by Joy Fielding
"But you are good," Laurie said.
"Yes," Jill answered, "I am good." She smiled widely, feeling almost smug about the successful direction that this meal had taken. Maybe this was what had been needed all along—someone to show an interest in the child, and to show that interest by not only asking the right questions but by caring enough about her to share some of their lives with her. By talking to her as if she were a person and not just an unruly adolescent. Jill took a large bite of her steak. “Anyway," she continued, almost cockily, "at this stage, you usually have to write the script. Then you have to do the mixing, which is a real drag. I hate it."
"What is it?"
"Well, you have to get a narrator to read what you've written. And then you need music and other sounds for ambiance. You know what ambiance means?" The girl shook her head, stuffing a forkful of salad into her mouth. "Atmosphere," Jill explained. "And then you also have your interviews. They're all on separate tracks. You have a three channel audio mix, and what you do basically is to marry the picture and the sound." She stopped, watching Laurie eat. "Kind of a neat phrase," she said, repeating it in her mind. "And that's it. Then it's finished."
"Sounds really exciting," Laurie said, chewing.
Jill laughed happily. "No, not exciting, really. Exciting isn't the word," she said, groping for what the right word would be. "It has more to do with movement," she said finally. "Producers of this kind of format move around a lot. We like to go around with the crew, gathering up all the news and stuff. That's what I like. I feel like for the first time in a very long while, I'm moving again! Does that make any sense?"
Laurie scooped up the last of her gravy with the remainder of her Kaiser. "I think so," she said, pushing away her empty plate.
"Do you want some dessert?" Jill asked.
"Do they make hot fudge sundaes?"
"Is that what you'd like?" Laurie nodded enthusiastically. Jill signaled for the waiter. "One hot fudge sundae," she said, returning her attention to her plate as the waiter removed Laurie's.
"You met my father on one of your shows, didn't you?" Laurie asked suddenly, catching Jill off guard.
"Yes," Jill answered, quietly.
“And you decided you liked what you saw," Laurie paused, "and so you went after it?''
Jill put down her fork, not happy with the sudden shift in the conversation.
"Laurie," she began cautiously, "I did not break up your parents' marriage. Your father was unhappy for a long time before I came along—"
"That's not what my mother says. She says everything was fine until you—"
"If everything had been fine," Jill said, trying to defend herself, "your father wouldn't have—" She cut herself short. She had been about to say that David wouldn't have looked at her twice. But it wasn't true and she knew it. David always looked twice. More, given the chance. And if it hadn't been for her, he might very well have stayed married to Elaine, continuing on in his already established pattern of affairs and casual couplings. "You're right. Or at least, you're right enough," she said. The waiter deposited the giant hot fudge sundae in front of David's daughter and left.
Laurie stared at Jill in genuine surprise. Without speaking, she raised the spoon to her lips and began to eat. She finished off the entire sundae before either one spoke again.
"You liked the ice cream?" Jill asked incredulously.
"It was delicious."
"I'm glad." Jill wasn't sure what to say, aware that the youngster was expecting her to continue. "Laurie, I—when I met your father, I didn't know he was married. I thought he was separated from your mother—"
"Why'd you think that?"
She couldn't say "because that's what your father told me." Honesty was one thing. But a fourteen-year-old girl didn't deserve that much truth. "I don't know. Anyway, it doesn't really matter because I found out quickly anyway—"
"How?"
''He told me. Your father told me. But by then it was too late, I was crazy mad in love with him, and I just couldn't give him up. I tried. We both tried. We didn't want to hurt you or your brother or your mother—"
The waiter retrieved the empty sundae dish and Jill’s half-empty dinner plate. "But you did, didn't you?" the girl asked. ''You hurt all of us."
"Yes we did," Jill quietly agreed. "And I'm sorry.”
Laurie shrugged. "My mom is going to recover the living room furniture," she said, unaware of the non sequitur.
Jill smiled. "Why not?" she said, wistfully.
Jill checked her watch. It was almost two o'clock. If she waited any longer for Laurie to come out of the restaurant bathroom, she'd be late getting back to work. She left an oversized tip for the waiter—perhaps he had in some way contributed to the meal's success—and pushed back her chair, striding purposefully past the stand-up bar, exchanging several quick greetings as she made her way toward the ladies' room into which Laurie had disappeared some ten minutes ago.
The smell hit her as soon as she opened the door.
"My God, Laurie, are you all right?" she called, rushing to the open stall where Laurie knelt, her arms curled around the toilet seat, her face deathly pale.
"I guess I ate too much," she said, holding back the tears.
"It's my fault," Jill said, kneeling beside her and running her hand gently through the child's hair. She felt that if she applied even the slightest amount of pressure, the girl's head would crack open, come apart. "I'm always after you about how you don't eat enough." She went to the sink and pulled a paper towel from its box, soaking it in cold water and taking it back to press against Laurie's forehead.
"I'm sorry, Jill. It was really delicious."
"Don't talk about it. It's okay."
She knelt beside the fragile girl and held her against her own body until Laurie felt well enough to stand. Then they slowly left the restaurant and stumbled out into the fresh air. They were immediately surrounded by the definite October chill, and they hugged their coats around them.
"Are you okay for a few minutes alone?" Jill asked her. Laurie nodded. "I'll be right back. Wait right here."
Jill promptly disappeared into a book store at the comer and came back several minutes later with a book under her arm. "For you," she said.
Laurie looked at the paperback novel. “Wifey” she said aloud.
"Do you have it already?" Jill asked. Laurie shook her head, quickly rifling through the pages. "I asked the book clerk for the best of Judy Blume. This is what he gave me."
"Looks great," Laurie said, still very pale.
"Are you going to be all right in a taxi?" Jill asked.
"Yeah," Laurie nodded, looking not at all convinced.
"Laurie," Jill broached, signaling at a passing cab which promptly pulled to the curb beside them. Laurie looked searchingly into Jill's eyes. "You need help," Jill said simply. "You need to see someone who can help you—"
"A psychiatrist?" Laurie asked quietly.
"Yes," Jill answered. "Starving yourself for months and then stuffing yourself until you throw up is not healthy behavior and you're smart and sensitive enough to know it. I want to help you, Laurie, but I don't know how, except to tell you that you need more help than I can offer." The cab driver opened his door and looked at them expectantly. Neither one moved. "There's a name for your condition, Laurie," Jill continued. "And believe me, you're not alone. There are a lot of mixed-up girls out there doing the same thing to themselves as you are. I've been doing some research on it lately—"
"Maybe you'll do a show on it," Laurie said with a smile.
Jill reached over and hugged the young girl, “Maybe” Jill said. “Just you think about what I said”
Laurie nodded and broke from their embrace, quickly got in the taxi. Jill watched as the car moved in traffic and disappeared into the general maze.
Chapter 27
She was aware of the noise for several minute before she realized she wasn't still asleep.
“What's that” David asked groggily fr
om beside her.
Jill opened her eyes focusing them to on clock. It was 8 Am. What she knew instantly was it was Saturday morning. The noise had slopped and for a second Jill contemplated dismissing whatever it had been as a collective dream until it began again: an incoherent code repeating itself in short” staccato gasps.
It's the buzzer” Jill said, recognizing the sound only as she began to speak. Buzzer? Who the hell... David stated” but Jill was already out of bed and on her way to the kitchen. She returned to the bedroom less than a minute later, going instantly to the closet.
"You better throw something on,” she told her startled husband. Elaine is here. She’s on her way up. She doesn’t sound very happy.”
Jill pulled a long terry-cloth robe over her head and threw David’s blue velvet bathrobe in his direction.
“Shit” David muttered. "'What does she want?”
"She didn’t say," Jill told him. –“Maybe she can't get the top off her bottle of orange juice.”
"Very funny,” David said, running an exasperated hand through his tousled hair. He stood up, draping the bathrobe over his naked body. Jill noticed be had an erection, and felt an instant of longing sweep over her. They had made love exactly twice in the last month.
There was a loud banging at the door.
"I think she's here,'' Jill said.
David stood still at the side of the bed. He made to move.
“We could pretend we both died.'' Jill offered, hoping to produce a smile on David's sullen face. She got none. TU let her in” Jill said at last. David said nothing.
Jill went quickly toward the door, debated asking who it was, decided Elaine's humor would probably be in the same state as the man's they once shared, and decided to open the door without further preamble.
Elaine brushed angrily past her straight into the living room. "How dare you!" she began, almost instantly, turning abruptly on Jill as Jill followed her into the room.
"Hello, Elaine,'' Jill said, calmly. “Why don't you come inside?"
"Don't get smart with me,'' Elaine shot back bitterly. “How dare you?!” she repeated, fairly seething with rage.
Jill fought with all her strength to keep her own temper under control. There was no point in confronting David with the sight of two hysterical women. Where the hell was David anyway? "'Just what am I being accused of?" Jill asked.
"Please stop playing Little Miss Innocent," Elaine snapped, waving something around in her hand. "I thought we passed through that stage years ago when you admitted your adultery.
"Oh, wow!” Jill said, resurrecting an old favorite expression as she sank into one of the large wing chairs. As long as they were traveling that far back, it seem a most appropriate turn of phrase. Elaine moved without pattern back and forth before her right hand flailing out sporadically, waving what Jill now recognized as a paperback book under Jill's nose. "If you don't mind keeping that thing away from my face," Jill pointed out, hearing her voice rise.
"You didn't mind rubbing my daughter's nose in it!” Elaine yelled.
"What are you talking about?'' Jill demanded.
Elaine hurled the book onto the glass coffee table. It bounced, then landed face up. Wifey, it proclaimed innocently. By Judy Blume.
"That's the book I bought for Laurie," Jill said,
"I know goddamn well what it is! It's a piece of pure filth that even adults shouldn't be reading, let alone a fourteen-year-old girl—"
"What's the matter with you?" Jill asked, reaching over for the book and picking it up. "Laurie told me that Judy Blume is her favorite author. She writes books for teenagers." Jill flipped through the opening pages while Elaine turned her attention to David, who had just entered the room.
"What's going on here?" he asked in the quiet voice of extreme agitation that both women recognized.
"Your current wife," Elaine began, bringing the same sense of impermanence to the word that Ricki Elfer had once said she loved, "is filling our daughter's mind with filth." Each word was spat out with special significance.
"It's all a misunderstanding," Jill said, standing up and unable to conceal a smile. "I didn't realize—"
"What are you smiling about?" Elaine demanded.
"I'm sorry," Jill apologized, lowering her head when the smile refused to budge, "but I didn't realize— it was a mistake." She turned to David. "I thought all Judy Blume books were for kids. This one is obviously not." Her smile grew wider.
"Why are you smiling?" David asked, accusingly.
Jill's smile immediately disappeared. She turned back to Elaine. "Forgive me, Elaine," she said, generously. "It's my fault, of course, but it was unintentional, believe me."
"Was it also unintentional when you advised my daughter to see a psychiatrist?!" Elaine retorted, immediately switching tracks when she reached one dead end.
"What?!'' David asked, astonished.
Jill’s eyes traveled back and forth between the two angry faces.
“What the hell is she talking about, Jill?'' David asked impatiently. “What’s this nonsense about Laurie seeing a psychiatrist?"
“I don't think it is nonsense," Jill said quietly.
David was too surprised to speak.
"So, you admit it!" Elaine shouted.
"Yes, I admit it," Jill shouted back, startling die other woman. 'It’s time somebody took an interest in what's happening to that girl."
"How dare you—" Elaine seethed, repeating her opening line.
^'Look." Jill retreated somewhat, "I don't mean to say that you don't love her or that you don't care what happens to her. That's certainly not the case. But I also care about what happens to her and I think I have the right to speak up when I feel something is terribly wrong."
“You have no rights where my daughter is concerned," Elaine announced.
"Just what do you feel is so terribly wrong?' David asked.
Jill spoke directly to her husband. "David, all you have to do is look at her. She weighs half of what she weighed when I first met her." She watched David’s eyes cloud over, a mixture of boredom and disbelief filling his face.
"Oh come on, Jill, what been through this. She's a typical teenager, for heaven's sake."
“A typical anorexic." Jill said.
"What Elaine demanded?
"An anorexic." Jill repeated, about to explain before Elaine cut her off. "It's a person, usually a teenage girl, who) —"
"I don't want to know what it is! I want you to stop saying it! And to stop filling my daughter's head with filth and a lot of crazy ideas!" Jill listened without trying to interrupt as Elaine became more hysterical. “What is it you want from my life?!" Elaine continued. “What more can you take? I gave you my husband! Now you want my child too? Why? Can't you have any of your own? Is that the problem? That you're barren and you can't produce a child of your own so you have to try and grab somebody else's? Maybe if you had your own children you'd understand what being a mother all is about. But as long as Laurie and Jason are my children, you are to keep your hands off them and your filth and your crazy ideas away from them. Do you understand me?"
Jill turned to David, feeling numbed from head to toe, Elaine's words having been sprayed from her mouth as if from a can of Novocain, covering Jill's body, leaving her immune to the pain of the attack yet fully cognizant of its presence. I gave you my husband, she heard echoing in her frozen brain, colliding with words like barren and filth, words from the Middle Ages, she thought, or maybe just words of middle age. Help me, David, she thought, recognizing there was no point in trying to talk sense to Elaine. Give me some support. I'm your wife.
"Elaine's right," he said, instead. ''This really isn't any of your concern. Laurie is our child," he continued, looking over at his ex-wife. "We'll deal with her."
His words had the effect of a carefully aimed blow behind the knees. Jill felt herself buckling forward and grabbed hold of one of the wing chairs, allowing her body to sink into it.
"You'll also deal wit
h all her psychiatrist bills," Elaine said, heading toward the door. "Laurie's decided she rather likes the idea of a psychiatrist. It'll probably give her some extra prestige at school or something. Anyway, we'll send all the bills over as soon as they start arriving." She opened the door. "Goodbye, Jill. Nice talking to you."
Jill heard the door close and Elaine's footsteps retreating down the hall. She was aware that David was standing not more than two feet away from her. Still, she stared resolutely at the white carpet. She was afraid that if she looked up at her husband, she might want to kill him. It was a feeling she didn't want to know.
"Well, that was smart, wasn't it?" he was saying. "As if we don't have enough to worry about financially—"
"I'd say our financial problems are the least of our worries," Jill said, quietly.
"Christ, Jill," David continued, unmindful or uncaring of the fact that she had spoken. "A psychiatrist! Don't you think you overreacted a bit?"
"Just what is my status in this family, David?" she asked, barely audible.
"What?" he asked, testily. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about what happened in this room a few minutes ago, when I was reduced to a non-person."
"Oh, hell, Jill, make sense."
Jill raised her eyes to him for the first time since he had taken Elaine's side against hers.
"You don't see what you've done at all," she marveled.
"What I’ve done?" he asked. "I'm not the one who gave my daughter a pornographic book and told her to see a psychiatrist."
"It's hardly a pornographic book. It's maybe mildly risqué, at best, but, at any rate, that was a misunderstanding and I have no intention of apologizing for it again. What's more important here, all that's important really, is your attitude?"
"My attitude?"
"Yes." She stood up, feeling the strength returning to her legs. "V/hat am I doing here, David?" she asked sincerely. "I'm your wife. I assumed that meant I was part of a family that also included your two children. It's not what I would have originally chosen for myself but I have always accepted your children because they're a part of you, and the three of you belong to the same package. I assumed Td become part of that package. God knows, I've always been included when it meant picking them up from somewhere, or cooking them dinner or looking after them for a weekend, or spending time with them when you've been busy—working late." She stopped. "Now, I find out that my status is no better than a housekeeper's. I can provide for certain of their physical needs but I sure as hell better not interfere in anything important."