The Rooftop Party

by Ellen Meister

  “Maybe they knew not to bother trying since you were on the air,” Ashlee suggested.

  Yes, Dana thought. That made sense. They were probably just stalling until they knew she was ready.

  But Dana wasn’t going to wait to hear from them. She ignored the message from her sister and called Megan. But once again, it went straight to voice mail. Dana could only assume her friend forgot to turn her phone back on after the show. She left a frantic message to call her back as soon as possible.

  She tried Ari next, and almost threw her phone in frustration when he didn’t pick up. What the hell!

  “Why can’t I reach anyone?” she cried.

  “Sometimes people don’t get messages,” Ashlee said. “You know that. Batteries die, phones fall into toilets. But you’ll hear from them. I promise.”

  Dana tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that, no matter what, she would see Megan in person in just a couple of hours. Because even if her phone was turned off, she’d be coming to the company’s holiday party. She’d have Jamie with her, of course, but that didn’t matter. Dana was going to tell her the truth, and make sure she didn’t get on that plane.

  She was in the middle of changing out of the Bastina loungewear and into her streetwear when her phone rang. She dashed for it, but it was neither Megan nor Ari. It was Chelsea.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Dana said. “I was just going to call you back.”

  “Thank god,” Chelsea said, when she heard Dana’s voice. “Thank god you’re there.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been trying to reach you...or Dad...or Jennifer...no one was picking up.”

  Join the club, Dana thought, but kept it to herself. Chelsea was too distraught to hear about Dana’s problems. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I have a fever. I thought it was nothing, but my OB wants me to go the hospital for something called a nonstress test.”

  “I don’t understand,” Dana said.

  “It’s this thing where they monitor the fetal heartbeat. My doctor is worried because I have a hundred-and-one fever but no other symptoms and she thinks it might be an infection. I said it’s probably just something I caught from Wesley, who just got over a stomach bug. But she’s worried. I mean, she tried to sound calm but she wouldn’t be sending me to the hospital if she wasn’t concerned.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “Can you come out here and babysit?”

  “Me?”

  “I know it’s a pain in the ass, but I don’t know what else to do. Brandon is coming with me to the hospital and I have no one to stay with Wesley.”

  “But I’m so far away,” Dana said. “Wouldn’t it be better if you asked one of your neighbors?”

  “They all have kids, Dana. And this thing Wesley had is like the plague. No one wants to go near him. I tried Dad and Jennifer first, because I know how busy you are. But I couldn’t reach them.”

  Dana was about to put up an argument. To explain about the holiday party and the murder and Megan’s plans. But her sister started crying, and it suddenly seemed like none of it mattered.

  “I’m scared,” Chelsea said through her tears. “I’m scared I’m going to lose this baby.”

  “I’ll take a car service,” Dana said. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.” And then Dana’s stomach dropped like a rock. Because somehow, some way, she would have to make it back to the city to keep Megan from getting on that plane.

  37

  Now Dana had two more people she desperately needed to reach: her father and Jennifer. Where the hell was everyone? It was as if the universe was conspiring to keep her on edge. There was nothing she could do but leave a message and explain the situation, pleading with them to come and relieve her so she could head back to Manhattan.

  When she reached her sister’s house, Chelsea and Brandon were already standing by the front door in their coats. Dana leaned her crutch against the wall.

  “Thank you for doing this,” Chelsea said, as she wrapped her arms around Dana. “I’m afraid I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

  “It’s okay,” Dana said. “Where’s Wesley?”

  “The den. I put him in front of a cartoon to distract him. There’s macaroni and cheese in a pot on the stove. I tried to get him to eat but—”

  “Macaroni and cheese? I thought he had a stomach bug.”

  “It passed, and the doctor said to give him his favorite food. He said whatever he would eat was okay.” She shrugged apologetically. “So I asked what he wanted and—”

  “It’s alright,” Dana said, understanding that her sister’s maternal guilt never got put on hold. Not even when she was on her way to the hospital. “I’ll work it out.”

  Brandon gave Dana a hug. “We appreciate this,” he said.

  Dana looked into her sister’s worried face, and laid a hand on her cheek. “Let me know what happens.”

  Chelsea nodded. “See if you can get him to eat,” she said, nodding toward the den. “He needs something in his stomach.”

  “I promise.”

  After they left, Dana stood by the door for a moment, absorbing her sister’s pain. Chelsea was so worried about losing this baby. It was almost like she was already in mourning. Dana closed her eyes and tried to send her sister strength. And please, she added. Please. Let the baby be okay.

  Dana walked into the den, forgoing the crutch and putting careful weight on her foot. Wesley sat cross-legged on the floor, a bag of gummy worms in his lap as he stared up at the television screen. Dana was pretty sure that wasn’t on the menu.

  He barely glanced her way. “Hi, Aunt Dana,” he said, as if it there was nothing unusual about her presence in his home on a Friday evening while his parents were rushing out to the hospital.

  “What do you have there?” she asked, pointing at the gummy worms, though she knew perfectly well what they were.

  “Mom said I could.”

  She laughed, because it was such an obvious lie. Chelsea might have been a little lax on the nutritional content of dinner, but she wasn’t going to let him fill up on sugar. “Let’s each take one and then put it away, okay?”

  That seemed like a pretty good deal to Wesley, and Dana congratulated herself on her negotiating skills. Who said this parenting stuff was hard?

  After taking the bag of gummies away, she sat on the floor next to him and watched the brightly colored cartoon, featuring adorable dogs with expressive, oversized eyes. Wesley was in a trance, his milky skin bluish in the glow of the TV, his eyes wide and gleaming.

  When it was over, she clicked off the television and struggled into a standing position. “Time for supper.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Well, I am,” she said, figuring he might eat if she put a plate of food in front of him.

  He shrugged. “So?”

  “Come keep me company. I’ll be lonely in the kitchen all by myself.”

  “I want to watch more Paw Patrol,” he whined.

  “We can watch it after dinner.”

  “Please?” His eyes filled with the pain of longing. He was pouring it on, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t burst into bona fide tears if she misstepped. She sensed he was on the brink.

  Dana knew Chelsea wouldn’t have given in, but she figured if her negotiation tactic had worked once, it could work again, and so she agreed to one more cartoon before dinner.

  As they watched, she held tight to her cell phone, certain she would hear something soon. But the later it got, the edgier she became. What if she never heard back from Megan? What if she didn’t hear from her father and she was stuck here until it was too late?

  Then she had an idea. Jennifer was a working cardiologist. Maybe she had an emergency service that had a way to reach her? But
no. The service would just call her cell, which Dana had already tried. If it was turned off, it meant someone else was on call.

  There was nothing to do but wait. As the cartoon wound down, her heart began to sink. Maybe the best she could hope for was to ask Ashlee to waylay Megan, and tell her she had to call before she left for Mexico. But there was no guarantee Megan would follow through. Maybe she’d be in such a hurry she’d head for the airport with the intention of texting after she landed. And then what? And what would happen if Jamie was in Mexico when he discovered that Dana knew the truth...and that he’d be arrested if he returned home?

  Dana took a deep breath and tried to tell herself it was all going to be okay, and that she was just letting her anxiety spiral out of control. Then her phone rang at last. It was her father.

  “Dad!” she cried, as she walked into the kitchen so she could explain the situation out of Wesley’s earshot. It was the first time they spoke since the fight at Thanksgiving, but of course that meant little. They never worked through their differences. They just ignored them. Dana launched into an explanation of what was going on, but before she could get too much out, her father cut her off.

  “I know,” he said. “I got Chelsea’s message. Jennifer was giving a talk at a symposium and we had our phones off. But we’re on our way there.”

  “Oh, thank god. I have to get back into the city.” She knew how selfish that sounded and added, “It’s kind of an emergency. Do you know what time you’ll get here?”

  “Friday night traffic,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can.”

  She made him promise to text her when he was getting close, and got off the phone. By the time she went back into the den, the cartoon episode had ended and another one began.

  “Okay, let’s put this on hold,” she said, shutting off the television. Dana wanted to have Wesley fed and in his pajamas by the time her father and Jennifer arrived. If not, she knew exactly how she would look to her father—like the self-absorbed, irresponsible, useless daughter who couldn’t even manage to take care of her nephew before rushing back into her own life.

  “Hey!” Wesley protested. “I was watching that.”

  “Guess what?” she said. “Grandpa and Jennifer are coming over!”

  “I don’t care!”

  She put out her hand. “Can you show me how the stove works?”

  “I’m four-and-a-half. I don’t know how the stove works.”

  “Maybe we can figure it out together.”

  He hesitated.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get this over with so we can come back and watch more of this Poor Control.”

  “Paw Patrol,” he corrected, and then went with her into the kitchen.

  The macaroni and cheese was congealed in the pot. After letting Wesley point out where the knobs were, she turned on the heat, but worried it would just turn too dry and sticky. She considered adding a little milk, but decided the microwave might be a better option. So she shoveled some into a bowl and nuked it for a few seconds. She put it in front of Wesley with a spoon.

  “Can you tell me if this is okay?” she said.

  Wesley ignored the food and rested his face on his hand, looking so sad it broke her heart. She understood, then, that his behavior was simply his way of coping with a bad situation. She knew Chelsea and Brandon hadn’t told him what was really happening, but clearly he sensed something was wrong. She brushed his hair from his forehead.

  “Your mom and dad will be home soon,” she said.

  He picked up a spoonful of food and flung it across the kitchen. It narrowly missed her, hitting the cabinet behind her head. A clump of the orangey goo stuck to the cherrywood in gravity-defying tenacity.

  “Wesley! That wasn’t very nice!”

  He began to cry. “I want my mommy.”

  The blob of food plopped to the floor as if in sympathy.

  Dana approached her nephew. “I know, sweetie. I know,” she said, hugging him. “I promise she’s going to be home soon and everything will be fine.”

  She let him cry and rubbed his small, warm back. When his sobs subsided into hiccups, she asked, “Is there something else you want for dinner?”

  He took a jerking breath. “I guess I’ll have macaroni and cheese.”

  As he ate, Dana cleaned up the mess. And when he was done, he seemed like an entirely different child.

  “Pajamas?” she asked.

  He agreed, and they went upstairs, where she ran him a bath. She rolled up her sleeves and washed his hair, letting him splash her a bit. He got into his pajamas and she rubbed a towel over his hair before brushing it in place. Then she helped him with the toothpaste and watched as he carefully brushed his teeth.

  “Do you want me to read you a book?” she asked.

  “Can I watch one more Paw Patrol?”

  “Sure,” she said. He’d been so good she wanted to reward him.

  By the time her father and Jennifer arrived, everything was perfect. Wesley was calm and happy. He was fed, bathed and in his pajamas, the fresh smell of shampoo rising off of him. The kitchen was clean.

  “I gave him dinner,” Dana said, as she led Jennifer and her father into the den. “And a bath. He’s ready for bed.”

  She surveyed the scene through their eyes. A beautiful little boy, all scrubbed and safe and well-cared-for. Dana beamed. She had done it. Even her father looked impressed.

  Her Uber was waiting outside, so Dana kissed them goodbye. As she was heading toward the door she heard Kenneth say to Jennifer, “She let him watch this garbage?”

  38

  Oh, the traffic! Dana wanted to kick herself for taking an Uber instead of the Long Island Railroad, but it was too late now. They were approaching the Midtown Tunnel into Manhattan when she got a text from Ashlee.

  Megan arrived 10 mins ago. Made her promise to wait for you.

  Dana wrote back:

  TY. On my way!

  A few minutes later her phone pinged again. Dana looked down expecting another text from Ashlee, but it was from her brother-in-law, Brandon, whom she had messaged earlier to let him know all was well at home and that Dad and Jennifer were with Wesley.

  Baby seems okay. Chelsea on IV antibiotics. Will be in touch later.

  Dana reread it several times. It sounded like good news. She texted back: Give her a kiss for me, and returned to fretting about the traffic.

  The car continued crawling forward into the brightly lit tunnel, and they were stuck behind a driver with Connecticut plates who left far too much space between his car and the one in front of him. It was maddening. Did he think a plane was going to need a place to land, right here in the Midtown Tunnel? Dana wished her driver would at least honk.

  When they finally emerged from the fluorescence of the underground tube into the darkness of the New York night, they were behind the same slow driver as they tried to inch their way toward the West Side. She texted Ashlee.

  Almost there! Make sure she doesn’t leave.

  “Please hurry!” she said to the driver.

  At last they arrived. Dana pulled her single crutch out of the car after her, but didn’t bother using it. She carried it horizontally as she hurried across the lobby of the Shopping Channel to Studio E, a cavernous, unused space the staff nicknamed the planetarium, as the massive, high-ceilinged room was normally pitch dark. Today, the tinkling of a piano playing “Carol of the Bells” poured from the maw, the pace becoming more frenetic as Dana approached. When she reached the open doors, she saw that the expansive interior had been transformed. The room was softly lit, with Christmas decorations along the walls, and pots of poinsettias adorning the red-draped tables. A grand piano had been brought in, which Dana imagined took quite a bit of planning and effort. The pianist was elegantly dressed in tails and a white tie.

  People were lined up with plates
at the long buffet set up on the left side of the room. Directly to her right, by the door, there was a bar that looked almost exactly like the one from the rooftop party. Margaux was there, next to the same male bartender, wearing the same coordinated uniforms, complete with yellow bow ties.

  Dana did a quick scan of the room and her eyes registered all the colors. She saw Charles Honeycutt and his wife, Victoria, and noticed that his red pocket square coordinated with her gown. Felicia and Jo stood by the bar. They were both in black cocktail dresses, but Jo’s had hot pink tulle netting peeking out from the hem. Sherry Zidel sat at a table next to her partner, Anna, sipping a brown cocktail. At the gold-draped buffet tables, dozens of people were lined up for food, including Eleanor and her husband, Phil, as well as Vanessa, Gemma, Lorenzo, Brenda, Jessalyn and Robért. Dana’s eyes continued down the line until she spotted Ashlee, waving furiously at her. And then she saw them—Megan and Jamie—standing in front of her assistant.

  Dana put her crutch back under her arm and crossed the room to them.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” Dana said to Megan.

  “I’m so sorry!” her friend said. “I forgot to turn my phone back on. What’s going on with your sister? Is she okay?”

  Dana glanced at Ashlee and understood. Her assistant had told Megan that Dana had to rush out to Long Island for Chelsea, and Megan just assumed that’s what Dana had been calling her about.

  “I don’t know yet,” Dana said. “I think so. She’s still at the hospital.”

  Megan reached over for a hug. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  “I need to talk to you,” Dana said into her ear. “It’s important.”

  “Can we get a quick bite first?” Megan asked. “I’m starving.”

  Normally, Megan would have picked up on Dana’s despair, but she was clearly giddy with excitement over her impending trip, and all hyped up on Christmas.

  Dana shook her head. “This is urgent.”