Second Acts

by Teri Emory

  “What? Martin left me money?”

  “Oh, yes. A great deal of money. I don’t have a final number yet, but it’ll be several million—”

  Helen’s voice, teary, interrupted. “Sarah, he loved you. In the end, he wanted to do the right thing.”

  Sidney speaking again. “Sarah, are you all right, honey? Is Kevin there? I mean, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to read this to you if you’re alone.”

  “I’m fine, Sidney. Is there more?”

  “Yes. That was just the first page. Here’s page two. ‘I don’t know if Ellie ever mentioned Cassandra, a woman I dated a while back. When she left me, as every woman since you (and including you) has chosen to do, she had a few words to say about why things between us didn’t work out. I’m not going to tell you here everything she said, but I thought you’d appreciate knowing this: Her parting address, a tirade really, sounded as if it could have been written by you. And it made me think, once I stopped trying to blame everything on her, that in the end I wasn’t particularly fair or kind to you, and that my only ex-wife and my only child might always see me as a failure unless I could do something to make up for how I treated them.’

  “‘So here, Sarah, are what may turn out to be my two last gifts to you. The first is an apology and an admission: I wasn’t the world’s best husband, and I won’t make Father of the Year, but I’m admitting that you were completely right about me. You’re not the easiest person to live with, but you tried to make things work. When we were married, I mean. The second part, which I suspect you will enjoy almost as much as the first, is that I’m leaving you a great deal of money. Unless, of course, I outlive you. Who can say? Maybe we’ll both live to see grandchildren and to make each other furious again. But the money is yours, no matter what. After all, you’re the mother of my child. And a great mother at that. Happy birthday and love, Martin.’”

  __________

  When I hung up, I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes. I could almost see Martin’s crooked smile, hear the Brooklyn accent I used to tease him about. After all that had passed between us, I never could have guessed that our final chapter would end the way it began, as a love story.

  I left messages for Doc Shortland and Sally, claiming a personal emergency that would keep me out of the office for a day or two. Then I called Beth.

  “Can you talk fast?” she said. “I’ve got an early appointment.”

  I gave her the highlights of my day so far.

  “My God, Sarah. What happens now?” she said.

  “I assume there will be lots of paperwork, but Sidney seems to think everything will be settled for both Ellie’s inheritance and my—my whatever, in the next few weeks.”

  “Amazing, how one phone call can change your life. Tell me, what did Kevin say?”

  “Kevin?” He hadn’t even crossed my mind since Sidney and Helen’s call.

  “Yes, you remember him—good-looking guy, snappy dresser. Sleeps in your bed.”

  “He’s in Seattle on business.”

  “Normally, I’d say it was too early to call out there, but this is news I think he’d be happy to wake up to.”

  “Maybe later,” I said. I didn’t tell her that I didn’t even know where Kevin was staying in Seattle. I could call his secretary and ask, although . . .

  “Do you want to come up here to be with us until Kevin returns? Jim and I specialize in emotional roller coasters and money management, you know. Kevin can join us whenever he gets back.”

  I hesitated just long enough for Beth to pick up on something about my frame of mind.

  “Sarah, what’s wrong?”

  “Can’t even begin now. Too much for the phone. Thanks for the invite, but I’ll pass on Connecticut for now. Let’s just stick to our plans for brunch this Sunday. Come to think of it, I’m rich! Let’s take a suite overnight at the Plaza.”

  “We should do that one weekend. But not this one. Jim and I have plans.”

  “We need to do our review of your party, too. I had quite a bit to drink, as you may remember, so I’ll be happy to hear from you and Miriam what I may have missed.”

  “I’ve got quite a bit to tell you two myself. I think it’s my turn to pick a restaurant for brunch. By the way, did you get a chance to talk to Gabe Bryant at the party?”

  “The guy with the great smile who was drooling over Miriam?”

  “Miriam’s having breakfast with him on Saturday. He lives near her. From what I hear, he’s good and smitten.”

  “That was fast. And she? I haven’t spoken to her this week.”

  “Intrigued. Flattered. Cautious. The usual Miriam.”

  “Think he’s a possibility?”

  “No way to tell with her. But if she’d allow herself to fall in love again, I’d wish Gabe on her.”

  “Quite an endorsement.”

  “Sarah, I’m looking at the time. I do have to go. Why don’t you give Jim a call and get the name of someone at his company who can walk you through what lies ahead.”

  “I’ll do it. I’m a little dazed . . .”

  “You’ve been a little dazed since I’ve known you. But now you’re dazed and rich. How nice for you, to have some security. Finally.”

  Financial security, yes. But with Kevin . . .?

  “Let me know when and where we are meeting on Sunday,” I said.

  “Hi, Kevin. I’m getting tired of leaving voicemails, but I’m too embarrassed to ask your assistant for the name of your hotel in Seattle. There’s no reason for her to know that you didn’t tell me where you were staying. I need to talk to you.”

  __________

  “Mom? You all right?”

  “Fine, darling. Why?”

  “It’s just unusual for you to call me in the middle of the day. It’s lucky you caught me at home. I’m working on my law school applications. You’re not at work?”

  “Nope, I’m home. Just decided to take the day off. How are you and Doug doing?”

  “Fine. He’s finished his grad school apps. We’re trying not to think about what happens if we don’t get accepted at schools in the same city.”

  “I bet you’ll both get in everywhere. NYU still your first choice?”

  “Mondays and Wednesdays. Tuesday through Thursday, it’s Columbia. That’s Doug’s first choice for business school. And the rest of the time I think about living on a kibbutz for a year or joining the Peace Corps.”

  “Not a bad choice on that list. Honey, when is your appointment at Gillian Investments?”

  “Let me see, I put it in my Palm—you know, I have to admit it’s a pain sometimes to depend on an electronic appointment book. Here, I found it, next Thursday. I’m supposed to have lunch with someone named Allison Tanaka. I guess that means she’s paying, right?”

  “You’re her client. She’ll be happy to treat you. She’s making money because you’re letting her manage your portfolio. Can you have dinner with me? There’s something I want to talk about. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

  “How about a few drinks in one of those leather bars in the meatpacking district? We can pretend we’re in a mother-daughter episode of Sex and the City.”

  “Perfect. Who do I get to be, Samantha or Carrie?”

  “Ugh, Mom. I can’t believe you actually watch the show. I’m sorry I started this,” she giggled.

  “Serves you right. You’ll have to go a long way to scandalize me. Do you think your generation invented shocking behavior?”

  “I know, I know. Make love, not war and all that. I’m changing the subject now. About next Thursday, let’s do dinner.”

  “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “You sure everything’s all right, Mom?”

  “Better than it’s been in a long time.”

  __________

  I could have just quit my j
ob at Tri-Tech, which would have made things simple for Joey as well as for me.

  However, it was the end of the year, and though I no longer was desperate for the bonus or the partnership package, I had put up with Joey and earned my claim to that money. Sidney had said I had about a month until Martin’s money would really be mine. Until then, I’d be like one of those stunned lottery jackpot winners, an instant millionaire who continues to show up for work on the assembly line at the tool-and-dye factory until she can come up with a better plan.

  “Sarah, I have Joey on line two for you. From Minneapolis.”

  “Put him through.”

  I had returned to the office after just one day at home. Doc Shortland was suddenly called to Geneva. No French lessons for the rest of the week.

  “Sarah? You remember that PowerPoint presentation we did last year on Dravitin, the allergy medicine for kids? It was a proposal for a continuing ed program for pediatricians, but the FDA held up approval and Savant dropped the whole idea.”

  Not a word of greeting to me. “I remember, Joey,” I said. I had written the entire presentation without any help from him.

  “We may have another shot. Looks like the FDA came through and the drug will be out next year. I heard that Saylish has been asked to make a pitch to the Dravitin team at Savant this week. I was able to get to the Dravitin team leader. He says we have a shot at competing with Saylish if we can meet with the Dravitin team this Friday. Can you do that presentation without me?”

  Teams and team leaders. Like everyone’s at summer camp. “No problem,” I said.

  “Just get Sally to help you gather anything you need. And take Raymond along with you.”

  Raymond again.

  “Joey, I’m supposed to be in DC next week. That meeting’s still on, isn’t it? Fawn hasn’t given me my final itinerary.”

  Hesitation. “Yeah, well, don’t worry about that now. Just do the Dravitin thing.”

  “Everything all right out there?”

  “Yeah. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Can you put me through to Rebecca?”

  “Rebecca?” He usually goes through me when he needs something from her.

  “Uh, yeah, I have a quick question for her.”

  __________

  “Wendy, it’s Sarah Roth.”

  “Looking for Kevin?”

  “Just wondering what the best way is to get hold of him.”

  “You mean now? He should be free in about thirty minutes.”

  “How can I get word to him to call me this afternoon?”

  “I’ll tell him,” she said stiffly. “Or I’ll leave him a note like I usually do. I always give him your messages, Sarah.”

  Leave him a note? Kevin’s in the office? “Of course you do, Wendy. Sorry, I wasn’t implying that you didn’t.”

  “That’s all right. I’m a little bummed out today. It’s just that I thought I’d have an easy week, with everyone away. Then when they canceled the Seattle trip, things got nuts here. I’m sure Kevin has told you how busy this place can get.”

  “He talks about the office all the time, Wendy.” Except when he doesn’t, like when he neglects to say he’s in New York, not Seattle, for the week.

  “Is this, like, an emergency? I’ll break into the meeting if you need him right away.”

  “Not necessary. Just leave him a note and tell him he can get me at home tonight. He has the number.”

  Wendy laughed. “I’m sure he does.”

  “Do me a favor. Write that down as part of the message for him. I mean, ‘Sarah called. She’ll be at home tonight. You’ve got the number.’”

  “Oh, I get it, a joke, right?”

  “Yes, Wendy. Hilarious, isn’t it?”

  __________

  The meeting with the Dravitin team was scheduled for early afternoon on Friday. Raymond and I drove to Savant in his car, an old Taurus station wagon (“a hand-me-down from Ma and Pa Albano,” he explained) with an actual mother-of-plastic Madonna velcroed to the dashboard and squeaky springs jutting through vinyl seats. Raymond had gone to the trouble of installing a state-of-the-art stereo system, so we were able to enjoy the musical stylings of Limp Bizkit coming at us from six speakers all the way from Manhattan to Parsippany.

  My PowerPoint presentation went well. Raymond, who didn’t have much of a role at the meeting, nonetheless made certain that everyone in the room had one of his business cards. When someone wandered in after I’d begun my talk, Raymond almost knocked over a water pitcher on the conference table as he leapt from his chair to press his card into the surprised latecomer’s hand. After the last slide, the Dravitin team leader asked if Raymond and I would wait outside the room for a few minutes.

  “What’s going on?” Raymond whispered in the hallway.

  “It’s a good sign,” I said.

  When we were invited to return to the room, we were told that our presentation was “superior” to the competition’s, and the team wanted a written proposal from us for a series of continuing education programs—conferences around the country, video and audiotapes, patient education materials, articles for medical journals. I’d just landed an easy five million dollars of business for a company about to fire me.

  It was after four when we pulled into the garage in our office building. Raymond parked his Taurus right near the purple Explorer. I pointed to a familiar silver BMW.

  “Raymond, isn’t that Joey’s car?”

  “Oh, is it?”

  “Look, there’s the sticker from his kid’s school. ‘Proud Soccer Parent, S. Agnew Middle School, Brooklyn, NY.’“

  “Then I guess he’s here.” Raymond avoided my gaze and shifted his weight from foot to foot as we rode up in the elevator. He didn’t exactly seem surprised at the possibility that Joey was no longer in Minneapolis.

  Grace, the part-time receptionist was already gone for the day. Sally is Joey’s assistant exclusively; the rest of us have to share Grace’s services or rely on voicemail for messages. Grace had left me a stack of pink While You Were Out slips with messages written in her flowery Palmer-method script. Dr. “Bess” Gillian (Grace always gets Beth’s name wrong) wants me to try her at home in the evening. Doc Shortland’s office called on Mrs. Shortland’s behalf: Could I recommend an intermediate French conversation tape for her to listen to in her car? Allison Tanaka from Gillian Investments would like me to join her and my daughter for lunch.

  A few emails, none crucial. Dana was asking if we were to consider “website” one word or two, capitalized or not, hyphenated or not. The Dravitin team leader had already written to thank me for my presentation and to remind me that they’d need our written proposal by Tuesday. Pushpa Rao had copied me on her official acceptance of Shortland’s job.

  Still no itinerary on my desk for the conference in DC. But there was a copy of Gloria Steinem’s biography, the one by Carolyn Heilbrun, with a scribbled note from Rebecca clipped to the front cover: “Thanks, Sarah. RNC.” I had lent the book to Rebecca ages ago, in the days when I still believed that she and I could be friends. We used to go to lunch together and talk about books, movies, men. I found it strange that Rebecca had suddenly thought to return the book to me after so many months.

  At a few minutes before five, Sally buzzed me. I was determined to leave reasonably early. No need for overachieving at this point.

  “Yes, Sally?”

  “Joey’s here and he’d like to see you before you leave.”

  “Back from Minneapolis, is he? I hope it won’t take too long, Sally. I’ve got plans tonight,” I lied.

  “He just asked me to call you. I can’t say how long it will take,” she said.

  I knew immediately that something was up. Joey was dressed in unusually casual clothes—a knit Henley shirt and corduroy pants—not his customary Italian-knock-off pinstriped suit. He was seated at the small round ta
ble in his office, his back to me as I stood in the doorway. Facing me in the seat across from him was Sally Ackroyd, tightly embracing a few of her trademark colored file folders.

  “How was Minneapolis?” I said, helping myself to the one vacant seat left at the table.

  “Actually, I’ve spent the week in central Jersey,” Joey said. First Kevin, now you. How come none of the men in my life seems to be where he says he is?

  “Interesting choice. This time of year, most people opt for the Caribbean.”

  No hint of a grin from Joey, who has no sense of humor, which is perhaps the trait I find most irritating in him. That, and the Queeg-rubberband thing, which he was going at with alarming speed. No smile from Sally, either. She takes her cues from Joey.

  “I imagine you want to know how things went today?” I said. Joey looked confused. “The Dravitin presentation?”

  “I’ve spoken to Raymond already. He says the two of you did all right.”

  “The two of us. How, exactly, did he describe his contribution to the presentation?”

  “Sarah, I’ve got a lot to say, and I know you want to get home, after all it’s the start of the weekend, so why don’t you let me say what I have to.”

  “And Sally?” I said, not bothering to look her way. “What’s she doing here?”