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make it a li’l vacation。 It’s not that bad； you’ll see。” He smiled
first at me and then at Jill； who smiled back and brushed the back
of her hand across his cheek。 They were disgustingly in love。
“Really； Andy； it’s a culture…rich place with a whole lot to do。 We
both wish you’d e visit us more often。 It’s just not right that
the only time we see each other is in this house；” she said； waving
expansively around our parents’ living room。 “I mean； if you can
stand Avon； you can certainly stand Houston。”
“Andy； you’re here！ Jay； the big New York City career girl is here；
e say hi；” my mom called as she rounded the corner ing from
the kitchen。 “I thought you were going to call when you got to the
train station。”
“Mrs。 Myers was picking Erika up from the same train； so she just
dropped me off。 When are we eating？ I’m starving。”
“Now。 Do you want to clean up？ We can wait。 You look a little ragged
from the train。 You know； it’s fine if—”
“Mother！” I shot her a warning look。
“Andy！ You look dynamite。 e here and give your old man a hug。” My
dad； tall and still very handsome in his midfifties； smiled from the
hallway。 He was holding a Scrabble box behind his back that he only
let me see by flashing it quickly by the side of his leg。 He waited
until everyone looked away from him and pointed to the box and
mouthed； “I’ll kick your ass。 Consider yourself warned。”
I smiled and nodded my head。 Contrary to all mon sense； I found
myself looking forward to the next forty…eight hours with my family
more than I had in the four years since I’d left Home。 Thanksgiving
was my favorite holiday； and this year I was set to enjoy it more
than ever。
We gathered in the dining room and dug into the massive meal that my
mother had expertly ordered； her traditional Jewish version of a
night…before…Thanksgiving feast。 Bagels and lox and cream cheese and
whitefish and latkes all professionally arranged on rigid disposable
serving platters； waiting to be transferred to paper plates and
consumed with plastic forks and knives。 My mother smiled lovingly as
her brood dug in； with a look of pride on her face as if she’d been
cooking for a week to sustain and nurture her babies。
I told them all about the new job； tried as best as I could to
describe a job that I didn’t yet fully understand myself。 Briefly I
wondered if it sounded ridiculous to tell them how the skirts were
called in and all the hours I’d logged wrapping and sending
presents； and how there was a little electronic ID card that tracked
everything you did。 It was hard to fit into words the sense of
urgency each of these had taken on at the time； how when I was at
work it seemed that my job was supremely relevant； even important。 I
talked and talked； but I didn’t know how to explain this world that
may have been only two hours away geographically but was really in a
different solar system。 They all nodded and smiled and asked
questions； pretending to be interested； but I knew it was all too
foreign； too absolutely strange sounding and different to make any
sense to people who—like me until a few weeks earlier—had never even
heard the name Miranda Priestly。 It didn’t make much sense to me
yet； either： it seemed overly dramatic at times and more than a
little Big Brother–esque； but it was exciting。 And cool。 It was
definitely； undeniably a supercool place to call work。 Right？
“Well； Andy； you think you’ll be happy there for your year？ Maybe
you’ll even want to stay longer； huh？” My mom asked while smearing
cream cheese on her salt bagel。
In signing my contract at Elias…Clark； I’d agreed to stay with
Miranda for a year—if I didn’t get fired； which at this point seemed
like a big if。 And if I fulfilled my obligation with class and
enthusiasm and some level of petence—and this part was not in
writing but implied by a half…dozen people in HR； and Emily； and
Allison—then I would be in a position to name the job I’d like next。
It was expected； of course； that whichever job that may be would be
atRunway or； at the very least； at Elias…Clark； but I was free to
request anything from working on book reviews in the features
department to acting as a liaison between Hollywood celebrities
andRunway 。 Out of the last ten assistants who had made it through
their year in Miranda’s office； a full hundred percent had chosen to
move to the fashion department atRunway ； but I didn’t let that
concern me。 A stint in Miranda’s office was considered to be the
ultimate way to skip three to five years of indignity as an
assistant and move directly into meaningful jobs in prestigious
places。
“Definitely。 So far everyone seems really nice。 Emily’s a little；
um； well；mitted； but otherwise； it’s been great。 I don’t know； to
listen to Lily talk about her exams or Alex talk about all the
shitty things he has to deal with at work； I think I got pretty
lucky。 Who else gets to drive around in a chauffeured car on their
first day？ I mean； really。 So yeah； I think it’ll be a great year；
and I’m excited for Miranda to e back。 I think I’m ready。”
Jill rolled her eyes and shot me a look as if to say；Cut the
bullshit； Andy。 We all know you’re probably working for a psycho
bitch surrounded by anorexic fashionistas and are trying to paint
this really rosy picture because you’re worried you’re in over your
head； but instead she said； “It sounds great； Andy； it really does。
Amazing opportunity。”
She was the only one at the table who could possibly understand；
since； before moving to the Third World； she’d worked for a year at
a small private museum in Paris and had developed an interest in
haute couture。 Hers was more of an artistic and a