Too Little, Too Late

by Marta Tandori

  For the next nineteen years, he lived in a perpetual quagmire of self-loathing and the need to be with her. Just when he resolved himself to the fact that he would never see Maria again, Leo learned of her release. He had been given a second chance! This time, not even his mother would keep him from being with Maria.

  CHAPTER 35

  “What do you think of this color?” Ashley asked, throwing a tube of Cotton Candy Pinkette at Karen. “Do you think it’ll go with my nose?”

  Karen gave her a wry look. “Don’t you mean your dress?”

  “Nope,” Ashley told her, looking at her face in profile.

  “Yeah, I guess it’ll go okay with your nose.” Karen began rooting through Ashley’s closet. Pulling out a tiger print bustier dress, she held it in front of her. “Do you mind if I wear this?”

  “Wear whatever you want.” her friend replied easily. “I’m about due for a new wardrobe anyway.”

  “Thanks.”

  Although Ashley drove her nuts at times, there were definitely perks to being her friend. Not that her parents skimped on her but Karen’s mother would never consider flying to Paris for the spring and fall collections like Ashley’s mother did. Ashley got a new wardrobe twice a year and luckily, her friend was the generous type who thought nothing about giving away a lot of her stuff. Karen pulled the dress over her head. Somehow, the dress made her boobs look bigger, which she thought made her look older, definitely a plus.

  “I am absolutely stoked about tonight,” Ashley told her. “I just hope we don’t bump into your wicked stepmother.”

  “She’s the one who gave me the tickets,” Karen pointed out, “and she knows we have fake ID.”

  “Great!” Ashley couldn’t help asking, “When are you going to tell me what the surprise is?”

  “Later. Right now, I’m more worried about my mom calling here tonight.” Karen nervously tightened the accompanying gold belt around her small waist. “The last thing I need is for her to check up on me. I wouldn’t put it past her, especially after the fight we had earlier.”

  “Relax,” Ashley told her. “Even if she does call, Tiana knows exactly what to say. She’s worked for us since I was a kid and is totally loyal to me.”

  “Good.”

  “So what did you guys fight about this time?”

  “The same old shit.” Karen turned to her. “How do I look?”

  “Fucking hot.” Her friend rooted through her jewelry box before handing Karen a pair of dangly earrings. “Here. Wear these. They go great with the dress.”

  “Thanks.” She took the earrings from Ashley, before putting them in her ears and checking out the effect. They did look amazing with the dress. “Do you think I can pass for legal age?”

  “You got my vote.”

  Opening her purse, Karen checked to make sure she had her fake I.D. “All set?”

  Ashley nodded and both girls went downstairs just as the limo pulled up to the front door.

  Ashley grinned at her friend. “Is this the surprise?”

  “Nope.”

  When Spic got out of the limo, Ashley looked at Karen in disgust. “Who invited her?”

  “Surprise!”

  “She and the limo are a package deal?”

  “Yup.”

  Ashley realized she had been trumped and gave in gracefully. “So, what are we waiting for?” Ashley exclaimed. “Let’s go!”

  ***

  Liz’s dress was an ivory cocktail number from the fifties, bought in a vintage clothing store on Fairfax. She had piled her long hair on top of her head. On her feet, she wore high-heeled sandals which elongated her shapely legs, making her seem taller. For the first time in a long time, she was actually happy to be celebrating her birthday. Hearing the knock on her door, she gave her reflection one last nervous glance before going to answer it.

  “Wow!” Otis stared at her, slack-jawed. “Who are you?”

  “Shut up.” She giggled, feeling a little embarrassed at the way he was eyeballing her. Otis looked pretty good himself. He was wearing dark pants and a jacket with a black shirt. Come to think of it, he looked pretty damned sexy.

  “Ready to go?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  “Let’s do it,” she replied lightly.

  Otis was unusually quiet on the way down the elevator and when the doors opened, Liz immediately understood why. She stopped in her tracks and looked at him in surprise. “Is that ours?” Through the glass doors of her building, she could see the waiting limo at the curb.

  “Only until midnight,” he quipped, “and then our fair coach turns into a pumpkin.”

  “I think I’m going to cry.”

  “No way you’re going to cry and smudge all of that stuff on your face,” he told her, pulling her firmly through the lobby.

  As they opened the door of Liz’s building, the driver got out and formally opened the back door for them. Waiting inside were Kim, Harry, Mack and some of her other friends from Dream Factory. They were holding a cake and as soon as they saw her, they began singing, “Happy Birthday.”

  Liz couldn’t help herself. This time, she did cry.

  ***

  “How come we’re not moving?” Spic asked, lighting up.

  “Would you put that thing out,” Karen told her, glancing nervously at their driver through the privacy glass that separated them.

  “Well, excuse me for needing a little something to help me cope with tonight’s trauma,” Spic shot back.

  “What trauma?” Ashley stared at them in confusion.

  “Spic’s in lust with Jericho,” Karen explained to Ashley, “and after tonight, he’s heading to Vegas and abandoning her.”

  “You are such a bitch,” Spic told her, looking down in the dumps.

  “There are three or four limos ahead of us,” Ashley remarked.

  “So much for originality,” Karen told them. “Everybody came with a limo.”

  “Oh my God!” Spic cried out suddenly. “Did you guys see who just got out of the first limo?”

  “Who?” Karen asked impatiently.

  “Lady Gaga!”

  “Are you sure?” Ashley asked, craning her neck to get a better look.

  “Positive! And look over there.” Spic pointed at someone being interviewed under the Beverly Highlander canopy. “Tell me that’s not Madonna!”

  “Look at all the photographers,” Karen moaned.

  “What did you expect?” Ashley gave her friend a look of annoyance. “Here we are at the hottest ticket in town and you didn’t think there’d be any photographers?”

  “I’m worried about getting my picture taken, smart ass!” Karen fumbled for the car door. “What if I’m on TV and my mom sees me? I’m supposed to be grounded, remember?”

  “Are you insane?” Ashley grabbed her arm, just as the limo moved forward slowly. “Anybody else would kill to be where we are right now and you want to sneak in the back door?”

  Spic told Karen. “I’m with Ashley on this one.”

  “I want everyone watching when I get out of this car,” Ashley continued imperiously, “and I want them turning green with envy.”

  Spic took a drag on her joint. “WASP Princess is right again. After tonight, you’ll be getting calls from Lindsay, Paris and the Olsen twins wanting to be your newest B.F.F.”

  “Not the Olsen twins,” Ashley told her. “They’re kind of unto themselves, if you know what I mean.”

  Spic tried to focus. “Sure. Whatever.”

  “Look,” Ashley told Karen firmly, “you might as well enjoy your five seconds of fame while it lasts.”

  Karen looked at them doubtfully. “You guys really think so?”

  “We know so,” Spic told her confidently as their limo pulled up to the hotel entrance.

  Ashley fluffed her hair and stuck out her chest. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

  ***

  He was the reigning king about to abdicate his throne for the greener pastures of Vegas, but until that mo
ment actually came, Jericho D continued to spin his magic while his devoted minions writhed to the beats on Sins’ tiny dance floor. Those who had been lucky enough to get their hands on a coveted ticket had come to pay homage to their king. Nothing mattered but the music and having a good time as Jericho put Michael Jackson’s “Don’t Stop ’Til You Get Enough” on the turntable amid boisterous clapping and cheering. It was a Jericho staple just like Missy Elliott. Although he played predominantly hi-hop, rock, funk, soul and reggae, Jericho tried to put a bit of a spin on things to keep everything from getting stale which is why he was one of the few turntable maestros who could pack a club on his name alone.

  The loud music was giving Eric a headache as he sat alone at one of the tiny tables close to the dance floor, nursing his drink. He hadn’t seen Brooke since she’d left early this afternoon. She was busy giving interviews, shaking hands and generally making sure that everything ran smoothly. He tiredly rubbed his eyes before taking another swallow of his drink. It burned all the way down, causing his chest to tighten uncomfortably. He wasn’t even sure he liked the bourbon but needed to do something to occupy his time until he could talk to Brooke. A couple of good-looking women had tried coming on to him earlier but he wasn’t in the mood for flirtatious come-ons.

  MTV was filming everything and although photographers weren’t allowed in, the minute the door opened to let someone in or out, it seemed like a thousand flashbulbs would go off all at once. Earlier, Eric had been asked to move to another table so that his prime location could show some partying Generation Xer’s having a great time when the cameras zoomed in on them. Eric had promised the guy a fat lip if he didn’t back off, which seemed to do the trick, because he was left alone after that. He kept his eyes focused on the entrance where he’d be able to see his wife the minute she walked in.

  Lately, he’d been plagued by doubts about getting married again and having a baby. He’d tried twice before Brooke and he’d made a mess of both marriages. Brooke was a sweet girl who deserved better than him. No matter how many times he’d thought about it, it was time to get his shit together, get a quick divorce and put his life back in order. The baby would have his name and he would support both of them, no question there. Maybe once all the dust had settled, he’d even give celibacy a shot.

  ***

  Karen was busy washing her hands and didn’t notice Liz come out of one of the restroom stalls until she reached for a paper towel to dry her hands. By that time, Liz had already noticed her and the two of them awkwardly stood staring at each other.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you,” Karen ventured guardedly. “You look different.”

  “It’s the hair,” Liz offered in embarrassment. “I don’t normally wear it up.”

  “It looks good like that.”

  “Thanks.” Another silence.

  “Do you go clubbing a lot?” Karen asked.

  “Me?” asked Liz. “Oh God, no.” She gave Karen a guarded look. “What about you?”

  “Yeah, I like to go,” Karen told her.

  “Fake I.D.?” Liz ventured.

  “Yeah.” Karen quickly changed the subject. “So are you here with friends?”

  “Friends from my old job brought me here for my birthday,” Liz explained.

  “I hear you’re going to be working for my grandmother soon.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good luck with that. Anyway, I’d better get back to my friends,” Karen told her, anxious to get out of there.

  Liz glanced around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “Your grandmother showed me the necklace.”

  Karen immediately sat down on one of the upholstered benches near the make-up tables, her awkwardness forgotten. “And?”

  “It was my mother’s.”

  “So how come your mother was going to give it to my grandmother?”

  Liz sat down beside Karen. “I don’t know.”

  Before Karen could say anything more, the restroom door was thrown open and a breathless Ashley stuck her head inside. “Come on! You’re missing all the fun!”

  Karen stood up and gave Liz a hesitant smile. “See you around.”

  “Sure.” Liz stood up and went over to the wall of mirrors, pretending to check her hair.

  “Oh, and Liz?” Karen had opened the washroom door and was about to leave.

  “Yes?”

  “Happy birthday.”

  Karen left before Liz had a chance to respond.

  ***

  As Eric stared morosely at the dance floor, he saw Brooke making her way through the dancers. Right behind her, he thought he saw someone he recognized but then the bobbing head of a dancer blocked his view. The tightness he’d felt in his chest all afternoon was becoming uncomfortable. He got up to tell Brooke he was going home. He ducked around the bodies gyrating in his path, wincing in pain as a dancer’s high heel trod on his toes. Eric felt his chest constrict and instinctively grabbed onto the owner of the heel to keep himself from falling.

  “Hey, back off, jerk!” the girl yelled, as she turned on him. Surprise caught her off guard. “Dad!”

  Eric never heard her, or the gunshot, as he slumped unconscious to the dance floor.

  ***

  Brooke thought she heard a loud “pop”, like the kind made by a firecracker. She stopped in mid-stride when someone’s blood-curdling scream reverberated over the music and whirled around in time to see what looked like a man’s body fall to the floor.

  “Someone get the lights!” she yelled over the music as she rushed to where she had seen the body fall.

  Before Brooke was able to reach it, there was another “pop” and suddenly, pandemonium broke out over the dance floor as everyone scrambled in every direction. Brooke was violently knocked to the ground. She heard several more screams just before the music stopped and the harsh lights came on. From her vantage point on the floor, she now saw two people down.

  “They’re still breathing!” a girl yelled out. Brooke was galvanized into action, rushing towards the two casualties on the floor.

  Someone had separated them so that both were lying on their backs, facing Brooke. Falling to her knees, she stared at the unconscious figures of Eric and his daughter before her eyes were riveted to the growing pool of blood seeping out from underneath Karen’s body.

  CHAPTER 36

  Eve shifted the huge overnight bag from her right shoulder to her left as she hurried down the hospital corridor. Today had been the first day she had actually felt confident enough to leave the hospital for a few hours since the shootings three days ago in order to have a quick shower, get a change of clothing and to pay some overdue bills. The past few days had been a nightmare she didn’t wish upon anyone and Eve was grateful that she had had her mother and Paul to lean on.

  Pushing open the door of Karen’s hospital room, Eve stopped and stared in surprise. Eric was sitting in a wheelchair beside Karen’s bed. Father and daughter were laughing, bent over one of the many fashion magazines that littered her daughter’s bed.

  “Don’t you two look cozy,” she commented before looking at her ex-husband closely. “Should you be out of bed?”

  “It was only a mild heart attack,” he told her brightly. “The doctors said I should be as good as new in a couple of weeks.”

  It seemed almost inconceivable to Eve that Eric would suffer a heart attack at the same time, and in the same place, where Karen had been shot. Eve threw her overnight bag on the cot beside her daughter’s bed before going over to kiss Karen’s pale cheek. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Okay, I guess,” Karen told her, “except for my stupid shoulder. Will I really have to have physiotherapy, Mom?”

  “If that’s what the doctors say, then yes.”

  “That’s because the bullet lodged in the muscle, close to the bone,” Eric told her patiently. He gave Eve a measured look. “A few more inches over and it could’ve been so much worse.”

  Eve nodded, momentarily overcome by a m
agnitude of emotion as she realized for the hundredth time how close they had come to losing their daughter. Karen had sustained a substantive blood loss and the surgeons had worked on her for over three hours to remove the bullet and repair some of the damage to her shoulder as well as the surrounding tissue and musculature. She would need plastic surgery later but right now, her doctors were more concerned with Karen regaining the full range of motion in her shoulder.

  “Tell Mom the rest of your news, Dad!” Karen urged, basking in the knowledge that she had both her parents’ undivided attention.

  “The doctors said I can probably go home in a few days,” Eric told Eve.

  “That’s great,” she replied, genuinely happy that he was going to be okay.

  “Except that I’m supposed to take it easy for the next few weeks—”

  “—so Dad’s decided to move in with us for a while,” Karen finished happily. “He’s also arranged it with the doctors so I can get the physio at home instead of having it here in the hospital.”

  Eve looked at Eric in surprise but he avoided her gaze, wheeling his chair over to the window instead. Not wanting to upset Karen, Eve took hold of Eric’s wheelchair.

  “Where are you guys going?” asked Karen, watching them closely.

  “I’m just taking your dad for a spin in his wheelchair,” she told Karen.

  “Shit, I just knew it!” Karen’s eyes filled with tears. “You two can’t go five minutes without arguing!”

  “We’re not arguing, are we, Eve?”

  “No, we’re not,” she replied through gritted teeth. “And we’ll be right back.” With that, she wheeled Eric out of the room over to an empty sitting area just down the hall from Karen’s room. The television was on and a local news station was interviewing Clint Staebler, the owner of the Beverly Highlander, who announced that the police were still looking for the shooter. Taking a deep breath, she faced her ex-husband. “You can’t make a decision like that without discussing it with me first.” Eve tried to keep her voice calm.