A Little Help from Above

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A Little Help from Above Page 15

by Saralee Rosenberg


  “And I’ve always said a good attitude is everything.” Shelby smiled.

  “Since when?” Aunt Roz sniffed.

  “Oh no.” Lauren held her breath. Was the war of words starting already? She counted to three, but miraculously, Shelby curbed her acid tongue. The cease-fire was holding.

  “What are you doing down here?” Lauren whispered as she wheeled Aunt Roz toward a vacant table. “What happened to your nail appointment?”

  “I couldn’t find the damn car keys. That’s what happened.”

  “Oh, God,” Lauren could barely contain a smile. “With all the craziness in Dr. Weiner’s room, I forgot to tell you that you left them on the table when we were down here with Irma so I just grabbed them. You must have freaked when you couldn’t find them.”

  “Oh, please. It takes a lot more than lost keys to get me worked up.” If you only knew how close I came to jumping in front of a car because I couldn’t get out of this place.

  “This okay?” A gleeful Lauren stopped at an empty table, hoping Shelby wouldn’t be picky.

  “Fine. Fine. Anywhere.” Aunt Roz tried shifting in the confining wheelchair. “I’m just so happy to be out in the open, you could put me anywhere.”

  Don’t tempt me, Shelby thought. Still, she managed to act gracious while wondering how long she could maintain her composure now that Lauren had abandoned her to cootchy-coo every baby in sight. Which left Shelby fending for herself when making conversation with Aunt Roz.

  But after a few minutes of working in the trenches alone, Shelby realized it was getting harder to avoid the dozens of land mines, otherwise known as personal questions. For someone like Aunt Roz, who was so masterful at keeping her own secrets, it amazed Shelby that the woman had no clue others might also want the details of their life to remain private. Yet she pumped Shelby as if she were the last gas station for miles. Was she seeing anyone? Did she like her job? Was she seeing anyone? Did she have enough money? Was she seeing anyone?

  It was one time Shelby would have welcomed listening to the woman drone on about her own problems. It would have been less exhausting than fending off every question with three-word answers. “I’m not sure.” “I don’t know.” “Is that right?”

  Finally, when it became apparent to Aunt Roz that Private Shelby was not going to share, she moved on. “You know what came in the mail a few weeks ago?” she asked.

  “I give up,” Shelby yawned. “What?”

  “An invitation for your thirty-fifth nursery school reunion.”

  “That’s absurd. I’ve never heard of such a thing. And who said you could open my mail?”

  “It wasn’t addressed to you, smartie pants. It was addressed to the parents of…”

  “Well I hope you threw it away. I wouldn’t be caught dead at something like that.”

  “Why not? You never know who’ll be there. You could meet someone nice.”

  “First of all, I have no interest in finding out the kids who peed in their pants every day are now Internet billionaires. Secondly, I’ve gained at least a hundred pounds since then.”

  Aunt Roz shook her head. “Such a meshugeneh with the weight…”

  “You hungry, Mommy?” Lauren finally rejoined them.

  “I’m okay. Maybe a little water or juice. All those antibiotics make my mouth so dry.”

  “I’ll go!” Shelby jumped up, delighted it was already intermission. A few more minutes of chitchat and she could be on her way. “Lauren, explain to her why nursery school reunions are a stupid idea.”

  “No, they’re not,” Lauren said. “That’s how my friend Elise met her husband. And who knows. Maybe you’ll run into Matty Lieberman.”

  Shelby stopped rummaging through her pocketbook for her wallet. “Why would you think I’d be looking for him?”

  “Stacy Alter told me. I ran into her at Blockbuster yesterday.”

  Shelby winced. This was why she could never live here in Yentaville. On the other hand, Lauren might be right. Both Matty and she had gone to Temple Judea’s Early Learning Center. Even if he hadn’t registered to attend the reunion, he might be on their mailing list.

  “Did you save the invitation?” Shelby coughed.

  “I don’t remember.” Aunt Roz chuckled. “Check the desk drawer in the kitchen.”

  “Great. Okay then. Who wants orange juice?”

  Shelby returned to the table to find Lauren and Aunt Roz in a huddle and suddenly felt queasy. There was something about the way those two connected that always led to trouble. It was more than a paranoid conspiracy theory, it was fact. Whenever they looked this cozy, a major storm was brewing. She could practically feel the Kansas dust kicking up.

  “Here you go.” Shelby took a deep breath, handing Lauren the juice cup. “You give this to her. I’ve already spilled one thing today.”

  “Sure.” Lauren smiled. “This is working out even better than I expected.”

  “Oh, I know,” Shelby whispered back. “I’m having a ball.”

  Then Lauren put the straw in Aunt Roz’s mouth and lit the match that could have started another Chicago fire. “I was just telling Mommy about my problems because of the DES.”

  “Uh-huh,” Shelby said. “Aunt Roz, do you remember anything about the pills our mother took?”

  “Sure, I remember. She took them for almost a year, and Granny Bea would laugh because they were so tiny. Not like her high blood pressure medication, which could choke a horse. She’d say, ‘What good are those? They look like candy.’ But your mother took them every day while she was pregnant, and that’s how we got our little Lauren. Such a beautiful punim.”

  “Thank you.” Lauren smiled lovingly. “Anyway, I was explaining how the doctors have pretty much said it would be impossible for me to have a baby of my own and what a lot of women in my position do is use a surrogate.”

  “Uh-huh.” Shelby shivered, signaling Lauren not to go down this road again.

  “Personally, I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Aunt Roz nodded. “And so unselfish. Did you know even Abraham and Sarah used a surrogate? That’s how they had their first son, Ishmael.”

  “Really?” Shelby searched her bag for gum. “And when did you become a Bible scholar?”

  “After Daddy and I started taking classes with the rabbi. Such an interesting man.”

  “Ever take an ethics course?”

  Aunt Roz flinched. “What for? We don’t even cheat on our taxes. Now your uncle Marty. He should take a class like that.”

  “Anyway.” Lauren waved. “As I was saying, a lot of women use friends or family as their surrogate, rather than paying a complete stranger.”

  “Friends are good.” Shelby nodded. “You have a lot of those. What about Elise Finklestein? I remember her as the real mother earth type.”

  “No. She had two tough pregnancies, and Mitch and her are sort of on the rocks.”

  “What about Sari Wishnick? She’s a very pretty girl.”

  “She’s diabetic.” Lauren drummed on the table. “Too high-risk.”

  “Okay, then. What about that girl who you worked with at Macy’s? The one who was built like a Mack truck? She could probably carry triplets.”

  “Who? Robyn Nagel? She’d never do it. She’s single and totally into her career.”

  “Well so am I. Why doesn’t that disqualify me?”

  “Because, Shel,” Lauren whispered, “if I can’t use my own eggs, I’d at least want my baby to have some of our genetic material.”

  “If you ask me, you should at least think about it,” Aunt Roz stuck her nose in.

  “We didn’t ask you,” Shelby said firmly.

  “All I’m saying is, every once in a while it wouldn’t hurt you to do something nice for your sister. That’s all.”

  “Excuse me.” Shelby bit her lip. “But, I believe the definition of being nice to a sister is lending her your Manolo Blahniks for the night, or treating her to a facial. It does not generally include screwing her husband.” She caught
Aunt Roz’s good eye. “That, I believe, is called adultery.”

  “Oh! Is that the problem?” Lauren’s face lit up. “You think you have to…with Avi?”

  “There is no problem, Lauren. All you need to do is go buy a dozen eggs at your nearest infertility clinic, mingle them in a nice, Mikasa dish with Avi’s sperm, then stick the ones that take into a nineteen-year-old who needs the money!”

  “What kind of way is that to talk to a sister?” Aunt Roz tried pointing her cast in Shelby’s face. “If my sister was alive, may she rest in peace, I would never turn my back on her.”

  Shelby buried her face in her hands, then looked up. “Give me a fucking break, Aunt Roz. I don’t ever recall you being nominated for Sister of the Year.”

  “How dare you? No one was more devoted to your mother than I was.”

  “Some devotion,” Shelby mumbled. “You slept with her husband, for God’s sake.”

  “Shelby!” Lauren covered Aunt Roz’s ears. “Don’t be mean. They were already married.”

  “Like hell!”

  “Oh, my God. Stop it!” Lauren cried. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  Shelby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I know exactly what I’m saying. Ask her yourself. Go on. Ask her if while Mommy was dying, she was sleeping with Daddy, got pregnant with Eric, then passed him off as our first cousin.”

  “Shelby, what is wrong with you?” Lauren gasped. “It’s like you’ve got that thing I saw on 20/20. Tourette’s Syndrome. You say the most outrageous things for no good reason.”

  “I wish I was making this up,” Shelby’s hands shook. “But I’m not. Am I, Aunt Roz?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She looked down. “Lauren’s right. You just say whatever the hell you want. Big deal if you hurt someone’s feelings.”

  “Is that what you think? That I entertain myself by dreaming up these outrageous tales? Believe me. I know what I’m saying. Every word. Lauren, look at me. Ever wonder why Eric has Daddy’s build and Daddy’s nose?”

  “Sheer coincidence!” Aunt Roz cried. “You know my cousin Abe? He’s a clone of his mother’s stepbrother. No relation. How dare you make such an accusation? You were a child.”

  “Ten, actually, and excellent in math. So let’s review, class. My mother got sick in June of 1969. You moved in to help take care of us in July. By Thanksgiving your stomach was so big Lauren asked if you ate the turkey and you said no, you were having a baby. I asked if you had a husband and you said, maybe one day. Mommy died in late December, Eric was born in May, and before Daddy had a chance to pick out the headstone, you were the new Mrs. Larry Lazarus.”

  “That proves nothing.” Aunt Roz waved her arm cast. “It was no secret I was single when I got pregnant. The relationship just didn’t work out. That’s all.”

  “Sure it did. The man you were in a relationship with was Daddy. While he was still married to your sister.”

  Lauren looked from Aunt Roz to Shelby and back, her bottom lip trembling. “Are you saying…they had an affair? That Eric really is related to us?”

  “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.” Shelby folded her arms.

  “Oh, God. That means he’s our first cousin, our stepbrother, and our half-brother!”

  “Bingo! Woody Allen’s got nothing on us!”

  Aunt Roz gazed out the window. “It wasn’t anything like you said.”

  “Yes it was.” Shelby pounded the table. “I saw how you looked at him all googly-eyed. I saw how you trapped him so you could have the big house and the fancy car…”

  “For your information, your mother thought she was settling when she married your father. I loved him the minute I met him.” Aunt Roz cried softly.

  Lauren looked on in disbelief. She didn’t know whom to hate more. Shelby for the truth, or Aunt Roz for the deceit. “How come you never told me, Shel?”

  “Because you love Aunt Roz. You never would have believed me.”

  Lauren’s eyes welled up in response. “How long…have you known?”

  “I don’t know. Forever. I mean to me it was so obvious. When Eric was born, all of a sudden the guest room became the nursery. And when I asked Daddy where Aunt Roz was going to sleep now, he said the living room. But once I left my library book on the couch to see if it got moved, and the next morning it was exactly where I’d left it.”

  Lauren wept into a tissue.

  “Then, once I was helping Aunt Roz change Eric’s diaper and I asked where Eric’s daddy was and she looked at me like how did I know there had to be a daddy to get a baby? Like I was an idiot. But when she wouldn’t answer me, that’s when I knew.”

  “Wow. Even then you had these great instincts.”

  “Thank you.” Shelby blushed. She’d never really thought about how or when she’d first realized she had the inbred ability to be a reporter, but Lauren was right. It was in her blood.

  Lauren looked over at a dazed Aunt Roz. “How dumb do I feel? I had no idea.”

  “This is the thanks I get for keeping the family together,” Aunt Roz muttered.

  “But let me ask you something, and don’t be insulted,” Lauren said wistfully. “You don’t actually know for sure that you’re right? I mean you don’t have proof, proof.”

  Shelby nodded. “You want to know what it is?”

  “Only if it’s not, you know, gross.”

  “Remember two years ago when my apartment got robbed, and my passport and credit cards were stolen?”

  “Not really,” Lauren shrugged.

  “Yes, you do. It was around the time I was going to Rome and needed my passport. Which I couldn’t replace without my birth certificate, which was also stolen. So when I flew home for the High Holidays, I went searching in the attic for the original. But when I found the envelope with the birth certificates, there were four of them. One for me, one for you, and two for Eric.”

  “Why two?” Lauren nibbled at a hang nail.

  “The first one listed Lawrence Joseph Lazarus as his father,” she paused. “And the other one said, ‘Father Unknown.’”

  “Oh my God. I always thought he was a Lazarus because Daddy adopted him.”

  “Nope.”

  “And two years ago…that’s when you stopped speaking to us…” Lauren looked away, trying not to hyperventilate.

  “Yep.”

  “I think I’m going to puke.”

  “See? See what you’ve done?” Aunt Roz suddenly tried inching closer to Shelby to smack her with her cast. “You made your sister sick, and you spoiled my big day out. I always said you were the bad seed.”

  “Me?” Shelby cried out. “Why am I the bad seed? You betrayed my mother, lied to her children, then covered it up for thirty years. All I did was tell the truth.”

  “Take me upstairs, Lauren. I never want to see my niece again as long as I live.”

  “In a minute.” Lauren’s back stiffened. “I’m sorry, Shel,” she said, hugging her. “I feel terrible that you’ve been carrying this burden all alone. But at least it all makes sense now. I mean why you’re so mad at the world and everything.”

  “I’m not mad at the world, Lauren. Just my family, the entire medical establishment, the Republican Party, men, people who insist on bringing cranky babies into fine restaurants—”

  “I want to go now,” Aunt Roz interrupted. “I’m suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.”

  “Join the crowd.” Lauren wheeled her away. “Join the crowd.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It seemed only fitting, if not ironic, that for the next three days, Long Island got socked with rain. Not the on again, off again showers that annoyed hairdressers and crossing guards, but the windy, street-flooding downpours that made Shelby feel like Noah. Especially as she felt too immobilized to do anything other than hole up in the guesthouse ark and lick her wounds.

  She wondered how long it took Noah to decide he didn’t give a rat’s ass if the sun ever came out again.
Self-pity could have that effect. As could having a grandmother who’d filled a young, innocent head with the mishegas that whenever it rained this heavily, it meant God was crying because the children were bad.

  Maybe Granny Bea Good was right, Shelby thought as she tried peering out the window through the obliterated view. She had behaved badly. And although she wasn’t totally sorry she spilled the family’s secret beans, she had to admit her timing sucked.

  In her defense, however, surely a jury of her peers would have found her innocent of all charges, based on the fact she was provoked and the act was by no means premeditated. But when word came through Avi that the doctors were as puzzled by Aunt Roz’s sudden decline as they had been the other day by her miraculous recovery, Shelby knew she was to blame.

  And, too, there was the matter of Lauren’s onset of depression. Once again, Avi, the host of Bad Headline News, told Shelby he had never seen his wife so blue. Given Lauren’s strong affinity for family, it was of no help for her to learn that her odd but otherwise stable childhood had been based on a fraud. This on top of the fact she might never have her own family was simply more than she could bear. Lauren, too, had gone home to hole up.

  Shelby left several messages for Lauren to call her, to no avail. Then for reasons even Shelby did not understand, she dialed Aunt Roz’s hospital room. Also to no avail, for Aunt Roz had the nurse hang up the phone the instant she heard Shelby on the line. Although Aunt Roz did manage to relay to Maria she wanted Shelby out of the guesthouse, and out of her life. First, however, she wanted Maria to remind Shelby to look in the kitchen drawer for the invitation to her nursery school reunion, which in Aunt Roz’s opinion, she should definitely attend.

  No way was Shelby going to look for that stupid invitation. But on day two of solitary confinement, she was bored enough to venture into the kitchen to look for a little company. Even a chat with Avi would suffice. Pity he had cut back on his visits after the spigot of neighbors’ CARE packages was turned off. Why stop by if the fridge wasn’t filled with tuna casseroles and knishes?

 

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