Fate and Ms. Fortune

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Fate and Ms. Fortune Page 20

by Saralee Rosenberg


  “I can’t breathe.”

  “So tell me.”

  “Well, first thing she said is, ditch the friend who sent you here. You can’t trust her.”

  “She did not.”

  “Fine. But she did say that you are insanely jealous of me.”

  “Don’t I tell you all the time I’d give anything for your ivory complexion?”

  “Rach, I don’t think I can drive now…I am so blown away.”

  “Oh my God. Pull over then. I didn’t know you were in the car. Where are you?”

  “Still in Massapequa…oh wait, there’s a Dunkin’ Donuts…Two toasted coconuts and one of those six-thousand-calorie lattes, and I should have enough gas to get to JFK.”

  “Do it later. Toby and Devin have friends over, another set of twins, only girls, and I have to keep my eye on them so they don’t start looking down each other’s underpants again.”

  “Are you kidding me? They’re not even four.”

  “It’s perfectly normal…That whole penis envy stage…Mine are so in love with theirs I have to bribe them to put it away…Now c’mon. Spill it.”

  “Okay.” I turned off the car. “Basically she said that my parents will work things out but that my brother and Patti are going to split, which shocked me because they fight like crazy, but it’s been that way from the beginning, so who would suspect? But according to her—”

  “I don’t care about Patti and Phillip. Tell me about you…are you going to be okay?”

  “Yes. In fact she said things would be amazing for me…I’m definitely getting a TV deal.”

  “Fabulous. What did she say about Ken?”

  “Wow. Let’s cut to the chase. If I’m not ending up with him, maybe there’s hope for you.”

  “I didn’t say that…Look, I told you. I called him on a whim, but he’s not my type.”

  “He’s not?”

  “No. He’s perfect. I prefer men who are deeply flawed.”

  “Oh believe me, then Kenny’s your boy. He has more flaws than a Fendi knock off.”

  “But does she see you hooking up with him?”

  “Not sure. She saw me with a guy who sounded so great I wanted to run out and buy monogrammed towels.”

  “But it wasn’t him?”

  “I don’t know. She just described him as someone from my past who suddenly comes back into my life, and our families know each other…”

  “Oh. Then that’s him.”

  “No, because she also described him as this really sweet guy who you liked as soon as you met, which is definitely not Ken…Oh my God…”

  “What?”

  “I bet she was talking about Josh.”

  “Who?”

  “Nooo. I don’t want to marry Josh.”

  “I repeat. Who is Josh? Wait. Was he the one who lived on his boat and wouldn’t date you until you passed your deep water test?”

  “No. That was Justin. Josh is someone I went to high school with, and now it turns out, nursery school too, and the other night, he suddenly showed up at my door and he looked great…”

  “He sounds perfect.”

  “Would you stop? I know what you’re doing, okay?”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. Ken is so cute. And we have so much in common. We’re both attorneys, we both love to ski and travel and—”

  “I’m hanging up now. I very much appreciated your gift. I’ll have my thank you note in the mail by Tuesday…Please don’t ever call me again.”

  “Stop. Don’t be like that.”

  “Remember before when I told you Annette said to ditch you because I couldn’t trust you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She really said that.”

  But as I drove to the airport, it wasn’t Annette’s advice about Rachel that kept repeating on me, it was her remarks about my unlucky streak.

  “I can’t believe you think you’re unlucky,” she said. “You grew up in a nice house in a nice neighborhood with parents who loved you. You had friends, got to take great vacations, you went away to camp, to college, you got an education, a job, you’re beautiful, smart, talented. Don’t you get it? You’ve been blessed with everything you needed to have a great life.”

  “Except for a husband who broke my heart and left me with more bills than a session of Congress.”

  “And you’ve come out of it smarter and tougher…Are you the same person anymore?”

  “No. I used to be happy. Now I’m lonely and depressed and I don’t trust people.”

  “You will trust again. You just need to think about your role in all of this. You knew he was a gambler, yet you convinced your self that once you were settled, you’d make him so happy, he wouldn’t need his addictions.”

  Exactly.

  “Then you thought if you handled the money, he couldn’t spend it without your knowing.”

  I started to cry.

  “Then you thought if you threatened to leave him or turn him into the authorities, he’d have no choice but to straighten out.”

  “He said that’s why he married me.” I reached for the tissues.

  “I know. He thought you would be his savior, only he didn’t want to be saved…You just have to remember next time you’re in a bad situation like this, don’t wait to be rescued. Get in there and fix it yourself…There is no AAA for life. It’s up to us to repair what’s broken. Which doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help, it just means you’re in charge of making sure you get it.”

  “I tried so hard with David, but so what? When it was all over, we were in worse shape than when I left him alone.”

  “Don’t you get it? You suffered a tremendous loss, and I don’t just mean financially. But now you have to decide. Do you want to be miserable for the rest of your life and blame him? Or do you say, Well, that really blew, but I’m going to learn from it and move on?”

  “I get it. I was an enabler. But what about my brother? He died before I was born and my parents never recovered. How was I supposed to fix that?”

  “Things don’t have to necessarily be our fault in order to learn from them. Sometimes, it’s just enough to figure out how to survive…but don’t you see? You saved their lives.”

  “Um, no. They didn’t even notice me until I was five.”

  “Which is why you’re so funny. You had to get their attention and you did it with your great humor…and because of that, you brought all this laughter back into the house.”

  “I guess.”

  “No, I mean it. You were blessed with an incredible gift…It’s got to be the greatest feeling to make people laugh, and you are so good at it. I promise your life will turn around once you put all of this in perspective.”

  Of course I knew Annette had given me wonderful advice, but it wasn’t her wise counsel that almost caused me to have an accident on the Grand Central Parkway. It was an offhand comment she made about Ken and me having been thrown together over the years.

  “You mean it was fate?” I asked.

  “Partly,” she said. “Which was helped along by a little plan. Ask your mom what I’m talking about.”

  Chapter 21

  DON’T YOU LOVE the days when things are going great? Nobody pisses you off at work, your hair looks good, you find a twenty in your raincoat? And then one little thing happens that freaks you out and you’re banging on the vending machine so the Hostess Cupcakes come out faster.

  Annette’s vision of my future was so positive, I should have left her house floating on a cloud. Instead, I was so thrown by her last comment, I stuffed my face with Dunkin’ Donuts.

  She had said that it wasn’t pure fate that had brought Ken and me together, it was a plan I should ask my mom about. Ask her what? Did she intentionally send me to the same nursery school, camp, and college as Ken?

  No way. When I was little, my mother was so out of sorts, she couldn’t even remember to take me to nursery school, let alone orchestrate a strategy that would guarantee Ken and I would be in the same place at the same tim
e.

  Sadly, Annette had to be mistaken, which meant that the rest of her predictions were bogus too. And yet there were so many details she’d nailed. The story of my wedding rings. The details of my divorce. The fact that I was an artist and a performer. The Pamela Anderson connection with my comedy special.

  I was so bewildered thinking about the reading, I didn’t recognize the woman who was waving to me in baggage claim. Good God. She was wearing so many different colors it looked like she had a run in with a Sherwin-Williams truck. Only to realize “she” was my mother.

  You had to see this getup. A tight, pink peasant top that screamed, They ran out of larges. A long skirt with bright, neon flowers. High-heeled silver sandals in search of a maid of honor. Turquoise jewelry that could seat four, and the straw hat the Queen Mother wore to meet friends for lunch.

  And get this. Her traveling companion wore a matching outfit, so that you weren’t sure if they were gay or just a dysfunctional mother/daughter duo who still thought it was adorable to dress alike.

  Yep. Sierra. Minus the oversized sweats, the purple hair, the piercings, and the painted black lips. It was Godzilla meets Pretty Woman.

  “Yoo hoo! Toots!” My mother blew a kiss. “Over here.”

  “Look at you guys.” I hugged her. “What did you do? Strip the mannequins at the mall?”

  Sierra stopped smiling.

  “What’s the matter with you?” my mother scolded me. “I think Sierrapaigemather looks classy now.”

  Yeah. The Class of ’46. “You do look great, Sierrapaigemather.” I coughed. “Love the skirt. Hope you brought me one.”

  “Oh, can it, blondie.” She glared. “You’re so full of shit I don’t know how you sit down.”

  Yep. It was her.

  “I’m serious. You look very together.” For a retired teacher. What? No brooch? “Did you like Phoenix?”

  “She loved it!” My mother clapped. “And we had a ball, didn’t we?”

  “Definitely.” Sierra gave a thumbs-up. “Your mom is a piss.”

  “Oh I know.”

  “No, I mean it.” She took my arm. “Your mom is a very cool lady. You should treat her better…Hey Sheil, you still got the cookies from the plane? I’m starvin’…”

  “I treat her fine,” I said. “But it’s nice that you got along so well.” Normal people want to strangle her after a day. You lasted an entire week. It’s like the miracle of Hanukkah.

  “How come you didn’t answer my e-mail?” My mother gave Sierra the cookies while searching for the right baggage carousel.

  “You sent me an e-mail?” I tried to keep pace.

  “Yes-sir-ee bob. You shoulda told me it was so easy.”

  “Hmm. I wonder if I deleted it not knowing it was from you. What’s your screen name?”

  “I gotta remember that too? First the cell phone number, then my e-mail name, then your address in Brooklyn so I can get my regular mail…”

  “You’re staying?”

  “Sure I’m staying. What did you do? Rent the room already?”

  “No. I just thought that maybe once you had time to think, you’d reconsider…”

  “She’s not going home.” Sierra spit out her gum. “You gotta problemo with that?”

  “I have a big problemo.” I gave her a look. “It’s where she lives.”

  “[email protected],” my mother shouted. “Wasn’t that it?”

  “Yeah.” Sierra burped.

  “That’s sweet, Mom.” I ignored Sierra. “What screen name did you use for me?”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake. I sent a lousy e-mail, not took over as secretary-general.”

  “Fine. Then what did the e-mail say?”

  Sierra pulled me aside. “This is what she wrote: Dear Barbie, Please hook up with Ken so you can buy a pink house, drive a pink convertible, and live happily ever after with your pink kids.”

  “Is that true?” I looked at my mom. “Was it about Ken?”

  “You betcha, Toots. I think it’s great that you two finally met.”

  “You mean you’re glad that your little scheme finally worked…”

  “What little scheme? All I said was I would be so happy if you two got together.”

  “He’s an asshole, okay? He took advantage of my generosity and Daddy’s time and didn’t so much as send a token of his—”

  “What did you mean by a scheme?” my mother interrupted. “You think I had something to do with fixing you up?”

  “I don’t know. I just found out about all these amazing coincidences which sound awfully fishy…How do I know you and his mom didn’t conspire to—”

  “You’ve said a lot of stupid things in your day, but that takes the cake.”

  “Yeah.” Sierra yawned. “Really stupid.”

  “For your information,” Sheil said, “I haven’t been friendly with his mother in thirty years. Furthermore, I am sick and tired of hearing all these crazy accusations that I interfere in your life.”

  “Really. You swear you had nothing to do with this?”

  “Not me,” she said. “Your father!”

  My father? The guy who couldn’t assemble a simple toy if the manufacturer sent over the guy who designed it? He was the mastermind behind some cockamamie plan to keep two kids in the line of sight of each other? No way. She was lying. But on a positive note, maybe this was the sign that Annette wasn’t a crock after all.

  Thank God Sierra agreed to be dropped off at her mother and Simon’s Upper East Side apartment. I needed to speak to Sheil in private, and hell if I wanted the goo girl putting in her two cents, which she’d probably borrow from me anyway.

  Only to get home and have the ordinarily chatty Sheila claim to be too tired to talk. But not too tired to see if our neighbors were up for a last-minute game of mahj, and to ask what I had in the freezer to serve, and didn’t I know I was running low on napkins?

  Finally we reached a compromise. She would rest for an hour, then we would talk over dinner, then she could do whatever the hell she wanted. Which was fine, as it gave me time to check my messages, return phone calls, and get my dad, Dr. Brainiac, on the phone.

  He was happy to hear that my mother had arrived safely, but not happy to hear that Ken hadn’t called me since I took him home. Still, it gave me the perfect opening to pose the question. Had he been in cahoots with Ken’s family so that we’d go to the same camp and schools?

  No, absolutely not, what would ever possess me to ask such a ridiculous thing? But if I’d learned anything from watching Gretchen all these years, it was how to get a source to talk.

  “I know you’re hiding something, Daddy. You’re breathing extra hard.”

  “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Do you swear on my life that you never made special arrangements with the Danzigers?”

  Silence.

  “Daddy?”

  “Why did you have to say swear on your life? Never say that to a parent who lost a child.”

  “Sorry. I’ll rephrase the question.”

  “What are you? A lawyer?”

  “No, a lawyer’s sister…Now I know you’re not telling me something and if I have to, I’ll—”

  “Fine. You caught me. Yes, I had a plan. Are you happy now?”

  “Are you serious? Oh my God. No, I’m not happy. What do you mean you had a plan? Were you so afraid I’d never find a guy on my own?”

  “What are you talking about? This had nothing to do with you.”

  “What are you talking about? Why else would you do this?”

  “For your mother.”

  “What?”

  “Because it’s like I told you. She was in very bad shape after we lost the baby. She refused to see a psychiatrist, she barely spoke to Aunt Marilyn, me she couldn’t even look at…It got so bad, she stopped leaving the house.

  “So one day I’m telling Howie how bad things are getting and he says to me how much Judy misses her, and maybe if you and Kenny were in the same nursery sch
ool class, then your mother would run into her again, and Judy could try to reach out to her.”

  “Oh my God.” I burst into tears. “He sounds like such a nice man.” Unlike his son.

  “Only it didn’t help. Your mother would drop you off without getting out of the car. Any time the parents were invited to school, she’d make me go. The teachers would ask her to chaperone a field trip, she’d first ask who else had volunteered.”

  “But you said they were such good friends.”

  “That’s what happens when you’re in a deep depression…I couldn’t even mention Judy’s name without her getting all worked up…didn’t I know how hard it was to see Judy and have to hear all about Seth’s accomplishments, or see how big he was getting. All it did was remind her that Todd was gone…”

  “This is so sad.” I sniffed. “But why keep trying?”

  “Because Howie kept saying how Judy was still hoping that Sheila would talk to her again if they found something new in common.”

  “But then we moved.”

  “Right. And little by little, things did get better. She started to come out of her depression. She started teaching violin again…But God forbid I should ever bring up Judy and Howie’s names? Don’t ask…”

  “So then how did we end up at Lohikan together?”

  “Well, in spite of everything, Howie and I stayed in touch. One day we got on the subject of sleepaway camps and he suggested I send Phillip and you to the one his boys were going to because they loved it, and if you did go, then we could all bump into each other on visiting day.”

  “Are you serious? This sounds like the plot of an espionage film.”

  “Except no happy ending…At first I thought, this is a bad idea. What am I doing stirring the pot again? We had finally settled into a comfortable life, you and Phillip were happy, we had friends and neighbors…just leave well enough alone.

  “But one day, out of the blue, your mother tells me how she was looking in the basement for her tennis racket and found the fondue set that Howie and Judy gave us, and she wondered how they were doing. So I said pick up the phone and call her. But no, she can’t do that. She was afraid Judy would think too many years had gone by…Of course I didn’t dare tell her I was still in touch with Howie and I knew Judy would love to hear from her.

 

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