“Oh God. Is that tomorrow?”
“All day.”
“Should I send flowers?”
“No. She just wants to know you’re okay and that you don’t hate her.”
“I don’t hate her. Not that I don’t have my issues with her. But I guess I did sort of go a little overboard.”
“A little overboard? Jesus, Claire. The only thing you didn’t accuse her of was trying to steal your boyfriends.”
“Hmmm. I always thought she had her eye on the biker guy,” I laughed. “Anyway, I promise I’ll call and apologize.”
“I’m sure she’d love to hear it…. And as for the other mother, if you could even call her that—”
“Oh my God, I still can’t get over the fact that she hung up on me. Who hangs up on her only child?”
“I think you should go out there and talk to her,” he said.
“What?”
“Yeah. Tell her how you feel. Lord knows you’ve got a big enough mouth. You shouldn’t have a hard time figuring out what you want to say.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? You’re never going to get better until you do, and it’s not as if you need her for anything. You already have a mother.”
“I don’t know, it would just be too weird.”
“Well, don’t not do it because you think we’d be upset. We’re not threatened by the old coward. I just think if you don’t go duke things out with her now, it’ll eat you up inside forever.”
“I guess…. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about what I’d say to her.”
“Exactly.”
“But it’s so obvious she doesn’t want to talk to me. What am I supposed to do, camp out at her front door and hope she lets me in?”
“I bet Ben could set something up for you. He seems like a pretty decent guy.”
“He is. But what are you saying? I should ask him to make an appointment for me so I could speak to my own mother?”
“Not an appointment. I don’t know, tell her you want to meet for a drink. Keep it casual.”
“I can’t believe you’re telling me to do this, especially after you walloped her in the face.”
“Oh…didn’t know if you knew about that little episode.”
“Yeah. I heard. Anyway, I couldn’t go out there right now. I don’t have enough money for cab fare, let alone airfare.”
“I figured as much…. But what the hell? Consider it a peace offering. It’s the least I could do…and JetBlue flies to Long Beach now.”
“You really love that airline, don’t you?”
“If they don’t go, I don’t go…but no, really. Look into making a reservation…. And as for your meeting with the lawyers on Monday—”
“Okay, now, that I am definitely sorry about. I promise you, whatever I get, I’m sharing with you and Mommy.”
“That’s lovely, dear, thank you. But here’s something you don’t hear the old man say every day. You were right. It’s not our money, it’s yours. If you want my advice on investing or whatever, fine—”
“Thanks…but do you think…would you…is there any chance you could come in?”
“For what? The meeting on Monday?”
“Yes.”
“No. Can’t. I’ve got a full day already. But it’s at a lawyer’s office. Just have them put me on speaker phone before you get started. It’ll be like I’m right there.”
“I guess that works…. And I meant what I said before. I have no idea how much I’m getting, but consider it family money.”
“Well, that’s very sweet of you, dear, but let’s find out how much you’ll owe Uncle Sam before you start handing out checks.”
“Thanks, Daddy…for everything. I do love you and Mommy.”
“We know.”
“And I appreciate all of your advice.”
“It’s my job.”
“Except there is one thing I can’t do.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to be able to stay away from Drew. In fact, right now all I can think about is shtupping his little brains out.”
“Good God, Claire. I’m your father…show some respect.”
“Sorry.”
“And at least promise to use protection. Nothing’s worse than being second in line for child support.”
I was glad to hear Gram’s key in the door. I couldn’t wait to tell her about the nice conversation with my Dad, and that things looked like they might be okay after all. But when she walked in, she was so pleased with her afternoon adventure, it was as if she’d forgotten I was there.
Mind you, I was thrilled that she was finally enjoying herself. I was just surprised how little she cared about hanging with me. Gabbing like old times. Feeding me until I wanted to puke. Instead, she announced a change of plans. She was meeting friends for supper, then they were going over to the clubhouse to hear a comedian.
“He used to play up at Grossingers,” she informed me. “Want to come?”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll just…” But I couldn’t think fast enough to finish my sentence.
“Whatsa matter?”
“Nothing. I think I’ll call Drew, and see what he’s up to.”
“So now you’re friends with Abe’s grandson?”
“Yes. He’s been very nice to me.”
“Well, if you ask me, I think he’s sweet on you.”
“You do?”
“Sure. I seen the way he looks at you…not like he looks at that meshugina he’s marrying.”
“Maybe not. They’re sort of an on again, off again couple.”
“Smart kid…. ’Cause if you ask me, she could use a good zetz across that little heiny of hers.”
“I know…but, um…what would you think about Drew and me?”
Grams stopped fussing with her hair in the mirror.
“I mean, nothing has happened yet, of course.” Except for one hot shower. And I do mean hot!
“They got laws against that sort of thing, you know.”
Taking a shower together? “Oh, you mean the cousin connection. But it’s not like that, Grams. We’re not blood relatives. Drew is actually Ben’s adopted son, so it’s okay.”
“You really like this fella.” Her hips swayed.
I nodded.
“So whadaya think is going to happen?”
“I wish I knew. Things are pretty complicated.”
“Too bad we’re not in the old neighborhood no more. There was a fella we would go to…he had special powers, see.”
“Are you serious, Grams? You went to a psychic?”
“Course not. The sons-of-bitches take your money and give you nothin’ but cock-and-bull stories. And how come, if they’re so smart, you don’t hear about them winnin’ the lottery? But this fella, he wasn’t like that. He owned a coffee shop. And in between customers, he’d tell us things.”
“Oh my God…not the one on 188th?”
“Yeah. You know the place?”
“I’m not sure. Is it a Greek restaurant with flies…what was the name of it?”
“House of Athens,” Grams said.
“Yeah. That was it. Oh my God. I can’t believe it, I just happened to walk in there the afternoon I got out of the hospital the first time. I ordered lunch, and the owner comes up to me and says something about the food being only so-so, but the predictions, they’re the best.”
“That’s him! Oy. I hope this don’t mean he’s getting famous, ’cause he always said as soon as he got famous, he’d have to start to charging.”
“This is unbelievable. I remember now. He asked me if I believed in love at first sight, because he said he could tell that I was in love but didn’t want to admit it.”
“Well, whadaya know!”
“Amazing…. I was falling in love with Drew. I just couldn’t admit it…. Poor man, I basically told him to go back to making his moussaka because he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.”
“Uch. Too bad you ca
n’t go back there now. See what else he sees. God forbid, maybe a baby already. ’Cause I don’t have to tell you you’re not getting any younger.”
“Oh yeah. There’s definitely a baby in the future…it’s just not mine.”
A half hour later, Grams took off again to meet up with friends. This from someone who used to complain that her back went out more than she did. Now her social calendar was busier than mine.
I looked at the clock again. Six-fifteen, and no word from Drew. I stopped my world for him. The least he could do is call. Yes, I’d told him I wanted to stay here for the night. But still. For a guy who’d just had his hands all over my naked body, and then shared some mighty huge secrets, you’d think he could at least pick up the phone to say hi.
This was why I hated the start of relationships. I never knew where I stood. What was expected. If initiating something was thoughtful or pushing it. And if he didn’t call me, what did it mean? Was he legitimately busy or legitimately avoiding me?
And it’s not as if I didn’t understand the line of work that Drew and his family were in. They owned nightclubs, for God’s sake. And not just any clubs. The hottest clubs in all of south Florida. Maybe the entire goddamn Western Hemisphere.
So it wasn’t like when Drew said he had work to do in the office, I expected him to be hanging out at the water cooler taking bets on who’d be the next survivor to be voted off the island. Of course his job description included schmoozing, drinking, and flirting. Anything to keep the party going and the shot girls flush with twenties in their hot pants.
And it’s not like, when he finally answered his cell, I expected to hear the sound of clicking keyboards coming from the secretarial pool. Good thing, because I wasn’t the least bit thrown when it sounded like a large, raucous party. “Hi. How are you?”
“Great,” he yelled over the din. “You?”
I’m sorry. Was this the same man who only hours earlier was mourning the loss of his grandfather? Who professed his prurient desire to be with me, rather than his ex-fiancée who might very well be the mother of his first child?
“I’m fine,” I replied. “I just wanted to see how you were holding up.”
“What?”
“I was thinking about you.” I spoke in my crowded-bar voice.
“I can’t hear you, Carly, honey. Call me back tonight.”
CARLY? Who was Carly?
“Nicole,” he hollered. “Check it out. Dooley’s hot for you. Look at him. He’s licking your leg.”
“I gotta go.” I ended the call.
As if that snippet of conversation weren’t enough of a mood crapper, I realized that it was six-thirty on a Saturday night and I was sitting by myself in an assisted living center. But not to worry. This could still be my lucky night. Maybe I’d find a hot game of bingo going on, and beat the pants of the old folks who could neither see nor hear. How hard could it be to win enough money to cover the cost of a cab to Miami International?
An alluring thought, if not for one small matter. I didn’t want to leave town yet. Certainly not before my meeting with Abe’s attorney on Monday, which offered the potential for better winnings than a decent night of bingo. But mostly not before getting to tell Drew thanks, but no thanks. I thought he was great, but I didn’t have the stomach to get involved with a guy who got in trouble if he didn’t drink on the job. To say nothing of a guy who was about to become a father to a baby with whom he might not have a biological link. I’d already seen that movie. “Taxi!”
But rather than chickening out, I toughed it out. If you could call getting a pedicure on a Saturday night toughing it out.
After I had hung up on or with Drew, depending on how you saw it, I invited my one and only friend in town, Viktor, to have dinner. In an act of cunning, I suggested the Greek coffee shop where he’d once come to get me. But you know as well as I, it had nothing to do with the grape leaves. More like the tea leaves. I was desperate to find out from the owner if there was any hope for my future.
Unfortunately for me, Viktor was enjoying his rare night off with friends. And not that I begrudged the man a life. I was just a teensy bit hurt that he intimated that his dealings with me were strictly job-related. Apparently I’d confused the friendly bond we’d forged with his being nice in exchange for a paycheck.
He did, however, remember to tell me that Delia and her mother were worried about me, and that I should call to let them know I was fine. Which is how I ended up soaking my feet in hot bubbles on a Saturday night. Seems that they, too, were alone with nothing to do.
“I know this great Korean nail salon that stays open late every night,” Delia said. “Want to go get pedicures?”
“A pedicure?” I cheered like a three-year-old who just got invited to the circus.
“You don’t have to have an orgasm over it. It’s not that exciting.”
“It is to me,” I said. “I haven’t done something that normal in ages. I just can’t believe you and your mom want to do this. It’s Saturday night.”
“Down here every night is Saturday night. Well, actually, Monday and Tuesday night are more like Thursday night. Wednesday night is the new Friday night. Thursday and Friday are what Saturday night used to be, and Sunday night is still Sunday night. Chinese food and HBO.”
“Thanks for the lonely-girls update,” I laughed.
“Yeah, but you’re not gonna be lonely for long.”
“Not true. At the rate I’m going, my Saturday night steady is going to be a Korean guy who knows how to exfoliate.”
“I don’t get it. I told Drew you were into him. I thought, you know, he’d—”
“Don’t get me wrong, Delia. He’s really sweet, but we’ve both got a lot of stuff to deal with right now, and he’s a busy guy.”
“No he’s not. I’ll talk to him again.”
“No, don’t.” I spit out.
“Okay. But, um…there’s something I need to tell you. You just got this huge flower delivery.”
“I did? From who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh bullshit, Delia. You know everything. Are they from Drew?”
Delia didn’t answer.
“C’mon, don’t play games. Just tell me who they’re from. I’ll bet they’re from my dad, ’cause we had this really nice conversation before, and—”
“Okay, look. They’re not from your Dad. Or Drew, either. They’re…um…from Aunt Penny. Well, she’s my Aunt Penny. I don’t know what she is to you.”
I got a chill. “She’s nothing to me…absolutely nothing…. Is there a card?”
“You know what? I’ll just bring it when I pick you up.”
“No. Read it to me now.”
“You sure?”
“Delia, read me the fucking card.”
“Okay. Well, it’s not very long or anything. It says, Claire, call me tomorrow. Penny Nichol.”
“Oh wow. That is so touching. Short, but with that nice Hallmark sentiment. Don’t you think?”
“Whatever. She’s—”
“‘Call me tomorrow,’” I repeated. “Oh my God. Tomorrow is Mother’s Day! How presumptuous can you get? Like hell I’d ever call her, let alone on—”
“They’re really nice flowers, Claire. It’s one huge mother of a bouquet,” she laughed.
“I wouldn’t care if she sent me a float from the Rose Bowl parade. I’m not calling her.”
“I wouldn’t do that. Aunt Penny gets pretty pissy when you don’t do what she wants.”
“Well, that’s nothing compared to how pissy I get when someone abandons me!”
“She’s trying to be nice. Maybe just call her to say hi.”
“Nope. Sorry. She hung up on me already. Only one insult per customer.”
Chapter 28
SERIOUSLY, WHO DOES THAT? WHO HAS A BABY, DITCHES THE KID, THEN thirty years later sends flowers and a card that says call me? What did the fabulous Penny Nichol think? That she was in some sappy film by Nora Ephron that had your p
redictable let’s-kiss-and-make-up scene, followed by a happy ending? Roll credits?
As I waited for Delia and Shari to pick me up, and wrote Grams a note telling her where I was going, I had a chilling thought. Abe had become a great humanitarian, in spite of witnessing untold atrocities and the insidious underbelly of evil. Yet his biggest disappointment may have been that he had spawned a daughter who had beauty and talent, but a defective heart. Who came from a loving home that cherished family, but who in a slap-of-the-face act chose a life that shunned motherhood and commitment.
In fact, who could have guessed that of all the heroic acts that Abraham Fabrikant performed in his eighty-four years, his greatest act of compassion would be deciding to let me grow up in a normal environment? How wise and fortuitous he was to understand that if he forced his daughter to raise her daughter, I would be subjected to emotional abuses that could scar me for life.
Oh yeah. I would definitely be calling my mother to wish her a happy Mother’s Day.
No, not that one.
When I awoke the next morning in Cousin Drew’s bed (yes, he was back to being Cousin Drew), I tried to remember what I did last Mother’s Day. Oy. How could I have forgotten? I’d spent it with Sydney and her mother. And Sydney’s stepmother. And her ex-stepmother, too. In fact, it was practically raining mothers at Pedal’s, the trendy Santa Monica bistro, where we’d been invited to brunch with Sydney’s father.
How very chic, I’d thought at the time. And so very California to have a civil assemblage of women all connected to one man, feasting on cold, poached salmon and green apple martinis. The fact that two of the women had recently had their antidepressants upped, and the third had just been released from the hospital after a little bout with attempted suicide, did in no way diminish the cordial chatter about the one issue on which we were all united: the urgent need for cow cloning so as to guarantee an endless supply of the all important botulinum toxin that made frown lines disappear.
But this Mother’s Day would surely go down as the mother of them all. Too bad Hallmark didn’t sell one card for the woman who forgot you existed, and another for the woman who woke up one day, got word that she was being called up for active duty, and had to report to Camp Motherhood at once.
Claire Voyant Page 30
