she was working on a plan.
‘Will do,’ Karolina said, but Natalie was halfway to the door. Karolina sat back down and blew into her tea. A man in his forties wearing an ugly gray suit diverted his eyes when she looked at him.
Her phone rang. ‘Trip?’
His voice was familiar but distant. ‘Lina? Hi. Okay, I spoke to Graham, and it’s all worked out. You’re welcome to attend Harry’s swim meet today.’ He said this as if he had secured primary custody for Karolina. ‘I think, under the circumstances, that’s a fairly generous—’
‘Cut the shit, Trip. You know exactly what’s happening here and so do I.’
‘Lina, it’s not quite that—’
‘I’ll be at the meet at four.’
‘One more thing …’ Trip sounded apprehensive. ‘Graham insists that the visit be supervised.’
‘Supervised? It’s at the middle school pool. With his entire team and all the other parents and coaches. Come on, Trip. That’s ridiculous.’
‘Those are the terms for a visit with his son.’
‘His son? Whose side are you on here?’
‘I’m trying to remain impartial and represent both of you fairly.’ Trip paused, and his voice softened. ‘I really am sorry, Lina, but we both know that he has sole custody of Harry.’
Karolina inhaled sharply, as though she’d been punched. ‘How many times did I ask Graham to adopt Harry? A hundred? Three hundred? There was always an excuse why it wasn’t a good time, but now I see exactly why: so when he inevitably traded me in for his next girl, he wouldn’t have to waste time with messy custody battles. What a stand-up guy your best friend is. And you’re right there with him.’
‘Lina, we’ve all talked about this through the years, and I know that—’
‘Stop calling me Lina! That’s for friends. Which you no longer are. And while your definition of a parent might be who has legal custody, my definition is the person who wakes up in the middle of the night to check the closets for monsters and who watches endless hours of Transformers when the child is home sick and who holds his hand when he gets his first cavity filled. Not to mention packs the school lunches and knows all his friends and drives him to all his practices and hugs him when he cries because the boys are picking on him at school. Graham sure as hell isn’t doing any of that.’
‘Lina, I really—’
‘Karolina!’
‘Karolina,’ he said slowly. ‘I took the liberty of calling Elaine to meet you today at Harry’s school.’
‘I don’t know how you live with yourself.’
‘It’s who he felt … comfortable with.’
‘I have nothing else to say to you. Tell Graham I’ll be there today and I look forward to seeing his cold fish of a mother. Goodbye.’ She pressed her thumb into the ‘end’ button with force and then immediately dialed Trip back.
He answered on the first ring.
‘One last thing. You no longer represent me. You’re fired.’
Karolina didn’t realize she was crying until the man who’d been staring at her walked over and handed her a clean napkin. She thanked him and dropped a twenty on the table before he could invite himself to sit. ‘I have to run,’ she said quickly, grabbing her coat and bag. She held it together until she got to her car, parked right in front of Georgetown Family Medicine, where Jerry Goldwyn, their family doctor and a close friend of Graham’s from childhood, had his concierge practice. It was one of the perks of moving to Washington, Karolina thought – personalized medicine from a dear family friend. He had spent dozens of hours counseling Karolina and Graham on their fertility struggle, even when they lived in New York. In his early fifties, Jerry wasn’t quite their parents’ generation or their own, so he existed in a space between friend and family.
Karolina wiped her mascara as well as she could and walked up the stairs into Dr. Goldwyn’s townhouse office. His receptionist, Gloria, greeted her warmly.
‘Karolina! Sweetheart, do you have an appointment?’
‘Hi, Gloria. No, I was just walking by and wanted to see if Jerry was in.’
The older woman mimed wiping her forehead. ‘Phew! I thought the senility was advancing. I know he would love to see you, but he stepped out to lunch. Do you want me to give him a message?’
The waiting room was empty, but Karolina couldn’t help but wonder if that was an excuse and Jerry had somehow given Gloria instructions to turn her – this embarrassing drunk – away should she show up looking for anything. Just as she’d almost convinced herself of this, the door to the street opened behind her and Jerry walked in.
‘Karolina? Sweetheart? Is that you?’ Jerry’s voice was as warm and welcoming as always.
‘In the flesh. Sorry, I was parked outside and wanted to come say hello. Is now a bad time?’
‘A bad time? For you? Come, let’s go to my office. Do you want any coffee or anything?’
‘No, I’m fine.’
‘Gloria, don’t put any calls through unless they’re genuine 911 emergencies, okay? Thanks, love.’
Karolina followed him into his cluttered office, which had books from floor to ceiling and massive piles of patient charts on the desk. ‘Forgive the mess. I must be the last practicing physician in the Western world who hasn’t gone digital. I just can’t wrap my mind around it …’ He pulled a lab coat off a guest chair and tossed it in a corner. ‘Please, here, sit. Let me get a look at you.’
‘Not much to see, I’m afraid.’
‘Nonsense. You’re always radiant. Glowing.’
‘Pregnant women glow. Not women who have been thrown out by their husbands.’
‘Right.’ He looked physically pained. ‘I’m so sorry to see what’s been going on in the press. How can I help?’
Karolina hadn’t come in here in search of anything other than a friendly face, but she had a sudden realization: Jerry certainly knew – and could likely testify – that she did not now, or ever, have a drinking problem.
‘Well, clearly you know that despite what my husband would have you believe, I am not an alcoholic. Almost the opposite! With all the hormones and IVF cycles and specialists, I’ve barely had a drink the past five years.’
‘Of course. I know that.’
‘Then maybe you would, like, testify to that effect? Not in court or anything, but maybe you’d go on the record saying as much? To a newspaper or a TV anchor or something?’
She could tell from his reaction that he was going to say no. ‘Lina, sweetheart, I would bet my entire practice on the simple fact that you don’t have an alcohol abuse problem. I know that. What I don’t know or understand – and what’s really none of my business – is what’s going on between you and Graham. I know that you’re separated because I read it in the papers, not because I heard it from him. I hope you can understand, but as both your and Graham’s doctor and, more importantly, friend, I really can’t get in the middle of this. I love and adore both of you.’ Jerry gave her a sad smile. ‘I know this can’t be easy for you. But you’re an amazing woman, and I know you’ll get through it. Not just get through it – transcend it. Of that much I’m sure.’
‘Thanks, Jerry. I appreciate hearing that, especially from you. And I do understand,’ Karolina said, although she wasn’t sure she did.
The phone on Jerry’s desk rang. He pushed a button on the front face and said, ‘Yes, Gloria?’
‘Sorry to bother you, Dr. Goldwyn, but it’s Mrs. O’Dell calling. Little Aiden fell out of his high chair and split open his lip. She’s wondering if she should go to the ER, and if so, what plastic surgeon you recommend?’
Jerry’s brow furrowed. ‘Wait, let me see who’s on call right now. Have her hold just a second …’
Karolina stood up. ‘It was great to see you. Sorry to barge in like this.’
He looked up. ‘You’re never barging in. I’m so sorry, I have to help this woman—’
‘No, of course. Send my love to Irene.’ She gathered her bag and coat and walked back to reception. ‘Wonderful to see you, Gloria.’
Gloria gestured to Karolina with a stack of papers.
‘For me?’ Karolina asked as Gloria transferred the call.
‘For you. A couple of old bills. We’d put them through insurance, but they were returned. I thought it was just a problem with the coding, so I recoded and resubmitted – twice, actually – but they still didn’t go through. You may want to make sure nothing went to collections.’
‘Thanks,’ Karolina said, and tossed the small rubber-banded pile of envelopes into her purse. ‘I’ll deal with it.’
Maybe Graham would pick up her call if it related to finances? He certainly hadn’t deigned to do so for any other reason. Emily had made her promise to stop trying to contact him. But he was her husband. How was this happening to her? When had her husband changed into this person she barely even recognized?
As Karolina eased out of her parking spot, Aunt Agata’s number flashed on her dashboard screen.
‘Hi, Auntie,’ she said, instantly switching to Polish. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine, dear. Just fine. I’m not calling to talk about me. I want to see how you’re doing.’
‘Me? I’m okay. I’m down in D.C. now, heading back to Bethesda to go to Harry’s swim meet. It feels like I haven’t seen him in forever.’
‘I heard on the news that you and Graham are getting divorced.’ This was not a question.
‘Yes, apparently that’s how we’re all finding things out these days,’ Karolina said as she merged onto the highway.
‘He’s a dupek!’
‘I won’t argue with you there.’
‘Always has been, always will be.’
‘Now, that’s not exactly fair, Auntie. Graham was different when we met. Decent.’
Her aunt hooted. ‘That may be what your mother and you thought, but I could always see the writing on the wall. Yes, missy, this was clear as day! Not that I’m saying “I told you so,” because I love you and I would never say that, but … well, I told you so. Did I not? Don’t you remember that little chat we had the night before your wedding? I said, “Lina, that man has a fair face and a foul heart.” Do you remember?’
‘Of course I remember! You cornered me at the rehearsal dinner and told me Graham was after my money.’
‘Yes, ma’am, I did.’
‘And I told you that his family had so much money that it made whatever I had earned from modeling look like pocket change.’
‘Well, that’s neither here nor there. The point is, I had a feeling about that one.’
‘Mama loved him,’ Karolina said quietly, remembering that night like it was yesterday. Her mother had been shining with a happiness Karolina had seen rarely, growing up, her smile so wide it made the crinkles around her eyes look like they were smiling too. And why shouldn’t she have been joyful? Her only child – the one for whom she had essentially sacrificed her own life – was marrying a handsome, successful attorney from an established and wealthy family. Her daughter would have everything she hadn’t: stability, security, social acceptance, extended family, lots of children, and a doting husband. Her smile that night announced that all those years of work had been worth it, that the debts were all settled, and happily. If Karolina were being honest with herself, so much of her own happiness that weekend had been tied up with her mother’s obvious relief and joy: you didn’t spend your entire childhood watching your mother work herself to the bone for your benefit without feeling a lifetime’s worth of guilt about it.
‘Your mother loved you. And she loved that you were settled, and to a man who could provide for you.’
‘I could provide for myself!’
‘She knew that, Lina. She didn’t want you to have to.’
The two were quiet for a moment, comfortably so. Aunt Agata had practically raised Karolina because Karolina’s mother worked as a live-in nanny for a wealthy family six days a week. She would come home Sunday mornings, exhausted beyond description and so excited to see her daughter, and Karolina would spend the time crying that her mother loved the children she nannied for more; that she spent all her time with them; that she was missing Karolina’s entire childhood. As if it were a choice. And then, when Karolina was fourteen – after so many weeks and years of this painful separation and brief reunion – a stylish man in a beautiful suit approached her on the street in Kraków and asked if she was interested in modeling. Aunt Agata was certain he was a predator of some kind, but Karolina’s mother asked the parents for whom she worked if they could find out more about him, and the word came back: he was legitimate. Not only legitimate but highly respected as having a special talent for finding the most beautiful girls who went on to become the most successful models. He was Italian, from Milan, and he traveled to all the capital cities and small towns and rural villages across Europe to pluck young girls from their ordinary lives and send them on to great money and fame. So when he found Karolina (‘Finally!’ her mother said, although she’d never before mentioned having such dreams for her child), her mother was nearly delirious with relief.
‘But Mama, I want to become a teacher,’ Karolina had said when her mother insisted she go to the meeting with the man in Milan.
‘Who’s saying you cannot? Not me. Not Mr. Italian. What’s his name? Fratelli. Just go. See what happens. That’s all I ask.’
So Karolina had gone. It was thrilling, of course – her first time out of Poland and headed to fashion’s capital! Everything was so new, so bright and gorgeous and exciting. And it felt wonderful when the people in Mr. Fratelli’s office fawned all over Karolina, examining her from every angle and seeming happy with what they saw. Just one month later, they booked her first job. Three months later came the invitation from Miuccia Prada to headline the fall runway show. Within six months Karolina was on the cover of Italian Vogue, and then came the ultimatum: Leave school if you’re serious about this; you’ll have the rest of your life to study, but work as a professional model is the shortest of earning seasons, so take advantage when you can. So at sixteen, right before the start of her junior year in high school, Karolina dropped out. And when she arrived in New York City to live in a cramped walk-up with three other teenage models and a kind of housemother who cared more about sourcing diet pills than enforcing curfews, Karolina could sense – more than sense, she was certain – that her teacher dreams were over.
‘Lina? Are you there?’ Her aunt’s voice was quiet but insistent.
‘Sorry, yes. I’m here.’ As Karolina always did when she talked on the phone, she was cruising in the far right lane at exactly fifty-five miles an hour. ‘I can’t even imagine what Mama would say now.’
‘She would be so proud of how strong you’re being. That I know for sure. Your mama was smart and capable, and more than anything in the entire world, she wanted her girl to have a better life than she did. I’d say there’s no arguing that your mama would be greatly relieved to see where you are now. May she rest in peace.’
‘May she rest in peace.’ The words came out as a whisper.
‘Okay, that is enough pep for one day. Give Harry a big hug from me, okay? And send me some pictures on the iPad.’
‘Will do, Aunt Agata. I love you.’
‘Love you too, sweetheart.’
Karolina waited for the call to disconnect and slowly pressed down on the accelerator. Was this how her mother felt on Sunday mornings, when her work week was finally finished and the bus was making its way to Agata’s house, where Karolina perched by the front window, clutching her doll baby and waiting, waiting, waiting? It must have been. Harry’s meet didn’t start for a while, and he certainly wouldn’t be counting the seconds until she arrived – she may not even warrant a hug in front of his friends now that he was twelve – but none of that mattered: she couldn’t wait to see her boy.