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The belle and the uptown gal

By RONDA RICH
Contributing Writer

Marian is not a Southern woman. In fact, she is as far from being Southern as sushi is from grits in the food chain.

She was born and raised outside the city in nearby New Jersey and has never traveled far from home, choosing to work in the bustle of the city she loves. She is, what Southerners like to call, as steady as a Roosevelt dollar.

I was apprehensive to meet her, nervous that my life had been turned over to this stranger.

“She’s terrific,” my agent promised. “You’re going to love her.” But agents make their money by putting the prettiest foot forward, so I was still anxious and a bit of a doubter. I am, after all, a Southerner to the bone, and we are famous for our double helping of wariness. Especially when it comes to them.

This woman, a Yankee as much as I am a belle, had become my new editor for my Southern women book series, replacing an old and thoroughly familiar editor who had surprisingly departed for another publishing company.

It was unsettling.

I moped. I fretted. I paced the floor. I twisted my hands. I chewed the inside of my lip. I stopped just short of taking to my bed over the upset. Then, I met the worry head-on.

I flew to New York to meet this woman face-to-face. After all, she had to understand me and appreciate my people before she could edit the things I write about us.

Over lunch at a cozy Italian bistro not far from Herald Square, we settled down to the business of getting on with it. She is pretty, gracious, kind and smart.

“You could be a Southern woman yourself,” I commented, half an hour into the lunch. I was impressed with her girlishness coupled with strong intelligence. “You have the social skills and grace.”

She giggled appreciatively and then, formalities aside, we moved to deeper subjects. I asked how she had come to land at my publishing company.

She explained that for 14 years, she had worked with the same publisher and had been very happy and well-promoted there. It was the only job she had had since college. When my familiar editor, Sheila, took a job with Marian’s publishing company, Marian decided to pursue Sheila’s job.

“Why?” I asked, expecting an answer such as more money, a bigger title or that she simply didn’t like where she was anymore.

I got none of that.

Unflinching, she looked me straight in the eye and said, “Because I was too comfortable. Too settled. I was happy there and I thought that I had to take a plunge and do something different. I didn’t want to spend all of my career in one place and I could have done that because I was comfortable and happy.”

I fell back against the red leather of the banquette and stared while my admiration for her that had just been born, worked through its first moments of infancy.

“You were content, so you left?”

Wide-eyed, she nodded. “Wow,” I whispered. “That took a lot of courage.”

She shrugged. “It was hard. Really hard. But it was the right move.”

I knew in that moment, I’d have no trouble working with a woman like that. It was then and there, amidst the strong smells of freshly made cheese, that we melted into friends, no longer “us” nor “them.”

We ordered a dessert to share and as we spooned tiramisu, the uptown gal and the good ol’ belle celebrated a commonality of spirit and courage that unites and never divides.

It’s amazing how much like us some of them can be.