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Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

Page 8

by Saralee Rosenberg


  “They all have cell phones, too?” Aaron looked faint.

  Seven

  When you learn that a loved one has possibly had a heart attack, there is no time to think or feel or even worry. As you rush to the scene, your only response is to pray from every pore that a competent doctor is on call and that by the time you arrive, the worst is over and the patient is being given a prescription for heartburn medicine.

  You do not expect to find them hooked up to a heart monitor with their nose and mouth covered by breathing apparatus. You do not expect their skin to be as white as the paper on the examining room table. You mostly do not expect them to wink when the doctor isn’t looking.

  Mindy’s eyes bugged out. Was Artie sharing this last moment of intimacy before he passed or letting her in on a joke? Because if this was a joke, she was going to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his neck and squeeze the pump until his temples bulged worse than Stan’s.

  Turns out the truth, like Artie, lay somewhere in between.

  “I was hoping you’d bring Aaron,” he said as Mindy wheeled him out of the clinic.

  “Why? So you could beg him to come with us and say it was the wish of a dying man?”

  “Sort of.”

  “You are such an asshole. Do you realize how terrified I was? I could have keeled over from a heart attack just thinking about you having a heart attack. And do you realize that they could have prevented you from getting on the plane right now? You’re lucky that the doctor believed you when you said you were fine.”

  “Well, that and the EKG. Everything was normal. And I’m sorry about scaring you. I really was getting coffee when I started to feel chest pains, but I think it was probably from all the worry that my plan had failed and I was out of ideas.”

  “Wait. What? This was all part of a plan? Hold on. It’s my cell…bet it’s someone from your lovely family wanting to know if you’re dead or alive, and where did I put the snack bag?”

  “Yeah, where is everyone? How come nobody came with you?”

  “I tried, believe me. But God forbid anyone should miss the boarding announcement and the first crack at the blankets. Hi. Yeah, no, he’s fine. They don’t think it was a heart attack, just palpitations from heartburn. We’re on our way back. Oh no. The flight was delayed again?” She repeated for Artie’s sake. “Bummer.” But good news! We won’t have to squeeze in a funeral before we leave. Wow. Your dad’s concern for you overwhelms me. Now tell me about this stupid-ass plan of yours, and how come no one has said a word about Aaron not going with us?”

  “Because I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Well that was really bright. Don’t you think by day two they’d notice he wasn’t there?”

  “I didn’t say anything because he’s still going with us.”

  “He changed his mind?”

  “No.”

  “You changed his flight again?”

  “No, I never changed it in the first place.”

  “Artie, are you serious? You lied to him?”

  “Hell, yes! They wanted four hundred bucks for a one-way ticket and the only available flight wasn’t leaving until six o’clock tonight. What was I supposed to do? Let him wait around here all day by himself? Besides, I knew if he came with us, he’d end up having a great time.”

  “Oh my God! Then what were you doing yesterday when you went on the computer?”

  “What do you think? Checking the weather in Mexico and watching Knicks highlights.”

  “So this whole thing was planned? You faked a heart attack and hoped he’d say he’d do anything if God saved you?”

  “Well no. I wasn’t planning on taking it that far. I thought I might pretend to be sick while we were at the gate and have him realize that he had feelings for me and that it might be nice if he got to spend time with us.”

  “Stupid, stupid plan. No teenager in their right mind would want to spend time with us. So now what, Dr. Phil?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m going to have to level with him. Tell him the truth.”

  “That you lied? That you never made him a new reservation? That he’s going on the cruise and goddamn it, he’s going to have the time of his life?”

  “I like how you summed that up. Maybe you should tell him.”

  “Forget it. The only thing I’m going to tell him is that his father is an idiot.”

  No big surprise when they returned to the gate. The family was exactly where Mindy had left them, with one exception.

  “Hello?” Mindy called out. “Anyone notice that Aaron is gone?”

  “Daddy!” Ricky ran over. “You didn’t die…can I ride on your wheelchair?”

  “Sure. Where is your brother?”

  “He’s talking to a giiiirl.” Ricky jumped on his father’s lap. “Ewwww.”

  “What girl? Where?”

  “Over there,” he said, pointing to a corner by the window. “She’s going on the cruise, too, and she has this big tattoo on her tushie.”

  “She showed it to you?” Mindy gulped.

  “No, silly mommy! She showed it to Aaron…. Do you think they’re gonna get married? Nana says you can get married on the ship.”

  “Nobody’s getting married on the ship.” Mindy glanced at Artie. “Divorced, maybe.”

  “Hey, look.” Artie pointed to a happy-faced Aaron, who was strumming his air guitar. “One miracle requested? One miracle delivered.”

  “Not so fast. You have to go tell him the truth.”

  Artie nodded and headed to confession, though it was laughter that Mindy heard.

  “He’s a smart one all right.” Artie came back. “He knew all along.”

  “No way.”

  “Yeah. He thought I went too easy on him after my big speech about never letting him out of my sight, so he went on line and found out flight ninety-four goes to London.”

  “And he was okay with that?”

  “He is now.” Artie high-fived her. “Melissa from Manchester over there sings lead in a girl band and looks like Miss July.”

  Even with its vast passenger list, tight living quarters, and assortment of strangers with whom you must mingle, once your bags have miraculously been delivered to your cabins and you are settled in, there is nothing quite like cruising for fun and relaxation.

  Mindy got right into the flow by settling into a deck chair, as an indebted Artie had given her time off for good behavior before the ship set sail. While he and the kids were running around marveling at the floating playground, she was taking in the warm rays and reflecting on the most bizarre week of her life…save for the week she got married and Rhoda moved in with her and her mom to make sure the wedding details were being taken care of to her satisfaction.

  How had she survived the craziness with Stacie and Beth, the endless e-mails from Rhoda, the encounters with Aaron, the run-in with Stan, the terror over losing all that money, and, finally, Artie’s fake heart attack? She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but the cool piña colada along with the warm, tropical breeze was helping to ease the pain.

  She was so caught between neurosis and Nirvana, she didn’t care what everyone decided about the sleeping arrangements, as long as she wasn’t rooming with Dana. All she needed was to be woken at dawn for green tea and Tai Chi. “Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it,” would be Dana’s mantra, which like a recorded message, would keep repeating on Mindy like a pepperoni pizza. Make that flaxseed and barley.

  What did make Mindy happy was recalling the surprised look on Aaron’s face when her mom presented him with welcome gifts. He didn’t quite know what to say about the *NSYNC beach towel, which everyone but Helene knew was so yesterday. But the waterproof watch went right on his wrist, and when he smiled, it deepened the luster of his brown eyes, matching his dad’s like a set of lost luggage that had finally been reunited with its owner.

  Maybe Artie was right. This whole family vacation experiment was going to work out great. Everyone was in good spirits, the weather forecast
was perfect, and now she finally had a minute’s peace to speculate on her little victory with Downtown Greetings.

  When was the last time she’d received any validation for having writing talent? Or any talent? Could she be so lucky as to have finally discovered her purpose in life? If only she hadn’t mentioned her excitement to Artie over dinner that night, as it moved him a little too profoundly.

  Maybe it was the emotion of looking around the table and seeing his entire family assembled for the first time ever. Maybe it was the relief that he was about to have a week’s reprieve from his troubles. Maybe it was that when he looked at Mindy, he was overjoyed that she was still his best friend, still the woman who loved him and laughed with him. Or maybe it was just the bottle of wine he had polished off with Ira.

  He stood up to make a toast to his wonderful family and beautiful wife, who was about to embark on an exciting career opportunity, which she so deserved.

  “Sit down,” Mindy whispered. “I didn’t want to tell anyone yet.”

  “Why not? They’ll all be so proud of you.”

  “May I remind you this is your family?”

  “What kind of career opportunity?” Stan barked. Cue temples. “She’s already got a job.”

  “No, no, I know Dad,” Artie said. “This is something different. Something extra.”

  “Well, I’m not changing her schedule so she can go work somewhere else. It’s bad enough I gotta rearrange things when it’s Hebrew School and soccer. I’m running a doctor’s office, not a day-care center.” Right side vibrating.

  “Dad. Relax. Mindy is still working for you. This is more like a contest she entered.”

  “A contest?” Ira butt in. “Mindy, what the hell? Now you’re tryin’ to win a job?”

  “Here it comes.” Mindy gulped the last of her wine.

  “It’s not what you think,” Artie replied.

  “Yeah. Who enters a contest for a job if they already have one?” Stan asked.

  “Guys, listen.” Artie tapped his glass with a spoon. “It’s a writing contest for Downtown Greetings. Think of it as like American Idol for birthdays and holidays.”

  “I didn’t know Mindy could sing,” Rhoda said. “Stan, did you know she could sing?”

  “Mom. It’s not a singing contest, it’s a writing contest. And she’s going to Chicago because she made it through the first round of competition.”

  “I never buy Downtown Greetings,” Dana sniffed. “They don’t use recycled paper.”

  “You win, Mindy,” Ira groaned. “You found something my wife doesn’t like buying.”

  “When’s she going to Chicago?” Stan’s temples did the chacha. “If she takes extra vacation days, the girls in the office will never let me hear the end of it.”

  “Mindy, you didn’t say anything about this.” Her mom leaned over. “If you need me to watch the kids, you gotta let me know ’cause my mahjong weekend is coming up.”

  “Happy?” Mindy whispered to Artie. “I know I am.”

  “I think it’s cool,” Aaron muttered.

  “What?” Artie cupped his ear.

  “I’m just sayin’. She’s funny, so her cards would be a hoot.”

  “Thank you, Aaron.” Mindy patted his hand.

  “Yeah. Don’t listen to them.” He stuffed pie in his mouth. “Anyone wanna go throw beer off the deck? Give the fish a good time?”

  “I do! I do!” Ricky jumped up.

  “See?” Artie was beaming. “My sons understand!”

  “Oh, I understand, too,” Stan grumbled. “I understand that once again I’m expected to be Mr. Nice Guy.”

  “You’re a doctor, Papa.” Ricky clapped. “Dr. Nice Guy.”

  “That’s me all right!” He poured more wine. “Dr. Nice Guy!”

  Mindy didn’t want to be accused of being negative, but clearly the right destination with the wrong people never works, particularly if those people are staying in the same stateroom. Try as Rhoda did to accommodate everyone’s wishes (hers!), the room assignments went like this: she and Stan would have the Royal Family suite (“Because it’s our special anniversary and we’re paying”). Ira and Brandon were bunking with Artie and Aaron. Helene and Aunt Toby got Stacie and Jamie, which left Mindy and Ricky in a cabin with Dana and Abigail, who, on the first morning, threw Mindy’s new blush brush down the toilet and cried when mean Aunt Mindy yelled at her.

  “Why don’t you guys watch TV while we get changed?” Mindy tried to be sweeter.

  “She doesn’t watch at home,” Dana sniffed. “Why would she want to watch here?”

  “She doesn’t watch television? Like ever?”

  “There was that one time Plácido Domingo was on Sesame Street…Abby, honey, why don’t you sing Aunt Mindy that song you learned about photosynthesis?”

  But Aunt Mindy couldn’t offer “Abby honey” her undivided attention, as she was distracted by Ricky, who had wrapped a plastic snake around his neck and was shadowboxing on their bed while making chimpanzee noises. Premonition was the term that came to mind.

  Good thing she’d brought the walkie-talkies. She’d set the alarm early every morning, get coffee, find a quiet spot to detox from Dana, and have Artie locate her position. They’d just have to be a little more creative finding ways to meet for sex. To their surprise, Aaron became their ally. When Artie signaled, he’d round up the kids and promise to sneak them into the casinos.

  Mindy’s only hope was that he didn’t expect them to return the favor so he could get it on with Melissa from Manchester. How did one have the “talk” with a seventeen-year-old who could probably give them a few good pointers?

  Mindy sneaked into Artie’s stateroom, turned on by the prospect of having a scandalous little midday birthday interlude, though it was with her own husband, so call off the paparazzi. She quickly changed into her favorite black negligee, saddened that it had fit much better before her long-term affair with Ben and Jerry. Although as her friend Rochelle liked to say, “Once a man’s between your thighs, he’s not askin’ what the scale says.”

  But when Artie was a no-show, anticipation was replaced with anger. If he was hanging out at the Cigar Bar with Ira, no gift from a ship boutique would make up for it. This was followed by fear. What if the heart attack was real this time and he was lying on the bottom of the pool?

  Naturally her first instinct was to call his cell, but one thing that hit you hard after the ship sailed was that you might as well toss it overboard, ’cause service was spotty to nonexistent and the kids had the walkie-talkies.

  All she could do was pace inside the tiny cabin, watch CNN in Spanish, break into the minibar, and ponder if Dana and Ira were also finding ways to have sex, though she doubted from Dana’s stiff I-don’t-find-you-funny reactions to everything Ira said that she much cared. “Sorry, Ira. I have water Pilates at ten, my aromatherapy massage at eleven…”

  By the time Artie turned the key, Mindy had changed back into a big T-shirt and shorts. “I don’t know where you’ve been, but I turned down six good offers.”

  Artie, his face red and perspired from the heat, sat on the edge of the bed, staring out.

  “Hello?” she waved her hand in front of his face. “Please don’t tell me you got the cabin numbers mixed up and had sex with someone else, ’cause no offense, but you don’t have that much to go around anymore.”

  “She died,” he said.

  “What? Who? Who died?”

  “Davida.” He waved a piece of paper in the air.

  “Oh my God. She died? What does that mean?”

  “What do you mean what does that mean? It means she crapped out. She’s gone to meet her maker.”

  “No, I get that part. What does that mean for Aaron…for us?”

  “What kind of question is that? I just found out like two minutes ago. I have no idea what it means. I’m in shock.”

  “Wait. Are you upset because your first wife died or your second wife is thinking we’ve got only ten minutes left for sex?


  “That’s not even funny, Mindy. God! What is wrong with you? A forty-four-year-old woman who was bright and artistic and made beautiful patchwork quilts for half our neighborhood in Queens got sucked into a drug world and basically took her own life…. I think you would have liked her….”

  “Oh. Then I’m sorry for your loss…. I didn’t know you had feelings for her anymore.”

  “I don’t…. I’m just…I don’t know what to do. Do I tell Aaron? Do I not tell him? Do I get him on a flight out tomorrow, when we get to Cozumel? Do I go with him?”

  “I have no idea. Wait. How did you even find out?”

  “I was down at the bursar’s, buying tickets for the snorkel trip tomorrow, and the woman sees my name and says, sir, I think you just got a telegram. And I’m thinking, they still have those? Turns out it was from my ex-brother-in-law, Wayne, and it said, “Urgent! Call me. Sad news.” And then I’m like, damn, those ship-to-shore calls are so expensive. Should I wait until tomorrow and try to use one of those overseas phone cards?”

  “But you had a feeling?”

  “Well yeah, sure. I mean we knew she was in rehab, although people don’t usually die there…. Anyway, I called and he told me she was supposed to be getting out in a few days…but they found her in her room this morning. They think it was a heart attack.”

  “Ohmygod!”

  “Yeah. And get this. He also told me that Davida kicked Aaron out of the house a few months ago. Said she couldn’t handle him anymore because he was too wild.”

  “Great.”

  “No, no. But that wasn’t the real story. Wayne said she was the one who was too wild. She was totally strung out all the time and then she got arrested for auto theft or something. Anyway, Aaron ended up living with him and he said Davida wouldn’t let him even come back to the house to visit…. Can you believe that? My kid was orphaned and homeless?”

  “That poor thing!”

  “Yeah, but Wayne said it wasn’t his fault. He’s a great kid.”

  “And what about Wayne? Is he a good guy?”

  “When he’s sober? A sweetheart. ’Course to him a balanced meal is a Bud in each hand.”

 

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