Evie's Job

77: Evie

Evie stood in front of Meredith, blocking the apartment doorway, feeling anxious and worried and angry, too. She was holding onto her anger. She needed that anger. She would feel threatened and wretched if she didn’t feel angry instead.

She knew why she was anxious. Meredith was bound to hate Evie, once she realized who Evie was. Meredith would hate Evie, and would probably say something about how she felt, and would probably say it horribly well, too. Meredith must be used to playing rough, to hurting people and being mean and winning at all costs, so if Evie let her, she would squash Evie flat. It would be easy for Meredith to do. Evie was in her old ratty clothes and her hair was a mess and she hadn’t had a cigarette yet today. She’d barely had coffee, and her head already hurt. She felt awful, and probably looked it as well, and if Meredith was cruel now, she knew she’d take it to heart.

She needed to do something, or say something, to make herself feel a little more in control.

She opened the door further, and for some reason that helped. She felt like she’d made a decision. She opened the door, and looked out at Meredith and said, “Yeah? What do you want?”

“Is Natalie here?”

Evie shook her head, and started to close the door, hoping to end it there. To close the door, and get rid of Meredith, and then have a cigarette. It wasn’t very brave, or confrontational, but quiet and discreet seemed best. She was avoiding unnecessary problems.

She tried.

She tried being sensible, and closing the door, but Meredith didn’t let her.

Meredith put her hand on the door. She didn’t actually push, not enough to prevent Evie closing it, but she used her hand to stop the door, and that was slightly odd. It was threatening, the way her having a key was threatening. It was saying it was Meredith’s door too, and Evie couldn’t close it without permission.

“What?” Evie said, suddenly nervous again.

“Who the fuck are you?” Meredith said.

Evie was a little surprised Meredith had sworn. She stood there for a moment, startled, wondering if she should just swear back. Swearing wasn’t what she’d expected, from someone dressed the way Meredith was dressed. People swore, Evie supposed. Evie swore herself. Natalie did too, and so, apparently, did Meredith. Perhaps Natalie liked foul-mouthed women, Evie suddenly thought, and then wished she hadn’t. She wasn’t sure she liked knowing she and Meredith had Natalie in common. That they shared something important to Evie, and which had once been important to Natalie, and probably to Meredith too.

Suddenly Evie felt mean. She felt like she was doing something wrong. She stood there for a moment, hesitating, and then Meredith glanced down. She was probably only glancing at Evie’s old clothes, or perhaps at Evie’s bare feet. She probably meant nothing by it, but Evie folded her arms over her chest anyway.

She hadn’t wanted to do that. She’d told herself she wouldn’t. Her shirt was old and thin and it was probably obvious she didn’t have anything on underneath. She’d known, opening the door, but had told herself she wasn’t going to care. She wasn’t going to fold her arms, and cover herself, and act all nervous and ashamed. She wasn’t going to try to hide herself, and let Meredith know she was uncomfortable.

She had told herself that, but then she did, as soon as Meredith looked at her.

She folded her arms, and for a moment wished she hadn’t, but then realized it was the right thing to have done. Suddenly, she felt better. She felt covered, and safer, and far more willing to fight. She felt angry again, a coolly righteous kind of anger. She glared back at Meredith, suddenly sure of herself. She had every right to be where she was, in Natalie’s home, and Meredith couldn’t stop her. Meredith just couldn’t.

“Who are you?” Meredith said again.

“Who the fuck are you?” Evie said.

“What?” Meredith said, and then seemed to realize Evie might now know who she was. Evie didn’t, as far as Meredith knew, and Evie was quite pleased with herself for remembering that.

“I’m Meredith,” Meredith said. “Natalie’s wife. Who are you?”

Wife was interesting, Evie thought. Wife, not ex. “That’s not really your business,” she said.

“I think it is,” Meredith said.

“Oh?” Evie said. “And I don’t really care.” She unfolded one arm and pushed on the door again. “Well, bye then.”

She wasn’t entirely trying to close the door, since she was feeling safer now. She wasn’t entirely trying, but she was pretending she was. It didn’t matter, anyway. Meredith pushed back. Not hard. Neither of them were pushing as much as they could have, but Meredith was stopping Evie closing the door, which was a little bit threatening again.

“What do you want?” Evie said, sharply.

“Could you please calm down,” Meredith said.

“I’m calm. What the fuck do you want?”

Meredith took a deep breath. “Look,” she said. “I’m not sure who you are, but I just need to get something from inside.”

“No,” Evie said.

Meredith held up the key-ring. “I’ve got a key.”

“Good for you,” Evie said. “I don’t think I should let you in when Natalie’s not here.”

“But I have a key.”

Evie shrugged.

Meredith looked at Evie, and it was a particular kind of look. A look that was angry, and rich, and successful. A look that said she expected to get her way, and wasn’t quite sure what to do when someone refused.

“I really just need a moment,” Meredith said. “If you don’t mind.”

“I mind,” Evie said. “I’m not letting you inside.”