Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

by Saralee Rosenberg

  The one who had promised to bring her husband back for a second look at Mindy’s house had twin boys, first graders who looked like middle linebackers. The one showing interest in Beth’s house was a law professor whose ten-year-old daughter was a music prodigy. “The moms would totally hate each other,” Mindy said as she taped a box.

  “Forget that car pool!” Beth said, and handed her another Lladro.

  “So have you guys decided anything about Jess’s bat mitzvah?” Mindy sneezed.

  “Please! Not on ‘A Moment’s Pause.’ It’s a limited edition…. Every time I bring it up, Richard says not to worry. Portland is a modern city with running water and DJs.”

  “He’s not worried about losing all the deposits?”

  “He said he’d rather lose his money than his family. Plus, I forgot to tell you. He spoke to that Andy Levinger guy and found out the temple they belong to has the Thanksgiving weekend available, so if we joined there, at least we could keep the same date.”

  “That’s perfect for your out-of-towners.”

  “You mean the entire guest list?” Beth collapsed on the couch.

  “Hey! We’ll be local, hard as that is to believe.”

  “You can’t believe?” Beth shifted to a more comfortable position. “At least you won’t be taking a bath when you sell. Every night I wake up in a sweat.”

  “Duh…pregnancy and perimenopause equals the hormone hotel. Some are checkin’ in, some are checkin’ out!”

  “I wish that’s all it was. I’m still having nightmares about the crash, and still having anxiety attacks about the baby. I thought I’d feel different by now…not so depressed.”

  “Are you sure you’re depressed? Maybe you’re just overwhelmed. I mean who wouldn’t be going crazy if they were moving across the country and planning a bat mitzvah and a bris for the same week?”

  “I feel so much better now, thank you…. You really think I’m having a boy?”

  “Yep.”

  “I think it’s a boy, too. It just feels different than it did with the girls.”

  “Are you going to find out before?”

  “I don’t want to, but Richard is already hocking me. He’s dying for a son!”

  “That’s what he told Artie. And the doctor is sure about the due date?”

  “Positive. I almost fell off the table when he told me late November.”

  “Oh my God. What if you went into labor at Jessica’s service?”

  “And you wonder why I’m depressed?”

  “Well, look at it this way,” Mindy said. “You kept telling me how miserable you were, how you hated your life, your friends, and now look. Instant makeover! You’re getting to start over in a brand-new city, in a brand-new house, with a brand-new baby—”

  “And the same old husband.”

  “C’mon, think positive. He’s working his ass off; he’s seeing a shrink, he’s been out house hunting with Artie; he’s excited about the baby. You should be thrilled.”

  “Why do you always have to see the bright side and ruin everything?”

  “It’s the new me! I finally realized my bad attitude was making every situation worse.”

  “Okay, but let’s be honest. The reason you’re so calm now is you’re not flat broke. It helps to have money.”

  “No, it helps to have faith. And perspective. Those things turned out to be free of charge. It’s like my dad would say: ‘Mindeleh, nothing is ever as bad as it seems or as good.’”

  “Then why do I keep fantasizing about running away, which of course I can’t do because I’ve got this ball and chain around me.”

  “Not a ball and chain.” Mindy smiled. “An anchor. A reason to stay with your family and build this new life together. I swear this baby was so meant to be.”

  “Oh, please. Not the whole bashert thing. I don’t buy it. Not everything is fate.”

  “Really? Then how do you explain that in Hebrew there is no literal translation for the word coincidence? The closest meaning is ‘hand of God.’ What does that tell you?”

  “It tells me that you’ve been talking to my mother. It’s God’s will. It’s in the cards….”

  “Got any better philosophies of life?”

  “No, but speaking of cards, I have one for you.”

  “Why? It’s not my birthday.”

  “Yeah, when is that?” Beth reached in a desk drawer. “January, right?”

  “April, but you were close.” Mindy stared at the envelope.

  “Well, open it already!” Beth ordered.

  “Stop being so bossy.” She slid her finger across the top and smiled at the charming photo of two little girls locked arm in arm, one a strawberry blonde, the other a dark-haired child.

  “This is how cards work.” Beth stood over her. “There’s an outside and an inside, often with a nice message.”

  Mindy rolled her eyes as she read the inscription: To my dearest friend, Mindy, who taught me this and more.

  Success by Ralph Waldo Emerson

  To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people

  and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics

  and endure the betrayal of false friends,

  to appreciate beauty,

  to find the best in others,

  to leave the world a bit better

  whether by a healthy child,

  a garden patch

  or a redeemed social condition,

  to know even one life

  has breathed easier

  because you have lived.

  This is to have succeeded.

  “Oh my God.” Mindy touched her heart. “I am so touched. It’s the most perfect poem.”

  “I thought you’d like it. It’s everything you’ve been trying to tell me…and everything I wanted to thank you for. I don’t know what I would have done without you these past few months. You literally saved my life.”

  “Stop. I’m just glad we finally became friends. And what an adventure it’s been!”

  “Yes! We almost died together.”

  “Not that!” Mindy laughed. “I mean discovering our family ties, getting into a business venture, and now making this huge move. The only reason I’m not scared is because I think it’s going to be a blast figuring everything out with you.”

  “Hope you’re right.”

  “I mean even the contest thing worked out okay.”

  “What are you talking about? It was a disaster.”

  “Yes, but look at how much we learned. We found out we made a great team and that we had real potential in this business. Who knows? Maybe one day we’ll start our own little greeting card company.”

  “I was actually thinking that,” Beth said. “Of course I’d have to be president.”

  “No, no. You’re razzle-dazzle, I’m management.”

  “Like hell! You don’t even have a business suit.”

  “And when would I wear it? When I’m burping your baby and changing poopy diapers?”

  “You’d do that? You’d come over and change poopy diapers?”

  “Hell, yes! I’ve put up with your shit, why wouldn’t I put up with your kid’s?”

  Richard was pumped! He’d found the house of Beth’s dreams and even though it was farther north than he wanted to travel, he was willing to add time to his commute because the development was perfect and the owner had been transferred, so the house was empty.

  “Did Artie look in the same development?” Beth asked.

  “No. I told you. They want to look in a lower price range.”

  “Then so will we. I’m not making this move unless we stick together.”

  “Beth, that’s ridiculous. We’re not talking about buying matching pocketbooks. Don’t you want to love the house?”

  “How can I love a house when I don’t know the neighbors? And don’t you think the girls would feel better if they were close to Stacie and Jamie? They’re all we’ve got.”

  “So you do
n’t even want me to put a bid on it?”

  “No. You need to find the house of my dreams that’s right next to the house of theirs.”

  “They’re not being all that picky. It’s crazy, but the only thing Artie asks about is if the house has a shed.”

  “Well, whatever. This is not negotiable.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Surprise!”

  Richard laughed but agreed to keep looking. “Maybe it’s best. Now that I think of it, there was one thing you wouldn’t have liked.”

  “The master suite was small?”

  “The couple next door was strange. Actually the husband seemed like a nice enough guy, but the wife was a piece of work. She made a face when I pulled up in the rental car, then she kept pumping me for information to make sure we were in their league. I thought she was going to ask me for a credit report and a tax return.”

  “Oh my God! Who would want to live next door to anyone that obnoxious?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s ask Mindy.”

  Epilogue

  On an unseasonably warm November morning, ten days before Jessica’s bat mitzvah, Beth went into labor, endured six miserable hours of pushing, then gave birth by Cesarean section to a beautiful, eight-pound, three-ounce baby boy, who was promptly dubbed Mushy-Tushie by his adoring older sisters.

  Richard thanked them for their suggestion but said that they had decided on a name that wouldn’t get the kid beaten up on the first day of school: Alexander Daniel.

  Quite by coincidence, down the hall, another mother was in labor, who though for the first time, did have one thing in common with Beth. She too had chosen Mindy Sherman as her birthing coach, never expecting that they would be needing her on the same day.

  Her name was Rainbow Everhardt, and in the few months that she had gotten to know her good friend Aaron’s stepmom, she felt a strong kinship to this wise and funny woman from New York who seemed to know everything about babies. And though Rainbow was being tended to by her mother and Aaron, who was suddenly too emotional to sing, it was Mindy’s hand she squeezed in the middle of her contractions while screaming for drugs.

  Later that night, Rainbow, also gave birth to a beautiful boy, though her mother asked her to hold off on naming him until they met with an elder from their tribal community, or a name was spiritually divined. But when it was time to fill out the birth certificate, Rainbow chose not to wait. Her son would be known as Takoda, friend to all, and though it was yet to be confirmed by DNA, the father would be listed as the deliriously happy eighteen-year-old Aaron Sherman.

  Eight days later, in the midst of final preparations for Jess’s bat mitzvah, the Diamonds braced themselves for the barrage of out-of-town guests expected to arrive early for Alex’s bris.

  Next door, in a house just as big and beautiful as the Diamonds, but with an extra upgrade, the shed of Artie’s dreams, the Shermans were operating a central command post, organizing airport transportation and hotel accommodations. Within a four-hour span they would be picking up Beth’s and Richard’s families, Stan and Rhoda, Mindy’s mom, Helene, and the indomitable Grandma Jenny.

  Though the elderly woman had not traveled by plane in nearly a decade, this was an occasion she would not miss, for in the months since reuniting with the former Ruchel Freund, she had been regaling everyone with stories and songs of her youth. Caregivers at the nursing home marveled at her increased mental capacity and rosier disposition, attributing the positive changes to Ruth’s daily visits.

  And no question, Jenny Baumann understood that she was traveling a far distance in order to witness the next generation of Jewish children carrying out the ancient traditions of circumcision and being called to the Torah. “A slep in the face to Hitler,” she repeated every step of the journey. “Thenk God I’m alife to see it.”

  But it wasn’t just people that the Shermans were transporting, it was mounds of delicacies that had been shipped from Bagel Boss in New York, for no Jewish celebration was complete without bagels, lox, whitefish salad, an assortment of cream cheeses, and fifty pounds of rugulah.

  It was the most festive bris the rabbi could recall, and certainly the only one where the celebrant was outfitted from head to toe in Nike apparel. “Between all the love in this room and these Nike sneakers, little Avraham Daniel here is certainly beginning life on the right foot.”

  But the rabbi’s joy did not end there, for that Saturday morning, she officiated at the b’nai mitzvah of her two newest students, Jessica and Aaron. Seems that the young man’s first order of business after reaching legal age was to both change his last name back to Sherman and to study Torah with the rabbi after school.

  Artie was in complete shock, given Aaron’s insistence that religion had no place in his life. But after having experienced a plane crash, Passover, and a huge payout from the insurance company all in the same week, he was suddenly willing to consider the possibility that there was a higher power that looked out for you.

  What didn’t come as a surprise to the Sherman family was that the father and grandfather of the bar mitzvah boy had to be asked several times to stop crying long enough for Aaron’s voice to be heard as he recited the blessings.

  At the reception in the social hall, Mindy pulled Beth aside for a quiet moment.

  “If I told you a year ago that we would be next-door neighbors living in Portland, Oregon, that we would be celebrating Jess’s bat mitzvah here, that you would be back with Richard and the proud parents of this adorable little boy, would you have believed me?”

  “Absolutely.” Beth kissed baby Alex’s head. “About as much as you would have believed it if I told you that you would be a grandmother.”

  “Good point.” Mindy laughed. “Although you know what’s even more unbelievable than that? That we ended up as best friends.”

  “You’re right. That I never would have believed!”

  “And what about your being back with Richard and so happy? Could you have seen that coming?”

  “Not in a million years.” Beth swallowed. “I forgot we could be so good together. He’s been wonderful to me. The move out here was the best thing that ever happened to us.”

  “Only one way to explain it,” Mindy said as she nuzzled Alex. “It had to be bashert. Oh look! He’s grabbing my finger. Such a smart boy you are.”

  “Of course he’s smart,” Beth beamed. “He’s my son.”

  “And my godson.” Mindy took him. “I think he wants us to dance.”

  “Be careful…he might spit up on you.”

  “It’s fine.” She twirled him. “I’ve always gone for guys who drool.”

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I please have your attention?” the DJ announced. Right now we’re going to dedicate a song to a very special guest. And to make the introduction, please give a warm welcome to a good friend of the Diamond family, Aaron Sherman.”

  “What’s going on?” Beth asked Mindy.

  “How should I know? It’s your party.”

  “Hey. How ya doin’?” Aaron adjusted the mike stand. “I’m Aaron. Just wanted to say mazel tov, Jessie. This is the most awesome bat mitzvah I’ve ever been to. Actually, it’s the only one I’ve ever been to, but you did an amazing job today. Almost as good as me! Anyway, for those of you who don’t know me, music has been like my whole life…really helped me get through some rough times…but you gotta have good people in your life, too, and there’s this one great lady I couldn’t have gotten by without. So I want to dedicate this next song to her for helping me see what I’m all about, what I can do with my life. Her name is Mindy, and believe it or not, she’s my new mom. Mindy, you’re the best! I’m never going to disappoint you. Hope you like this one from Boyz II Men. It’s called, “Song for Mama.”

  “Oh my God.” Mindy burst into tears and shook so that she frightened Alex, who wailed for his mother. “Oh no. Sorry sweetie…sorry. Here you go.” She handed him to Beth. “See? He only wants his mommy. They can’t live without us, not even
for a second.”

  “Hey, little man.” Beth swayed with him. “I’m here…you’re okay.”

  Aaron surprised Mindy with a tap on her shoulder. “So do you like wanna dance?”

  “Oh my God, yes!” She held out her hand. “You’ve made this such a great day for me. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I’m proud of me, too,” he laughed. “I hate talkin’ in front of lots of people.”

  “Well, you’d never know it. You were great. Artie! Over here! Get the photographer. Beth! Move closer. It’s mother and son’s first dance. I want to capture this moment forever!”

  “She is so damn bossy,” Beth said to Aaron.

  “I know,” he said, then shrugged, “but things didn’t start getting good until I listened to her.”

  “Same with me.” Beth kissed her son. “Same with me.”

  Acknowledgments

  Dear Readers,

  In previous books, I have thanked family, friends, and colleagues for their love, encouragement, and support. But enough about them. It’s time to acknowledge people that I may never meet but who mean the world to me—my readers. All ten of you. Oh fine, there are more, but according to my publisher, not as many as there need to be. More on that later.

  Meanwhile, I want you to know how much your e-mails and postings inspire me. Most are kindhearted and full of praise, but even the ones suggesting I would be better suited to selling panty hose at Macy’s are read and considered. With such busy lives, that anyone would take time to express their views on my books is a huge boost (disclaimer # 1: the really bitchy messages get printed and used to line the counter when I shuck corn).