“Hiya, Sheik,” Cee Cee said softly now to the soundly sleeping old man. “Long time, no see.”
Aunt Neetie looked as if there might be tears in her eyes when she walked out of the lobby of her building to greet Nina’s taxi. She was
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a slim woman with hair dyed too black, and skin that was a kind of muddy brown and very wrinkled from the sun.
“Well, aren’tyou a big girl!” she said. Nina thought by the way she walked toward the taxi with her hand in her pocket that maybe she was about to pull out money and pay the cabdriver, but when she made no move to, Nina opened her pink plastic “ttello Kitty” wallet, took out some of the money Cee Cee had given her, and remembered to add a tip before she handed it to the driver.
As the cab pulled away Neetic explained away her watery
“I’m allergic to hibiscus,” she said. “And it’s all around now.” Nina’s suitcase sat on the front step of the building where the cabdriver had dropped it. “Can you manage that bag all by yourself or shall I get Uncle Herb to come down? The Cuban doorman is off today. He says one of his kids is in the hospital. The little spic has so damn many kids there’s always an excuse,” she said, and then laughed a forced throaty laugh.
Nina picked up the heavy suitcase and dragged it toward the front door of the building.
“You’re the picture of your mother,” Neetie said, opening one of the glass doors into the foyer of the building to let her in and holding it open. The airconditioning brought goose bumps to Nina’s little arms.
“Thank you,” Nina said, pulling the suitcase over the threshold and across the marble-floored lobby toward the elevator. The building smelled of onions cooking and the odor made Nina, who hadn’t eaten anything on the flight from Los Angeles, feel hungry and queasy at the same time. The elevator was so small, Neetie and Nina and the suitcase just fit inside. There was a notice taped to the elevator wall, listing a schedule of events which Nina read to herself as she and Neetie took the ride up.
MONDAY NIGHT - SEVEN P.M. BINGO (REC ROOM SEVEN O’ CL0CK) REFRESHMENTS WILL BE SERVED.
WEDNESDAY NIGHT - BOOK DISCUSSION - THIS MONTH AIRPORT.
The elevator doors opened and Nina pushed her body against the suitcase and shoved it into the hall. “It’s the third door on the right,” Neetie said, walking ahead of her with a kind of stoop-shouldered
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walk. “Your Uncle Herb is watching television as usual. Herbieee,” she yelled out, opening the door to her apartment, “Roberta’s daughter is here.”
Nina stood in the doorway of the apartment. Neetie, who had obviously been unable to part with the furniture from her larger home, had managed to cram it into the small apartment rooms. After a minutc a skinny little man with whitc hair, wearing trousers and a white sleeveless undershirt that revealed his white armpit hair, opened a door to a back room through which Nina could hear a television show blasting. The man nodded and made a few noises that sounded oddly like burps, and then instead of a voice, out came croaking noises that sounded as if they might have been, “Nice to see you.” Nina took a step back. Something was wrong.
“A couple of years ago he had a laryngectomy. Cancer of the voice box. Had to have it removed,” Neetie said as if she was talking about a lamp or a chair instead of Uncle Herbie, who nodded in Nina’s direction during the narration, watching her reaction carefully. “Now he speaks through a hole in his throat,” Neetie said. “I never mentioned it in my letters because I didn’t want to worry you.” Then she asked with amusement in her voice, “What’s the matter, did he scare you ?”
Nina looked at her uncle’s neck where she saw the hole and then into his eyes where she could see that her answer was important to
him, so she lied. “Oh, no,” she said, then thought, I’m going to vomit. “Isn’t she big, Herbie?”
“Burp, burp, she sure is,” is what it sounded like he said.
Nina’s sick feeling must have filled her face, because Neetie said, “Don’t worry, you can’t catch it. It’s from smoking too many cigarettes. You don’t smoke, do you?” She was making what Nina could tell by the strange little smile on her face was her idea of a joke.
“Burp, burp. Leave the kid alone, Anita. Here, I’ll take you to your room,” Uncle Herbie said, walking over and picking up Nina’s suitcase, and with a wag of his head to the side invited her to follow. Now she had to be alone with him. Obligingly she followed him down a narrow hallway and into the guest bedroom, the door to which, when he opened it, bumped into one of two beds with headboards that matched a large dresser with mirrors over it, two night tables, and a chair. On one of the tables there was a small framed
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photograph of two women and a little girl of about seven or eight years old. Uncle Herbie saw Nina looking at it.
“Burp, burp, it’s your mother and your grandmother and my wife. On the beach in Atlantic City,” she thought he said.
Nina wondered if the picture was taken the year her mother first met Cee Cee there. Uncle Herb put her suitcase on one of the beds. “Burp, burp, bathroom’s just down the hall,” he said. Now she would unpack, and then they would eat dinner. She wondered if when Uncle Herbie ate, some of the food fell out of the little hole, and that thought made her feel really sick. Uncle Herb burped some more and said some more words as he pointed out the closet, the chest of drawers, the clock radio, and Nina tried to be polite.and not look at the hole, and nod, and hope he’d leave the room. When he finally did and closed the door behind him, she lay face-down on the bed trying to pull herself together, but the pain of disappointment rushed to her eyes. This was certainly not the Aunt Neetie and Uncle Herb she had conjured up in those moments when she thought about escaping from Cee Cee, times when Cee Cee embarrassed her so horribly, like when she was dating some really awful guy who was too young for her with hair down to his shoulders, or that one who wore the gold jewelry and smoked eight cigars a day. Or those times she came for parent-teacher meetings to school wearing those Halloweeny thrift shop outfits that made her look like a cartoon character.
Nina would pacify herself on those days by writing and mailing letters to the couple she liked to think of as her “real family.” An elegant older couple, living in a building she knew from their return address was called the Versailles, which she had always pictured to be like the PlazaHotel, where she and Cee Cee had stayed last year when Cee Cee had to go to New York for meetings. Surely there would be a dining room with chandeliers and a violinist who played during tea in the lobby. And the aunt and uncle would take her in, clucking their tongues with understanding at what an ordeal it must have been these last few years for her to put up with all the craziness in Cee Cee’s life.
Of course after she mailed the feverishly written letters and sent them off to the Versailles, the tide at home would turn because Cee Cee would eventually either dump or get dumped by the guy, or do something marvelous just for Nina like having the Muppets as guests
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on her show and inviting Nina’s entire class to he her guests at the taping, and things would be all right between them again for a while, but soon they’d fall apart again and when they did, Nina would get through it by picturing what her life would eventually be like when she came to live with her real family at the Versailles.
There was a tap at the door, and Aunt Neetie came in smiling. “Well, you must be worn out from all that traveling,” she said to Nina as she walked over to the suitcase, opened it, and removed the clothing piece by piece, moving back and forth to the chest of drawers to put them away. “I guess Miss Cee Cee didn’t want to come over here with you because she couldn’t stand to look me in the eye because of what she did to me, and I’m sure you know the story.”
Nina knew which story Neetie meant, since over the years Neetie had told her various versions of it in her letters. A
ll this time had gone by since Bertie’s death, and still she wouldn’t let “the story” go. Somehow she always managed to get some dig in about how Cee Cee had tricked Bertie into giving the care of Nina to her and taking it away from Neetie.
“My ass,” Cee Cee had flared furiously when Nina had mentioned it the first time. “Nobody tricked anyone. Your mother knew I was the right one and that’s why she let me have you.”
“You know, of course you’re getting to be the age where you can decide you don’t want to be with her anymore. And when you do, you can march right into that courtroom and say, ‘Judge, get me the hell out of that nuthouse.’ And frankly, honey, I hope you do. And that me and your Uncle Herb will still be around to take you. Maybe
move up to the fifth floor to a three-bedroom.”
Nina just nodded.
“And I suppose she’s raising you as a Jew?” Neetie asked now. Nina looked at her curiously, wondering why there was a sneer on her lips, and Neetie took her look to mean yes.
“I thought so. Well, don’t worry, I’m used to Jews. You live in Miami Beach all your life the way I have, all you see are wall-to-wall kikes. And the joke is they think I’m one of them because I have black hair. Sometimes they do jokes to me in Yiddish, can you imagine? Well, I’m not here for the company, honey, I’m here for the climate.” Now she was putting Nina’s pink sundress on a hanger. “I never knew what the hell your gorgeous classy mother ever saw in Cee Cee
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Bloom. I tell you, every time I saw your picture in one of those can dal papers-not that I buy them, but they’re all over the beauty parlor I go to — I wanted to cry. Anyway, let’s talk about happier things. You and I and Herbie are going to have a grand old time. Right?”
Nina didn’t say anything, but when Neetie left the room to check on dinner she opened her little purse, took out the wallet inside and looked at the telephone number Cee Cee had left with her, and considered calling it and begging Cee Cee to come and get her.
“Cecilia,” Nathan said, opening his eyes. “Is it really you?”
“It’s me, Daddy,” she said, looking at the old man in the bed who only bore the slightest resemblance to her memory of her father. And Cecilia, the name he called her. Who was that? The little girl inside of her only he remembered who wasn’t Cee Cee Bloom the star. The ordinary person who had long ago created the character of Cee Cee Bloom. Made up her walk, made up her flashiness, made the choice that she would be tart-tongued and bawdy, outrageous and sexy, while Cecilia, Nathan Bloom’s daughter, watched all of that from the inside, like the puppeteer watches the puppet.
Nathan’s eyes flickered with joy and she took his hand gently. “I’m
dying?” he asked her. “That’s why you came because I’m dying?” How should she answer a question like that? “I just came to see you.”
“You’re doing a show in town here?” he asked her, and she realized he was saying he knew it could only be his imminent death that would
bring her to his side, or business, and she hated that he was right. “I needed to come and talk to you,” she said. “No kidding?” he said, and then winced with pain as he moved himself a little higher on the bed. “I’m not so good, kiddo. I had some
prostate trouble a little hip trouble, now I got chest pains.” “I know. The doctor wants you to go into the hospital.” “Forgetaboutit.”
“Daddy, it could save your life. Give you years and years.”
“Who wants more years?” he asked, making a face that was so familiar because she made it all the time, too. “I had enough years. Your mother, God rest her soul, got a flucky. You know that story?” Cee Cee couldn’t believe it. He was going to tell her a joke. “A guy
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goes to a whoor. Everybody else goes to the whoor gets VD. The doctor tells this guy he didn’t get VD, instead he got a flucky. The guy is scared, because he never heard of such a thing. Then he realizes the doctor meant he ‘got off lucky.’ Your mother got a flucky because she never had to get old. Come to mention it, maybe that’s why I’m still here. Leona would have noodgcd me into an early grave,” he said.
“Daddy, they think you might have a leaky heart valve. If that’s true, they can replace it and you’ll feel good.”
“Leaky, sure. Why wouldn’t it be leaky at my age? You’re old, you’re sick, you die, that’s life.” Cee Cee shook her head and there was silence.
“So since I saw you last you’re a mother?” he said and asked at the same time.
“That’s right. My best friend left her daughter in my care and I’m raising her.”
“Why you?”
“I was the best choice.”
“Oy way,” he said and smiled.
“What does that mean?” Cee Cee asked, annoyed that he had been awake less than three minutes and was already aggravating her.
“I beg your pardon. I was the one who retrieved your turtle from the toilet and sat shivah for all your goldfish. In my mind you’re not a mother.”
Cee Cee flared. “So who was a mother? Leona who drove both of us crazy from morning until night? Grandma who made you walk her from room to room in her house so she could say goodbye to the furniture, and then had the nerve to live so you’d have to do it again the next day and the next for years?”
“Don’t get excited. I’m entitled to an opinion.” “Hey, you know what?” Cee Cee said. “Yeah?”
“Why don’t you come out to Los Angeles and see for yourself what kind of a mother I am.”
I’ll read about it in the paper,” he said.
The nurse Cee Cee had met in the hall came into the room carrying a small metal tray.
“So, Nate. Your famous daughter schlepped here a long way. You
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think maybe you’ll go for a little walk down the hall with her toda)
“No walking noplace. I walked farther in my lifetime than both you put together ever will, so that’s enough walking.”
“Nate, it improves the efficiency of your circulation,” the nurse t him, and when she put the thermometer in his mouth and held 1 wrist, while she looked at her watch to get a pulse rate, with the ha she wasn’t holding he gave her the finger. Cee Cce had to bite her to keep from laughing out loud.
For someone who didn’t like Cee Cee, Aunt Neetie sure made a t thing out of the fact that she not only knew her but that her grer niece Nina lived with her in Hollywood. It was something she hi obviously talked about to her neighbors who sat by the pool at tl Versailles.
“Is that her?” everyone asked, looking hard at Nina. Older people mostly ladies wearing beach hats and bathing suits and jewelry, we lying on lounge chairs or sitting around tables playing cards.
“That’s the little doll,” Neetie said, spreading orange-andblu striped beach towels across two lounge chairs. Then she made tl introductions.
“Say hi to my beloved Mrs. Altschuler and Mrs. Haber.” “This is the one who lives with Cee Cee Bloom?”
“This is the one,” Neetie said, gesturing toward Nina as if she we selling her.
“Oh, that Cee Cee! I’m her biggest fan,” said one of the ladie whose giant saggy breasts were falling like too much pleated fabri over the top of her bathing suit as she leaned forward to Nina to ma her point. “You tell her Mrs. Altschuler, formerly from Clevelan never missed any of her shows or ay of her movies.”
“That goes for me too,” an unintroduced woman who was clearl not one of Neetie’s beloveds announced. She was tiny, with short gra
hair and a smear of pink ointment covering her nose and cheeks. “I’ll mention it,” Nina said.
“Is she in town here?” the woman with the falling breasts asked. “She is,” Neetie answered. “She’s visiting her sick father in a horn on Bay Road. But she’ll probably stop by here,” and she smiled . knowing smile as if to say that she knew a lot about Cee Cee’ schedule.
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The women squealed at the idea. “No! Come here? Anita, you have to call us. My daughter would kill me if Cee Cee Bloom was here and I didn’t talk to her.”
“Well, you know,” Neetie said, “people like Cee Cee are funny about their privacy.., but of course I’ll call you.”
When the women had drifted away and Neetie and Nina were alone, Neetie said to her, “Those two arc widows, rolling in dough. Altschuler’s husband was a lawyer and the other one’s husband was in louvered doors. When they get dolled up at night you could go blind from the glare of the jewelry.” Neetie reached into the straw basket purse where she kept the suntan lotion and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. When she saw Nina’s surprise as she held her hand up to shield the match she was lighting from the wind, she said, “Don’t tell Herbie or he’ll kill me,” then she inhaled and blew out a big puff of smoke. “Believe me, I don’t envy them. I mean what in the hell is jewelry if you don’t have a man, kiddo. Right? Jewelry can’t keep you warm at night.” Nina tried not to picture Uncle Herbie keeping Aunt Neetie, who was puffing away on the cigarette and unbuttoning her white gauze coverup, warm at night. Underneath she wore a black bathing suit and had a very skinny, sagging brown body.
“My husband left me a couple of times. He was even in the pokey more than once, before you were born, when your mother was a kid. For illegal gambling activities. But you want to know what? I got him back every time. And I stashed away plenty of cash during the good years, and had a beautiful house where your grandmother, my sister Rosie, could come and visit, and now this condominium. I got the world on a string, honey.” She puffed away a series of puffs on the
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