by Sue Margolis
Some parents wander off. I’m guessing they’re the ones who are confident their kids won’t be knocked out in the early rounds. Others—anxious to be there to wipe away the tears of defeat—kick around the lobby or take walks on the school grounds. Mum says that she and Bernie are going to pop to the day center for a couple of hours. They’ll be back later. Since tea and coffee are still in demand, I decide to carry on helping Ginny man the refreshment counter. When we finally hit a lull, we sit ourselves down at the bottom of the staircase and drink tea.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you and Mike have made up,” she says. “Tanya and I were so upset when it looked like it had all gone pear-shaped.”
“Not half as upset as I was.”
“You are going to make each other very happy.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“You will. Mark my words.” Then she gives me a nudge. “All shipshape in the bedroom department?”
“Excellent, thank you.”
“Jolly good,” she says with a wink. “Just checking. At our age, you never know.”
“So … changing the subject, did you finish cleaning the house?”
“We most certainly did. And a thoroughly good job we made of it. I’ve even got somebody coming in to clean the carpets tomorrow.” She takes a mouthful of tea. “Mum’s left me the house, you know.”
“Actually I did know. She mentioned it when I was there.”
“And all her money.”
“I knew that, too. So she told you. I’m glad. She wasn’t planning on saying anything. And she made me promise to keep it a secret.”
“Really? That doesn’t surprise me. Why does she find it so much easier to open up to strangers? Anyway, she didn’t exactly say anything to me. All she did was present me with a copy of her will.”
“Oh, well … I suppose that’s a gesture at least. Are you surprised she’s left you everything?”
“I am. I always assumed she’d leave it to William … not that he needs it.”
“That’s what your mother said.”
“It’s funny … On one level, I’m overjoyed by what she’s done. It’s like winning the lottery. Lord only knows what that house must be worth—even though it’s so run-down. Once I’ve sold it, I’ll be able to help Emma get her business off the ground, buy her a house, me a flat … finally restore my bergère sofa. Gosh, I sound like I wish my mother dead, but you know what I mean.”
“Of course I do … but you said you were overjoyed only on one level.”
“Yes, because the money doesn’t make up for all the lost years. Given the choice, I would rather have had a mother who loved me.”
“She did love you. She still does.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she told me.”
“Well, she hasn’t told me.”
“Then you’ll have to take my word for it. She loves you very much.”
“I wish she could tell me.”
“Edith’s not dead yet. She might open up.”
“I doubt it.”
“Then you have to accept that her way of telling you she loves you was to leave you all her money.”
“Unless she’s only done it to assuage her guilt.”
“That’s bound to be part of it. But it’s not the whole story.”
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t know… .”
“So, now that you’ve got all this money, I bet you start dating,” I say.
“Excuse me. Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know. It occurs to me that you might find yourself thinking differently about men now that you don’t have to rely on one.”
Ginny laughs and says she hasn’t given it a moment’s thought.
“I bet I’m right,” I say.
“Who knows? If I’ve learned one thing lately, it’s that life really is full of surprises.”
I drain my teacup. “Ain’t that the truth?”
Ginny’s face brightens. “Oh, by the way, you’ll love this… . So I told my son that Mum had left me all her money and five minutes later my snobby daughter-in-law is on the phone saying it’s time Mason and Tyler got to know their cousin Ivo. Can you believe it? Now that I’ve moved up in the world, she wants us all to be friends. Suddenly we’re socially acceptable. Ridiculous, pointless woman.”
“What did you say?”
“What could I say? I want the cousins to know each other, too. And Ben has yet to meet his grandmother. So I was very gracious and said they should all come for tea. But part of me hopes that Mason and Tyler show Ivo how to set off fireworks.”
“You are evil.”
“I know.”
This reminds me that Sam hasn’t seen Mason and Tyler since the fireworks incident. I’m wondering if I can persuade him to warm to them again. I suggest to Ginny that we arrange another playdate.
“Judy, I know you mean well, but I don’t think you should force it with Sam—and certainly not out of courtesy to me. I suspect he’s still very angry with Mason and Tyler over the fireworks incident. Let Sam decide when he’s ready. And who knows? After a few months at a new school my two might have turned over a new leaf.”
So we agree that, for the time being, we won’t upset the status quo.
• • •
After lunch, Mum reappears with Bernie. They want to know how Sam’s doing. I tell them he’s hanging in there. While Bernie nips to the loo and Ginny is refilling the tea urn with fresh water, I ask Mum if Bernie is OK.
“Of course he’s OK. Why shouldn’t he be?”
“It’s just that I saw you two in a huddle earlier. I could be wrong, but I got the impression he was breaking bad news.”
“He was breaking news. But it wasn’t bad—at least not for him. He broke it off with Pearl.”
“Why?”
“He realized she wasn’t right for him. He said she was suffocating him. They’d only been going out a few weeks and already she was talking about getting married… . So he’s asked me out on a date.”
“Wow. That’s wonderful. So, what did you say?”
“I said yes.”
“So you admit you got him wrong.”
“The man has his faults—don’t we all? But the way he went out searching for Sam … the man’s a prince and I told him so.”
“He is. But it worries me that you’ll always be disagreeing about this boxing issue.”
“I also told him I’m never going to change my mind about it and that he can take it or leave it.”
“And he said?”
“He said he’ll take it. Says he doesn’t like ‘yes’ women. He prefers a good sparring partner. He also said he was impressed how I diagnosed his umbilical hernia.”
“Seriously? He found that sexy?”
“He likes the fact that I’m knowledgeable about health matters. He was even more impressed when the doctor confirmed my diagnosis. The doctor said it needs to be repaired, so he’s booked him in for surgery… . So, it’s a shame I wasted all that money on Estelle’s dating site. But who cares? Bernie’s taking me to a tea dance … at the Waldorf, would you believe? Apparently he’s a great dancer. And you know what they say about men who can dance… .”
“I don’t know. What do they say?”
My mother cackles and gives me a wink. “So I might start using my flat again after all. Just from time to time. So that Bernie and I can get a little privacy.”
• • •
Sam makes it through to the last round but one. He comes in fourth in the tournament, which means no trophy. He’s disappointed in himself—he brought his queen out too early in that final game. But he’s glad it’s over. Everybody is telling him that, bearing in mind what he’s been through in the last few days, fourth place is a heck of an achievement. Bernie engages him in a bit of gentle bobbing and weaving and calls him champ.
“And by me, you’re still a grand master,” Mum says.
We’re still congratulating him when Bogdan shows up. H
e says he’s just finished tutoring a child a few streets away and thought he would drop by to see how Sam was doing.
“Now suddenly he’s interested,” Mum mutters. “He couldn’t care less when Sam went missing. Didn’t even pick up the phone.”
“So you’re Bogdan,” Bernie says. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’ll be pleased to know that Sam came in fourth. Isn’t that amazing?”
Bogdan’s neck stiffens. His eyes widen. “Fourth? What are you telling me? How could he come in fourth?”
I tell Bogdan to ease up. “Please don’t do this. You know what Sam’s been through. He doesn’t need more stress.”
But Bogdan isn’t listening. He’s growling at Sam. “I thought you were a champion. Instead you blew it. So what went wrong?”
“I brought my queen out too early.”
“Of course you did.” Bogdan throws up his hands. “Why do you never listen? You are hopeless.”
I get hold of Bogdan’s arm. “OK. That’s enough. I think you should leave.”
He shakes me off. “You don’t understand. I have reputation to think about. Now he ruins it. He should have won.”
Sam is red with shame. I yell at Bogdan to get out. But he stays put, ranting about his ruined reputation.
Then it happens. Bernie with his broken nose from the night he beat Razor Robinson pulls himself up to his full six foot four and moves in on Bogdan. He towers over him.
“OK, sunshine. You’ve had your say. This is where it ends.” The next second he has Bogdan in an armlock. Bogdan cries out with pain and starts swearing in Russian.
My mother swears back at him.
While parents and contestants watch, agog, Bernie manhandles a sniveling, protesting Bogdan toward the exit. My mother chases after them, waving her arms and still ranting in Russian. When they reach the door, Mum opens it and Bernie kicks Bogdan’s backside, which has Sam in stitches.
Bernie rubs his hands and turns to Sam. “Take no notice of him. The man’s a yutz.”
“What’s a yutz?”
“You don’t want to know,” Mum says, shooting Bernie a look. “It’s a very bad word.”
“Cool. I’ll Google it when we get home.”
By now Rosie has arrived. School is over and her teacher, Miss Carter, has escorted her to the upper school. I thank her, tell her that I was about to come and fetch Rosie, but she says she wanted to find out how Sam had done. But she barely gets a look-in congratulations-wise. Rosie’s hero worship of her brother hasn’t abated and she’s hugging him and telling him to forget about the four Kinder Eggs he owes her.
Miss Carter says she’s anxious to miss the rush-hour traffic and should get going.
“Me, too,” Bernie says. He’s about to schlep out east to visit his daughter.
Rosie catches Mum planting a good-bye kiss on Bernie’s lips and demands to know if he’s her boyfriend.
“None of your beeswax, young lady,” Mum says.
“He is. He is.” Then she starts singing. “Nana’s got a boyfriend. Nana’s got a boyfriend.”
After Bernie has gone, Sam looks thoughtful. He turns to Mum. “Nana, I’ve decided. No matter what you think, I want to ask Bernie to be my chess coach.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Mum says. “He thinks you’re the cat’s pajamas. Plus he’s a born coach. He’d love it.”
“But when I mentioned it before you said no.”
“That was because I didn’t know Bernie very well. I’ve changed my mind.”
“Good. Because Bernie’s great.”
“Unlike that yutz Bogdan.”
“Nana, you just said yutz.”
“I know. I’m allowed. You’re not.”
I whisper to her that Abby and Tom might not approve of Sam being coached by Bernie. “I mean, he’s hardly your conventional chess coach.”
“Don’t worry. You leave Abby and Tom to me.”
Mum has hardly finished her sentence when Rosie starts squealing at the top of her lungs. “Mummee! Daddee!” Abby and Tom have just walked in. She charges toward them, followed by her brother. Their parents drop their rucksacks and open their arms. The children launch themselves with such gusto that Abby and Tom almost lose their balance. Mum and I watch the hugging, the hair ruffling, the swinging in the air.
Abby and Tom are frantically apologizing for missing the tournament. “We’d have been here an hour ago if it hadn’t been for the damn traffic.”
“Don’t worry. It’s OK,” Sam says. “I came in fourth. I messed up in the last game ’cos I let my queen out too early. Are you disappointed?”
“Disappointed? How could we possibly be disappointed? Mum and I are really proud of you.”
“Of course we are,” Abby says. “Incredibly proud.”
“But you’re crying,” Sam says, noticing the tears falling down his dad’s face. “So’s Mum.”
Tom wipes his cheek. “Only because we’re so happy to see you guys.”
“We’ve missed you so much,” Abby says. “You’ve no idea.”
“So we’re still going to Disneyland Paris, right?” Rosie says. “Remember you signed an agreement.”
“How could we possibly forget?”
Mum says Abby and Tom look thin and worn-out.
“So would you if you’d been through what they’ve been through.” I take a breath. “Time for me to face the music, I guess. Do you think they’ll forgive me for what happened to Sam?”
“Don’t be daft. Of course they will. Anyway, once they hear the full story, they’ll realize there’s nothing much to forgive.”
“I let him down. You never stopped believing in him.”
“Oh, please. Enough already. You were worn-out… . I wasn’t the one on the front line. Now stop fretting. Let’s just go and say hello.”
We approach gingerly, reluctant to disturb the family reunion. By now Abby is holding Rosie. Tom has Sam.
“Right,” Abby is saying. “We want to hear all your news.”
“There’s loads and loads,” Rosie says. “Sam and me have given up boring after-school clubs like French and Sam started firing a gun in class and he let off fireworks in the street. Then Seb said he stole an iPad but he didn’t but then Sam ran away from home because he was so upset and the police came and they searched for him with helicopters and then they found him asleep on a train and he wants this man Bernie to be his chess coach ’cos he’s more fun than Bogdan, who yells. Then Sam stole my Star of David and gave it back and Grandma has a boyfriend. It’s Seb’s granddad and they’ve been mouth-kissing, which is gross, and Nana has a boyfriend as well, and they’ve been mouth-kissing, too, which is even more gross… .”
© Jonathan Margolis
Sue Margolis was a radio reporter for fifteen years before turning to novel writing. She is the author of A Catered Affair, Coming Clean, Best Supporting Role, and Losing Me. She lives in England with her husband and has three adult children and two grandchildren.
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