Managed Expectations, Part 7: Coping in Park Slope

Taken to Bed — A Picnic, of Sorts — Some Advice — Confrontation! — Sick of It — Emergency Action

Even on her happiest days, Nicole hated the jarring sound of her buzzer. The only reason why she ever bothered to answer the door was because she was always hoping UPS would come bearing a check from her agency. Today, there was no money, just Miranda, fresh from her honeymoon in Bora Bora. Someone happy and in love was the last person she wanted to see.

"I can't talk," Nicole said. "I have swine flu."

"You're such a bad liar," Nicole heard, through crackling. "Darsh told me everything. Buzz me in."

She hit the "door" button on her intercom, unlocked the front door to her apartment, and crawled back into bed. She had been bedridden for three days since she had seen Elias kiss another girl. Three days of pouting, listening alternately to "Little Green" and "You Oughta Know." Three days of watching "16 and Pregnant" marathons and wearing Elias' I HELLA [HEART] OAKLAND t-shirt.

Miranda kissed Nicole's cheek and proceeded to lay containers of food from Bklyn Larder on her bed: marcona almonds, a beet greens and ricotta sandwich, rhubarb sorbet, and some kind of goat cheese from Portugal. "We're going to have a picnic," she said, all aggressively cheerful, "Also, I spent like $80 on this, so you have to eat."

"I might as well wear Quacker Factory sweaters and have three kids and live in Iowa," Nicole said.

"Sweetie," Miranda said, "I think you're a little caught up in the moment."

"I want to be one of those people who is totally fine with someone they're sleeping with seeing other people, but I'm not."

"I hear you," Miranda said. "Really, I hear you. But you know what I think? Now I think you need to get out of the house."

Nicole refused to go further than across the street, so they sat in the backyard of Flatbush Farm and split two bottles of Tempranillo. Miranda showed her photos of the glass-bottomed bungalow she honeymooned in and told her about seeing Nicole Kidman at the resort and described in great detail just how bad she looked without makeup.

"Do you want to know my fail-safe method for getting over anyone?" Nicole nodded. "The first priority is to get out of town. Even just for a couple days. Then, while you're out of town, you need to make out with the first guy who doesn't totally repulse you. It can't be with someone you like because that's too complicated." She paused to eat an olive. "Then, when you get home, you need to get involved in some kind of project."

"Great." Nicole had no intention of doing any of this.

"It works, too. Remember that guy who I dumped because he said I wasn't angry enough about the 2004 election?"

"The guy with the Lhaso Apso?"

"Now he's on Twitter but it's written in the voice of the dog."

"Oh my God."

"See? Totally over him. Works every time."

Nicole got away as soon as she good. Then, she decided she was drunk enough to call Elias. He seemed to have no idea that her lack of contact for the past three days was symptomatic of any kind of issue on her end. He answered ("Hey, you!") and seemed happy to hear from her.

"Wow, this is so heavy," he said. After she told him she knew he was seeing other people, her voice started to crack. "I mean, I never promised anything. I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression but it's not my fault. It's terrible, the way that girls, like, exploit me. I told my buddy Pinky on Gchat the other day, I can't help it if I'm, like, magnetic. You know?"

Nicole was speechless and mad at herself for caring about him in the first place.

"So now that we've talked, do you want to come over later?" Elias asked.

"I think I'm good."

"I don't see why you have to ruin this," he said.

She hung up and started thinking about Miranda's advice. Maybe she should get out of town? She was sick of Brooklyn, with her stupid love life and her stupid job, and the cupcake bakeries, weekends upstate, spelt break, craft fairs, indoor composting, pork belly, holistic health counselors, biodynamic wine.

She got the emergency AmEx out of her wallet, walked over to her laptop, went to the website for JetBlue, and bought a one-way ticket leaving the next morning.

She hoped Portland was far enough away from her problems.

Behind? Catch up!