What's Your Number

by Karyn Bosnak

  Oh my God . . . that’s twenty.

  I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this is over.

  I didn’t expect it to end so abruptly. I’m in shock.

  Suddenly I let out a little laugh. By God, Kyle was right.

  “What’s so funny?” Colin asks.

  “Life,” I say. “Just life.”

  With that, I begin laughing hysterically. I laugh about Muppets and puppets, bitches and studs, macaroni and cheese, cowboys and Indians, Thumper and my bumper, and Nifty and her pimple. I laugh and laugh and laugh. I actually may die laughing.

  “Del, are you okay?” Colin sounds concerned.

  “Yes—I’ll—be—fine,” I manage to say between guffaws, giggles, chuckles, and chortles. “Really—I’ll—be—fine . . .”

  $65, 11 days, 0 guys left.

  * * *

  1 Nowadays I’d pretend he was Prince William. Actually, maybe Prince Harry. He seems like he’d be much more fun to hang out with.

  Chapter fifteen

  *Beep*

  Del, Michelle . . . I got it! I got the job at Vintage Vogue! I can’t believe it—I’m so excited! Listen, I’m glad you’re home safely and I’m not angry anymore, so call me, okay?

  *Beep*

  Hey, Darlin’ . . . it’s Grandpa. Just got your message. Darnit! I can’t believe I missed you! If I knew you were coming out, I would’ve rescheduled our trip.

  Listen . . . sorry to whisper, but I gotta talk to you about something private. I feel silly asking, but I don’t know who else to turn to—I’m thinking about waxing my chest and have a couple questions. Can you call me? Love you. Bye.

  *Beep*

  Delilah, this is Patsy calling on your mother’s behalf. She’s a little fragile right now due to a letter she received—I’m sure you’re aware of it. She wanted me to remind you that you have an appointment at Saks to have your dress tailored after the tasting today. I sure hope it fits. Daisy insisted on ordering you a size 8, even though both your mom and I told her to get you a twelve. Bye!

  a taste of things to come

  monday, may 16

  I’m still in bed, but I’m home. I tried to drop my car off in LA and fly back, but doing so would’ve cost me close to two thousand dollars, so I drove. I don’t have two thousand dollars. I don’t have anything. I don’t own my own company. I don’t even have a job. I don’t own a loft in Tribeca. I can’t even pay my rent. I don’t have a husband or a family. I don’t even have a boyfriend.

  The only thing I have is a dog.

  But she’s a good dog, the best, in fact. On the way home from LA, I told Eva Gabor she was my best friend. We were somewhere in Oklahoma at the time, listening to “Mandy” by Barry Manilow, the song that is rumored to have been written for someone’s dog who died or something. As Barry came through my speakers, I wondered what I’d do if I didn’t have her. “Oh Mandy! Well you came and you gave without taking! Oh Mandy! You kissed me and stopped me from shaking!” When the song ended, tears were streaming down my face. I turned to Eva Gabor and told her how special she was, and she blinked, like she always does, and then smiled, which she hasn’t done since the day I got her. That’s when I told her the good news about being my best friend. To celebrate her new title, I sang a Cat Stevens song to her called “I Love My Dog” and fed her string cheese. It made her constipated.

  Singing Cat Stevens got me thinking about Nate again, which made me more depressed than I already was because he never called back. I’m so pathetic. I can’t even get a guy who was in jail to return a phone call.

  I thought I was so clever in doing this. I thought I was getting around Daniel’s advice to analyze each guy by tracking them all down, but I wasn’t. In fact, I ended up doing just what he wanted me do, only more in depth. Rather than skimming the surface of each relationship while sitting at home, I dove in headfirst by finding them all. What was I thinking? Daniel thought doing this would bring me clarity, but it didn’t. If anything, it’s made me more confused and depressed than I was before I started. Depressed because every guy on my list was a mistake. I regret them all. Confused because there’s no one reason why I ended up sleeping with each one, nor is there one reason why each relationship ended. How can I learn from my mistakes if I can’t pinpoint what they are?

  I haven’t seen Michelle or Colin since I’ve been home. I called Michelle to congratulate her on her job, and we talked for a second, but then she had to go. She’s already started her new job at Vintage Vogue and has been was swamped. As for Colin, he’s knocked on my door a couple of times and even called, but I didn’t answer. I don’t want to see him. I’m too embarrassed about everything. I shouldn’t have hired him, a neighbor. What was I thinking?

  When my mom got the Lily Pond letter last week (which I can’t believe Jan sent—Where does she get off doing that? I bet Carl put her up to it), she rushed over to his apartment in tears, sobbing, “Cohlin, what are we gonna do about our girl?” Apparently, Patsy advised her not to confront me, saying any undue stress might cause a relapse. Although I can’t stand her, I’m happy for once she stuck her nose in my business. Colin said he was so caught off guard when my mom showed up that he panicked and blamed everything on Yoshi, my make-believe boyfriend, saying he got me into drugs.

  “Couldn’t you have told her it was a mistake?” I asked.

  “I s’pose,” he said. “But once I started tellin’ her what a wanker Yoshi was, I got really into it and told her I beat him up. Instead of complaining you should thank me.”

  “He was imaginary,” I pointed out.

  “That’s not important,” Colin said. “What is, is that I defended your honor, which I will always do.”

  Even though I was touched by Colin saying this, I was also irritated because now I don’t have a make-believe boyfriend and I have to see my mom today at the tasting.

  After climbing out of bed and taking a shower, I make my way to the closet and pull out a black jersey knit wrap dress and black heels to wear. I’m in mourning. While getting dressed, I realize the dress is big on me. Aside from the Cheetos in LA, I didn’t eat much while I was away and must’ve lost weight. In addition to Eva, at least one other good thing came out this trip.

  The Waldorf=Astoria is an enormous hotel located just north of Grand Central Station on Park Avenue. After asking a bellman to point me in the right direction, I make my way through the elegant lobby to the wedding salon, where I find Daisy and Edward already waiting. Daisy, looking fabulous as always in a simple yellow dress, smiles big when she sees me and bigger when she sees Eva. I didn’t want her to be angry about the “Ave Maria” thing, so I dressed Eva up in a pink taffeta doggie bridesmaid dress, doggie shoes that look like Mary Janes, a faux pearl necklace, and a rhinestone tiara to say I’m sorry.1 Even though I can barely see her under the accessories, I can tell she’s glaring at me, angry that I’ve pimped her out like this. When I telepathically tell her that the outfit was necessary, she perks up and showers Daisy with kisses.

  “Heaven help me!” Daisy squeals, as she holds Eva up. “I want one!” Turning to Edward, she bats her eyelashes at him. “Pleeeeeze?”

  Instead of answering her, Edward turns to me, thin-lipped. “Thanks, Delilah, thanks a lot.”

  After telling Daisy a modified story of Eva (I got her in New York not Philly, one week ago not five weeks ago), she curses the make-believe pet store I said I bought her from, and asks me to write down the address so she can yell at the ornery old lady who put her in the basement.

  “I will later,” I say, suddenly hearing a breathy voice from behind me.

  “Delilah . . .”

  Oh no, it’s my mom. Reluctantly I turn around and find her staring at me pathetically. Her hair is perfectly coiffed and colored, her head slightly lowered. Standing next to her is Patsy.

  “Mom!” I exclaim, raising my voice an octave, trying to sound excited to see her. “How are you?”

  “Never mind me,” she says, patting down the wrinkles in my dr
ess. “You. How are you?”

  “I’m—”

  “Come,” she says, not letting me finish, “come to Mama.”

  As my mom embraces me, she hugs me hard like she always does, squeezing me so intensely that I can barely breathe. Although I try to pull away, I can’t, so for the next minute, I find myself gasping for air as she silently rocks me back and forth. When she finally (thankfully) releases her hold on me, she whispers in my ear, “You gotta feel it to heal it, Delilah!” Although I have no idea what this means, the fact that Patsy gave my mom a thumbs-up when she said it makes me think it’s some kind of rehab saying.

  After turning around to say hello to Daisy, my mom jumps back when she sees Eva in her arms. “Oh my!” she says, clearly startled. “Who’s this?”

  “Delilah got a dog!” Daisy cheerfully explains. Holding Eva up, she introduces the two of them. “Mom, say hello to Eva, and Eva, say hello to Grandma.”

  “Grandma?” The look on my mother’s face instantly changes. “I’d prefer it if she’d call me Lola.”

  “Lola?” Daisy asks, confused.

  “Yes, it means grandma in Tagalog, a language they speak in the Philippines.”

  Daisy and I exchange odd glances. “Um . . . that’s great, Mom,” Daisy says, turning back to her. “But we’re not Filipino.”

  “And we’re not a grandma yet either,” my mom snaps, clearly annoyed she’s been called one. “So watch your mouth!” As Saul, the wedding coordinator, enters the room the smile on her face reappears. “Saul!” she booms, turning to him. “It’s so good to see you!”

  “Oh, you too, Ms. Kitty!” he screeches, taking hold of her hands. As the two of them exchange air-kisses, Daisy elbows me.

  “Lola?” she mouths.

  Having no explanation, I simply shrug.

  After greeting everyone else with the same fanfare, Saul freezes when he sees Eva. “Oh no . . .” he says to Daisy, who’s still holding her. “We don’t allow dogs in the kitchen, where the tasting takes place. It’s a health code violation.”

  A health code violation? Oops. I didn’t think of this.

  Although Saul offers to put Eva in his office, I tell him it’s not a good idea (she has a history of chewing the corners off end tables and desks) and instead offer to run her home since we were still waiting for Edward’s mother to arrive.

  “No, no, that’s nonsense,” my mom says, pulling out her cell phone. “Call Michelle and see if she’ll come pick her up.”

  “I would, but she’s working,” I explain. “There’s no way she’ll be able to come. She’s been so busy.”

  “How about Cohlin?” she then asks.

  “I don’t have his number,” I lie.

  “Where did Michelle get a job?” Daisy asks, interrupting us. Turning to her, I begin telling her about Vintage Vogue when, out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother hold her cell phone to her ear. Thinking nothing of it, I continue talking until I hear my mom say, “Cohlin? Is that you?” I whip back around.

  “Mom!” I yell, trying to grab the phone from her. “Give me that!”

  After waving me away, my mom puts a finger in her free ear to drown out my yelling and walks away. As she does, I begin to feel sick to my stomach. I don’t want to see Colin. Damn it!

  While I wait in agony for her return, praying she’ll tell me he’s too busy to come, Edward’s mom, Ruth, arrives. Since she was recuperating from a face-lift at the time of the engagement party, neither my mom nor I have met her. After introducing myself to her, my mom returns.

  “Cohlin’s on his way,” she says with a smile. Crap. She then turns to Ruth. After admiring her flawless, tawny skin, she attempts a joke. “I thought Edward said his mother was coming . . . not his sister!” As my mom smiles, Ruth laughs, and just like that the two of them are buddy-buddy.

  “Since we have to wait for Cohlin,” Saul says, getting everyone’s attention. “Why don’t I take you all on a quick tour of the hotel and show you the Starlight Roof.”

  “Well, matzoh tov to that!” my mom proudly exclaims. Even though she’s butchered the word mazel, Daisy, Edward and Ruth all smile at one another, happy she’s at least trying. As everyone files-in behind Saul, excited for the tour, my mom lingers back for a bit. Once she’s sure everyone’s out of an earshot, she turns to me.

  “Delilah, quick!” she says frantically, while undoing the top three buttons on her blouse. She gestures to her necklace. “Do you think it’s too big?” Looking down, my eyes widen when I see what is quite possibly the largest diamond-crusted gold crucifix I’ve ever seen.

  “Not if you can beatbox,” I joke.

  She swats my arm. “Be serious!”

  “It’s fine, Mother,” I say, rolling my eyes, “just fine.”

  For the next twenty minutes or so, with every silk curtain and allegory mural I pass, I worry about seeing Colin. Even though he doesn’t know the reason behind it, I’m still embarrassed that he knows what I’ve done. Also, a part of me is afraid that what happened with Kyle and e-mail will happen with him and the phone, minus the romance part, of course. After I left Lily Pond, he called me every few hours while I drove to LA to make sure I got there safely. He did the same thing while I drove back to New York too. We’ve talked on the phone a lot, particularly in the last two weeks, and I’m afraid that things will be awkward when we see each other. We know each other but don’t really know each other. I consider him my friend, but he’s not really.

  Thankfully, watching my mom try to impress Ruth takes my mind off things. Every time I feel weak in the knees, she says something that makes me laugh. For example, when Saul explains to us that a large mosaic floor in the lobby is made of 148,000 tile pieces, she exclaims, “Soy vay!” After that, she proceeds to describe our grandpa to Ruth as a man with a lot of shitspah. The only word she gets right is when, after I jokingly ask why she isn’t speaking Tagalog, she quietly tells me to stop being such a schmuck.

  The Starlight Roof is located on the eighteenth floor in a separate more-exclusive part of the hotel made up of suites and apartments called the Waldorf Towers. When we walk inside the exquisite art deco ballroom, we collectively gasp—it’s breathtaking. Cream-colored silk damask curtains cascade down a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook Park Avenue. Austrian crystal chandeliers hang from either end of a gilt-trimmed ceiling, a ceiling that at one time opened to the stars.

  “It doesn’t open anymore,” Saul says, as everyone look up, “but you’d never know it.” When he flips a switch on the wall, thousands of tiny blinking lights turn on, illuminating the ceiling. They twinkle high above our heads, resembling stars. When I look over at Daisy and Edward and see them gazing up at this man-made moonlight, I become melancholy. They look so happy. This is all so perfect.

  After taking the elevator down to the lobby, everyone walks back to the wedding salon. In the distance, I see Colin standing by the door, wearing a thin navy blue T-shirt, a beat-up pair of old Levi’s, and Converse sneakers. “Cohlin!” my mother exclaims when she’s sees him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming!” We all arrive to where he’s standing.

  “Ah, ’twasn’t a problem,” he says, smiling. He then looks at me. I instantly blush.

  Shit! I forgot how cute he was. Hoping he didn’t see, I quickly look away.

  “Mom, it’s Cahlin,” I say, turning to her.

  “Oh, I know. Cohlin’s just my little pet name for him.”

  As my mom winks, I look up and shake my head in embarrassment. Why, God? Just why?

  After quickly saying hello to everyone, Colin looks down at Eva, who’s half in and half out of her bag. “This must be the Hungarian import,” he says, crouching down. When he sees her outfit, a puzzled look comes over his face. “What’s she wearing?”

  “A bridesmaid dress,” I say.

  “And shoes,” Daisy adds.

  “And a necklace,” Edward adds.

  “And a tiara,” Saul adds.

  Colin looks at me path
etically.

  “I got kinda carried away.”

  Saul claps loudly. “Come on everyone! We need to get moving!” As everyone files out of the salon, he turns to me. “Delilah, we’ll be waiting for you by the elevators.” I nod.

  With everyone gone, Colin and I are alone. Afraid I might blush again, I quickly hand Eva over without making eye contact. “Sorry it’s so girly-looking,” I say, apologizing for the pink and green argyle bag. “Do you wanna just take her home and I can pick her up later?”

  Instead of answering, Colin moves his head up, down, and around, trying to make eye contact, and I move my head up, down, and around, trying to avoid it. It’s like a game of keep-away. After a few seconds, I end up losing.

  “That’s better,” he says when our eyes finally meet. He then smiles. And I then blush again.

  Damn it.

  “Actually, I’ve got some things to do,” he continues. “So how ’bout I meet you back here in a couple hours instead?”

  I nod. “Sounds good.” After saying good-bye, I join the rest of the group by the elevators.

  Like the rest of the hotel, the kitchen is enormous, which thrills my mother beyond belief. Seeing ovens large enough to bake racks of meat and fryers large enough to cook crates of vegetables gets her so worked up that she needs a drink to settle down. Lucky for her, the wine flows freely when the tasting begins, and everyone joins her in drinking except Daisy and me. I feel somewhat sick. I must still be nervous.

  For the next two hours, everyone helps Daisy and Edward not only decide the menu but also pick out the china, crystal and linens that will be used on their big day. We all eat like kings and queens as servers bring trays of food—trays filled with lobster, steak, chicken, and foie gras; with mushrooms, potatoes, onions, and asparagus; and with yellow cake, white cake, chocolate cake, and red devil cake. Everything is so delicious that we have a problem deciding what to have. By the time the tasting is over, so many bars have been added to the big day—from martini bars to oyster bars to ceviche bars to coffee bars—that I lose track.