Claire Voyant

by Saralee Rosenberg

  “It wasn’t a stupid golf outing. It was the tenth annual—Oh, what the hell is the difference? You want to stay angry? Be my guest. But this is such crap. We did everything we could to give you a good home, a good education, and this is the thanks we get! A list of bullshit accusations.”

  “Mr. Greene, please.” A nurse walked in. “I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voice. You’re disturbing the other patients.”

  “Fine!” He waved. “We were just leaving. I don’t need to stand around listening to my daughter, the ingrate—”

  “Lenny, wait. Where are you going?” my mother called after him.

  “Go on. Get out of here.” I shooed her. “I’m not coming with you.”

  “What do you mean? We’re going back to the hotel now. You have to come.”

  “Actually, I don’t. I’ll make other arrangements.”

  “What other arrangements? You have no place else to go.”

  “Sure I do. I can call Uncle Ben and Aunt Shari.” I sniffed. “I’m sure they’d be happy to let me stay with them for a while.”

  “Uncle Ben and Aunt Shari?”

  My father barreled back in. “Are you coming or not?”

  “Claire says she’s not coming with us. She’s going to call that Ben Fabrikant.”

  “Good idea. Then we won’t have to look at her anymore. Can we please get the hell out of here already?” He tapped his watch. “The meter…”

  Chapter 20

  THIRTY SECONDS AFTER TELLING MY PARENTS TO LEAVE WITHOUT ME, I panicked. Not because I feared a life without their supervision. Hell, I’d been making my own decisions since junior high. Not because I was about to become a working girl. (Damn! I forgot to ask Pablo if pantyhose was a requirement, because that would definitely be a deal-breaker.) Not even because I was afraid of starting my life over in, of all places, Miami Beach, aka God’s waiting room. No. What sent me into an emotional tailspin was that I couldn’t remember where I’d left my new clothes.

  Given my fragile neurological state, it hurt my head to think about things that had happened hours earlier, let alone an entire week ago. I had to close my eyes and force myself to focus. When was the last time I saw those three beautiful bags from Versace? Finally I remembered. Viktor had taken me to Drew’s so I could use the shower, which meant I must have brought the bags upstairs. That was the good news. The bad news was that I had no way to retrieve them. Or worse, that a spiteful Marly could have already returned them. How depressing that I might never get to zip those black silken trousers, or step into those luxuriously rich mules with the tiny silver buckles.

  Of course, if my father was right and Abe had left me a big, fat inheritance, money would be no object. But given how my luck was running, I’d probably get handed a check for a few grand, then watch the IRS chew it up and spit it out. All told, I’d end up with a few hundred in the bank. Hardly a life-altering amount.

  Who knew, when Viktor was busy yapping about tax breaks, that I’d ever have a reason to stand on a soapbox like him? But speaking of Viktor, maybe I could call and ask if he would be willing to get my things at Drew’s, bring them to the hospital, then take me to Ben and Shari’s.

  I felt bad about leaning on him so heavily, as he was neither my friend nor my employee. But what choice did I have? I was three thousand miles from anything resembling a support network, and now I was broke and homeless, which I would not have been if my parents hadn’t stormed out.

  Oh, fine. So maybe I’d been a bit hasty in insisting that they leave. But since when did they ever listen to me? Frankly, if they were as devoted as they claimed, they would have told me to stop talking nonsense and to go get my things so they could take me back to the hotel to rest.

  But now that wasn’t in the option column. Nor was using my room phone, as the line had already been disconnected. And with all the interference, my cell phone was out, too. My only choice was to trudge downstairs in my weakened condition, stand outside in Cancer Alley where the chain smokers congregated, call Viktor, and hope he’d be willing to be my knight in shining limo.

  “Not so fast, Miss Greene.” A nurse stopped me at the elevator. “You can’t be officially discharged unless you’re taken down in a wheelchair. Hospital rules.”

  “So, fine. I’ll go down in a wheelchair. By any chance, could I be wheeled to South Beach?”

  “There’s no one to take you home? Weren’t your folks just here a few minutes ago?”

  “Yes, but I had to fire them. On account of gross incompetence, negligence—”

  “You fired your parents?” She laughed. “Is that one of those California trends?”

  “I assure you it was a necessary step. The only ride they wanted to take me on was the one to the bank so they could steal my trust fund.”

  “Uh-huh. Okay. I have no idea what any of that means, but obviously you need to call someone. I can’t just leave you downstairs, dear. What about the rest of your family? The Fabrikants?”

  “Oh yeah. I was going to call…Uncle Ben.” I will never get used to saying that.

  “Well, given your condition, memory lapses are normal.”

  “Yes, but how do you explain my parents’ memory lapse?” I sighed. “For thirty years they forgot to mention a minor detail to me…. Could I please use your phone?”

  “Of course. Do you remember his number?”

  “Actually, I don’t even know his number.” I hesitated. “Or his address. In fact, I have no idea where the family lives, if they have room for me to stay…”

  “Do you want to tell me what’s going on here?” She eyed me. “I could call in Social Services, or have you speak to one of our patient advocates. They can do the impossible in situations—”

  “No! It won’t help! Believe me, they’ve never dealt with a situation like mine….”

  “Oh my. That is quite a story,” she said after I told her my sad tale. “Wasn’t there was a novel like that? Oh gosh. What was the name of that one?”

  “Trust me, the only way it was my story was if it was science fiction.”

  “You’re probably right.” She laughed. “So what will you do?”

  “I have no idea. For some stupid reason I accepted a job down here. But I have no place to live…. I was thinking of rooming with my grandmother in an assisted living center…that’s a good idea, right? She’ll follow me around Miami with plates of food. ‘Here, darling. Eat something. It’s been twenty minutes.’ And how could I live in a city where I have no friends? I mean, I’ve met a few people. This guy, Viktor, who is very nice, and Drew Fabrikant, of course. It just blows me away that my perfectly unfulfilled life could go even deeper into the toilet.”

  “Maybe it would help if you called your parents to apologize.” The nurse checked her watch. “I’m sure they would be happy to come back for you.”

  “Apologize?” I started to cry. “Are you serious? Apologize for what? I’m not the one who did anything wrong. They’re the ones who created this whole mess.”

  “Shhhh.” She ushered me back into my room. “Let’s not get ourselves worked up. Do you want to have a relapse?”

  “I’m sorry.” I sniffed. “This is so not like me. I never cry. Now I never stop.”

  “Well, look, dear. Maybe it’s good that everything is out in the open now. You’ll get counseling, make a fresh start. It’s not the end of the world, you know…. Your mother seems like a lovely person. Your father’s a bit high-strung, but you weren’t abused or neglected. Believe me, I could tell you stories about foster children that would shock you.”

  “I know it could have been worse. But I don’t even recognize my life anymore. I look at my parents, and the first thing that pops into my head is that they’re frauds.”

  “You just need to give it more time.”

  “Everyone keeps saying that, but it’s not going to matter whether it’s next week or next year. I’m always going to hate them for what they did.”

  “Why don’t you let me arrange for yo
u to talk with one of the therapists?”

  “What for? They’re the ones who are crazy…I’m just trying to defend myself against a bunch of hypocrites. Do you know that I once got grounded for a month because I lied about where I spent the night? Meanwhile, they were lying to me about something far more horrible! They were the ones who should have been grounded!”

  “I’m sure they thought they were doing right by you.”

  “Nope. Not part of their MO. They did what was right for them. It was a lot less messy than having to tell me the truth and take the chance I’d treat them differently.”

  “Would you have?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.”

  “Then don’t be so hard on them. They were just acting on instinct. Believe me, as a mother, I can tell you that my husband and I constantly questioned our decisions. Were we too easy on the kids, too hard, should we have pushed them more in school, made them pay for their mistakes? There’s no manual for this. Parents have no idea how they’ll handle a situation until the damn thing is staring them in the face…. Not that I agree with what your folks did. I would have done things differently, but gosh, maybe I wouldn’t have. It’s so hard to say.”

  “Yes, but how do you rationalize letting your child believe in something that’s a total fabrication?” I cried. “It’s like hoping they never learn the truth about Santa Claus, even though you know the day will come when they’re gonna find out and have to deal with the disappointment.”

  “That’s my point, dear. You found out the truth later than you would have liked, but at least now you’re an adult. You’ll be better able to cope with this.”

  “No, I won’t. It’s too late. All I understand is that my freakin’ life has been turned into an asterisk, like a Sammy Sosa stat. He may have hit sixty-six home runs one year, but underneath in small print it’s going to say, In 2003, his bat was found to be corked. So is he still a Hall of Fame slugger, or a major league cheater who should be kicked out of the game? My so-called parents raised me as their own, but underneath in small print it’s going to say, Thirty years later, Claire Greene was found not to be their biological child. Don’t you see? The truth changes everything.”

  “Not everything, dear. It’s obvious they love you, no matter how you came into their lives.”

  “I’m not saying they don’t have feelings for me. But right now I feel like I’m operating in this alternate universe. I look at my parents, and I think, don’t go with strangers. I’m the same person I was last week, but my whole identity has been changed, like I was put into the Witness Protection Program. I have more family than ever, but I’ve never felt more alone. I mean, maybe at some point I’ll be able to make sense of all this, but right now I am so sad, scared, angry, anxious, hurt…and do you know what else? I can’t find my clothes!”

  “I think you’ll be fine.” She patted me. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll get help. Now let’s go see about your clothes. Were they in your room?”

  “No, actually. I lost track of them before I got here.”

  “Miss Claire, there you are. What hez heppened to you?”

  “Oh my God.” I turned around. “Viktor?”

  “I just saw yur parents drive off, but yur face—it was not in thi car.”

  “I have never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life.” I hugged him.

  “Looks like your ride is here.” The nurse cupped my chin. “You take good care of yourself, dear. You’ll be in my thoughts.”

  “Thank you so much for listening.”

  “It costs nothing…. Take care of her,” she instructed Viktor. “She’s marked fragile.”

  “I am so glad you’re here.” I wiped my eyes. “Why are you here?”

  “This I ken’t tell you because it was the oddest thing. I’m driving beck home after taking Drew and Marly to the airport…so much traffic you wouldn’t believe—”

  “Whoa. What do you mean, you took them to the airport? Where did they go?”

  “No one told you? They fly to Bermuda to talk about their problems.”

  “Are you serious? They left the country? I can’t believe they’re actually going to try to get back together.”

  “I tell you thi whole family is crezy, em I right? Enyway, on the way beck from thi airport, I get idea in my head that sez, go to thi hospital.”

  “You mean you weren’t planning to come here?”

  “End now you are so heppy to see me, em I right?”

  “Yes, yes. You’re right…. What do you think it was? A feeling? A voice in your head?”

  Viktor pursed his lips. “More like eh voice in my head.”

  “Oh my God. I bet it was Abe. I bet he was communicating with you.”

  “No. Sorry.” Viktor howled. “I trick you, Miss Claire. There was no voice.”

  “What?”

  “Ben called me in the car and said go get Claire.”

  “Really? But how did he know I—”

  “Thet I ken’t tell you. Maybe Abe called him instead of me.”

  “Very funny.” I smacked his shoulder. “So where are you taking me?”

  “Anywhere you like. To your grendmother’z place? To thi hotel for your parents?”

  “No. No. I can’t go there…. Viktor, I’ve made a mess of things. I don’t have anywhere to go. Do you think…I was wondering…would I be welcome at Ben’s house?”

  “They have plenty room, off course. But maybe you would like my mother’s house. It’s no kestle, but there’s spare bed in the basement from when my Uncle Vladimir was alive.”

  Perfect. I’d love to sleep with a ghost and some mice. “I appreciate the offer, Viktor. But you know what? Maybe I should just go back to California. I miss it so much, all my friends are there, my favorite beaches, the sushi, the Tae-Bo classes on every corner. I can’t believe I ever left…. I would be so grateful if you took me to the airport.”

  “But in yur condition, ken you be flying?”

  “Of course. It’s not like I’ll be needed in the copilot’s seat. Please, Viktor. I really want to go home. I’ve been through so much. I just want to feel connected again…. I miss the girls with purple hair named Breeze. I miss knowing which restaurants serve the freshest arugula. I miss that when you walk into a Starbucks, the cute guy in the Dodgers cap who looks like John Cusack IS John Cusack.”

  “Fine. Viktor ken take you…it’s just that we would all be very sed to see Miss Claire go.”

  “Thank you.” I kissed his cheek. “I’ll miss you, too. But I promise I’ll come back to visit. See how my grandmother is doing in Abe’s place.”

  “End maybe you come back for Drew and Marly’s wedding, em I right?”

  “Absolutely.” Over my dead body. “Oh wait, wait, wait. There is one thing before we go. You know those clothes from Versace that Marly picked out for me? I left them at Drew’s. Do you think we could stop there first, and then go to the airport?”

  “Oh. Uh-huh. No. Because there’s something I must tell you, princess. Thi bags? They are in my trunk. I was supposed to return them, but I forget.”

  “Return them?” I gasped. “No way. Why?” Let me guess.

  “If you esk me, it is not right. But Marly said to take it all beck since you didn’t need thi clothes for the funeral. But I’m thinking to myself, a gift is a gift.”

  “Exactly. A gift is a gift. Oh God. Please don’t return them, Viktor. They are the most exquisite clothes I’ve ever come close to owning.”

  “So maybe I should hev talk with Ben? She did not pay, why should she say?”

  “Yes, exactly!” I clapped. “C’mon. Let’s go downstairs and call Uncle Ben.”

  But before I could figure out that a call to him would set off a chain reaction of questions about my plans that I did not want to answer, Viktor was speed dialing. And although I couldn’t make out the conversation on the other end, I could see from his expression that it wasn’t going well.

  Yeesh. I was probably coming off as this selfi
sh little brat who thought that I was entitled to lavish gifts for no reason at all. Which I did. But still, I didn’t want this to be Ben’s last impression of me before I flew home. Especially since he had already been so generous.

  “He hez to speak to you.” Viktor handed me his cell. “He is not heppy.”

  Shit! “Hi, Ben…Uncle Ben. Look, I’m very sorry. You’re right, of course. The clothes should go right back. They were bought with a specific purpose in mind, and—”

  “Thet’s not it,” Viktor whispered.

  “What?” I said to Ben.

  “Oh right. The meeting on Monday with the lawyer. I swear, the way my mind is working, or not working, I’d already forgotten about it. But wait. How do you know about that meeting?”

  “Oh…. Uh-huh…. No. To be honest, I have no idea what an executor of the estate does…. Really? So wait. You’ll be there, too?…Um, no. My parents aren’t coming…long story…basically I’m not speaking to them…. Actually, no. I don’t have a place to stay…. Are you sure?…Thank you. That is such a generous offer…. Yes, they just discharged me…. Okay, I’ll ask Viktor to bring me over. Oh, and about those clothes?…Are you sure?…Thank you, thank you, thank you…. He says I can keep them because I’m staying for a few more days,” I whispered to Viktor. “Oh…uh-huh. No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that…. Okay, well, not to worry. I know how to handle it. It’s very California…. See you in a few.”

  “He told you?” Viktor asked.

  “Yes. And I feel terrible. Is that why you didn’t want me to stay there?”

  “It’s not too good, thi marriage. He goes beck and forth between condo and house. But now, less beck than forth.”

  “So wait. Is he living there at all?”

  “Not so much, no. He wouldn’t get divorce while Abe was alive, but now, I’m sure yes.”

  “Oh yuck. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Shari might not want me around.”