Lucky 13

by Cat Gardiner

  From the moment she had entered the toy store, greeted by the two doormen dressed as wooden soldiers, she could hardly suppress the internal giggling threatening to erupt. White cardboard snowflakes hung from the ceiling. Tall displays of cuddly teddy bears and comfy stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes greeted her. All the while, delightful whimsical music underscored the excited shouts of children and the crowds of curious shoppers within the two-story iconic wonderland. She had walked in a dream-like state, finding her way to the Big Piano where two sales associates put on a music concert, hopping and skipped to “Carol of the Bells.” As though a child, she wanted to stay and clap along but, realizing the time, began her quest for tree ornaments.

  Now, waiting for Georgiana, Elizabeth looked at the red shopping bag sitting on the windowsill. After Sunday’s trip home followed by Monday’s awkwardness with Mr. December, it was time to press her reset button. She was excited to get to the office to decorate the tree with her happy findings and renewed spirit.

  John was a welcome distraction, but being an atheist, he wasn’t into the holiday scene, and she wondered why he came home at this time of the year. He didn’t buy into any belief, reason, or theme of ‘the most wonderful time of the year’, nor did she think he considered the holidays as a time for family and friends and spreading cheer and good will. Ah, never mind, what did it matter the reason he came home to New York. He was here and he was taking her out somewhere special on Sunday night. He was safe, familiar and had once been a childhood friend, before he became her boyfriend.

  Georgiana entered the café wearing a trendy, puffy down jacket and Ugg boots. Her long, blonde hair flowed over her shoulders in wind-blown waves as though she just stepped off the cover of Glamour magazine. She waved excitedly. “Liz!”

  Standing, Elizabeth greeted her new friend with a hug and air kiss, as if they were long-lost friends. “Hi Georgie. Thanks so much for meeting me here.”

  “Hey, no prob. I only live on Central Park South. It wasn’t far at all, and as I said, I have tons of shopping to do at Henri Bendel and Bergdorf’s. The windows at Bendels are amazing this year.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to window shop yet. That’s great that you’ve seized the opportunity. Don’t you have classes today?”

  “Mid-term week. I should be home practicing, but I need to pick up a particular scarf I saw for my brother. You know how it is – you snooze, you lose. He had admired it and for a guy who has everything, not to mention very picky, I figured I should jump on it before it’s gone.”

  They took seats at a table beside the window. “Smart woman. Although my lists are completed by October, I’m always last minute with execution, just so much going on at the agency. It’s hard to find the time. What do you practice for school?”

  “The cello. My dream is to play for the Philharmonic, if not, then I’ll be happy with the MET Orchestra, but both are really competitive to get into, positions rarely come available. You have to be the best with a solid resume. I only hope I’m good enough to at least get in for a live preliminary audition.”

  “Wow, impressive! I’d love to hear you play sometime. How long have you been playing?”

  “Forever. Maybe since I was about seven. I guess it seemed only natural to my parents that I get involved in something musical at an early age. My mother was an opera singer and also played the guitar as a sort of opposite study. Before she met my dad, she trained at the Brooklyn Academy of Music when she was my age. My brother can play three instruments, but only focuses on the guitar and sings. For a while, he had a nightclub gig down in the Village but quit that years ago. He does other things with his time now. Sorry… you just asked a simple question and I gave you like my total history.”

  “Don’t be sorry, you’re family sounds wonderful. What about your dad is he musically inclined, too?”

  “He just goofed around on the piano. Hey … shall we order?”

  “Absolutely, I’m starved.”

  The women ordered and carried their lunches back to the still available table. Elizabeth’s unappealing salad stared back at her, her stomach growling as she coveted Georgiana’s thick pastrami sandwich. Nevertheless, after the indulgence of the hot cocoa, she wasn’t about to go off the deep end altogether.

  Georgiana looked like the cat that swallowed the canary as she chewed and launched her investigation with a mouthful. “So, have you ever been married?”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “Not even close.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  “No to that as well. You?”

  “Sadly single but actively looking. What about you? Are you looking? I know you’re not gay. Are you happily single?”

  “Looking, definitely looking, but not for anything serious. Funny you should talk about sexual orientation. Half the city thinks I am gay, due to a BIG misunderstanding.”

  “Half?”

  Elizabeth snorted. “Well not half, but probably most single professionals.”

  “That sounds like a story worth hearing.”

  “Maybe on our second date, girlfriend.” A playful wink followed.

  “I’ll hold you to it.”

  “My dating history of late is actually kind of funny. I’ve embarked on a holiday dating-spree in the hopes of finding a special guy to bring to Christmas dinner at my parents, and hopefully, if they don’t scare him off, then I’ll invite him to my sister’s wedding on New Year’s Eve.”

  “That sounds like it could either be fun or a nightmare. I once went on a blind date with a guy my aunt set me up with. I’ll never do that again. I know I said I don’t keep a list, but men shorter than five–five are out of the question for me.”

  “Sweetie, I had a blind date this past Sunday that my mother set me up with. Not five-five but was missing a few teeth and drove a car he named “The Love Machine.” You want to talk scary, and not the poor guy whom, like me, is just trying to find someone but my mother playing matchmaker. She’s merciless. She has no idea who would be best suited to me, nor does she care to ask.”

  “So this dating experience has been really bad, huh?”

  Elizabeth foraged through her handbag, pulling out a small pad and her Santa pencil. Thumbing through page after page of lists, she finally tore out a blank sheet. “Here, if you want a laugh, check out my blog. I’m writing about my exploits in Christmas dating. Not Pulitzer winning stuff, but fun. My best friend Charlotte is my event coordinator. She occasionally blogs and I’ve promised not to read her posts. So who knows what the heck she’s saying? The blog is called, “All I Want for Christmas.”

  “Clever, I’ll definitely check it out. Do you write about each date you go on?”

  “Yes and each place in New York City where I go to experience the “dating scene.” For example, tomorrow Charlotte is taking me to a professional matchmaker down on the Lower East Side.”

  “A matchmaker? Wow, you really are getting into the dating spirit aren’t you?”

  “I’m trying. I don’t want to leave any dating venue unexplored. I’m determined to embrace every matchmaking avenue with an open mind.”

  “Cool.” Georgiana leaned inquisitively toward the table on both elbows. “So, tell me … did you blog about that firefighter and his audition seduction attempt, too?”

  Elizabeth leaned her forehead into her palm. “Oh God, that guy seems to be in almost every post. With each encounter, and believe me there have been a few, his name changes to protect his innocence – or rather not such innocence. I wish he didn’t give me so much material to write about, but it can’t be helped, really. Not only was he present at a business meeting, but also showed up at a speed dating event I attended. I even spotted him at my gym yesterday, and trust me, I’d know if he was a member. I’ve never seen him there before. It’s as though that firefighter is deliberately tormenting me.”

  “But he’s gorgeous. You should date him. Clearly, if he keeps crossing your path, it’s fate. Maybe he’s the one – he could be the one – your destiny.”r />
  “No, you don’t understand. He’s not the one, and I seriously doubt Mr. December is my fate. He’s arrogant, and so full of himself, and I’m sure he’s not interested in me. I’m positive I have nothing in common with him. We’re completely opposite. I tend to like my men with a little more humility, a down to earth type of guy, who’ll give someone the shirt off his back without expecting anything in return.”

  “Mr. December? That’s a funny moniker. Shame, though that you’ve ruled him out. He has a great singing voice.”

  Georgiana felt bad about Elizabeth’s wrongful assessment of her brother. No matter, she’d work hard at getting her to change her opinion. “Ok, we’ll forget about Mr. December because I think you’d like my brother. He’s just the type of guy you’re looking for, and he’s handsome, talented and knows how to treat a woman. Right now, he’s single but like you, looking for someone to spend the holidays with.”

  “Hmm … maybe. I wouldn’t discount meeting him, but judging by my failed record and bad luck in blind dating, I’ll have to think it over. What does he do for a living?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No, just curious. It’s just that some men are intimidated by successful women and I wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable.”

  “He’s … um … self-employed, spends his day putting out fires of all kinds.”

  “I can understand that. Companies are certainly trying to maintain a competitive edge and, given the sluggish economy, struggling to keep everything from going to ashes around their business. Dousing out potential problems is tough to get a handle on. I see it with my clients all the time, managing one fire after another, always looking over their shoulder for the one that’ll eventually burn down the house. It’s exhausting for small businesses because smoke usually begets flame. They try to stay a step ahead with hot advertising campaigns, hoping to put out the fire of bankruptcy before it gets stoked. That’s where BADCo comes in. We’re like the fully charged idea hose. We try to get the most explosive results. Sort of like the FD Burn Foundation’s campaign.”

  Georgiana wanted to giggle. She felt so naughty misleading Elizabeth, but damn if the woman didn’t jump all over that fire lingo perfectly. “Yeah, my brother is always on high alert, particularly during the holiday season. Lately, it seems as though one particular spitfire has been his undoing. I think you and he would get along really well, maybe collaborate – see if there is some spark to ignite. Did I mention he can dance?” Bad Georgie!

  Elizabeth trusted her new friend. She seemed earnest and enthusiastic, certainly a good sister who wanted to see her brother happy. If Georgiana was any indication of family values, she would go out with her brother. “Dance? Wow, I’ve yet to meet a guy – well other than Mr. December – who has rhythm. Okay, you have my number. See if he’s interested and maybe we can plan something.”

  “I definitely will, Liz. I have a good feeling about my matchmaking capabilities.”

  Charlie, admiring the cut of his new custom- made tuxedo, stood centered before the three-way mirror in ultra-modern Giorgio Armani on Fifth Avenue. The suit fit him perfectly, draping his slender, athletic frame as though he was a runway model. “Love this cut, Alfredo. Can we adjust the break a bit? I like a half break, the full is a bit sloppy for my taste. Otherwise, you did an excellent job.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bingley. When is the lucky day?” the tailor inquired.

  “New Year’s Eve,” Charlie beamed, his brilliant, white smile sparkling.

  As Alfredo knelt to chalk the pant leg, Charlie looked over to his best friend beside him, examining his own new tuxedo. “How does yours fit, Darce?”

  “Just some minor adjustments needed. Otherwise, I’m very pleased, worth the money.”

  Resting on the end table beside him, Darcy’s phone buzzed an incoming text. Smiling, he read Georgiana’s message, “LOVE HER! Got blog. I am supreme matchmaker! L8r.” He thought, Game on, Elizabeth.

  As if Charlie could read the message, he prophetically asked, “Have you made a decision about bringing a date to the wedding? Jane’s been bugging me because she has to notify the caterer.”

  “Is it okay if I let you know on Saturday? I’m … um … working on it.”

  “With that beautiful woman on the news Monday night?”

  “I was on the news with Elizabeth?”

  “Sure, on ABC at eleven with Candy Moore. A dark-haired beauty in a red skirt was greasing you up and well, the expression on your face seemed to say you were hoping for a pole dance – you being the greased pole.”

  Darcy sat in the leather art deco chair, cradling his forehead in his hand. “I had no idea they filmed that. Elizabeth must be livid. Damn, I just can’t seem to get a break with her.”

  “Boy, I must be really out of it with all the traveling and the wedding plans. I didn’t even know you were doing a calendar for the Foundation’s fundraiser, let alone modeling for it for the fire department, and now I find out you’re in hot pursuit of someone. This is like a monumental December for you.”

  “You have no idea. All of it came about quickly. Rick put it together with the ad company just last week and he suckered me into it. He’s determined to keep me alcohol free this month, instead filling me with Christmas spirit. He thinks I spend too much time at the firehouse, allowing myself to become too obsessed and depressed this time of year.”

  Charlie feigned shock, replying sarcastically, “You? Nah!”

  “Ha. Ha. Sorry I’ve been so out of touch the last couple of months. It’s just … well, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about it. Truth be told, Jane has taken me off the circuit as well. Things’ll settle down for all of us next year. I have a really good feeling about next year.”

  Alfredo motioned to Darcy to stand before the mirrors so he could chalk Darcy’s jacket shoulders and waist.

  “I’m happy for you. I’m glad you finally gave up your delusional dreams of remaining a bachelor and found the right girl – someone who’s not afraid of your family.” Darcy couldn’t help joking, because in truth, Charlie was the only normal member of the Bingley family. His parents were eccentric, and his sister was downright off the wall batty.

  “You’ll love Jane when you meet her, Darce. Everyone does. She goes with the flow. When I took her to meet my parents, she wore cowboy boots and an Aggie t-shirt and that was all they needed to see. She actually told my father that she loved the elk’s head hanging in the foyer. After that, he was putty in her hands, and I didn’t once hear the words ‘bless your heart’ from my mother. So that was a damn good sign, too. As for Caroline, Jane just placates her with a sample designer handbag now and then. You know how Caro is. She thinks she’s now an A-Lister because her future sister-in-law is a supermodel.”

  “How is Caroline? Still living with your parents?”

  “Of course. Dad wants to send her down to the ranch in Texas but she’ll never give up that Park Avenue address, unless she can trade it for your Central Park South penthouse.”

  Darcy looked over to where his friend stood at the tie rack fingering the fine silks. “Over my dead body. Is she finally working? Doing anything with her life, any kind of charity or something worthwhile? A Christmas cause?”

  Charlie emitted a sardonic snort. “She’s become a designer dog matchmaker.”

  “A what?”

  “You heard me. She matches freaky little hybrid dogs with socialites who need doggy arm candy. Her claim to fame is a dog match made with a former reality TV bachelorette, Vienna something like the sausage. She matched her with a shorkie or a morkie – I don’t know. They’re all Frankenstein dogs if you ask me. Dad just shakes his head and in his subtle drawl says, “That girl’s a-plumb loco.”

  “Sorry Charlie, but I agree. Your sister is – unique.”

  “Yeah, you gotta love my Jane for marrying into the Bingley family, but truth is her family is insane. They make mine look downright normal in comparison. Her mother is obsessed with crafts
and has this fixation with Binaca mouth spray. I swear, at Thanksgiving I’m pretty sure she sprayed it on top of the candied yams, but I’d be damned to say anything. Once you’re in Frances’s line of fire, you’re screwed. That’s why Jane’s father stays silent. That man has been pussy-whipped for thirty years.”

  Darcy laughed. “That’s pretty funny. You know what they say, women age like their mother.”

  “Don’t I know it! Caroline is the prime example. I actually had second thoughts when I met Jane’s mother, but the woman means well and just wants the best for her family - well with the exception of one of the sisters, I think. But Frances has five daughters; that’s enough to put any mother on pins and needles.

  “And speaking of Jane, she’d like to meet you before the wedding rehearsal. Would you like to come for dinner next Tuesday the seventeenth? She’s an excellent cook, so your snobbish gourmet palette won’t be too offended.”

  “I don’t think I’m working that night, so it sounds like a plan. I’ll bring the wine.”

  “Great, she’ll be so happy!” and hopefully Lizzy as well. “It’s good to spend today with you, Darce. I’ve missed you the last couple of months.”

  “Same here. Let’s get out of these tuxedos and head upstairs for a bite to eat.”

  Liz’s Blog Post Here

  Chapter Twelve – Thursday, December 12

  13 Days Until Christmas

  *see glossary below

  Even in the dead of winter, the Lower East Side of Manhattan was busy. Once one of the largest Jewish communities of New York City, it still boasted some of the best eateries, specialty shops, and historical landmarks in downtown. Only now Jewish heritage collided with the encroaching Chinatown and urban eclectic lifestyles. Old world, rich history, and Jewish culture struggled to maintain its place in the landscape of the ever-changing Manhattan.

  Elizabeth and Charlotte tucked deep into their coats while they walked up Clinton Street toward their big appointment. Passing by the Chinese restaurant, situated beside the kosher butcher shop on one side and liquor store on the other, Elizabeth chuckled at the decorative Christmas lights in the window. They reminded her of an all-time favorite holiday movie A Christmas Story. Even down in the ethnic Lower East Side, she could still feel the Christmas spirit, in contrast to her mother’s overly decorated home where she felt so far removed from the joys of the season.