Twice a Child

by Ann Elia Stewart

“And you’re trying to take her place.”

  James kissed her eyes, then the tip of her nose. Then her lips. Soft, tender, as if being kissed by a butterfly.

  All so natural, so—destined?

  They turned toward the oak tree to find both Grandpa and Joshua asleep in the shade, the baby’s arm resting on Grandpa’s lap beneath the warmth of his hand.

  Was it possible to share a lifetime together like her grandparents? To ride out the storms, the curves life throws at you, and emerge as one?

  Only with someone extraordinary, someone who has already proven they can hang in when life required more than romance. She believed she had found that person in James. When she wasn’t looking, when romance was the last thing on her mind, there he was.

  Tina kissed him again, this time his tongue parted her lips. She loved the taste of him. “Feels like home.”

  “Oh my, yes.”

  They had to work the date around the premiere of Phantom, a giddy affair with Riley Andrews showing up drunk and arm-in-arm with yet another girl, displaying her best cheesecake smile for the flashes, along with ample cleavage.

  Tina and James hung back with Grandpa, who jumped and twitched with each flash of the camera.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Tina whispered into James’ ear. “Grandpa’s not sure about what’s going on.”

  “If we can get him into the theatre past this line of vultures, we’ll be okay,” he said. “He does understand it’s Eddie’s night. He kept telling me what a big deal his son is.” He scanned the crowd. “You know, he’s right.”

  They left fifteen minutes into the movie. Grandpa had become so agitated he tried getting out of his wheelchair, and had James not stopped him—under great protest—he would have fallen flat on his face.

  She didn’t disturb Eddie. He enjoyed basking in the praise of his colleagues, none of whom she recognized nor cared about. Riley had informed her earlier that they were the Spielbergs of horror movies.

  Tina, James and Grandpa quietly slipped out of the theatre and headed back to Burbank.

  “I thought he made love stories,” Grandpa said from the back seat.

  James reached over and laced Tina’s hand in his. After awhile, Grandpa’s low snoring drowned out the rush of traffic around them.

  thirty nine

  I hate sandals.

  Looks like everyone’s wearing sandals. They’re all dressed up in these damn monkey suits and they’re wearing sandals.

  This hotel sure does it up. Pretty fancy.

  Who the hell are these people who keep smiling at me like I’m supposed to know them? Smile back. No one harms an old guy when he’s smiling.

  Where’s that pretty girl with the baby? She’s always around but I don’t see her or the kid. I don’t know these people and I wish they would stop touching me. It hurts.

  Wait a minute.

  Yes, yes, I got it now. Mamie told me it was going to be a small affair, just some close relatives. That’s her Uncle Bill over there, isn’t it? Why’s he wearing a ponytail?

  I better get up. I’m supposed to be at the altar, waiting for her.

  “Whoa, Frank, you need to stay sitting. We’ll get you up there when the time’s right.”

  Play by the rules. You don’t want to go to jail.

  Music’s nice.

  What’s taking Mamie so long? She’s always making me wait.

  “You comfortable, Frank?”

  Huh? Oh, one of those hotel people. I think I’ve seen her before.

  “Here, let me loosen your tie. Everything all right? Do you need to use the bathroom before it starts?”

  “No.”

  The tie is still too tight. Maybe it’s heartburn. I never got married before. I told her I wanted to go away, we didn’t have to do anything more than say ‘I do,’ but she had to have a big shindig. An archway loaded with roses? Come on. Who’s paying for that? “Uncle Frankie! Hey, we meet again. Good thing I live out here, eh? You’re lookin’ . . . well. Understand you’re giving away the blushing bride, is that right?”

  Play by the rules. Shake his hand. Jesus, he’s got a grip. Wonder which uncle he is on Mamie’s side. Kind of pushy.

  “Hey, I’ll see you real soon, Uncle Frank. Up there.”

  Yeah, up there. I better get there or Mamie’s going to be marrying that black guy wearing a big grin on his face. I don’t know. Maybe he’s just got a good tan.

  Hey, he’s barefoot.

  Now wait a minute. I’m wearing these stupid sandals and he’s barefoot—

  “Grandpa, are you ready to walk me down the aisle?”

  Isn’t she beautiful? “Where’s Mamie?”

  “Grandpa, I’m Tina, your granddaughter. This is my wedding day and you’re going to give me away.”

  Sure. Play by the rules.

  Mamie must be playing a trick on me.

  “You better go because if Mamie sees you in her wedding gown, she’s going to get really pissed.”

  Did I say something wrong, why are they moving me? Oh, shit, here come the police. They’re wearing sandals, too.

  “Frank, open your eyes. This is a special day. Frank? It’s okay, it’s your granddaughter’s wedding day.”

  Just who are they trying to kid? I have no granddaughter, hell, I’m not even married yet.

  “Look, the joke’s up. I don’t know what you people are trying to pull on me, but I know what’s going on. And I’m marrying her whether you like it or not. You got that?”

  “PAW-PAW.”

  Look at the kid. They got him in a monkey suit, too. And bare feet.

  “Hey, you better put some shoes on that kid. He’s going to step on something.”

  “Do you know him, Grandpa?”

  They keep asking me these dumb questions. “Of course I do.”

  “Who is he?”

  “That’s the baby. Uh . . . John. Joe. Give me a minute.” He’s a nice kid, he looks like Eddie. A little. Eddie wasn’t so dark. “Josh—”

  “That’s it! Joshua. Your great-grandson.”

  “PAW-PAW!”

  “He’s a cute one.”

  “Hey, Pop, you okay to go through with this?”

  I’m not going to tell him my collar’s too tight.

  “Pop, I’m Eddie, your son.”

  Smile. Play by the rules.

  “I told you he’s in no shape to do this, Teen. He’s in la-la land, doesn’t even know you or me.”

  I’m messing something up. Think, think. Tina. There, in the wedding dress. The kid. He’s a baby. He’s walking around in a monkey suit and no shoes. I’m in a monkey suit. I’m wearing sandals.

  “Is this a wedding or a funeral?” Someone around here has to know.

  “Grandpa. It’s a wedding. I’m marrying James, the great guy who takes such good care of you. Joshua has the rings. Do you think he could sit on your lap? He’ll get distracted if we let him walk by himself. Can you be next to me, Grandpa? Go up that aisle, so I can marry James?”

  “Sure I can. Let’s go.”

  I’m moving. Eddie better be here, his daughter’s wedding. “Where’s Eddie?”

  “Right behind you, Pop. We’re walking Tina down the aisle.”

  Too many people. And they’re crying. I thought this was a wedding.

  “Paw-Paw!” This little guy’s pretty warm on my lap, but he doesn’t seem to like this too much either.

  Smile. Play by the rules.

  Mamie will get here any minute, she’s always late. I can’t believe she’d miss her granddaughter’s wedding.

  “Who will be giving away Tina Lillo to James Josephs in the holy rite of matrimony?”

  “Grandpa? Say ‘I am.’

  “I am. Can I take this shit off now? It’s tight.”

  “Please be seated.”

  “Pop, I’ll put you right next to me.”

  That guy again with the ponytail.

  “Eddie, Pop. It’s Eddie.”

  Yeah, that’s right. We came out
here to find him. Now I remember. He’s a big deal in Hollywood. And that’s Tina. And her kid. When did he start walking?

  “Mamie, look! The baby’s walking!”

  “Shhh, Pop. Listen to the vows—”

  Right. Okay. Play by the rules. She’s getting married. She’s marrying that black guy? Ja- James. Yes, okay. I like that guy.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “In heaven, Pop.”

  Now that can’t be true. We’re getting married today.

  This shirt is too tight.

  “I got to go to the bathroom.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah now.” What does he think, I’m making it up? Wave at everyone. Smile back. Look at them all looking at me. I wonder who died?

  “I want to go home.”

  “You are home, Pop. This is your room.”

  “Who’s this?”

  “Heather. She’ll take care of you now. I got to get back to the wedding.”

  She’s a looker. But she keeps pawing me. Mamie will not like this at all.

  “Frank, I have to pull your pants down. You need to go to the bathroom, don’t you?”

  She just wants a peek. Well, what’s the harm? Mamie’s not here anyway. But that’s not right.

  “Frank. You can go in your brief or you can make it a whole lot less messy if you just let me pull these down, there, and take this brief off.”

  So she gets what she wants.

  “Thank you, Frank. Now, let’s get you on the toilet and you’ll feel much better, okay?”

  She does have a gorgeous smile. “You can look just once, girlie. But, you have to know that I’m spoken for.”

  forty

  The Maker’s Mark went down smooth, burned hot. That little cutie serving the canapés said she’d be here by now. Probably got lost. Eddie tried to identify the feeling that lingered inside him all day, a sense of ease as if the pieces of his life had all fallen into place. Finally.

  It was a foreign feeling and he grew more suspicious with each passing hour. Just because he wheeled his father down the aisle next to his daughter, with the baby perched on Pop’s lap—what a sight that must have been, he must have heard a thousand cameras!—didn’t mean they were all one big happy family.

  He took mental inventory.

  His daughter was speaking to him.

  His house was his again.

  His daughter got married today.

  Pop was here, in California. Losing his mind, but alive.

  Mom was gone.

  Rosemary was still gone.

  And he was still chasing tail.

  Eddie trudged across the sand and caught sight of himself in the sliding glass doors: a middle-aged man with a slight paunch, bags under his eyes. He looked like his dad about twenty years ago, about the time Eddie had ditched working for him and took off. Minus the ponytail.

  This could happen to him within twenty years, losing his mind.

  He’d rewrite his living will. Once the disease progressed beyond his ability to take care of himself, he’d ask to be moved somewhere. Oregon? Washington? By then, more states would adopt assisted suicide, wouldn’t they? Hell, dogs were treated better than old people. What was the point of living out your final days among strange faces, feeling lost everywhere you go, being at the mercy of people who dressed and bathed you, who put you on the toilet, and tucked you in at night?

  He moved into the bedroom, stripped off his pants and shirt. She wasn’t coming; she would have been here by now.

  Funny thing: he didn’t care.

  He’d gotten another cult hit, judging by the reviews: “Lillo’s hit another home run!” “The vintage Lillo is back!” “A runaway hit!” Any up and coming star was his.

  The living room took on the sky’s pink glow. It calmed him enough to reach for his mother’s envelope, still smelling like her, a faint scent of patchouli. God, she put that stuff all over the house, on blankets and furniture. To this day, whenever one of his conquests wore patchouli, he couldn’t get it up; he’d feel like he was fucking his mother.

  He ripped open the envelope. Time to dive into the deep end.

  Her handwriting—flowing, free.

  “Eddie. Came across this photo. Thought you might want it. Would love to see you, your Pop and I. Won’t you come home soon? Love, Mom XXOO”

  That day at the Street Fair, the four of them, him, his parents, flanking Rosemary’s wheelchair, a smile twisted on her face, the ruby shoes catching a glint of sunlight.

  Maybe he’d take it to show Pop.

  He rubbed his thumb over Rosemary’s image. There was a soft knock at the patio door; the cute little thing from the wedding showed up after all.

  Eddie placed the photo in the mirror frame and went to greet his guest. Maybe afterward he’d show her the out-takes from Phantom. Might score him a second night.

  “Well, hello gorgeous. Imagine coming all the way out here, just for me.”