Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

by Saralee Rosenberg

  Beth sipped her tea instead of breaking the cease-fire. “I don’t know how I got here.”

  “I drove.”

  “I mean how I got to this point in my life.”

  “I ask myself that every day.”

  “Nothing makes sense…nothing makes me happy…everything I do turns out wrong, the people who supposedly love me are too self-absorbed to care what I want. You’re probably thinking I deserve it.”

  “Maybe a little, but to be honest, sometimes I feel the same way. Artie and I are killing ourselves to give our kids this incredible life, but the harder we work, the less we seem to have.”

  “At least you have a nice family.” Beth fiddled with her fork. “I always see you guys outside doing things together…and you’re lucky. Artie holds your hand and makes you laugh.”

  “Okay, never in a million years did I think you’d be jealous of me.”

  “Go figure.” Beth shrugged. “I think when you’re miserable, everyone’s life looks better.”

  “I hear ya.” Mindy nodded. Maybe they did have some common ground, though it was like finding eggshells in the mixture. Easy to spot, just too slippery to handle.

  “I know this is none of my business,” Mindy started, “but do you feel like talking about what happened?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  “Although I suppose that since I dragged you into this, I do owe you an explanation.”

  “It’s fine. It’s not like we’re friends—”

  “The truth is, at this point I don’t even know what to tell myself. Warren turned out to be a total psycho. He could have really hurt me. The whole thing was insane.”

  “Well thank God you’re okay. But it’s funny. On the way here I was thinking about my dad…the things he would say to me when I was confused and angry…he was one of those big believers in everything happening for a reason…bad things being good things in disguise. I bet he would have said that you got this out of your system and now you and Richard can start over.”

  “Doubt it. We’ve been on a downhill slide for a while…He won’t even answer my calls.”

  Mindy looked at her watch. “He should have landed by now. Maybe you could try again.”

  “Landed where?”

  “Oh my God. That’s right,” Mindy replied. “You don’t know. He flew to Portland this morning for some big Nike thing. And then remember I told you that Artie had to go to Portland for Aaron?”

  “Wait. Richard’s not at work?”

  “No. There was some kind of mix-up and Richard found out he had to fly there. Anyway, they both got picked up around four this morning. And strike me dead for repeating this, but he mentioned to Artie that he was going to talk to Nike about taking a job out there.”

  “Richard did not say that! He knows I would never leave New York.”

  “Well, I’m sure it was just venting.”

  “And I’m sure there was no mix-up. He just never pays attention to details. God, he’s insane. Move to Portland, Oregon? I dare him to even utter those words to me!”

  “Um, then I don’t suppose you want to hear the rest?”

  “There’s more? I’m gone for two freakin’ days.”

  “Oh, it’s been busy. Marina quit.”

  “Quit? Are you serious? Why?”

  “Come on. You guys were hardly Alice and Mrs. Brady. She said she found a family who was willing to pay her more; she left a few hours ago.”

  “Oh my God,” Beth gasped.

  “Yeah.” Mindy sighed. “And things don’t look promising on the contest front either. You know the scholarship thing? We were both picked, which was very cool, but I spoke to this lady Olivia who is one of the people running it, and it looks like she’s on the take.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Me either, but she actually told me she could make me the winner, as long as I split the prize money with her, so obviously the whole thing is a crock.”

  Just then the waitress brought their order and put Mindy’s plate in front of Beth.

  “Wait. That’s mine,” Mindy said as she watched Beth dig in. “Don’t you want what you ordered?”

  “Hell, no!” Beth inhaled the buttered toast. “Miss, can I have extra hash browns?”

  Mindy stared at her. “The chocolate cream pie looked pretty good, too.”

  “Fine.” Beth gobbled up the bacon. “Order it.”

  “A piece?”

  “No. The pie.”

  Thirteen

  If you live long enough, you see everything. So said the late Arthur Baumann. But one thing Mindy never thought she’d live to see was Beth eat anything other than nonfat, lo-carb tree bark. Thus it was quite a show watching her polish off every morsel on her plate, digging in to a chocolate cream pie, then grabbing the complimentary cookies on the way out.

  “I remember seeing a Dunkin’ Donuts down the block,” Mindy teased.

  “God no. I think I’m going to puke. I don’t know why, but lately I’m so hungry.”

  “Join the club. New members always welcome.”

  “How about returning members? I was a blimp in high school. In fact this whole place reminds me of high school. It’s like being in the cast of Grease. Can we please leave before someone starts teasing my hair?”

  For an hour they drove down Sunrise Highway, stopping at stations in Amityville, Copiague, Lindenhurst, and two they couldn’t identify. But alas there was no blue rental car. Mindy wondered if maybe the car had been stolen, to which Beth said, “You’ve obviously never driven it.”

  They were about to call the rental company to report it missing when Mindy remembered that Christine from her office, was married to an engineer for the Long Island Rail Road. Patrick might know which stations were located opposite a Starbucks.

  “All of them,” he said. “What else you got?”

  Fortunately, he did think to mention that the Babylon stop had several huge lots adjacent to it, and people often forgot where they parked. He also suggested that they check the numbered stalls, as those were the ones designated for nonresidents.

  Sure enough, Mindy drove around and there in a back lot in a numbered stall was the car.

  “I don’t believe it was here all along!” Beth punched the dashboard. “I am so mad!”

  “You?” Mindy said. “I had a few other things to do today.”

  Beth fumbled for her car keys and started to laugh.

  “You think this is funny, Miss Diamond?” Mindy used a stern teacher voice. “Do you want to share it with the class?”

  “No. Sorry.” Beth wiped a tear. “I swear I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve just been through something so horrible and degrading and I was scared to death sitting on that bench in Jessica’s little jean skirt thinking any minute I was going to be a rape victim and I must have been out of my mind when I packed because I had nothing better to put on. In fact this whole thing is insane: running away from home, ending up in some lunatic’s house who weighed himself constantly and gave himself Brazilian waxes in places you don’t want to know, then getting left at a train station without money, losing my car, having you show up in that ridiculous-looking sweatshirt—every time you wear it I cringe—”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Mindy looked down at a family photo that had been screen printed on a bright pink sweatshirt. “What’s wrong with it? My kids gave it to me last Mother’s Day.”

  “Sorry. You’re right.” She made a face. “It’s the thought that counts.”

  “That’s right! God! This is what I can’t stand about you. I took a day off from work to come rescue you and you’re still insulting me. Why are you so mean?”

  “I’m not trying to be. I just say what I think.”

  “Really? Okay. Let’s see how you like it. I hate your long nails. They look like fangs.”

  “They do not,” Beth said, admiring her French manicure. “And I’d rather have nails that were beautifully groomed than short stubs that have never been in
range of a cuticle scissors.”

  “Excuse me, but I don’t have the time and money to be so high maintenance, and furthermore, I cried when my kids gave me this sweatshirt. This picture was taken at Ricky’s birthday party at Adventureland before he got lost. Can you imagine getting lost at your own birthday party? Anyway, the girls thought if this ever happened again, we could just point to the picture and say, hey, have you seen this kid?”

  “Fine. It’s lovely. I’m wrong.”

  “Yes you are. Plus, I love things with sentimental value…. I still have my macaroni necklaces they made in nursery school and the terrariums made out of Sprite bottles.”

  “As soon as they weren’t looking, I threw all that stuff out. Who needs the clutter?”

  “Oh, come on. You didn’t love it when your kids did sweet things for you?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Beth sighed. “At least yours put some thought into your gifts. Last Mother’s Day the girls had no idea what they were giving me because they couldn’t even be bothered to wrap the box. They told Richard to let Bloomingdale’s do it.”

  “Okay, so your life isn’t as perfect as I thought. You’re still very lucky. You’re so pretty and you look like a teenager, you drive a beautiful car, you get to travel all the time, you don’t have to work, you get to spend your days playing golf and having lunch at the club, and your house is to die for…. I love your stone fireplace with the burgundy couches—they remind me of a beautiful ski chalet.”

  “That’s your big revelation? That I’m a spoiled brat?”

  “No. I’m just saying it’s so weird after all these years to find out that we’ve been jealous of each other. I’d kill to have half of what you have and you wished your family was more like mine.”

  “Maybe.”

  “And even though this whole situation is really sad, the way you ran off, the way you were treated by this jerk, I’m glad it happened.”

  “Oh, and I’m the bitch?”

  “It’s selfish, I know, but for the first time I’m seeing you from a different perspective. You’re not this arrogant little snob. I mean you are, but there’s another side to you. You can be sweet.”

  “It’s a little known fact, so keep it to yourself.”

  “You like being thought of as a rich bitch?”

  “Believe me, it has its advantages. Nobody dares to cross me.”

  “I can’t imagine ever wanting to have that image.”

  “Mindy, if you had all the money in the world, you would still be you.”

  “You mean that in a good way, right?”

  “Yes. You’re a good person. It’s possible I misjudged you.”

  “Possible?”

  “Fine. I did…and now that I think of it, I’d like to repay you.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “No, I want to.”

  “Okay. You have this silver bangle bracelet I love that—”

  “Not a chance. That was a birthday gift from my aunt…. I have a better idea. I’m taking you to see Nadia and having her clean up those eyebrows. Seriously, they’re worse than my dad’s. You’ve heard of waxing, right?”

  It would have been great had Artie returned Mindy’s calls while she was doing laundry, driving the car pool, picking up dinner, or straightening the house. Instead, while she was getting dressed, putting out refreshments for the pocketbook ladies, and helping Stacie study for a Spanish quiz—that’s when he decided it was a great time to talk.

  “I don’t know where to start.” Artie opened a beer. “Everything is such a mess.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At some motel near Davida’s house…Don’t bother checking it out with Triple A. Just watch Psycho.”

  “Oh my God. Move the dresser against the door. Where’s Aaron?”

  “With the girl.”

  “Did you meet her? What’s she like? Is she really pregnant? Is she keeping it? Do I have to learn how to knit?”

  “Stop. Yes I met her.”

  “And?”

  “And she’s a lot older than him. Like maybe twenty-one or twenty-two.”

  “That’s sick. He’s just a baby. Can we have her arrested?”

  “Give me a chance, okay? She seems nice for someone with a ring in her tongue, and there must have been a sale on tattoos ’cause she’s got a lot of ’em. Also, not sure what color you’d call her hair. Rainbow, maybe? No wait, that’s her name.”

  “Her name is Rainbow?” Mindy gasped. “Does that mean she’s…multi-cultural?”

  “Oh yes. A real combo plate. Part Native American, part black, even part Jewish.”

  “Really? Part Jewish?”

  “That’s what she said. Her mom’s second husband owned a bagel shop.”

  “Ah-ha. Yes. That would make her a member of the tribe.” Mindy laughed. “So what does she look like?”

  “Actually, she’s beautiful. Also big like bull…. She towers over Aaron, but then she’s got this squeaky little voice that sounds like Stevie Nicks sucking the air out of a balloon. Go figure that she’d be the lead vocalist in a band; that’s how they met. Aaron was jamming with them one night.”

  “Okay, but what’s the deal? Is she pregnant? Is he the father? Is she keeping it?”

  “Yes, she’s pregnant and I have no idea about the rest. They went somewhere to talk.”

  “Well, how is handling it? Is he happy? Sad? Did he start singing?”

  “I’ll tell you this. He wasn’t shocked, which means if it is his, and she does go through with it, he’s going to fight me on coming back to New York.”

  “Any chance he’s not the father?”

  “Funny you should ask. She did mention this guy John twice, so who knows? Maybe she was trying to drop a hint.”

  “Okay, well let’s pray, ’cause I’m still in shock that Aaron is now our responsibility. Could you imagine Rainbow and the baby, too? And what would they name it? Broken Rubber—would you stop it already?” Mindy yanked Jamie’s arm to get her to stop chasing Ricky. “I’m not kidding. Leave him alone.”

  “He called me a doody ball.” Jamie shook free.

  “Richard Arthur Sherman! Do I have to tell Daddy you’re using your garbage mouth?

  “Oh and get this.” Artie ignored the shenanigans. “Davida’s dad is ninety-two years old and living in a nursing home in Florida, and when they told him that both Wayne and Davida were dead, he was like good, let ’em burn in hell, those no-good bums.”

  “He’s probably senile.”

  “Actually, he sounded more with it than my dad. Anyway, they’re both being cremated tomorrow and the old man told the funeral director to save money and put ’em in the same urn.”

  “Ew?”

  “Yeah. But too late to worry about them. I’m more concerned with Aaron. He goes from being totally together to sounding like a three-year-old…do we know any good SAT tutors?”

  “Not offhand. But everyone we know with kids in high school has one on speed dial.”

  “Well start getting names because he never took them. He just thought he’d play in his band and get a big record deal, so who cared about college? Meanwhile, it looks like he may have to repeat his junior year because he was absent so much and missed a lot of work and tests.”

  “Oy-yoy-yoy. Okay, tomorrow I’ll call the district and find out what we have to do…but to be honest, it still hasn’t registered that he’s coming to live with us. I just wish we had a bigger house.”

  “Trust me, compared to the way he’s been living, our place will feel like Hugh Hefner’s mansion, and Wayne’s house wasn’t any better. No food in the fridge, only three cases of beer, and these big bags of cat food in the garage. I was in this lady’s office over at family services and started bawling. All I could think about was that my son was leading this god-awful existence and I didn’t know…. I wasn’t there for him—”

  “Artie, you can’t blame yourself. You tried for years to be a part of his life and they shut you out. At least now he�
��s all yours.”

  “I know,” he sniffed. “I know. Thank God.”

  “So have you talked to him about coming back with you?”

  “Not really. I was waiting to see how the whole Rainbow thing went down, but I have to say. This is one beautiful city. You look out and see Mount Hood and the Columbia River and all these trendy restaurants and shops. This is a happening place!”

  “We are not moving to Portland.”

  “I know. I’m just saying…We could have a real decent quality of life here. The air is clean, the schools are great, and everything is so much cheaper than on Long Island. I almost fell over when I saw Davida’s electric bill. She was paying for two months what we pay for a day and you know how much I always liked the Trailblazers.”

  “We are not moving to Portland.”

  “Fine. I get it…but listen to this. Remember I used to talk about my friend Andy Levinger from optometry school?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you do. He was the guy who taught me how to ski, remember? I used to go with him on weekends to his parent’s house in the Adirondacks. I could never figure out how he was like this fearless warrior on the slopes and such a pussycat with the rest of his life. Anyway, you’re never going to believe this, but I saw his name on a billboard this morning. Looks like he moved out here, probably for the skiing, and now he’s got a bunch of offices. I just called and left a message. Sounds like he’s doing great. You never know if he needs help.”

  “Artie, have you lost your mind? We can not move to Portland. We have family here, friends, a business…Look I have to go now. The pocketbook ladies are at the door. I’ll call you when it’s over—wait…Find out if the women in Portland have these stupid parties. If they don’t, maybe I’ll think about it.”

  Next door, another conversation was taking place between spouses in Long Island and Portland, but it was of a much louder, angrier nature. Beth had returned home to find that just as Mindy had warned, she was minus both a husband and a housekeeper. Her two daughters remained, of course, and though they were relieved to see their mother, they circled warily. She had hurt them terribly, leaving them fearful of their future.