The Reinvention of Mimi Finnegan (The Mimi Chronicles Book 1)

by Whitney Dineen

  I go off by myself and try to figure out how my life has turned into such a total and complete shambles. The man I love is marrying someone else, I’m moving to New York and have just realized I don’t want to. I’m desperately sad to leave my family and if that isn’t enough, Edith Bunker hasn’t spoken to me in days and I kind of miss her. My eyes start to leak and before I know it, I’m sitting out in my sister’s gazebo clutching my stomach and doubling over at the staggering amount of grief coursing through my body.

  Chapter 30

  Somehow I manage to get through the rest of the afternoon at Ginger’s but I’m not sure how. It doesn’t help that Elliot and Beatrice stay until the bitter end either. Elliot keeps trying to get his bride-to-be to leave but she is bound and determined to stay. She wants answers from Kevin and isn’t going to give up until she gets them. Kevin on the other hand stays very close to Muffy for protection.

  When I get home, I go straight to bed even though it is only six-thirty. I don’t even take my clothes off first. I just lay under the covers and cry until I nearly dehydrate myself, which takes some doing as I drank about twenty-seven mimosas this afternoon. Sometime before falling asleep Edith Bunker actually speaks her first words to me in days. She said, “Yay, we’re going back to Richard! I told you he was the one for you.”

  So much for missing her. I grumble, “Go to bed, Edith Bunker. I don’t care what you think.” While I know I will enjoy being around Richard, there was simply no other part of me looking forward to living in New York. All of a sudden, it doesn’t feel like some grand Sex and the City adventure, it feels desolate and bleak and lonely. My family won’t be there and Kevin won’t be there and Marge won’t be there and Elliot “fucking” Fielding won’t be there. Why oh why oh why oh why oh why am I going to miss him so much? What’s wrong with me?

  But I know what’s wrong with me. I’m in love with the jackal. That’s what has really sent me over the edge. “There are mitigating circumstances, Mimi.” What mitigating circumstances? What could possibly have compelled Elliot to propose to Beatrice? I suddenly think of the one thing that would force his hand. What if Beatrice is pregnant? Oh no, could that possibly be the reason? What if she got pregnant before Elliot and I fell in love with each other? It dawns on me that Stan and Ollie have kicked Jude and Hermione to the curb. My romance writers would have never let something this horrific happen to me, but Stan and Ollie would rejoice at their comic genius. Those cruel hearted bastards!

  I am in such a state of despair I simply can’t get out of bed. So I go back to sleep and don’t wake up until two the next afternoon when the phone rings. It’s Renée calling to tell me I should move into the apartment she and Laurent keep in Manhattan. She says something like, “Try it out and see what you think. That way if you decide you don’t like it there, you’re not committed to a lease.”

  I think I thanked her and agreed it was a good idea, but I may have just hung up on her too. I don’t really remember. By five-thirty the phone rings again but I don’t have the energy to pick it up and I just go back to sleep. The next thing I know, it’s two-thirty in the morning and I have to pee like a race horse. On my way to the toilet, I briefly look in the mirror and am stopped short by what I see. There is a wild-eyed harridan in my house and I have no idea who she is. All I know is she looks demented and she’s scaring me so I go back to bed.

  I crawl under the covers and don’t wake up until ten o’clock the next morning. I wouldn’t even bother getting up now except that it’s been over forty hours since I’ve last eaten any food and my stomach is growling. I briefly remember it’s Monday and I’m supposed to be at work but the gnawing in my stomach supersedes any other thoughts. That’s why I make myself seventeen pieces of Weight Watchers French toast. I put them on my turkey platter because it’s the largest serving dish I own. Once I pour half a bottle of syrup over the whole shebang I dig in. Sadly, I’m full after only a few pieces, so I save the rest for later and curl up on the couch. I don’t wake up again until five-forty-five when I hear Kevin and Muffy come through the front door.

  From what I’m able to gather, they are horrified by how I look. Muffy wants to know what’s wrong and Kevin declares he’s left me eight messages in the last day-and-a-half. He says he even came by but no one answered the door, so he thought I was out. Again Muffy asks what’s wrong and without my permission Kevin tells her all about Elliot. Muffy is totally heartsick for me and I think she is about to leave and go murder him when Kevin whispers something else to her. Her expression is one of such horror I can only assume I was right and Beatrice is pregnant after all.

  I stare up at the two of them but all of a sudden I can’t understand what they’re saying. It’s like they’re the grown-ups in a Peanuts cartoon and all I can decipher is wwhhhhaa whhaa whhaaa wwwwha… Thank God the blissful arms of sleep capture me again and I don’t stir until morning.

  The first sensation I feel is a warm wash cloth on my face. It’s heavenly and wonderful and soothing, but then it’s gone and I’m cold. It’s the cold that catapults me into consciousness. Muffy smiles at me and asks, “How are you Meems?”

  I can actually hear her, so I answer, “I want to die. Could you please just leave so I can die?”

  “No.” My sister declares, “No dying on my watch.” Then she proceeds to inform me that Kevin told her all about Elliot. She says she knows that my heart is breaking but the best thing I can do is to pick myself up and move on.

  I mumble something like, “Can’t” so she merely pulls the covers off of me and runs a bath. While she’s dragging me into the bathroom and trying to take off my stinky clothes from Saturday, she tells me she’s informed the family that I have the flu which is why I haven’t returned any of their calls. She also explains she called work and told them I’m sick and that she will update them every day so they might get an idea when I’ll be back.

  Muffy washes my hair for me and even shaves my legs as I don’t seem to be capable of lifting my arms. My appendages feel like they weigh five hundred pounds each. Once she gets me out of the tub and dried off she asks, “Who’s Marge, Meems?”

  I’m confused and wonder how my sister knows about Marge but I don’t have the energy to ask, so I just answer, “She’s my Weight Watchers leader.”

  Muff tucks me back into bed and the next thing I know, I’m waking up again and staring into the eyes of my spiritual leader. Marge is standing right here in my bedroom. It briefly occurs to me that I’ve died and Marge is my angel meeting me on the other side. I reach my hand out to hers and ask, “Did you die too, Marge?”

  She takes my hand in hers and says, “No one died, honey. Not me, not you. We’re both still kicking.”

  I believe her, but I’m confused, “What are you doing here then?”

  She answers, “Your sister said you’ve had quite a shock and you’ve been calling out my name in your sleep. She called me and asked if I could stop by.” Then she asks, “What can I do for you, honey?”

  I stare up at her as tears stream down my face and I ask, “Is it all going to be okay, Marge? I just want to know it’s all going to be okay.”

  She squeezes my hand and bestows a beautiful comforting smile on me and says, “You’re doing just fine, Mimi. You’re doing just fine and it’s all going to be okay.”

  As I close my eyes again and fall back asleep, I remember actually believing her.

  I stay home for the rest of the week, but by Thursday I start to return my family’s phone calls. Muffy has done a good job convincing them not to bother me, but they were really starting to get worried. I assure my mom that I am well enough to keep her homemade chicken soup down and I have a nice long conversation with Renée regarding my plans to move to New York.

  You’d think I would have decided not to move but I’m afraid that if I stay here in Pipsy, I’ll never be able to get out of bed again. That’s why I call Marcus on Friday and accept his job offer on a three month trial basis. If either one of us doesn’t think it�
��s going to work by the end of the time period, we can call it quits with no worries, no hurt feelings, no legal action. Plus, this way I won’t have to sell my house and move all of my earthly possessions right away, as I will be staying at Renée and Laurent’s furnished apartment. I tell him I can be in New York as soon as Monday.

  My next call is to Jonathan to explain why I’m not giving two weeks’ notice. He assures me he understands the pull of love and wishes me and Richard well. He says if Ginger were over a thousand miles away from him, he couldn’t bear it either.

  My mom and dad are throwing me a going away party on Saturday and my flight leaves at ten o’clock Sunday morning. None of my family, with the exception of Muffy and Kevin, can understand why I am departing so abruptly, but they wisely don’t ask a lot of questions.

  When I finally hang up the phone after all of my calls, I begin the process of deciding what to pack. I promise myself I will only take three suitcases so it doesn’t feel like I’m really moving. After all, I’ve just ripped the scab off an open wound and now I have to find some way to staunch the flow of blood.

  Chapter 31

  I wake up this morning and have a hard time believing it’s already Friday. Only two days until I start my new life. I finished most of my packing yesterday and today I’m going to pay my bills and relax. Muffy is going to stay in the house so I don’t have to worry about closing it up. But as a precaution, we moved the Mr. Coffee pot away from the refrigerator so she doesn’t get confused over the outlets again.

  Kevin is taking me to dinner tonight, just the two of us, which I’m really looking forward to. On the way, I’m going to stop in for my final Pipsy weigh-in and say goodbye to Marge. I know I’ve lost weight this week, but not in any healthy way as I’ve hardly eaten anything and I haven’t worked out once. Unless of course you consider crawling out of bed to go to the bathroom a workout, which it most certainly felt like.

  I never fully realized how miserable depression could be. When I’d see the TV commercials with the sad little cloud bouncing along in the rain, I’d just think it was clever advertising. Never in my wildest dreams did I understand the overwhelming physical as well as emotional toll the disorder takes.

  Once I’m clean, I dab on a little makeup. The thought being to not scare myself should I pass any more mirrors. The doorbell rings while I’m pouring my raisin bran and I assume it’s one of my family come for a last minute visit before I leave. This is why I simply open the door without asking who it is.

  Elliot Fielding is standing on my stoop. While I’m not happy to see him, I am delighted to see that he looks absolutely miserable. If this was his idea of a going away gift I’m all for it, although I truly did not want to set eyes on him at all. He takes a step towards the threshold and says, “Mimi, we have to talk.”

  I don’t have the energy to slam the door in his face or to even get angry. I’m totally and thoroughly drained, so I just answer, “No, Elliot, we don’t need to talk. You’ve made the decision who you want to be with and now, so have I. So please just leave.”

  He begs, “Please listen to me, Mimi. I really want to explain.”

  But I interrupt, “Will explaining make you any less engaged to Beatrice?”

  He says it won’t so I simply say, “Goodbye, Elliot,” and I close the door in his face.

  Why did he have to come over? Some men just can’t stand having a woman mad at them. But there is nothing that he can say to make this all right for me. Sure, he could tell me Beatrice is pregnant, and I would understand getting married is the right thing to do. But it would not make it any easier for me to hear the words.

  I’ve lost my appetite again. Just so you know I’ve been through small depressions in the past which have always resulted in weight gain. I’m an “eat for all emotions” kind of gal. But this time, I can’t even think of food. I don’t want to look at it, smell it or even taste it, nothing. I’m grieving and the thought of eating trivializes my heartache. I just want to go back to bed. But I’m afraid if I do, I may never get up.

  I decide to go see Marge and weigh in early. When I get there, she’s in the middle of a meeting so I just sit and wait for her. Marge is telling everyone to buy pre-washed spinach leaves and to put two cups of them onto their frozen entrees at night. The spinach will help bulk up their meals at the same time adding fiber, vitamin D and iron. I make a mental note to remember this should I ever decide to eat again.

  When she’s done with the meeting, Marge comes right over and asks how I’m feeling. Before I can stop myself, I tell her everything. I tell her all about Elliot and Richard and my move to New York. She listens with the patience of the Dalai Lama and says, “Let’s weigh you in.” Marge steers me towards the scale and once I get on she announces, “Mimi, this is the first time I’ve ever said this to one of my girls, but you’ve lost too much weight.” She tells me I am down five pounds and considering I didn’t have a lot to lose, in addition to my emotional upset, she is not at all pleased. She advises me to go out with Kevin tonight and to order at least three courses paying no attention to points at all. She says she’d rather I have a gain next week than another loss.

  Before I leave, Marge gives me the address of the Weight Watchers meeting closest to Renée’s apartment and encourages me to call her to let her know how I’m doing. She even gives me her home number in case I need her after business hours. It’s harder to say goodbye to her than I thought. I can’t imagine my new leader in the Big Apple is going to care about me this much.

  I haven’t heard from Edith Bunker since she cheered over the move to New York. I have therefore decided perhaps I should drive to Burger City and order a bunion for lunch. After all, as long as mine is no longer nagging me, I might as well see if I can eat them again. This is the first time I have to force my car to take me there. Normally I’m all shocked and surprised to find myself in the drive-thru line, but today I feel like I’m behind a manual steering wheel. I have to actually fight with it to get it to make the turn.

  The tantalizing aroma of bunions hits me as soon as I pull in and I immediately inhale the heavenly scent. I wait for Edith Bunker to stop me but she doesn’t say a word, so I order a single cheeseburger with a small order of fries and a large Diet Coke.

  As soon as I pay for my food, I drive around the corner and park under a shade tree and eat. I start slowly at first, just a small bite that I chew about twenty times before swallowing. Then I take a bite of a French fry. It’s beyond delicious. After a couple more bites, I start to munch with gusto and by the time I’m done I realize I’m going to be okay. After all, I’m pretty sure the high school crush I had on Eric Dilman caused me as much angst as this, although that was drawn out over an agonizing four years instead of just a few weeks. Plus, it’s not like there isn’t a wonderful man waiting for me in New York. I feel like the little engine again, but instead of just thinking I can, I actually know I can and I will.

  Kevin takes me to Bumble Bee’s for dinner. It’s a chain restaurant that is known nationwide for its comfort food. I tell him what Marge said about me trying to gain weight this week and Kevin is delighted. So when we sit down I order potato skins with bacon, cheddar cheese and sour cream as an appetizer. Kevin orders a salad with dressing on the side. For my main course I have meatloaf with caramelized onions and macaroni and cheese. Kevin has the broiled chicken breast with grilled vegetables. And for dessert I have the triple layer frozen mocha mud pie extravaganza. Kevin has a bowl of fresh berries.

  I cannot believe he’s being so good with such a wealth of temptations in front of him. But he just says, “I can’t either. But you know what? I’m happy for the first time since Megan left me and I don’t even want the junk anymore. I just want to be my old self again.”

  I’m thrilled for my friend. I know his newfound happiness is a result of his relationship with Muffy and while I don’t know what their future holds, I do know they are the perfect support for one another right now.

  Over dinner, Kevin a
nd I have an unspoken pact not to talk about Elliot and Beatrice. Instead, he asks me all about Marcus and the new people I’ll be working with. I tell him as much as I know and he declares it sounds very exciting. He also promises he and Muffy will come out and visit me next month to make sure that I’m doing okay. That is the best bit of news I’ve had all week and I promise to show them all over the city.

  When Kevin drops me off at my house, he gives me a kiss on the cheek and says, “I’m so happy we stumbled back into each other’s lives again.”

  I laugh and reply, “Of course you are. I’m the reason you reunited with your high school dream girl.”

  Kevin laughs, “There is that. But seriously, Meems, I love you like you’re a member of my family and please know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

  Before I can start boohooing all over again, I tell Kevin I’ll see him at the party tomorrow and warn him to keep upbeat. Saying goodbye to my family is going to be hard enough as it is.

  Chapter 32

  The captain has cleared us for takeoff before I’ve decided whether I’m going to stay on the plane or not. Of course once we actually start accelerating down the runway, I’m committed to go. I’m moving to New York. Somewhere over Ohio I start to get my first twinge of excitement. Not so much excitement of leaving home as anticipation of being hundreds of miles away from Elliot. I figure with that kind of distance, the pull he has over me will have to dissipate somewhat.

  Marcus is flying me out first-class which is one of the perks he promises I will always have working for him and before I know it, I’m eating a delicious omelet with fresh fruit and bacon. I imagine the poor folks back in cattle are begging for a second bag of peanuts. If I could, I’d smuggle some bacon to them as I have only ever known coach before my last two flights and I know how stingy they can be with their snacks. I may have to keep working in New York for the flying privileges alone. As Marge has advised, I’m letting myself enjoy food this week. Yesterday at my going away party I even ate fried chicken and coleslaw, two of my most favorite foods.