Jonathan told me not to come into the office today as our plane didn’t land until two-thirty. But here it is the middle of the afternoon and I’m home and I don’t know what to do with myself. I decide to unpack and take a shower. Maybe a little steam will help clean the cobwebs out of my head.
My brain is so full of thoughts of Elliot and Richard and New York and my future that I have no idea where to begin processing everything. What I really have to decide is how much time I’m going to give Elliot to call things off with Beatrice before I recognize he isn’t going to. Again, I wonder why he doesn’t just tell her it’s not working out and make a nice clean break.
As I’m washing my hair, I toy with the idea of calling Kevin, but I’m not really in the mood to hear nice things about the beast. I consider ringing various members of my family, but I don’t think I have the energy for that either. That’s when it hits me who I really want to talk to. I want to talk to Marge. I want to confess how much I’ve cheated while I was away and I want her to tell me everything is going to be okay. Although she’ll think she’s just comforting me about my weight, but I’ll take it as so much more. Marge is a solid, no-nonsense, practical kind of woman and I truly need her calming presence.
When I get out of the shower, I dry my hair as wet hair weighs a lot more than dry. I also put on the lightest weight clothes and shoes I own to try to negate some of the damage. I know I’m in trouble when I consider clipping my fingernails in hopes of losing a millionth of an ounce that way.
My car takes me right to Weight Watchers without stopping anywhere else first and I’m so excited I nearly run inside. I spot Marge through the glass door before I even walk in and already I feel the comfort of her aura. She greets me, “Hey there stranger. How was your trip?”
I confess, “I’ve been bad, Marge. Almost three whole days went by when I didn’t even calculate my points.”
“But you sure do look good! I love your hair.” I thank her for the compliment and ask if she has time to weigh me in. She answers, “You betcha. Just let me get Mildred to cover the front.”
As soon as Mildred emerges from the back, Marge asks for my chart and leads me to the weigh-in area. I feel like a semi driving up to the big scales off the freeway, hoping against hope that I haven’t crossed the legal limit. I flip my shoes off and climb aboard, keeping my eyes closed the whole time.
Marge says, “Well let’s see here, you were one hundred and sixty-seven on your last weigh-in and today you’re one hundred and sixty- five point seven. Congratulations! That’s another one point three pounds down.”
I’m shocked by this news. I say, “How is that possible? I’ve been really bad.”
Marge asks, “Exercising?”
“Like crazy,” I tell her.
“That explains it, honey. I told you before, the more you exercise the more you can eat.” Then she says the words I’ve been longing to hear, “You’ve done a great job. Everything is working out just fine.”
Marge has no idea she’s my spiritual leader and I am her grasshopper, but it’s almost more mystical that way, don’t you think? It’s like my weight has become the barometer for my whole life. If Marge had told me my weight was up and I was going to have to try harder, I would have interpreted that to mean I’m slacking off on a spiritual level. I briefly think there’s a book here, “The Tao of Marge.” Okay, maybe the title isn’t quite right, but the book has potential.
I drive home feeling a lot better about everything. When I pull up to my house there’s a huge vase of flowers waiting for me at the front door. I immediately think of Elliot and wonder why I ever doubted him. I hold the card close to my heart before I open it, just savoring the moment. Then I flip open the envelope and read: “Dear Mimi, Come to New York, we NEED you!!! Love, Marcus.” Marcus? How full of myself was I, thinking I was being romanced? But hey, there’s no down side here. The flowers are beautiful and I’m wanted in New York. It’s still a great feeling.
I flop onto the couch and wonder what my family would think if I up and moved to Manhattan. Certainly they would miss me, but they all had each other. Then I wonder if at thirty-four, I really have what it takes to start all over in a big city. I really am a small town girl and I’m not sure I have the inner strength to survive a move of this magnitude. I wonder what Marge would say. I briefly consider I am giving this woman too much power over my life, but then I think, “No, this is Marge, my counselor, my inspiration.”
Kevin will be here any minute to work out as per our standing six o’clock arrangement. So I drag myself off the couch and change into shorts and a T-shirt. I can’t help but think that even though I’m still a size twelve, my legs are looking gorgeous. I’m actually noticing the muscle tone for the first time and am more than a little impressed with myself.
Kevin and Muffy show up at the same time and appear to be having a grand old time. They’re laughing and carrying on like a couple of kids and I’m delighted. They’ve both been going through difficult times in their lives. I’m glad they are becoming friends. It’s got to be nice to share your burdens with someone who’s been where you are. Kind of like me with Weight Watchers. Luckily they’ve brought groceries with them as they didn’t yet know that the contents of my refrigerator and freezer are fit only for a landfill.
Upon seeing me, Kevin exclaims, “There she is!”
And Muffy announces, “Welcome home!” It’s nice to be missed. Muff feels awful when she discovers she unplugged the refrigerator. I ask her where she’d been staying and she cryptically answers, “With a friend.”
Our workout is invigorating as my sister has decided we need to start adding sprints to our routine. We walk three blocks, then sprint one, then walk two blocks, then sprint one, and repeat. My heart is kabooming in my chest like mad but I love the way it feels. It’s the perfect means of release for my angst over Elliot. The silver lining is that even if he never leaves Beatrice, I’ll still get a rockin’ ass out of the deal.
While Kevin and Muffy microwave our Weight Watchers dinners and throw a salad together, I run over to Rite Aid to buy a mouth guard. As dental isn’t part of my health plan, I realize I had better start taking care of my grinding problem before it become an astronomical out-of-pocket expense. I find a guard for twenty bucks and buy two just incase I pulverize the first one in a week.
After a very pleasant dinner of vegetable lasagna, a salad, and a double fudge bar, I leave Kevin and Muffy to their own devices while I boil my mouth guard and form it to my teeth. I feel like Rocky Balboa once it’s in and I bounce into the living room, spreading my hands open in a full bouquet, shouting, “Yo, Adrian!” What I bounce into nearly causes me to swallow my new rubber insert. Muffy is snuggled up to Kevin on the couch with one leg wrapped over his lap and her mouth cemented to his. My first instinct is that Kevin has choked on his fudge bar and Muffy is giving him CPR. But when they pull apart as they hear my Rocky impersonation, I comprehend this was in fact a kiss and not a lifesaving medical procedure.
My sister and friend are both a little uncomfortable that I just caught them mid-tryst and I inquire, “Well, well, well, when did this happen?”
Kevin smiles first and says, “The day you left for New York.”
Muffy injects, “Do you mind?”
Do I mind? Why would I mind? So I tell her just that. After all they are two people I care the world about and I’m delighted they have found each other. I’m a little jealous that they’re the first ones to make out on my couch, but I’m still jazzed for them. I decide to leave the new lovebirds alone and take my mouth guard upstairs for its maiden voyage. With all the travel and exercising, I’m exhausted and can’t wait to hit the hay.
I dream I’m stuffing my face at the Mall of America food court. The smells are out of this world, the food looks amazing, but why is it all so rubbery? I’m chewing and chewing but I’m not getting any closer to actually consuming anything. That’s when I discover that my mouth doesn’t hurt because I’m a tooth grinder. My mo
uth hurts because I’m a sleep eater. In my semi-conscious state I know this is something I can’t even confess to Marge. It’s simply too humiliating.
Chapter 29
Going back to work on Wednesday morning is painful. I can’t seem to get back into the groove to save my life. I’m supposed to be working on a promotional tour for a local band, but my heart just isn’t in it. So I recommend Think Tank’s music to three different venues by declaring 1. They could be worse 2. Their music’s okay if you like that sort of thing, and 3. They’re not my cup of tea, but what do I know, I’m old. None of the clubs booked them. It’s like I had been hired by their competition.
In the office Elliot is back to treating me like he did before we went to New York, with arm’s length indifference. He doesn’t try to engage me in conversation once and he barely even speaks to me at our debriefing with Jonathan. He spends the day pacing around taking notes for his book, then retreats to a spare room set up as his office where he writes for hours on end. I try to convince myself that I’m being paranoid, but it isn’t working. It feels like he is trying to detach from me. By five o’clock, I have a splitting headache and I walk out the door without saying goodbye to anyone.
Thursday is a blur. Friday is no better except for the fact Richard calls. We have a wonderful conversation and I recognize how lucky I am he still wants to be in my life. After hanging up, I start to think I do not deserve to be treated the way Elliot is treating me. There is another man out there who full-blown adores me and my bunion and he is not otherwise committed to another woman. I start thinking perhaps it is time to try to refocus my energies on him.
Today is Saturday and the family is gathering over at Ginger and Jonathan’s. They have an announcement they want to make. We’re all pretty sure they are going to tell us they have been matched up with an adoptive child. That’s what we’re guessing anyway, as they’re keeping quiet until we’re all together.
I am really looking forward to being with my family. It hasn’t been very long since we’ve all been together, but I feel so vulnerable right now I crave the company of a group of people who love me. It occurs to me this party would be perfect if only I could invite Marge. Then my whole support team would be assembled in one place. Of course today is officially about Ginger and Jonathan, but still, a girl can dream.
I am the last one to arrive at my sister’s because I have to turn around when I notice I forgot Camille’s baby doll. I figure today is the best time to distribute all of my booty from New York as I’m sure it’s going to be a day of celebration.
Muffy opens the door for me and Kevin is at her side. I’m surprised to see him and say, “You again! Are you coming to all our family gatherings now?”
He gives me a cocky look, and answers, “Maybe.”
Muffy interrupts sounding like she’s had about fifty-eight cups of coffee and rattles off, “I wanted to let the family know Kevin and I are dating. I mean, I know it’s totally fast after breaking up with Tom. But let’s be honest, my ex has been servicing all the old broads at the club, not his wife. So it hasn’t been much of a marriage for a long time. You know?”
I give her a look confirming that I think it’s a wonderful idea and then push my way in. My family makes me feel like a movie star as they cluster around asking questions about my trip. It occurs to me my sisters have all gone to exotic locations throughout their adult lives, but this is the first time I’ve gone outside a three state radius since my senior year in high school when my class took a trip to Washington D.C. My family is treating my adventure with the proper level of enthusiasm.
I tell them all about The Plaza and the wonderful restaurants and parties and I even tell them about Richard. They are so excited for me that I feel like I’m living the fun all over again. Of course I don’t breathe a word about Elliot because I’m really starting to wonder what’s going to happen with him. It breaks my heart to think it, but the way he’s treating me is not the way a man treats the woman he loves.
I pass out the gifts and everyone is very appreciative. Renée prances around in the drag queen shoes like they’re flats, Dad has already filled his Guinness stein, the kids are going nuts for their toys, and Ginger can’t stop laughing at her “Frick”en T-shirt (I’ll have to remember to tell Richard it’s a big hit.) I tell Kevin what his T-shirts say as I didn’t know he would be here, so they are still at home under my bed.
The doorbell rings again and I look around wondering who has yet to arrive. The only person missing is Tom, and let’s be honest, he’d have to have a death wish to show up at a gathering of the Finnegans’ right now. Ginger answers the door and she leads Elliot and Beatrice into the living room. Elliot looks surprised to see us all and I am certainly surprised to see them, and Beatrice is surprised to see Kevin. Are you getting a feel for the scene here?
Jonathan starts passing around mimosas and once everyone has a glass he raises his in a toast, “Now that we are all together, Ginger and I want you to know we are going to have a baby!”
And the crowd goes wild. We were expecting as much, but actually hearing the news is positively thrilling. Mom asks, “Now what kind of baby are we getting? Chinese, Romanian, American?”
Ginger smiles and replies, “We are getting a half-Irish, quarter-German and quarter English-baby.”
Dad interjects, “What are the chances you’re going to adopt a baby with the exact same heritage as you and Jonathan? That’s just amazing!”
Dad’s question sort of hits everyone at once. What are the chances they are going to get a baby sharing their identical heritage?
Smiling more brilliantly than I have ever seen, Ginger announces, “The chances are pretty good when we’re the ones who are making the baby.”
Mom bursts into tears at the same time that Renée yells, “Oh my God, oh my God!” It’s total and complete pandemonium. The family gathers around Ginger and Jonathan in a ring of celebration.
Jonathan explains that he and Ginger decided to try invitro fertilization. They didn’t tell us about it ahead of time because they weren’t sure it would work and they didn’t want to disappoint us if it didn’t.
Muffy asks, “This means there could be more than one baby in there, right?”
Ginger answers, “A pretty good chance actually.”
This is such wonderful news that the Finnegans are beside themselves with happiness. Jonathan has to shout over the noise to get everyone to calm down and he raises his glass again, “Now I would like you all to help me toast Elliot and Beatrice.” I feel like my blood has been replaced with ice water when he announces, “Congratulations on your engagement!”
Holy fucking what? Their what? What, what, what, what, what?! Elliot catches my eye and appears to want to crawl under the couch to hide. I just stare at him completely oblivious to the fact my family is toasting their marriage and offering their good wishes for a long and happy life. I of course don’t join them as I’m pretty sure my heart stopped beating as soon as I heard Jonathan’s words. I feel like a dead woman standing. I’m as still as a statue as the energy of the rooms hums around me desperately trying to resuscitate me. But it’s not working. I’m just waiting for my body to realize I’ve died and to fall over in its final act here on earth. But I don’t fall, I just stand and stare, and wonder what the fuck?
Muffy gets all caught up in the celebration and raises her glass and announces, “I would like you all to toast Kevin Beeman!” My family looks very confused until she explains, “My new boyfriend!”
And the Finnegans go crazy again. They are all cheering when Beatrice shouts out in indignation, “But Kevin can’t be your boyfriend. He’s gay!”
That gives my family a moment for pause. It also makes Muffy laugh out loud, “I don’t know where you got your information Beatrice, but I can assure you that Kevin is not gay.”
She vehemently replies, “Yes he is. He’s gay with the black bartender from La Petite Maison. I saw them.”
Muffy treats Beatrice like she’s go
t a screw loose and the rest of the family takes their cue from her. After all if she claims to know firsthand that Kevin isn’t gay, that’s good enough for them. They don’t need the particulars.
But Beatrice isn’t done, “Kevin, didn’t you say you were gay?”
Kevin turns beet red and looks like he wants to join Elliot under the couch. He answers, “That was just my American sense of humor, Beatrice. I’m sorry if it confused you.”
Beatrice responds, “But you were kissing Mimi to make your boyfriend jealous, you said so.” That has to get my family wondering what’s what so I save the day by nearly shouting, “I’d like you all to toast me now!” Everyone looks surprised as I declare, “I’m moving to New York to be with Richard! I’ve already been offered a job there with Parliament and I’ll be moving as soon as I can pack.”
My mom cries out, “Oh Meems, I don’t want you to leave home! I mean now that we’re all together…”
She’s really getting choked up, so my dad takes over, “But if that’s where your young man is, we are thrilled for you. We only want you to be happy, dear.”
Well they’re shit out of luck because happy is the farthest thing away from what I feel. I feel miserable and betrayed and mistreated and madder than hell, but I do not feel happy. I want to stay home and be here for Ginger. I don’t want to leave my parents or any of the rest of them. But how can I stay now? How can I keep seeing Elliot knowing what a good for nothing rat skunk bastard he is? I just can’t. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to have a life of my own. And it would seem the only person willing to cast his lot with me is in New York.
Once everyone breaks off into smaller groups, Elliot tries to get me alone but I tell him to go to hell. He pleads there are mitigating circumstances and I declare, “If you don’t get the fuck away from me right this fucking minute, I’m going to scream.” He seems to believe me, because he walks off to join Jonathan.
Meanwhile Beatrice is hanging all over Kevin demanding an explanation. Kevin hems and haws until Muffy comes to his rescue.
The Reinvention of Mimi Finnegan (The Mimi Chronicles Book 1) Page 17