A Special Place for Women, Laura Hankin [brene brown rising strong .txt] 📗

When we emerged onto the street, I walked slowly toward the subway, dreading going home. Libby matched my pace, both of us hugging our jackets to ourselves in the early-October evening, silent. Strange. Libby had never met an empty moment that she could not fill with her chatter. But now, she furrowed her brow, then opened her mouth as if to say something. She closed it. Then she opened it again. “So you’ve noticed the mysterious door too?”

All right, Libby. I wasn’t the only person whose powers of observation were on full blast. “Yeah,” I said, carefully. “It’s a little weird, right?”

“Very!”

“What is it, do you think?” I asked, then rolled my eyes. “A prison where they’re holding all the men who have ever wronged them?” I’d started developing a theory, strengthened by the events of that night’s circle, the way that Caroline’s eyes had flitted to the door when Iris mentioned the terrible judge. Behind the door, they addressed the more complicated concerns. The controversial or even dangerous ones. That was where they kept their information, their files and records, maybe where they hung up pictures of men like the judge, of women like Nicole, and figured out how they were going to destroy their lives. Maybe what went on in the back room was what had united Caroline and Margot in the first place.

Libby stopped walking and grabbed my hand, looking me straight in the eye. I squirmed at the naked intensity of her gaze. “I like you, Jillian. You really listen, which isn’t necessarily true for everyone I’ve met here.” Guilt came over her face. “I don’t mean to be a jerk!”

“No, I know what you mean,” I said, thinking of the self-satisfied air that clung to many of the women in the club. “And thanks, I like you too.”

“We’ve got each other’s backs, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Okay. I’m going to tell you something that I haven’t told anyone else. Swear you won’t repeat it?” I half expected her to make me lock my pinky in hers, like we were children trading confessions at sleepaway camp. A couple of girls playing games, making meaning out of nothing, just like Miles had implied on the phone. Fuck Miles.

“I’m great at secrets,” I said.

She glanced around the street, to make sure that no one would overhear, then turned back to me once she’d deemed it safe. “I think that getting through that door is the way that you know you’ve really made it,” she said, her voice hushed and reverent. “That you haven’t just bought your way in, but that they genuinely love and admire you. That you’re truly, truly accepted.” This was always the way, wasn’t it? Another door, another hurdle you had to jump in order to prove yourself, in hopes of pushing off the gnawing unease that you were not enough. Libby swallowed. “And the reason I think that,” she began, then startled as a woman I recognized from the clubhouse came walking by, giving us a nod as she passed. As soon as the woman crossed the street, Libby grabbed my hand and pulled me into the alley behind us, a dark, narrow walkway full of trash and recycling bins. Her palm was sweaty. She let go of my hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, then let out a breath.

“Okay, whew,” she said, then smiled at me shakily. “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy!”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Why do you think that, about the door?”

“Right. Because, once, I saw them go inside.”

“Hold up,” I said, my own palms getting sweaty in anticipation. “What? How?”

“I had to go to the bathroom before I left the clubhouse one night. And, well . . . it’s embarrassing, but I was in there for longer than I expected.”

“Like how long?” I asked.

“I take slow poops, okay?” she said, flushing. (Sorry.) “But they didn’t realize anyone was still around, because when I came back out, the group was heading to the door. They were all, like, really excited. Giddy, even? Like it was time to do what they’d been waiting all night for. Somehow I knew that I wasn’t supposed to see what I was seeing. So I hid behind a plant.”

“As one does,” I said, my heart pounding. “And what happened? What’s behind it?”

“Well, I couldn’t see behind it—I was too far away for that. And I wasn’t going to try to follow them in. I’m not totally cuckoo! But I did hear them talking. Margot was saying something about how the new members were promising, and it was time to invite someone else in. Caroline was like, Maybe, and Margot was like, Come on, Caroline, it’s been long enough since . . . Oh, it was some name, I don’t remember what.”

I’d bet anything it was Nicole. Libby just kept talking. “Caroline said she couldn’t even think about it until after the gala prep was done, and Margot was like, But we’d want to take them with us at the end of October. Caroline sort of threw up her hands and was like, Fine, but I get final say! And when she disappeared into the door, Margot turned to Vy and was like, quietly, Let’s make sure they’re helpful. Then . . .” She shrugged. “Then the door closed, and they were gone.”

“That’s wild,” I said, shoving my shaking hands in my pockets. God bless Libby. They had an opening, one that they were looking to fill soon. I had to get in there. Behind the door, that’s where I’d find the bombshell that would make this entire operation worth it.

“Right?” Libby was saying. “Someone helpful, they said, so I’ve been trying to be as useful as possible with volunteering to lead the newbies, stuff like that. Caroline and I have been bonding, I think! The other day she actually asked me where I’d gotten my shoes, because she was looking for a pair like them! But . . .” She fidgeted, suddenly shy. “Could I ask you a favor? If you’re talking to