A Daughter's a Daughter

by Irene Vartanoff

  Linley didn’t sound impatient when she picked up, just busy.

  “Hi, Mom, what’s up?”

  “Dear, I have the days and times when Magda could come get the gift money.”

  “Could you email them? I’m kind of pressed right now.”

  “Oh. Of course. I will. Have a good day, dear. Sorry to interrupt.” She put a good face on being told bluntly her daughter had no time to speak to her. It could have been worse, but there still was an ache because Linley didn’t automatically want to make time to talk to her.

  She ought to get used to emailing instead of trying to make personal contact. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know how to. She had sent plenty of emails at the office. She had been operating on an old-fashioned paradigm it was more polite to call someone. Maybe sometimes that was true. She wouldn’t have wanted to miss Magda’s joy on hearing the good news today.

  Bothering her very busy daughter was a mistake. Or interrupting anybody else who had work to do. If she wanted to take the world by storm on behalf of the deserving, maybe she should get out of her twentieth-century mindset.

  After she’d carefully composed and sent her email, she felt as if she had conquered something important. It had been silly of her to think every communication had to be a phone call. Especially when she hated calling. Maybe she’d even learn how to text. Or Twitter. Tweet. Whatever.

  How ironic that in the midst of congratulating herself for not using the phone, she got a call. From Bruce.

  “Hello,” she said in a tentative voice. Another reason to switch to email. Then nobody could hear her hesitation.

  “Pam, glad I caught you. I want to tell you what happened this afternoon. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Of course,” she said. What could possibly have gone wrong? Why was he calling?

  “You know that public park on the edge of town? Of Glenvale Village, that is?”

  “Yes.” Where was this leading?

  “Yappie and I were returning from exploring the town park when we found your mother sitting on a sidewalk bench. She said she was waiting for her hair appointment, but she was way on the other side of town. I’m pretty sure she had gotten confused about where the salon was.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because it looked as if she’d been sitting there a while and was worn out. She was napping before Yappie barked his hello.”

  “It’s an odd place for a nap, but she probably was about to stir herself and go to the salon,” Pam said. Bruce had gotten the wind up for no reason.

  “Maybe she would have. Maybe not. Anyway, I escorted her there, and I got the salon owner, Betty, to make sure to usher Dorothy back to her car afterwards. By my calculations, even assuming your mother drives like most old people, a good ten miles under the speed limit, she got lost on the way home. It was two hours before she drove up next door.”

  “She probably went grocery shopping.” As she said it, she remembered her mother had her groceries delivered.

  “She didn’t have any packages with her. Plus, she looked completely exhausted when she got out of her car.”

  “You said she made it home okay,” she protested. “You’re wrong about my mother. She’s one of the most together, focused, competent women alive. She probably got tired and sat down to wait for her appointment, as she told you.”

  “Don’t you understand? Dorothy is faking it. She didn’t even recognize Yappie or me at first.”

  “No way.” He was talking nonsense. Not Dorothy. “Why do you think such a thing?”

  “I could see the blank expression in her eyes. She was out of it.”

  He was wrong. He had to be. Her mother was fine. “Now I see why you’re a writer. You’re very imaginative.”

  “That’s low. I am not seeing what isn’t there.” There was outrage in his voice. He continued, speaking each word distinctly. “I’m trying to warn you. Your mother needs help. She needs someone to make sure she doesn’t sit on public benches because she’s lost or drive around for hours because she can’t find the way home.”

  “You mean it kindly, but I think you’re mistaken,” Pam said firmly. He was seeing trouble where there was none. Dorothy was the same strong person she’d always been. “My mother is able to take care of herself.”

  “You’re in denial. Or maybe you don’t care.” He sounded frustrated. “I thought you were a concerned, loving daughter. My mistake.”

  He said a curt “Good bye.”

  She burst into tears. He wasn’t fair. Of course she loved her mother.

  This was why she didn’t date. Who needed a domineering male around to dictate what to think and how to behave? She’d like to smack him. The nerve. Telling her she was in denial. Then as good as hanging up on her. What gave him the right? So what if two nights ago, he had made her groan with pleasure as he kissed his way up her back?

  All she wanted was a quiet life. No drama. She didn’t need a new romance or a new man. She definitely didn’t need someone saying her mother was losing her marbles. Although maybe she’d better call Alexander and consult with him. She hadn’t seen much of her mother until lately. Her brother saw Dorothy frequently until he moved out of state. Why did he have to move? Was their mother now Pam’s responsibility? They hadn’t discussed it. He’d announced his plans and gone. How could he do that to them all? Men could be so annoying.

  Right now, Bruce topped her list. She and he had not made any firm plans for the next few weeks since he knew she had to be near the city to deal with initiating her foundation. Now, she guessed, their personal relationship was over. Good riddance. He was a nosy neighbor, bent on interfering in their lives.

  True, he was handsomer than most nosy neighbors. A great kisser. A pleasant lover. He still was an interloper. She was better off ignoring him from now on.

  #

  Bruce hung up the phone before he let his big mouth run away with him any more. Too late. The damage had been done. Pam had her back up over this. She was in full-blown denial. Damn her, why wouldn’t she listen? Dorothy needed a companion. He’d seen the piles of papers in the dining room and the other spots around the house the other day. The old girl was giving it a game try, but life was getting to be too much for her. That’s what happened when the formerly super-competent started to slow down. Dorothy had been a real go-getter by all accounts. Betty practically revered her.

  Pam had as much as told him to get the hell out of their family business. He ought to, but he needed Dorothy. He needed her to be healthy, and to be willing and able to talk to him about the past. As for Pam, her stubbornness didn’t detract from her appeal. If anything, it proved she didn’t have ice running in her veins despite her demure presentation. He already knew that from their times in bed. She could be a fiery partner, not only responsive, but taking the lead, too. His body’s immediate reaction to his thoughts reminded him that he’d better think of something else. He and Pam might be on the outs for a while.

  He’d keep a more careful eye on Dorothy. Damn Pam for being so stubborn.

  #

  Dorothy put her keys and her purse on the hall table as she always did. She must have been out a long time. She was exhausted and hungry. How silly of her. She should have ordered a sustaining entree at lunch instead of a salad. She didn’t need to diet anymore. No, wait. She’d gone to get her hair done, not to lunch with the girls. She should be able to keep track of a life as simple as hers was now.

  Food. That’s what she needed. Then a rest. She always did better after a rest. She shuffled into the kitchen and opened the icebox. Icebox, that’s what she had called a refrigerator when she was young, because the ice man used to come around the neighborhood and use his giant metal tongs and place a huge piece of ice in the box over the cooler. Had he come once a week? She didn’t remember anymore.

  Ah, there was one of the pre-made meals she had taken to ordering from the deli. No cooking involved. She’d always hated to cook. As soon as Malcolm began to make any kind of money, s
he’d hired a housekeeper. Dear old Nancy had died a few years ago. Finding a replacement hadn’t worked out. She had never been good at languages, and she had a hard time communicating with the two successive women she had tried. Plus, they didn’t know how to cook the food she liked. Perhaps she had been too fussy, but she hadn’t tried again. She made do quite nicely with what the local stores delivered. Alexander came over once a month with a batch of meals his wife had cooked up. Although he hadn’t come around lately. Oh, that’s right. He’d moved to North Carolina. Or South Carolina, she'd forgotten which.

  Chapter 21

  Linley was at her cubicle late the next evening. She had already put in long hours, but she still hadn’t thought of a video hook that would entice the general public to watch their new program. On Jason’s show, he and she continued to cultivate a businesslike yet feisty image. What would make their offshoot more attractive? Bits of her and Jason getting scrappy with each other? Those could easily get too personal. Because of that nutso email about becoming a media item, she suspected that was the core of Marty’s plan. Evidently, her effort to educate herself about journalism had not impressed Marty with her inquiring mind. Instead, he’d thought of her as a pretty young blonde who could be a visual foil for Jason. Marty was shrewd enough to notice the chemistry between them. Seeing potential possibilities was his job, even if he’d gone for a tacky sexual attraction publicity concept.

  She’d received the okay for a tiny segment on the Today Show. It was a coup, considering other big companies had tossed out thousands of workers by now and Magda’s plight was one of many sad stories. This time, she warned her mom in advance that she would not have time to entertain her after the early call.

  The next morning, Linley watched as Magda played her part, looking suitably miserable and yet uplifted and determined when she was handed the pile of letters containing checks. Linley had been the one who’d had the idea of letting Magda and Pam have a desk so they could open every envelope, photocopy each one and each check, to make sure they kept proper track of the gifts. They did footage of the two women working on the pile, which Linley narrated with some on-camera time, too. Magda’s rapt, reverent expression conveyed volumes. Then Matt interviewed the women live. Magda brokenly expressed her gratitude. “My son may stay in university. I will work. Soon I will find the job. This is America. God bless the wonderful land.”

  Matt had turned to her mother next.

  “Pam, I understand you’re trying to do more to help people caught in catastrophic job loss situations.”

  Her mother had straightened her back and responded with a pleasant, hopeful attitude. “That’s right, Matt, I’ve started the Bright Side Foundation, a charity that will seek donations to help displaced workers like Magda who do qualify for unemployment pay, but who need additional, immediate assistance.”

  Matt pointed at the piles of envelopes. “Looks like the public wants to help.”

  “People have warm hearts. As Magda said, this is a wonderful country. I’m also going to approach financial executives who took enormous bonuses and see if any of them can spare something for the workers they’ve left in such a bad way.”

  “Are you expecting a positive response from these billionaires with their private jets?” he asked in a skeptical manner.

  “I believe every person wants to be thought of as a good, decent human being,” Pam said it with firm conviction. “A donation is proof of good intentions.” She looked almost like a crusader for a second. Like Grandma Dorothy.

  Matt ended the piece with a reminder to check the Bright Side website for contact info if people wanted to donate to Pam’s new foundation.

  Linley hadn’t thought her mother had it in her. Was she actually intending to confront her old bosses and wring money out of them? This was all big talk for now. Pam hadn’t done much yet. Still, Linley was impressed. Her mother had never shown so much initiative in the public sphere before.

  Pam surprised her again by giving her a piece of paper and asking if Linley could round up the contact information for the financial executives listed.

  “Sure, Mom. I’ve probably got most of it already at my desk.” Then she gave in to the inevitable with as good a grace as she could, and made the expected offer.

  “Would you and Magda like to come upstairs while I grab it? We can give Magda a tour, too.”

  “Oh, no, dear. Just email me. We have more letters to process.” Pam said they intended to get to the bank right away, to set up an account for Magda and deposit all the gift money.

  “Okay. I’ll send you the contact info. And Magda, congratulations.”

  To Linley’s surprise, Magda stopped looking at envelopes, and leaped up and gave her a hug.

  “Your mother is the angel from heaven,” Magda said. “Respect always.” The short, stocky woman with her heavy eyebrows managed to look quite fierce.

  As Linley left, the two older women returned to their counting.

  Returning upstairs to her cramped little cubicle, a far cry from the lavish Today Show quarters, she wondered if Magda had been saying she respected Pam, or telling Linley she ought to respect Pam.

  At least her mother hadn’t been clingy this time around. Hadn’t demanded Linley take time out of her busy schedule to entertain her. Linley was used to her mother wanting something from her. Not overtly, of course, but there was an underlying begging attitude. It brought out Linley’s worst, most perverse desire not to respond to her mother’s desperation.

  This time, Pam had only wanted names and phone numbers. Maybe their relationship had progressed to something more adult than mother and child. Which would be good, because she was a grown woman now, and Pam had never quite acted as if she believed that.

  Accepting the gift of the condo was different. That was from her father. She missed her dad. He had always spoiled her, giving her everything she asked for, complimenting her looks and her achievements in school. He was the one to whom she had confided her ambition to become a media personality. He had encouraged her, and overridden her mother’s concerns. Before his death, Linley had been hired in her first media spot. He’d had reason to be proud of her. She missed him so much. She wished he could be around to see her big moment.

  Come to think of it, she hadn’t told her mother about the new show.

  #

  Pam and Magda had needed hours to count all the money and record all the vital information from each giver. Some people gave anonymously, which made her own secret addition of a postal money order to the pile no big thing. Except for the dollar amount, which was as much as she could safely spare.

  Then there was the triumphant trip to Magda’s bank, with that nice young man from the studio as their bodyguard. Magda was so happy she was floating. They had to constantly remind her of where they were walking. The money had added up to enough to pay her portion for the entire first year. She was saved. Even in this tough economy, Magda would get another job before next year. She had grit. She had dared to leave her homeland and come to a new country. Magda would soon find her feet again. Until she did, she’d help Pam with the foundation.

  Afterwards, they had said goodbye to their escort. Then the two former coworkers parted at the subway.

  “You’ll be okay now. You’re strong, and Marc will be a big success at Harvard,” Pam said, patting her shoulder.

  “You are the good woman,” Magda replied, tears in her eyes. “God will reward you.” They hugged.

  The first chapter in Pam’s new life was over.

  Pam took the commuter train home and started thinking about her next step. Magda’s happy ending had been a windfall. Finding big money to fund the foundation would be harder, but Pam would see this through. It was an important, worthy cause and she received a selfish benefit from it. The work gave her a reason to wake up with enthusiasm every morning. For the first time in years, her days felt exciting and full of promise. Spending so much time learning and planning, she’d been sleeping more soundly too, a nice extra. Of c
ourse, there were moments she couldn’t get to sleep because her mind churned fearfully about her upcoming interviews with CEOs.

  She had seen a new light in Linley’s eyes today. Could it be that simply by nerving herself to make the effort to help people, she was on track to win back her daughter’s long-absent respect and affection? Oh, if only that could be true.

  She should call Dorothy and brag. See if her mother had gotten up early to watch the show. Linley had said she would call her grandmother to alert her.

  As soon as she got home, she called on the landline. It had better sound than the cell phone, and never dropped a call, either. The phone rang and rang, and finally Dorothy answered in a breathless tone.

  “Hi, Mom. Did I wake you?” It was two p.m. Had Dorothy been napping because she’d been up early?

  “No, of course not.” Her voice was stronger now. “Don’t be silly, Pamela.”

  “Did you watch us on TV again?”

  “Yes, and you looked straight into the camera. That was good. The audience takes it to mean you are honest.”

  “I’m glad. If I go on some program by myself to pitch the foundation, I’ll want the viewers to trust me.”

  “They will, dear,” her mother assured her, but in a distracted tone of voice. There was some noise and interruption, and then Dorothy came back on the line. “It’s time for me to go walking with Yappie and that nice young man next door.”

  Was he truly nice? Why was he spending so much time with her mother, anyway? Dorothy was a fascinating person, of course. Perhaps Bruce simply missed his family and his friends, and wanted company.

  “You mean Bruce? You’re still going on that daily walk together?”

  “Why not?” her mother’s voice came through rather sharply as if to ask why Pam was daring to question her.

  “I…uh…I, oh, forget it,” she said, backing down. “Enjoy your walk, Mom.”

  “I shall. Bruce is here now. He says hello. He wants to know when you’re coming out here again.”