He helps me up and croons, “Poor baby, you’ve got a bug.”
I half smile, “It doesn’t feel like the flu. I think I might have a touch of food poisoning. How do you feel?”
He replies, “I feel great, so I can’t imagine that it’s food poisoning. We ate off of each other’s plates all day.”
He has a point. I ate everything he ate and vice versa. Maybe it is just a little twenty-four hour thing. All I know though is that I am currently ravenous having just emptied my stomach. Elliot tucks me back into bed and then goes to the kitchen to make me breakfast. In no time flat I’m eating honeydew melon with toast and sipping tea to settle my stomach. When I’ve cleaned my plate I’m inexplicably in the mood for an omelet and sausage and if you can believe it, buttered popcorn.
Once I’m sure that I’m not going to lose my breakfast too, we get up, shower and get dressed for the day. Elliot and I walk to The Plaza, where he’s staying, and by the time we get there I declare he has to feed me again. I don’t want to waste time getting to another restaurant so we eat right there at one in the hotel. I don’t warn Edith Bunker ahead of time, but I order a bunion with double the meat, double cheese, and double onions, but only one bun this time. I am both relieved and alarmed that I’m back on bunions, relieved I didn’t turn on them forever and alarmed I started craving them before getting rid of Edith Bunker.
Elliot is trying to talk to me over lunch but I merely grunt in reply. I am solely focused on my delicious lunch. I initially balk that they’re charging twenty-four dollars for a burger, but once I bite into it, I would gladly pay fifty. And the fries, I don’t know what they did to the fries but I can’t get enough of them. I think they are dipped in seasoned batter before deep frying and oh Lord, they are spectacular.
Somewhere in the middle of the meal Elliot declares, “Mimi, if you don’t stop groaning while you eat, I’m going to drag you out of here and up to my room.”
I look up from my meal thoroughly intrigued by the idea but first I want to finish my lunch so I try to control myself, until they bring the dessert cart. Elliot asks if I want anything. I have every intention of saying no until I see the most wicked looking brownie hot fudge sundae walk by. Actually, someone carries it, but it’s still a dreamy, dreamy thing. I order one before I can stop myself.
Elliot smiles and groans, “You’re teasing me on purpose aren’t you?”
I try to explain that I’m not. I’m really just ravenously hungry but he doesn’t believe me. So I set out to purposely torture him when my dessert arrives. I lick whipped cream off my spoon with the concentration of a spoiled cat. I moan at the sheer pleasure of the homemade fudge sauce. And I close my eyes and savor every single drop of pure fat, French vanilla ice cream. What set out as a game has turned into intense enjoyment of the scrumptiousness before me. By the time I declare I couldn’t possibly take one more bite, Elliot has already paid the check and is dragging me out of the restaurant. He whispers if I don’t hurry, my fantasy of making love in an elevator might just come true today. I purposefully slow my pace at the fascinating notion but he just pulls harder.
Remember how I said that I could never be a bulimic? Apparently I lied. I threw up again, not even an hour later. Elliot thinks I really do have the flu but I think that I just ate too much at lunch. Once I barf, the nausea passes and I want to eat again, this time its nachos and peach cobbler from room service. I discover it tastes best when I alternate bites, one bite of refried beans and cheese, one bit of peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream. After I finish my feast, we sit back to see what happens. Happily, I don’t throw up but I am left feeling guilty about the hundreds of points that I’ve just consumed.
Elliot takes me home in a cab and we stay at my place as I have to work in the morning. I sleep like the dead and don’t even move when the alarm goes off the next morning. Elliot nudges me and asks if I want him to call in sick for me, and I immediately snap to attention, “Good God, no! No one at work can know about us until everything is settled between you and Beatrice.” As an afterthought I add, “In fact we should wait awhile even then, so it doesn’t look like you were cheating on her.”
He snuggles me, “How are you feeling?”
I smile and declare, “Starving! I must be all better.” Elliot makes us breakfast while I shower and by eight-forty-two, we are sharing a cab into the office.
By Tuesday morning, it becomes abundantly clear that I don’t have the flu and that I am in fact not a bulimic. I am pregnant. Yes, that’s right, knocked up, bun in the oven, full on breeding. Of course I’m delighted as I’m making this baby with the man I love. But the timing is just crap. He is still engaged to another woman, I have just started a new job and he is still engaged to another woman! Did I mention he was engaged to another woman? I am guessing that this happened the night in the carriage because between you, me and the lamppost, I’m pretty certain we didn’t use any protection. I mean, I know I didn’t. It was just one of those spontaneous acts you are not supposed to engage in in the twenty-first century for a variety of reasons, this being one of them.
Muffy, Kevin, and Beatrice all arrive today and I don’t plan on telling anyone my news, especially not Elliot. He has enough on his mind figuring out how he’s going to break up with Beatrice without any additional pressure. The hardest part is going to be keeping it from everyone I work with. I am increasingly more nauseous and there are only so many incidences of food poisoning I can claim without making them suspicious.
I weigh in at noon today and break my vow not to tell anyone about the b-a-b-y. I figure that Babs should really know so that I can find out what to do next as far as my diet is concerned. The good news is that Weight Watchers has a plan for pregnant women, where I get to consume more points. The bad news is that it’s only three to five extra points and my appetite is demanding at least double my current twenty-nine.
I’m meeting Muffy and Kevin at Elaine’s at six-thirty for dinner so I leave the office early to get ready. When I walk into the restaurant, they are already there. It is so wonderful to see them that I throw myself into their arms. I’ve missed seeing them on a daily basis and start to fantasize about going home. If only I could split my time between New York and Pipsy, I’d have the best of both worlds.
Muffy tells me that she and Tom have filed for divorce and being that we live in a no-fault state, she should be a free woman in three months. Then she announces she’s quit her job at the country club. I look at her and Kevin and declare, “One of you has to work!”
Kevin replies, “We’re both going to work. I’m financing Muff in opening her own tennis academy. We’ve already bought the property and we break ground the day after we get home.”
I’m stunned, “This is unexpected. I mean, are you guys sure… I mean, what if, you know…”
My sister comes to my rescue, “We have already drawn up legal contracts that will protect both of us in case our relationship doesn’t work.”
Kevin contributes, “But just so you know, we’re planning on it working.”
I know I sound pessimistic and someone in my shoes should just shut up and congratulate them, so that is exactly what I do. The plan is Muffy will run the actual fitness part of the club and Kevin will be in charge of the office end. They’re going to open in Hilldale and offer specials that will make them a very competitive alternative to the country club.
Muff says, “The people who play at the club tend to be less competitive and just play socially. We’re going to start tournaments in order to draw some of the more serious players to our facility as well.”
Kevin chimes in, “That way it’s not an either-or type of situation. They can do both.”
Muffy adds, “Renée is going to be a huge help by joining and encouraging her snotty friends to do so as well. And Jonathan has agreed to do our PR. Oh Meems, we’re so excited!”
I ask if they’ve come up with a name yet and Kevin says that they’re thinking of “The Buff Muff.” I ask if they don’t th
ink the name is highly provocative and they assure me that it’s good subliminal advertising as apparently a buff muff is coveted by men and women alike. I just wonder what the junior league is going to say.
After dinner Kevin and Muffy decide to go out for a drink. They invite me along, but I can barely keep my eyes open, not to mention that I am not drinking. When I get back to my apartment I see the message light flashing. It’s Elliot calling to tell me that he loves me and that everything is going to work out fine. I try to convince myself that he’s right, but first I have to throw up my dinner.
Chapter 41
Today is the big luncheon to launch “Pink” and while I should be thrilled that all of our hard work is about to pay off, I’m scared shitless as well. This is the first time that I will be face-to-face with Beatrice after officially stealing her fiancée and I feel lower than an eel’s belly. Elliot hasn’t broken up with her yet but vows to do the deed tonight.
Helena, Jocina, Imelda, and I don’t even bother to go into the office this morning. We just head straight to the grand ballroom at the Waldorf Astoria where the luncheon is being held. When I walk in at eight o’clock, the place is already a hive of activity. The tables look gorgeous with their pink linens and pink flower arrangements. The booths are all set up, and the stage we’ve erected is getting the final decorating touches, which essentially involve thousands of pink roses and tulle. I feel like I’m walking into an heiress’s sweet sixteen party, but the effect is stunning.
The girls and I decided we will all wear white. The original plan was that we would dress in pink to match our theme, but upon further speculation we realized that we might look like a Mary Kay convention; which in addition to being a competing cosmetics line to Shimmer, is also not the image we wish to portray.
My main function at the event is to make sure the celebrities get on stage at the right time and in the right order. It’s not the most demanding job but I feel like it rivals the degree of execution needed to launch the space shuttle. My brain is simply not tuned into the task at hand.
By ten -fifteen the press starts to arrive to set up in the best locations to cover the event. By eleven the speakers have arrived and are doing initial interviews with the journalists. I notice that Beatrice arrives with Elliot and she is talking to the press as well. It occurs to me Elliot and I never considered the ramifications his breaking up with Beatrice would have. Every magazine in attendance is going to publish pictures and interviews with Elliot Fielding and his cancer-afflicted fiancée and by the time the story breaks, they will no longer be an item. Enter me, the Wicked Witch of the West who is responsible for stealing this admirable man from the woman he’s loved for three years. Oh my God! Why hadn’t we thought of this before now? I’m nauseous again. I frantically look around for the closest ladies room and when I see it’s too far away, I simply lean behind a large potted palm and unload my breakfast there.
There is no way Elliot is going to come out of this situation with any sympathy from the public eye and one guess what that will do to the sales of his next book. Then he’ll grow to resent me and he’ll stop loving me and I’ll have to raise our child on my own. I want to go home and hide from the inevitable horror of it all but I can’t. The very least I can do is stay and help to make sure the event is a success. I start to make deals with Stan and Ollie; write me a happy ending and I’ll give half of my salary to breast cancer research. Who am I kidding? The pleas go more like, “Write me a happy ending and I’ll do anything, anything at all, just write damn it, write!”
Helena comes over to me and tells me none too gently that I look like death warmed over and asks what’s wrong. I mumble, “Food poisoning.” And she asks if I’ve started picking out names for my food poisoning yet.
I look at her in shock but she just shakes her head and says, “No one knows. Go get a glass of orange juice, you’ll feel better.” I merely nod my head and do what she says. I’m afraid if I open my mouth I’ll either puke on her or start crying.
By eleven-thirty, the guests start to arrive en masse and I assemble all of the celebrity speakers to inform them who they will be following in the line-up. As soon as they hear me announce the name of their predecessor, they need to make their way to stage left, where I will be waiting to meet them. I beg them to please not be in the bathroom when they are the next guest on stage. I mean the Golden Globes is a multi-million dollar production and they couldn’t get Christine Lahti out of the potty in time to accept her award. I implore them to please learn from their contemporary’s mistake.
Before going back to his table, Elliot leans in and whispers in my ear, “Remember, I love you, Mimi.” I want to shout back, “But you’re not going to when you see how badly this ends!” I don’t though. I simply give him a pathetic smile and push him in the direction of his table.
The president of Shimmer opens the luncheon with a moving speech about the personal toll breast cancer has taken on her life. While she has not been afflicted with the disease herself, she still claims to be a survivor as her mother and her sister were both diagnosed with the disease and neither one of them won their battle. She is a survivor by default. She wishes more than anything there was some way to bring them back. As there isn’t, she vows to do everything she can to keep other women from experiencing the pain she has suffered.
I am not the only one bawling through her speech. I am however the only one doing so near a microphone. People from the audience begin to look in my direction with kind and pitying eyes. They probably assume I have a similar story and their hearts are going out to me. If they only knew the truth, I imagine they would stone me with their rolls. I have a mad urge to run onto the stage and unburden myself of the truth. But thank the good Lord something stops me from doing this. It’s Edith Bunker. She hisses, “Don’t move!” And luckily I listen to her.
The first celebrity speaker is called to the stage and she also shares her heart breaking story of how breast cancer has touched her life. Then the second speaker, and so on and so on and so on until I’m sure there isn’t a tear left in my head. My eyes are swollen, my nose is swollen and my lips are swollen. I look like I’ve been attacked by a swarm of bees. By the time Elliot is called, I’m about to beg him to stay with Beatrice and forget all about me. I’ll raise my bastard child alone in Pipsy. My family will help take the place of his or her father.
When Elliot is announced the audience rises to their feet in thunderous applause. After all, he is their hero. He is the one that was man enough to stay with his sick girlfriend. He is the ultimate specimen! He walks to the microphone and the audience gradually starts to calm down.
Elliot smiles at the faces around the room and starts, “My experience with breast cancer has changed my life dramatically. While I have not been afflicted with the disease myself, it has taken its toll on two women that are very dear to me.” I gasp and think, two women, who’s the other? Elliot continues, “The first lady I loved who had it was also the same woman that I attribute my love of writing to. Without her, I have no idea what I would be doing with my life today. Her name was Henrietta Harding and she was my fifth grade teacher.” The audience beams their approval. “Mrs. Harding introduced me to reading with an unparalleled enthusiasm and love of the written word. She and I continued to share our love for books long after I left her class. In fact we continued until she died three years ago. While Mrs. Harding was my favorite teacher for one year, Henrietta was my dear friend for over thirty.” The audience is clapping wildly at Elliot’s very touching story. I wondered why all of Elliot’s book dedications have been to someone named Hen and now I know. My body manages to produce even more tears and I feel like the worst kind of villain ever.
When everyone calms down again, Elliot continues, “The second woman that I have loved with the disease is named Beatrice Hedges and she is here with me today.” Elliot indicates Beatrice and she stands while the audience claps their approval. Beatrice does not sit back down, however. She walks straight to stage left a
nd then proceeds past me to join Elliot. I wait with bated breath to see what she is doing. Helena looks at me with a panicked expression but I merely shrug my shoulders. I have absolutely no idea what to expect. Elliot looks surprised as well, but as soon as Beatrice gets to his side, he kisses her on the cheek and the crowd goes wild again. Where is Lee Harvey Oswald when you need him? Because more than anything, I wish someone would just shoot me now and put me out of my misery.
Beatrice steps in front of the microphone and starts to speak. She gives a small smile and announces, “I hope you will all forgive the intrusion. But I would like to be the one to share with you what happens next.” Every person in the ballroom is holding their breath in anticipation when she continues, “I met Elliot shortly after Henrietta died and I was totally and completely enamored of him.” She looks up at him adoringly and the audience applauds again. I have the sinking feeling that I really am going to be raising my child alone. Beatrice continues, “Elliot and I had only had three dates when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.” She pauses before adding, “They were wonderful dates, but we both knew right away that we were only meant to be friends and nothing more.”
What?! What is she talking about? Where is this going?
“I have allowed Elliot to sacrifice the last three years of his life to my cause because I was selfish and afraid to face my battle alone.” Everyone is looking at her in shock and she continues, “I even went so far as to accept his proposal of marriage. But the truth is while I love him and will always cherish him for the sacrifices he has made on my behalf, I am not in love with him.” Elliot looks like you could knock him over with a feather. Beatrice turns to him and smiles, “Elliot Fielding, you and I both deserve a grand passion and I think it’s about time we find one. The biggest thing that cancer has taught me is that life is a gift, a very precious gift and we are obligated to make the most of it.” Now she takes his hand and continues, “While we are meant for other people, I want you to know I would not have had the strength to be here today without all of your love and support. For all of that and so much more, I will never be able to repay you. But my greatest hope is that someday you will forgive me for taking so much from you when it wasn’t mine to take.” Beatrice stands on her tiptoes and kisses Elliot’s cheek and then she gives him a hug. The audience is back on their feet encouraging this strange and wonderful moment.
The Reinvention of Mimi Finnegan (The Mimi Chronicles Book 1) Page 23
