by Eileen Palma
“There’s only one church on West 4th Street that has Gamblers Anonymous meetings on Sunday mornings.” Jack handed Kate a takeout cup of coffee.
“Thanks Jack. I really needed my caffeine fix.” Kate took a sip and it was exactly how she liked it. A little soymilk and a pinch of cinnamon. Jack must’ve remembered from when they grabbed coffee after her trapeze lesson.
“You look like you could use some breakfast too.” Jack pulled two wax paper-wrapped bagels from the bag.
“Thanks!” Kate unwrapped the glossy paper covering and found a warm everything bagel smothered in vegetable cream cheese. “You’re always feeding me.”
Jack shrugged. “What can I say? I like to take care of you.”
“Sorry about last night. When you said sleepover, I’m sure my dad staying at my place was not what you had in mind.”
“What would one of our dates be without some family member crashing it?” Jack settled next to the stoop with Kate. “How’s your dad doing this morning?”
“Humiliated, remorseful, ashamed. Swears it was the last time.” Kate took a bite of her bagel, relishing in the crunch of the chunks of vegetables mixed in the smooth cream cheese. There was nothing like a hot bagel on a sucky morning.
“I’m guessing you’ve heard it all before.” Jack tore a piece off his bagel and handed it to Diesel who scarfed it right down.
“Hundreds of times. But as long as he feels bad the next day I feel like there’s hope.” Kate wrapped her hands around the cup of coffee, feeling it warm up the tips of her fingers. Diesel settled his head down in Kate’s lap.
“You’re right. That means a part of him still wants to get better.” Jack shrugged and took a bite of his bagel.
“I enrolled him in an inpatient treatment program upstate. He starts Monday.” Kate took another bite of her bagel, surprised at how hungry she was. She hadn’t even thought about food until Jack showed up.
“Ahh. I get it. This like when a drug addicts ODs right before they check into rehab.”
“Exactly. I shouldn’t be surprised. Is that New York Today?” Kate pulled the newspaper out of the Bagel Time bag.
“Yeah. I couldn’t remember if your piece came out today or next Sunday.” Jack pulled Diesel’s leash to get the dog away from a piece of gum he was about to peel off the step.
“Next week. But I don’t need an excuse to read the gossip section.” Kate opened the paper and turned the pages smudging black ink on her thumb and index finger. “Reading trashy gossip is one of my guilty pleasures.
“Holy shit Jack! Listen to this!” Kate cleared her throat for dramatic effect. “Spotted: New York’s favorite kids’ fitness guru flying on a trapeze with a mystery man. Has our exercise princess finally found her prince?”
Jack didn’t laugh like Kate thought he would. Instead he sat there with his mouth open, his last piece of bagel out in his hand ripe for Diesel to come and snatch, which of course he did.
“Do you have to look so horrified?”
“I’m sorry.” Jack scratched his head and raked his fingers through his curls. “I’m just not used to being in the paper.”
“This is nothing. The last blind piece about me went something like this: which kids’ fitness expert was caught raiding the ice cream section at Trader Joe’s? Will she eat her way to a cancelled show?”
Jack didn’t laugh like Kate thought he would. He brushed the bagel crumbs off his lap and took a deep breath. “Kate. We need to talk.”
“Hold that thought, Jackie boy. My daughter here needs to get me to the train station.” Eddie burst through the door at the head of the group of men coming through the doors. The men couldn’t get out of the church fast enough, pulling packs of cigarettes out of their back pockets.
“Jack, can we talk about this later?” Kate stood up and gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Eddie reached over and patted Jack on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Jack.” He turned to Kate. “You better hold on to this one.”
“My absolute favorite book character of all time is Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. He was a hero because he did something he really didn’t want to do because it was the right thing and no one else was brave enough to do it.”
Jack Moskowitz, Uncle of Lauren from Room 4B, Chelsea Prep Book Day
Chapter Nineteen
“Hey kid—great job on the bars!” Jack bumped Lauren’s chalk covered fist. As always by the end of practice, the white powder had formed handprints and abstract designs on her shiny leotard.
“Thanks. I worked on my Giant so I can do it for the show.” Lauren leaned down and rubbed Diesel’s ears. The length of Diesel’s tongue hung out of his mouth as he panted in delight.
“Kate’s going to be really impressed,” said Jack. “Put your hoody on.”
“It’s too hot.” But Lauren unknotted the neon green sweatshirt from the waistband of her mesh shorts and pulled it on when Jack raised his eyebrow.
“Can I have a snack?” Lauren walked towards the vending machine outside the field house.
“You need real food after a workout.”
“Anything but Moroccan Delight again. I don’t think my stomach can take it.” Lauren wrapped her arms around her midsection and rolled her eyes.
“How about a burger?”
“Yes!” Lauren pumped both hands in the air and led the way to the organic food truck parked at the entrance to the pier.
“You hold onto Diesel. I’ll get your food.” Jack handed the leash to Lauren and the dog was more than happy to go with her. Lauren walked Diesel over to the open space by the water where they would have room to work on their new trick. Lauren had spent the past week trying to teach Diesel how to stand up on two paws and dance with her. She was hoping to get the act ready in time for the mid-year talent show at Chelsea Prep.
As soon as Jack got to the food truck he pulled out his phone.
“Can’t talk now,” panted Matt.
“Do you seriously have to answer the phone during sex?”
“I’m on the treadmill, douchebag.”
“It’s not like that would’ve been the first time.”
“I still haven’t convinced Anne to take me back yet. And she’s throwing up like every five seconds. What’s got you all fired up?”
“New York Today ran a blind item about me and Kate.”
“Shit. Did it sound like they knew who you are?”
“No.”
“All right. That buys us a little time.”
“Just enough time for me to tell her who I am. I’m heading over there later to tell her in person.”
“You’ve gotta sit tight one more week, buddy. Just till after the press release.”
“Who said anything about doing the press release this week?”
“We need to do the press conference before next weekend.”
“Why?”
“Don’t worry about it. I already set it up for Friday night. I was going to call you as soon as I finished working out.”
“What are you going to show the reporters? A pile of crumpled up pieces of drawing paper?”
“You better pull some shit together before then. We need to officially announce our new line.”
“I have to tell Kate who I am before our press release.”
“We don’t need the tabloids getting wind of this shit. It’ll be a huge distraction from the new line.”
“Kate’s not going to the tabloids.”
“Chicks are a whole different species when they’ve been scorned. How do you think Anne ended up with so much in the divorce?”
“That’s different. I’ve only known Kate for a few weeks.”
“Trust me, all women are the same when they feel like you screwed them over. Anne was perfectly reasonable about dividing assets till she found out I slept with that waitress from Tao. Next thing I knew she ended up with half of my half of the profits from o
ur company.”
“Shit. And you didn’t even cheat on her. That was after you were separated.”
“Exactly my point. She left me, then I finally move on and she couldn’t handle it.”
“Does she know about all the other women you’ve been with since then?”
“When was I supposed to bring that up? After she told me she was pregnant, but before I begged her to take me back?”
“Shit. How did we get ourselves in these situations?”
“Think about it. Not telling Kate means you have one more week for her to get attached to you.”
“It also means I’ll get more attached to her, and it’ll suck even worse when she dumps my ass.”
“You’re not telling Kate who you are until after the press conference. I’ll handle it like I usually do. You stay behind the scenes. Trust me, man.”
“I’ve got no problem being behind the scenes.”
“We need to set up the website for pre-orders,” said Matt. “Show our customers we’re not fucking around.”
“Pre-orders? I don’t even have the final designs drawn up.”
“Who cares? We just need to throw one good picture up there with a list of all the new features. Don’t you remember when the new VW Bug came out? People were lined up to order them based on one sketch.”
“I don’t think that’s entirely accurate.”
“We just need one good computerized drawing on the site. The new stroller can spin around with some cool music playing in the background. Then we can have the countdown for when it hits the stores ticking off in the corner.”
“I can pull something together by Friday if I don’t take any time out to eat, sleep or take a shit. I gotta go. Lauren’s food is up.”
Jack layered pickles, ketchup and mustard on Lauren’s turkey burger. He deposited a dollar into the tip jar and grabbed the burger, bag of Smart Chips and icy cold water bottle off the counter.
Jack turned away from the food truck and his stomach lurched when he didn’t see Lauren and Diesel in the same spot where he had left them. He turned quickly back towards the field house and didn’t see them there either.
“Have you seen a little girl with a small brown and white dog?” Jack turned towards a mom holding a wriggling toddler.
She adjusted the little boy higher on her hip with a slight hip bounce and pointed to the water. “I saw a little girl over by those benches. The blue ones by the water.”
Jack turned around and spotted Diesel tied up to the bench next to the tour boat stand. He exhaled loudly when he spotted Lauren standing by the railing lining the water’s edge.
“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder and took off in a sprint.
Lauren stood with both hands on her hips, her left shoulder angled towards the camera, the Hudson River as her backdrop. It was the same modeling pose Harper used in a lot of her print work. At first, Jack thought Lauren was with one of her gym friends. They loved to get in goofy poses and take pictures of each other with their cell phones, iTouches and all their other gadgets. They were all obsessed with Instagram these days. But as Jack got closer, he realized a man he didn’t recognize was taking Lauren’s picture.
As soon as Jack got to Lauren, the man lowered his camera.
Lauren broke her pose as soon as she spotted Jack. “OMG, Uncle Jack! I’m going to be in a magazine!”
The photographer hastily hit a button and the lens slowly moved back towards the camera base. He took two steps away from Lauren.
“What magazine are you from?” Jack walked between Lauren and the man.
“He said he could get me on the cover of Sportastic!” Lauren shouted over the chatterings of the crowd standing on the pier waiting to board the day cruise boat behind them.
“He did, huh?” Jack turned back towards the man. “Where’s your press badge?”
“Forgot it at home.” The man shifted his overabundance of weight from one sneaker to the other and smoothed his shock of dark brown hair off his perspiring forehead. He was of that undeterminable age—somewhere between thirty and forty-five. His tinted coke bottle glasses and untamed brown goatee made it hard to tell.
“Did you forget your release forms too?”
“They’re on the kitchen table with my ID. This is what happens when I leave the house without my morning cup a’ Joe.” The man seemed to be attempting a light hearted chuckle, but it came out like more of a grumble.
“Show me the pictures.” Diesel must have sensed something was wrong from his spot tied up to the bench. He stood up, his fur instantly rising in stiff hackles.
“You saw the picture I took. Just your daughter standing by the water. Thought a story about gymnasts would be good for the cover of one of the sports magazines.”
Jack looked over at Lauren. Her leotard wasn’t visible and for once she wasn’t wearing clothes that said anything about gymnastics.
“Show me the fucking pictures, asshole.” This time, Jack didn’t give the guy a chance to respond. Lauren’s food flew out of his hands in a rush of ketchup and flying lettuce and tomato as he grabbed the camera from the guy’s hands.
“That’s a three thousand dollar camera!” The guy lunged forward, but Jack backed away while pressing the LCD screen. It came alive with the picture of Lauren posing by the water. But Jack knew that was just the tip of the iceberg. He swiveled his body from side to side like a basketball player playing defense to keep the guy from snatching the camera back. He pressed his finger rapidly on the touch screen through four more pictures till Lauren appeared again, her back arched as she propelled her feet up in the air and away from the high bar. Jack scrolled through picture after picture of Lauren and her friends in their leotards, practicing in the gym and hanging out by the locker room.
“Give me my camera back! Before I call the cops.”
“You’re going to call the cops on me? You fucking pedophile! They’ll lock you up for child pornography.”
“She had her clothes on.”
“You’re not getting these pictures back, you sick fuck.”
Jack swung his arm back with the camera in it, and the guy clipped him on the corner of his left eye with a surprisingly hard punch. Jack leaned over for a split second before he felt his sneaker slip off the pavement as he was tackled to the ground.
“Uncle Jack!” Lauren stood rooted to her spot by the water shrieking like he’d never heard her before. Her screams were ear shatteringly loud despite the fact that she had both hands clasped over her mouth.
“I’m fine, Lauren! Hold on to Diesel.”
Jack pulled one of his arms out from under the guy’s hands and acted like he was going to punch him in the face. As his opponent lifted his arms off Jack to shield himself, Jack took control and flipped him over, putting his high school wrestling skills to work.
Lauren unleashed Diesel from the bench and ran towards the crowd boarding the Spirit Cruise Ship. “Help! Some crazy guy is attacking my uncle!”
Jack smashed his forearm into the guy’s chest to hold him down, but the guy reached up and boxed Jack in the ear. Jack belted him in the face and felt the guy’s head ricochet off the pavement, his nose splitting open and shooting blood onto Jack’s arm.
Jack pressed his knee harder into the man’s gut. “Can someone call the cops?” Jack yelled towards the hoard of tourists who apparently didn’t want to get close enough to dirty their dress shoes.
“Not necessary.” A uniformed cop, who looked like he had been interrupted mid-lunch break judging by the smear of mustard by his mouth, ran to Jack and the struggling photographer with his gun pointing right at both of them. “Both of you get on your stomachs and put your hands behind your backs.”
Lauren ran over with Diesel who was erupting into aggressive growls. “Don’t point the gun at my uncle! Point it at the crazy guy on the ground!” Her shrieks came out in high-pitched wales and tears were streaming down her face.
“Let go of him
and get on the ground.” A female cop who wasn’t much bigger than Lauren approached Jack from the other side.
Frozen by the metal shaft an inch from his temple, Jack realized his hand was pressing into the guy’s windpipe.
“This lunatic tried to steal my camera and jumped me when I wouldn’t give it to him!” The guy forced his words out so that Jack could feel his Adam’s apple dipping into his hand.
“He’s lying! He pretended to be a photographer so he could take pictures of me. Uncle Jack figured out he was a pedo-something and was just trying to protect me!”
“Hey buddy—let go of his throat now. We’ll take it from here.” The female officer kept her voice low and calm.
Jack leaned his face into the man’s before taking his hand away. “You come near my niece again and I will fucking murder you.”
“On your stomachs! Now!” yelled the male cop.
Jack raised both hands to show he was done and rolled onto the ground. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and pounding rushed through his ears. He felt a gentle knee in his back as the female cop pulled both of his arms back and snapped the cuffs on him.
Jack spit out the chucks of gravel from his mouth and yelled to Lauren, “Call Matt!”
“Stand up.” The female cop pulled Jack to his feet.
“You’re bleeding!” yelled Lauren, pointing to the splatters of blood scattered across Jack’s shirt Pollack style.
“It’s the other guy’s. I’m fine.” Jack smiled at Lauren, despite the pounding in his eye socket and the pinch of metal pulling the hair from his wrists.
“Did you hear him threaten to kill me?” yelled the man while the officer pulled him to his feet.
“Nope. Didn’t hear a thing. What about you Officer Nunez?”
“Nah. I didn’t hear anything either. Maybe you hit your head or something on the way down.”
“Why is my uncle in handcuffs? He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Don’t worry. We’ll straighten it all out down at the station.” The female officer spoke in a soothing voice and smiled at Lauren.
“Looks like someone’s making the evening news.” The other officer pointed at the hordes of tourists who abandoned the ship to point their cameras at Jack.
