Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

by Saralee Rosenberg

  “You dare say that to me in a room full of sharp knives?”

  “I’m trying to make amends…. I really need a friend.”

  “Why?” Mindy sat back up. “Don’t you have a whole group from the country club and your tennis league? And what about all those girls you go to Canyon Ranch with every year?”

  “They’re around…I just don’t…things are different now…they know me one way…I just can’t…I don’t want to be her anymore.”

  Suddenly Beth leaned over the counter and cried. It was a loud uncontrollable sob that would otherwise be heard at the news of a loved one’s funeral and Mindy didn’t know how to react. Had it been one of her children, or Artie or Nadine or her mom, she would have hugged them and stroked their hair. But this was Beth.

  “I’m sorry.” Beth blew into a tissue. “I don’t know what it is about being with you…. I always feel like I can cry.”

  “I get that a lot. Here. You sit and I’ll watch the tea. I promise you won’t die from it.”

  “Thank you.” She clutched a wad of tissues as if they could protect like Band-Aids. “Everything is such a disaster and I’m so miserable and I just want to blame someone, but the statute of limitations is up on my parents, and the girls have done nothing wrong, and Richard has done everything wrong, but I can’t decide if he lies to me because I’m so unhappy with him or I’m so unhappy with him because he lies about everything.”

  “You know?” Mindy’s eyes opened.

  “You know?” Beth’s eyes opened wider.

  “I don’t know what I know…I’ve heard gossip, but I really try not to listen because half the time it’s not true…and the other half it is.”

  “I hate this town,” Beth whimpered. “Why can’t people mind their own damn business?”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t really think it’s different anywhere else. We’re all voyeurs today. Whether it’s Paris Hilton or the family down the block, it’s so much more fun to judge someone else’s life. Then you don’t have to bother looking at your own.”

  “I guess.” She tried to collect herself. “So what’s the word on us?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “No, I want to know. I’m sure everyone here was talking tonight. What did they say?”

  “Just stupid stuff. Someone thought they saw Richard with this girl on Fire Island.”

  Beth nodded, surprising Mindy. Where was the denial? The righteous indignation?

  “Who knew? I could have saved money if I’d just had my neighbors do the spying,” she mumbled. “I’ve spent thousands on private investigators and that stupid nanny cam.”

  “Ew, ew, ew… you think that Richard and Marina?”

  “God no. She had much better sense than that. But don’t you remember? Before Marina we had that Bridget, the au pair from Sweden who used to run around in halter tops and shorts and spritz on my ninety-dollar-an-ounce perfume right before Richard got home? I don’t know what the hell I was thinking when I hired her.”

  “I do remember her. All of a sudden Artie started dieting. Did you ever catch them?”

  “No, but I fired her anyway. You know how boring it is sitting through hours and hours of video day after day waiting for something to happen? The most I caught her doing was stealing my pistachio nuts. Anyway, my point is that I’ve always had to keep an eye on Richard. He drinks too much and he’s a big flirt.”

  “So you’ve never actually caught him with another woman.”

  “Another woman, yes. A nanny, no, thank God. But trust me, he’s never getting angel wings.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Mindy sighed. “I’m in shock. To us, Richard’s always been this stand-up guy who’s so funny and helpful. A few weeks ago he came right over when Artie couldn’t get the grill started, and he got Stephon Marbury’s autograph for Jamie. Plus he’s such a great dad. He’s always taking the girls skiing and to Disney.”

  “That’s the thing. When it comes to impressing people, he’s the best. Then you pull back the curtain and his stories have more holes than a golf course. He’ll be out of town on business and I’ll say I heard on the news it’s raining there and he’ll say, no it’s a gorgeous day. Then he’ll come home and tell me he got soaked because he didn’t have an umbrella.”

  “Well has he tried counseling? What about talking to the new rabbi? He seems pretty with it. You can’t give up without a fight.”

  “All we do is fight.”

  “You know what I mean. You’ve been together all these years, and you have a beautiful home and a family. And what about Jess’s bat mitzvah? You have to work this out.”

  “That’s just it,” she cried. “He called me from his hotel just now and said he wants out.”

  “I don’t believe it. I’ve seen you together and family is his whole life. Remember the night we came home from the airport with Aaron? Richard looked like he’d been crying because he thought you were playing around.”

  “It’s an act.” She grabbed more tissues. “The whole thing is an act.”

  “No way!”

  “That’s how pathological liars are. I’m always telling him to forget Penn Station. He should get off at Broadway. And believe me, you’re not the only one he’s fooled. Why do you think his clients love him so much? He comes off as this boy genius who’s funny and charming. Of course his bosses all know he’s full of shit, but business is business.”

  “Then why put up with it? I can’t even screw up the car pool without you getting crazy. He lies to you and that’s okay?”

  “No, of course it’s not okay, but why do you think I get so upset over the car pool? It’s because it’s one of the few things in my control.”

  “Yeah, but still…How do you accept this kind of life?”

  “My therapist says the reason I don’t fight back is because then I’d have to acknowledge that I’m a hypocrite. When I started seeing Richard, he was engaged.”

  “You mean you found out later?” The kettle whistled and Mindy searched for clean mugs.

  “No, I knew from the beginning,” she sniffed. “She was always coming by the office. Richard was my boss at Grey Advertising. It’s all so cliché. The whole story about long hours and tight quarters. He had an office with a couch and a door with a lock.”

  “So wait. That’s the deal? Because you knew he was capable of dishonesty then, you think you have to put up with it now?”

  “I realize it sounds stupid, but yes. The whole relationship started out on the basis of lies and deception, so how shocked can I be that he’s doing it to me? And the other reason I tolerate all his crap is because, well, aside from my marriage, I have a very nice life.”

  “Wait. What? A bad marriage is a minor inconvenience? I could never live like that.”

  “You say that now, but it’s not that simple. You look at what you’ve got versus what you’d lose, and don’t jump all over me for saying this, but maybe the difference between us is that I have more to lose. I’ve got the house of my dreams, the freedom to spend my day as I please, we take great vacations, I’ve got medical insurance. You’ve heard of friends with benefits? This is marriage with benefits. It’s just not love.”

  “That is so sad.”

  “I used to think so, too. Then I realized half my friends were in the same boat. They’re actually happy they’re out of love with their husbands. They shop all they want, have this great life, and don’t have to deal with sex. It’s like the cell phone ads. Nights and weekends are free.”

  “Well that doesn’t sound very appealing to me. You deserve the real deal.”

  “No such thing.” Beth sipped her tea. “Happily married is a myth. Women fake it like they do everything else.”

  “Not me…I mean yeah, I get so pissed sometimes I want to kill Artie, but I still love him.” She toyed with the pocketbook. “Although I do agree that a lot of marriages are like this bag. You think no one can tell it’s a fake, but that doesn’t make it real.”

  “Huh?”r />
  “Well, at first glance it looks authentic and there’s no reason to think otherwise. But examine it closely and you’ll see the stitching is crooked and the label is coming unglued. Maybe the reason the real bag is worth so much is because it will stand the test of time. Maybe the reason you’re having such a hard time with Richard is because you accepted the knockoff.”

  “Lovely thought,” she sighed. “I’ve got dozens of designer bags in my closet but my marriage is a fake…except for one major difference. My marriage has been no bargain. I’ve paid dearly for it.”

  “Fine, but now what? You can’t just throw it out.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “Not if you still love him. Do you?”

  “I have no idea what that even means anymore. I know I used to. He was so smart and beautiful and he totally cracked me up. I couldn’t wait to be alone with him.”

  “Well, look, I’m not saying take it back to the honeymoon stage, ’cause Lord knows the thermostat gets turned down for everyone. I’m just asking, is there enough heat to try?”

  “Why bother? He’s made it clear that he wants out.”

  “Yes, but what do you want? What if in spite of everything you still love him and he feels the same about you? I’ve seen the way he looks at you and as long as there’s no Oscar statue in your living room, I don’t believe it’s all an act. I think he truly adores you.”

  “Who knows?” Beth threaded her tissues.

  “Okay, let me ask you this.” Mindy went on. “Whose name is the house in?”

  “Both of ours…why?”

  “Because I saw this doctor lady on Oprah who talked about an idea that might work.”

  “I’m listening. What’s the idea?”

  “Can’t tell you unless I get my Lucky Charms.”

  “You have Lucky Charms?”

  “The Costco size.”

  “I’ll get the milk!” Beth raced to the fridge. “Do they still have those little green marshmallows? Dibs on those!”

  Fifteen

  The last thing Mindy needed after her all-night “cerealathon” with Beth was to get an early-morning wake-up call from Stacie. “MOM!!!! I got it!” she shrieked from the bathroom.

  Ohmygod! “I’m coming!” Mindy hightailed it down the hall. “Mommy’s coming.”

  “This is so gross!”

  “Can I come in?” Mindy stood outside the door.

  “No!” Stacie yelled. “You’re going to slap me.”

  “I’m not going to slap you.” Mindy laughed. “I don’t even understand that silly tradition. Do you have the pads I bought you?”

  “MOM! Oh my God, why don’t you just yell so the whole block hears?”

  “I’m not yelling. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “I don’t know…. My stomach is killing me and it went through my pajamas. I am not going to school.”

  “Let’s take one step at a time. Just let me in so I can help you.”

  Stacie waddled over to the door and hid behind it. “I hate this! I’m gonna die if I get this every month.”

  “I remember saying the same thing.” Mindy zeroed in on the blood-stained rug and knew she’d better get it in the wash before Ricky saw it and started screaming there were monsters in the house.

  “I wish I never had to have it!” she cried. “I’m not ready.”

  “I know, sweetie, but think of it as joining a new club. We meet monthly to eat chocolate.”

  “Jillian Wynter told me that once you get it you look pregnant and your jeans don’t fit.”

  “Well, Jillian Wynter is wrong. Once you get it you automatically start to act like an adult who makes excellent decisions about not smoking, drinking, or hooking up with bad boys.”

  “You mean Britney Spears never got her period?”

  “Good point! Let’s get you some Advil and clean underwear and I’ll show you how to wear the pads so you don’t waddle. Welcome to womanhood.” She gently slapped her face.

  “Hey! You said that was stupid.”

  “I know, but I just realized why moms do it. They start to think about their daughters dating and they smack ’em around to remind ’em who’s boss.”

  Mindy should have known that a morning that began with blood and screaming would be an ominous sign. If only she’d had time to consult with her online astrologer to find out what else was in store so that she could stock up on Oreos, the breakfast of cowards.

  As of now, the day was scheduled to be a repeat of yesterday’s chaos, hopefully minus the rescue mission in Babylon. She had agreed to do the morning car pool so that Beth could gather strength for her own brewing storm (“I must find a cleaning lady!”), but it still meant getting her three kids moving and Rebecca to the high school, then coming back for the other school runs, opening the store, and being at work by ten.

  What she didn’t need in the middle of helping Stacie and assuring her that yes, girls all over the world did attend school in spite of having their periods, was a phone call from Rhoda demanding the name and phone number of the accounting firm that handled Stan’s medical practice. “I wouldn’t have had to bother you on the phone if you’d answered my e-mails.”

  I’m surprised I still get your e-mails. I report them as spam! “Rhoda, I really wish you wouldn’t ask me to get in the middle of this whole thing.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “I’m not on anyone’s side. I just want to go in and do my job…not to mention Stan signs my paycheck.”

  “Well I will certainly remember this the next time you need something from me! Where is Arthur?”

  “You know where he is. He’s in Portland with Aaron”…and maybe moving there wouldn’t be such a bad idea…. “And aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself here? You don’t need to see the books. I’m sure the two of you will work this out.”

  “This has nothin’ to do with the books. I just like knowin’ how things are run over there in case something ever happens to Stan and I have to take over…like a governor’s wife.”

  You mean in case you kill him? “Fine. Then call Edna. She’s the office manager.”

  “We no longer speak. She’s an incompetent oaf who can’t keep her big trap shut.”

  “Rhoda, I can’t deal with this right now. Stacie got her period, I’m trying to get the kids up, I have to drive Nadine’s daughter to school—”

  “Well, excuse me for interrupting your busy life, but I don’t understand how one little favor is such a big megillah.”

  “Fine. The minute I get in I’ll call you with the accountant’s phone number.”

  “No. I won’t be home. I have my ‘mahj’ game, a lunch date, and a root canal at three. Just e-mail me so I can get it later.”

  Mindy could have also done without the text messages from Nadine about Jonathan’s audition and how he’d thrown up, and she was so nervous for him she couldn’t stop crying, and Peter was yelling at her because she was making things worse, and not to forget that Rebecca had to be at school early for extra help.

  Nor did she need the phone call from the unit coordinator at the nursing home saying that her grandmother’s blood pressure was so high, they were taking her for tests and did Mindy want to meet the ambulance at the hospital or wait to hear from the doctor?

  Mindy chose option B. She’d wait to hear from the doctor first. “Oh,” the woman said. “And before I hang up, do you know anything about the pickle dish that was stolen from her?”

  Damn! Not the pickle dish again. It was the dementia talking, of course. Right before she and her mom moved her grandmother into the home, they’d cleaned out her apartment and found a glass pickle dish with the Alexander’s price tag still glued to the bottom. It was a nothing tchotchke, but Helene said she’d enjoy having it as it brought back memories of all the Sunday dinners she’d enjoyed at her then future husband’s house. Only to have Grandma Jenny accuse her of stealing her most prized family heirloom.

  Since then, Helene hadn’t vis
ited. Therefore it was unlikely that Mindy would repeat the story that she was still asking about the dish, let alone that she’d said that it had been taken by a ganef who had been stealing her blind for years.

  Mindy collapsed in a kitchen chair, feeling ambushed by a morning that was less than an hour old. Hopefully all the bad news was now out of the way.

  “Mom!!!” Jamie shouted from upstairs. “Alanna Decker’s mom wants to know what we’re doing for my bat mitzvah.”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing for lunch today, let alone two years from now. Why is she asking?”

  “I dunno. She just IM’d me.”

  “You aren’t supposed to be on the computer before school, remember?” Mindy raced into the foyer. “Now sign off and get dressed. I have to go get Rebecca and you make sure Ricky is moving.”

  “I can’t. I’m still printing my book report. Why does the bathroom smell like bird guts?”

  “It doesn’t smell like bird guts. Just print what you have to, then get ready. Wait. We didn’t even get your bat mitzvah date yet. Why would Alanna’s mother be asking about it?”

  “Because their temple gave out their dates yesterday and her mom called ours to see who had the same date, and they told her it was me.”

  “Are you kidding me? The temple gave the date to a family who’s not even a member before they informed us, the people who pay dues? That is so sick. By the way, when is it?”

  “May 14, 2010.”

  “Nice! Maybe it’s Mother’s Day weekend, but why did Alanna’s mom need to know?”

  “Because they’re having her party on a Saturday night like they did for her sister, and her mom said that since Alanna is one of the most popular girls in school, they would feel bad if someone with the same date also did a Saturday night and everyone went to Alanna’s party.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me? That’s what she said? Oh my God! What a piece of work! Well you know what? You go back and IM Alanna and tell her to tell her idiot mother that it is none of her goddamn business what our plans are, and I don’t care if her guests are wearing black-tie pajamas to the Waldorf Astoria! We are doing whatever we damn well please, but not to worry because the way things are going, the only party we’ll be able to afford is at a Wendy’s that’s open late.”