by Sheri Langer
“Saul never wanted to tell our children he was adopted. I think he was a little ashamed since it was so uncommon in our day. He believed that once he could produce a genuine family member, he would tell them the truth.”
“Mom, would you tell me if you were adopted?” Fordham asked.
Dorie shook her head and lowered the paper. “No, it wouldn’t be necessary.”
“Really? You’d keep it from me?”
“No, it’s just that your grandparents would never have told me.” Dorie raised the paper. Then she lowered it again. “I’m a duplicate of your grandmother, and you have my cheekbones and your father’s nose, so if you were hoping for an out, I can’t give you one.”
“Mom, please just read!”
“Every night, Saul would sit at the computer and do searches for his brother,” Dorie read. “He googled him, tried social networks, and got very close to finding him on a site for seniors who had been adopted. Someone had written that given Saul’s description, he was pretty sure he knew his brother. But Saul never got the chance to contact the guy.
“A few months ago, I got up the nerve to pick up where Saul left off. I did some investigating, and sure enough, Saul‘s brother had been searching for him too. Instead, he found me. I told him what had happened, and we spent hours typing and talking. Finally, he said he’d had enough of the schmoozing and we should meet. He was in Arizona and flew to Massachusetts to meet me, the sister-in-law he never had.
“When I opened the door, I nearly fainted. He was a carbon copy of my Saul. Well, as you would expect, it was all very overwhelming. But one thing led to another, and in a very short time, George and I fell in love. It was a little awkward at first, but at our age, we don’t have time for those kinds of worries. His kids lived in the northeast, and he decided to move to Massachusetts, saying he wouldn’t miss the heat because our love would keep him warm. We had a lot to explain to our children, but in the end, it all worked out. Now we’re one big family, and I feel like a kid again. My advice is never ever give up on the possibility of love. It can show up right on your doorstep.”
Dorie and Fordham were dabbing tissues at their eyes when a piercing scream came from the kitchen, followed by uncontrolled sobbing. Dorie dropped the story on the floor, and she and Fordham sprinted toward the calamity. Lily sat on the kitchen floor, her mouth full of blood and a tiny tooth wedged inside a chewed-up gummy bear in a pool of melted ice cream on the counter in front of her. Fortunately, it was just a tooth and not a horrible story of irreparable negligence she would have to tell David.
Fordham stared at it wistfully, thinking it had been a while since Whitty had lost a tooth. Maybe she had lost them all. It was conceivable. She was turning eleven. Soon she’d get her period, and Fordham would get her AARP card in the mail. But for the moment, there was a little girl who needed to be assured that losing a tooth was a sign of growing up and that growing up was a good thing. Whitty was taking it all in stride, trying to be helpful.
“Oh, wow! We ran out of cherries, so Lily found her own topping for her sundae!” Fordham said, hugging her.
Lily smiled half-heartedly through her tears.
“You’re fine, sweetheart. Promise.”
Fordham tried to let go so she could clean up, but Lily clung to her the same way Whitty used to when she was scared. Dorie sent them all out of the kitchen, saying she would rather do anything than play in her tournament. Fordham mouthed “Thank you” as Dorie took out a fresh roll of paper towels.
Surprisingly, Lily hadn’t asked for David. Fordham wondered if that was a good sign. Maybe she still had a knack for taking care of little ones. Whitty was only a few years older, but somehow it was hard to imagine her as ever being a little kid.
Fordham got a blanket, and they all sat down on the couch. She checked the time. It was still early, and David wouldn’t be back for a while. Lily was still frowning.
“Lily, you’re so lucky. You’re going to have a visit from the tooth fairy tonight!” Fordham said, trying to distract her.
“Yeah. That is way cool,” Whitty said. “When I lost my tooth, I put it under my pillow, and the tooth fairy gave me five dollars.”
“And when I lost my tooth, I paid the dentist five hundred dollars,” Dorie said, coming in from the kitchen. “And it wasn’t nearly as exciting.” She gave them each a kiss on the cheek and went to her room.
Suddenly, Whitty jumped up. “I’ll be right back.”
“But I’m not going to be home,” Lily said, not missing a beat.
“You will be later, honey, and the tooth fairy only comes while you’re sleeping.”
Whitty came back with a pretty flowered ring box for the tooth just as Fordham was handing Ms. Snuggles to Lily. It was interesting to watch Whitty acting sisterly. She was so good at it, which prompted Fordham to think once again about having a baby. Maybe it was unfair to deprive Whitty of a sibling. Fordham had certainly missed that in her life. She knew about the miscarriages and understood that it wasn’t Dorie’s fault, but the void was there regardless. The timing couldn’t have been more inappropriate, but the soft scent of baby lotion was on her mind, along with the billion other thoughts that kept her up at night.
“I have an idea. Why don’t we all get comfy and watch TV?” Fordham craved an escape.
“Yay!” Lily said with a new tooth-missing smile. “Can we watch Sleepless in Seattle?”
Fordham was astonished.
Even Whitty was taken by surprise. “Really? How do you know that movie?”
“I watch it with my grammy,” Lily explained. “The girl that’s going to be the mommy is really pretty.”
“Wow, Mom,” Whitty said, “they’ve actually made another one like you in a smaller model. Lily, that’s, like, my mom’s favorite movie.”
“It’s my favorite too!” Lily exclaimed. “But Grammy’s got broken.”
Fordham pictured the three of them sitting on the couch with David, watching the movie and sharing a huge bowl of popcorn. Since the movie was rarely available for streaming on Netflix, she had her own DVD, which was still conveniently in the player. Fordham turned it on and went into the kitchen to get drinks. The opening credits were playing when her phone rang. It was Aaron asking her to go to lunch. Too distracted to get into a whole conversation, she quickly agreed to meet him in the park for a casual bite and ended the call.
A casual bite. Perhaps, or maybe she wanted a full course meal. It was still hard for her to get a handle on her feelings for Aaron. Fordham had pondered this for at least two full minutes before Dorie walked into the kitchen.
“How’s Lily doing?” she asked, frowning.
Fordham felt a little guilty for being thankful that her mother was too preoccupied to discuss Aaron. Maybe she hadn’t heard their conversation.
“She’s fine,” Fordham said. “Watching a movie with Whitty. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s silly.” Dorie opened the pantry and scanned the contents. “Scrabble.”
“He won again?”
“That’s just it.” She clenched her fists. “He always wins.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure your pot roast has his beat.”
“Comforting.”
Talking about Dorie’s pot roast led Fordham to think about all the times Aaron had eaten dinner at her house when they were kids. Maybe she was handling this all wrong. Maybe she needed to see how Aaron might fit into the fold again to decide if moving forward with him was the right thing to do.
“Mom, I’ve been thinking about having a little dinner party. Just a few people. You can catch up with Aaron. And I’ll ask Abe and Evie to come too.”
“If you want me to see Aaron, I’ll see Aaron,” Dorie said. “He doesn’t have to be protected by a dinner party.”
“No, he doesn’t. I do,” Fordham said with a smirk. “I’ll check with everyone to pick a time.”
“Fine. I’ll make the pot roast,” Dorie announced, walking away with an unopened box of oyster
crackers.
Fordham went back to join the girls on the couch and found them leaning against each other, fast asleep. She covered them with a blanket and continued watching the movie, letting herself doze off as Tom Hanks headed off to find his son. Then the doorbell rang.
Whitty was the first to jump up, but Fordham quickly preened and got the door. David was smiling. The meeting had gone well, and there was a good chance he would get the funding for a writing lab he was anxious to set up.
“How did things go here?” His tone suggested he wasn’t expecting much of an answer.
“Lots of excitement.” Fordham got Lily’s tooth box and handed it to David.
He inspected it curiously. “For me? This is a pretty big step,” he teased as he opened the box. He took out the tooth. “Ahhh... another one bites the dust.”
Fordham got the movie and put it in a case. As soon as it was quiet, Lily woke up.
“Daddy! See?” She proudly opened her mouth to show him where she’d lost the tooth.
“I know! I heard all about it,” he said, cupping her chin in his hand.
“Dorie said I can get five hundred dollars now.”
“Five hundred? I’ll be broke before you’re eight.”
Fordham jumped in. “Uh-oh. I think she misunderstood my mother’s little joke.” She quickly retrieved the movie. “The tooth fairy doesn’t like to carry that much cash on her. How about this before she comes?” Fordham said, handing the DVD to Lily.
“Fordham, you don’t have to do that,” David said, gathering up Lily’s things.
“I want to. I was going to anyway.”
Playing mommy to Lily felt natural, and Fordham wanted to give her something to let her know that.
“Thanks so much,” David said, his eyes twinkling with gratitude. “I can’t believe you have Sleepless. I was sure my mother had the only copy left, and since hers broke, Lily’s been asking for it. I just never got around to buying another.”
“Well, good,” Fordham said. “Now you don’t have to. I’m aiming to be indispensable.” She had no clue why she let that last sentence tumble out of her mouth.
“So far, you’re on target.” David winked and patted Lily on the head. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Fordham.”
They were just about to leave when Whitty came to the door, carrying a folded piece of construction paper she said was Lily’s. David glanced at it as Fordham was closing the door. It was a picture of a house, a smiling sun, and a family: two parents, two girls, a grandmother, and a cat. He quickly studied Fordham as if trying to place her in the picture, then he left.
Fordham was tidying up. Despite the loss of blood, Lily had fared well, and despite moments of self-doubt, so had she. The next day, she would see Aaron again, and the world would make more sense. He would say all the right things, and they would find their way back to each other. That had to be the reason he’d suddenly reappeared.
She went to her room and climbed into bed, still thinking about Lily. She wondered if the babysitter was a good enough substitute for a mother. Doubtful, she thought. But then, the mere thought of Lily calling Pam “Mommy” made her shudder.
Ahhh... sleep. That was what she needed to clear her head. But despite her resolve about Aaron and their upcoming date, she still found herself drifting off while reading the prized submission hanging on the wall.
Chapter Fifteen: Tunestruck
Deciding what to wear was always a chore, but that morning, it seemed even more critical. This was a planned lunch date, so there would be an inherent expectation that she’d look better than she had when she was leaving her gynecologist’s office. But it was also a workday, which meant she had to look professional. She knew somewhere in her closet there was a compromise between salad sexy and publishing chic. Still, it was a challenge to find it amidst the confusing array of mix-and-match dating outfits at the front of the rack.
After nearly an hour of deliberation, she settled on a pair of tapered black pants in faux brushed suede and a clingy plum sweater that suggested cleavage but didn’t actually announce it. She was reasonably certain she looked good, although after her recent slew of lousy dates, she’d done some serious overtime with Cherry Garcia, and her pants were tighter than they’d been a few months earlier. So be it. If things went well, she would be having sex again, and the unwanted pounds would melt into blissful oblivion.
After an easy commute into the city, she was in a good mood and prepared to take on the day. A few workers at an ongoing construction site near the office did a double take as she was passing and gave her a group thumbs-up. For the first time in a while, she was feeling confident. She hoped that vibe would spill into her workday.
As she sat at her desk, her waistband was mercilessly cutting into her gut. The only saving grace was that the sweater covered her little bulge, and unless Aaron made a move on her zipperless no-fly zone, he would be none the wiser. It was too soon for that, anyway. If she appeared too anxious, he’d think she was screwing everyone—or worse yet, he’d think she hadn’t been screwing anyone, which meant she was either undesirable or frigid. There was no way of getting around the delay. She had to wait to get laid until she knew where she stood.
The morning dragged as she tried to focus on work. She ended up staring out the window, daydreaming. It was hard not to be consumed by memories. She’d fallen for Aaron harder than she had ever fallen for anyone since. There’d been something magical about the way he put his lips together when he was talking and the way his nose did this incredibly cute crinkly thing when he was about to sneeze. He’d been magnetic and irresistible to her when they were kids, and she remembered how good it used to feel to be in his arms and his life. One memory, in particular, kept drawing her attention.
IT HAD BEEN ONE OF those enchanting summer days when the sun spoke of fragrant breezes, frozen-yogurt sundaes, and whisper kisses. Fordham was due a long weekend and called in sick without compunction, quite certain Denim Palace had other girls anxiously waiting to fold jeans from dawn to dusk. Then she called Aaron. He was spending the summer getting paid by his parents to do odd jobs around the house and had plenty of free time. She knew he’d be psyched to hang out. But there was no answer.
Undaunted, she slipped on her tiniest bikini—fire-engine red with white swirls—and drove to his house. She arrived in record time and knocked repeatedly on the front door, but there was no response. She assumed his parents were at work and his little brother was at camp. Yet Aaron’s car was in the driveway.
She let herself in. “Aaron, you here?” she called once or twice.
No one answered. He was nowhere to be found. Her mind drifted to all those slasher movies in which the unsuspecting ingenue wandered into a nightmare, but other than the usual horrific clash of plaid and paisley in the den, nothing seemed wrong.
Except the noise. A sound like a cross between an aggressive vibrator and a broken muffler was coming from somewhere outside. She went out through the sliding door in the kitchen and was now sure the noise was coming from the shed. The yard was full of raked acorns, lopped off branches, and debris from chipped trees and trimmed bushes.
Fordham was walking gingerly across the lawn when a wayward branch snagged her bathing-suit top, tangling it up in the dead tree. She tried to pull away, but there was no way to do it without taking off her top. She was trapped. She was not going to undress in the yard, especially with neighbors in such close proximity. The noise finally stopped, and she was ready to scream for help when Bad Company’s “Feel Like Makin’ Love” started blasting.
Determined not to spend the day tied to a tree like a naughty cocker spaniel, she tried a new tactic. By jumping, she hoped to dislodge herself from the offending branches. With one final leap, she broke free, but her bikini top still dangled from the tree like a proud ornament. She was topless when Aaron emerged from the shed, holding a small lawn mower.
He squealed with delight to see her standing poised next to the tree like
a model on some pornographic version of Let’s Make a Deal. “Whoa. Damn. Did I forget it’s my birthday?”
She explained what had happened as she was untying her suit from the branches. But Aaron didn’t seem all that interested in her explanation or in retrieving her bikini top. He scooped her up and brought her over to a tuft of grass in a well-hidden shady spot behind the shed. The music continued to play, and the sun continued to shine as they made love in what would later become the Karps’ zucchini garden.
“FORDHAM?” MYRA WAS standing in front of her desk. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Why?”
“Because Abe buzzed you three times, and you didn’t answer.”
“Really? Sorry about that. I was thinking about a submission,” Fordham said. “A complicated one. Do you know what he wants?”
“No. He didn’t say.”
As it turned out, Abe wanted a comprehensive outline of all the submissions to present at a meeting later in the week. No big deal. She already had one. The day she’d taken over the project, she began structuring an overview of what she had, what she was getting, what she wanted, and a general feel for where everything was headed.
Their meeting was brief but informative. She headed back to her office, pumped. “Nice, Fordham, very nice,” she repeated to herself as she sat down at her desk. That high praise had come from Abe, who was more impressed than he should have been. For someone who kept telling her how smart and capable she was, she didn’t understand why he was so shocked that she’d come up with something useful on her own.
Another upside to the meeting was that Abe told her to take an extra-long lunch break, which then led to a discussion about Aaron. Fordham admitted that she’d been a little less focused since Aaron’s arrival, but she assured Abe that her work wouldn’t suffer for it. If anything, it would be motivating to have a romantic component to her life. Abe sounded cautiously optimistic and suggested that she take things very slowly.