“Notice that I’m reserving judgment until after the party,” Judy said dryly, discreetly moving the Ainsley china box she usually kept on the coffee table into a drawer.
“Oh dear, what about the cats? Should we shut them up in the bedroom?” Martha could feel panic rising within her as she tried to contend with the issue of Ralph and Snowflake.
“We’ll let them stay. Ralph can be the butler and Snowflake the maid. Come here, Ralphie. Do you know how to buttle?”
“I changed my mind,” Martha said softly, gripping a can of Diet Pepsi. “Let’s not have a party.”
As if on cue, the buzzer buzzed. “Someone’s here!” Judy cried gaily. “Our first guests!”
Martha ran into the kitchen, feigning concern over a vase full of mildly droopy marigolds.
“Hey, Shirley! Kate! Come in!” Judy exclaimed.
“Look, we’re the first ones here,” Shirley breathed as she and Kate bustled in. “Oooh! What a cute apartment!”
“Where’s Martha?” Kate asked. “Here she is, hiding in the kitchen. Martha, I’m glad we’re so early. I want to talk to you.” She went over to the kitchen counter and automatically began filling the empty baskets with crackers. “Shirley just told me that you’re leaving AmFoods. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Martha shrugged. “I’m trying to keep it quiet for now. Don’t worry, word will be out soon enough.”
“That’s so exciting!” Kate exclaimed. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a job with World Air, as a statistician.”
“Wow! How glamorous! All those free vacations! And all those handsome pilots!”
“I doubt that there will be many pilots hanging around the Marketing Department,” Martha commented.
“Martha,” Judy interrupted, “Betsy and Lisa are here.”
“What’s going on?” Betsy asked, coming into the kitchen. “It’s awfully crowded in here. It seems strange to hold the party in such a small room when the whole living room is empty!”
“We were just discussing Martha’s new job,” Kate explained. “More money, more vacation time, better benefits, and free flights anywhere in the world!”
“Well, not exactly free,” Martha mumbled.
“That’s great!” Lisa cried, stirring a packet of flaky onion soup mix into a bowl of sour cream that Shirley had handed to her. “See, all of our nagging finally paid off!”
“That really is wonderful,” Betsy added. “Congratulations!”
“Here, I just made this vodka punch,” Shirley said. “Let’s drink a toast to your new career!”
“Quick!” Judy called from the living room. “We need an emergency Diet Pepsi out here. Lucy just arrived!”
As guests continued to file in, Martha stood by and marveled at the fact that she and Judy had created a successful party. People mingled, they ate, they strolled around the apartment. It was easy, entertaining in her own home. She felt vaguely as if she was living a feature article in Better Homes and Gardens.
“Hey, Martha!” Judy called. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine from work, Tony Monteleone. He’s in International Marketing. I’m sure you’ll be seeing him around. Maybe you’ll even be working together!”
“Hi, Tony.” Martha smiled.
“So, you’re about to join the excitement at World Air, huh? I have just one piece of advice for you. Don’t eat in the company cafeteria. Rumor has it that they serve airline food. Only they take it off those little plastic plates first so you don’t recognize it...”
“Oh, pooh!” scoffed Judy. “Don’t listen to him, Marty. He’s just trying to get attention, as usual. Next thing you know, he’ll be wearing a lampshade on his head!”
“Sounds like fun,” commented a good-looking stranger who happened by. “Are you Martha? I’m John, Betsy’s cousin. She said it would be okay if I came and, well, I brought three or four of my friends. Fellow graduate students at NYU. Gee, I’m sorry Bets didn’t tell me about you sooner!”
When Judy disappeared to greet a group of her ex-neighbors from her previous residence, Martha was left with both John and Tony. She found their competitive attempts at impressing her and monopolizing her attention extremely flattering. Her ability to return their clever remarks and to flirt with both at once was one that she had never before recognized.
More and more guests continued to arrive, and Judy and Martha began to realize that, thanks to word of mouth, their party was rapidly turning into the social event of the season. The music got louder, the guests got rowdier, and Judy had to make two trips downstairs to the corner delicatessen to replenish vanishing supplies of ice, crackers, and Diet Pepsi.
“You’re certainly the life of the party, Marty,” Judy teased as they collided near the onion dip. “Must be that X-rated halter.”
“Me? What about you? You’re the one who inspired me to go out and buy one in the first place, since you looked so sexy in yours!”
“Well, it’s effective, at any rate. By the way, I think Lisa has her eye on Betsy’s cousin. She was looking daggers at you a few minutes ago. You little devil.”
“Oh, you’re exaggerating.” Martha blushed.
When Eddie arrived, Martha substituted vodka punch for the diet soda she had been sipping. “It is our nation’s birthday,” she rationalized, “as well as my own celebration. So I might as well celebrate!” She downed a glass and thought of all the healthy vitamin C she was ingesting.
“Hi, baby!” Eddie discovered her hiding in the kitchen. “Looks like a great party. Who are all these people?”
“That’s Shirley, that’s the couple from upstairs, those are some friends of Judy’s from work...”
“Who brought the cats?”
“Um, Ralphie belongs to Judy. Snowflake is mine.” Martha studied the beads of moisture that dripped down the sides of her plastic tumbler.
“Yours?” Eddie looked perturbed. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“That’s because you’ve been trekking out to Cincinnati ...”
“When did you get him?”
“You certainly are asking a lot of questions,” Martha complained. She finished her glass of vodka punch, suddenly irritated.
“Hell, I don’t see what the big secret is.” Eddie, too, was unexpectedly cross.
“He was a birthday present,” Martha declared. “Now will you please excuse me? I have to see to my guests.”
“Martha, why are you being so belligerent?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. It’s as if you were trying to pick a fight over nothing.”
“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Martha apologized sheepishly. “I guess I’m just nervous because of the party. It’s not easy, you know, being a charming hostess.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Eddie put his arm around Martha and nuzzled her ear. “We shouldn’t be fighting. This is kind of an engagement party for us, isn’t it?”
The buzzer sounded again. This is not just any buzz, Martha thought, her stomach sinking to her shoes. This must be the Buzz of Doom.
Judy, lacking Martha’s psychic powers, answered the door coolly, Snowflake in one hand and a carrot stick in the other. She cocked her head, unable to recognize the face that smiled at her openly. “Are you a party crasher?” she asked innocently.
“No. I’m responding to some graffiti I saw in the men’s room at Grand Central Station: For a good time, come to Martha Nowicki’s party.’“
“Well, I don’t know who you are, but I like you.” Judy laughed. “Come in and have some spinach pie. I made it myself.”
“That’s a cute pussycat.”
“Isn’t he a sweetie?”
“Hey, Snowflake! How’s my boy?”
Judy froze. “Oh. Now I know. You’re Larry.”
“Right. And you must be Judy.”
“In the flesh. Well, folks, it’s showtime. Should I blink the lights on and off?”
Larry smiled, and Judy could see how Martha had fallen for his easy manner and q
uick smile, not to mention his blond beard and deep brown eyes.
“Take it easy.” Larry spread his arms out, palms up. “Hey, we’re all friends here, right?”
“Oh dear,” Judy sighed and rushed to the kitchen.
“Martha, hon,” she said sweetly, watching Martha pry herself loose from Eddie’s clutches, “could you come here a second? I have to ask you about the canapés.”
“We don’t have any canapés,” Martha said once Judy had succeeded in dragging her into the bedroom. “Unless you count the Triscuits that fell into the onion dip...”
“Martha. Oh, no. You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
“Not me. I’m thinking of having my picture taken for the cover of House Beautiful. ‘Martha Nowicki, that mad gadabout hostess of New York’s fashionable West Side...’”
“Marty. Please listen. Larry is here.”
“Where?” Martha stuck her head out the bedroom door.
“He’s hiding behind Kate and the gorilla that came with Jane. Right now, he’s as far away from Eddie as he could possibly be, without going out onto the fire escape.”
“You mean the balcony.”
“Martha!”
“Oh, Judy, I’m not drunk. I’m just...mellow. I’ve decided to take a devil-may-care attitude toward life.”
“Uh-oh. Well, it’s a good thing. I think it’s time for Godzilla Meets the Wolf Man.”
Martha shrugged.
“Excuse me,” Eddie was saying to Larry as they bumped into each other in front of Judy’s spinach pie. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Edward Magill.”
“I know.” Larry smiled and extended his hand. “I’m an old friend of Martha’s. Larry Fisher.”
“So, Larry, what’s your field? My game is advertising.”
By this time, Judy and Martha stood in the doorway of the bedroom, holding each other up as they witnessed the dreaded encounter.
“Drugs. I’m into drugs.”
“Oh.” Eddie looked puzzled, but polite. Martha observed that he had molded himself into a diplomatic businessman.
And then, Eddie Magill turned white. Martha had never seen anyone turn completely white before, only red, or green, or blue on very special occasions. But this was the real thing.
“Drugs,” he pronounced. “You’re him. I know who you are.” His voice was even, but his face remained white.
“I feel nauseous,” Martha whispered. “I’m leaving.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Judy warned, clutching her arm. “You started this. Now you’d better act as referee.”
“Eddie,” Martha began, stepping forward. Somehow, the fact that Judy had stopped the circulation in her left arm gave her the strength to speak out.
“Martha, what’s going on? Why did you invite him?”
“I can invite anyone I want. It’s my house. It’s my party.” Instead of anger, Martha saw fear. There was fear in Eddie Magill’s eyes. Judy let her arm drop, as if she realized that Martha no longer needed borrowed strength.
“This is kind of odd, isn’t it? I mean, inviting your old boyfriend to your engagement party?” Eddie’s voice sounded hard, but the fear remained in his eyes.
“You know, Ed,” Martha said calmly, “I never realized before that you were so vulnerable.”
“Shit. This is hardly the time for playing Psychologist for a Day.”
Martha raised her eyebrows. “I meant that as a compliment.”
Eddie became flustered, and he turned back to Larry. “You know, Martha and I are engaged.”
Larry smiled and nodded. “Congratulations. I hope you two will be very happy together.” He raised his glass toward Martha and smirked.
It occurred to Martha that she had missed his chocolate chip eyes.
“And I think you have some damn nerve,” Eddie continued, “showing up here like this.”
“That was up to Martha,” Larry replied calmly. “It’s her party, and she made up the guest list. Besides,” he quipped, “I can never say no to a beautiful woman.”
“You bastard,” Eddie seethed. “I ought to punch you out right here.”
“Oh? Is that how things are handled in the sophisticated world of advertising?” Larry asked evenly, but Martha could see the anger rising behind his cool facade.
“You know, I know all about you and Martha,” Eddie said.
Larry shrugged, holding Eddie’s gaze steadily. “Martha is over eighteen. She’s allowed to make her own decisions.”
“Why, you...”
“Hey, cool it, guys,” Martha interrupted impatiently. “I’m sure you’re both getting off on vying for the Mr. Macho award, but let me tell you that neither of you is perfect. On the contrary, my dear friends. And you are not ‘in competition’ for me, either. Larry,” she turned to address him specifically, “you’re the one who’s always complaining about winning, and treating people fairly and all that. Unfortunately, I can’t say that the way you act always comes up to those high standards of yours. And Eddie, you have no reason to be hostile toward Larry. He didn’t ‘steal me away’ from you. The days of Errol Flynn are long gone. If things had been as peachy between us as you like to believe, you and I would have lived happily ever after. Now if either of you says one more word to each other, civil or non-, I’m going to throw you out personally. I’m a lot stronger than I look, ever since I took up running,” she added proudly.
“Martha,” Eddie commanded, his eyes glued to Larry, “why don’t you announce our engagement publicly? Right now.”
“Most people already know,” Judy interjected after a slight hesitation. She was finding this scene totally engrossing: painful to watch, but impossible to ignore. It was like the gory scenes in a World War II movie.
“This is an engagement party,” Eddie went on, “and I think it would be appropriate if you and I announced our engagement right now.”
“Great,” Larry replied. “I’ll just retire to the corner with Snowflake.” He smiled at Martha, and his wink was almost undetectable. “I don’t believe you’re actually going to go through with this,” he added softly.
“Why not?” she asked indignantly.
“I know you better than you think. You’ve come through for me before, and, well, let’s just say I have a lot of faith in you.”
“Think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?” Martha said, a half-grin on her face.
Meanwhile, Eddie had found a glass and a spoon, and was banging them together.
“Attention, everybody. Attention. Martha has an announcement she’d like to make.”
They all turned to her, her room full of friends. Betsy and Lisa beamed, expecting to hear that Martha had decided upon a career in podiatry or ornithology. Lucy and Judy crunched stalks of celery in unison, watching her with the same concentration they usually reserved for Irma Gold. Shirley, Kate, and Louise stood huddled together around the wicker chair. In the back, next to the balcony that overlooked Central Park, Larry and Snowflake sat with complete indifference on their faces.
She couldn’t see the threads, but she knew they were there. The threads that bound her to these people, threads that she had voluntarily spun, all by herself. She belonged with these people, and they, in turn, belonged in her home.
Martha spoke. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming to my Fourth of July party. It’s also a house-warming party, and I’d like to welcome you to my new apartment.”
Eddie fidgeted. Eddie glared. Eddie pouted.
“And,” Martha went on, “I’d like to take this opportunity to announce...”
She inhaled deeply, and as she did so, it was as if her entire life passed before her eyes. She saw Irma Gold, her apartment on the East Side, her teddy bear, Larry, the sink in the New York Hospital ladies’ room. It all went by so quickly, in a fraction of a second.
“I’m not going to marry Eddie.”
There was a great deal of confusion, some nervous laughter, some whispers. Eddie thought he had heard incorrectly, but his face turn
ed white again, as if on command. Larry sighed into Snowflake’s furry neck.
“How about some music?” Martha suggested gaily, oblivious to the dead silence she had provoked.
“Well,” Judy said calmly, “I didn’t know this was going to be a surprise party.”
“Neither did I,” Martha admitted. “I thought it was just going to turn out to be a regular old Independence Day fete.”
“Uh-oh,” Judy muttered. “Here comes Eddie. Hell hath no fury like an ad man scorned. This is my cue to disappear.”
“So,” Eddie said, cornering Martha. “This is how it ends, huh? Tell me, have you enjoyed making a complete fool of me?”
“Oh, come now. I think we’re bordering on the dramatic here—Theater of the Embarrassed.”
“No, I’m not embarrassed, Martha. I’m hurt, I’m really hurt. I thought I knew you, and now it turns out you’re a complete stranger. You take our love and turn it into a joke. A joke at my expense. I don’t understand why, either, how you ever managed to reach this decision to end our relationship.”
“I’ve tried to explain, but you never seem to hear.” Martha shrugged. “I guess I’ve just given up.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “If you let me walk out that door, Martha, you’ll never see me again.” He stared at her hard, searching for a sign of reconciliation, a look of remorse.
“Well, now,” she replied flatly, “that has to be your decision.”
Martha turned away from Eddie, completely disinterested in watching his final exit. She returned to Judy’s bedroom, the hideout for the stack of records that had been carefully chosen for their unobtrusive-ness. As she filed through Judy’s Beatles collection, mildly aware of the euphoric numbness that had fallen over her, she heard someone come into the room behind her. It was Larry, she knew.
“What are you looking so smug about?” she asked as he sat down cross-legged on the floor beside her.
“Nothing. I guess I’m just glad that I’ll be able to visit Snowflake now. I got tired of being an outcast.”
“It’s not as if you won a contest, you know. I’m not a prize. And I haven’t made a trade, either.”
“No. I know that.” Larry traced a floorboard with his finger.
Once There Was a Fat Girl Page 21
