Lenny nods.
“No shit,” Kat says.
“Actually, Tim wants to create a song with an accompanying music video celebrating the completion of the twenty schools, to be released around Christmastime. Proceeds from the sale will go toward building even more schools, and other facilities, like homes and community centers. Tim said he’s been in touch with a few rap singers and other musicians who agreed to take part in the work, but no one has stepped up to run the project.” Lenny scratches his head for a moment and then adds, “It’s the craziest thing, but…Tim wants me to spearhead it. He wants me to write the song and produce the video.”
“Oh, Len…” I say. My eyes fill up with tears and I feel like an idiot. “No more accounting!”
“I know, right? It looks like Build a Better Future is the break I’ve needed to get out of a real job and into a dream one. Saying it aloud like this makes it almost seem true.”
“Like ‘We Are the World’!” Jodi says.
“Like ‘Feed the World’!” Kat adds.
“Ooh!” Jodi says, interrupting our cheering. “Brainstorm!”
“What?” I ask.
“Can’t tell. I want to talk to Len privately and see what he says first. And then I’ll surprise you guys.”
“Shall we rendezvous by the coffee urn in the back of the plane?” Lenny asks, already standing.
“Sounds lovely,” Jodi says, stepping over me and Kat to get to the aisle.
Kat sighs. “It’s nice that at least one of us has got something good lined up.”
“You call the school yet? Talk to Martha?” I ask.
“Nope. Chicken,” she says. “You call Doug yet?”
“Bwack,” I say, trying to sound like the chicken that I am. Then I remember what Doug said to me last night on the phone. I quickly replay the conversation for Kat, to see what she thinks he meant.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she says, shaking her head, “He actually said, ‘Say hi to Kat and Jodi for me’?”
I nod.
“You sure? I mean, it was loud in that place. Maybe you misheard him and he said something like, ‘I hide my cat in jury duty.’”
“What does that even mean?” I ask.
“I have no fucking idea. It sounded better in my head.”
“Blue chips? Peanut mix?” a stewardess asks, pushing her cart up the aisle.
Kat turns to her with urgency. “Do you serve shots? Like, of very strong alcohol?”
“Kat,” I say, “drinking won’t solve our problems.”
“True, that,” she says, taking a few of the mini bottles offered up by the stewardess. “But it’s fun anyway.”
I put my hand on her wrist. “Please don’t.” She looks over to me and drops the bottles onto her tray, where they clink and roll around. “I need your help. Your sober, real help with this one. Doug knows something; I’m not sure what he knows, and I’m not sure how he knows whatever he knows. Plus, Martha’s been calling me and e-mailing me and leaving messages with Doug asking as to my whereabouts. If the woman could text, she’d be doing that, too. I lied to my family, I lied to my employers. I think I might be coming home to a blitzkrieg.”
“Maybe,” Kat says. “But then again, maybe not.”
A few minutes later, Jodi and Lenny return from their conference. Lenny immediately sits and takes out a notebook, flipping to an open page and writing quickly.
He laughs aloud to himself. “I’ve got the best song picked out…”
“Lenny, surprise, remember?” Jodi says. Still standing in the aisle, she asks me to fish her camera out of her bag and hand it to her. “Come on, Len, let’s do this.”
Lenny rolls his eyes and sighs, finishing whatever notes he was jotting down. “This takes some time, Jo, some planning and careful thought. I know it looks effortless, but it’s not. It’s hard work.”
“Whatev, dude,” she says, rolling her eyes right back at him in mock exasperation. I have no idea what they are planning, but if it involves Jodi, Len and a camera, then gyrating hips and a gangsta beat can’t be far behind.
Len nods to himself, content with some thought, before he stands and moves with Jodi toward the back of the plane.
A gloomy New York sky greets us as we make our descent. Jodi gets teary-eyed as we say our good-byes at the baggage carousel. So much bonding has happened in the past day that it’s really hard to see our small group go their separate ways.
Some security guards are consulting with Jodi about the plans for transporting her grandmother to a funeral home in Westchester. I think about Sonia Goldberg’s funeral, planned for Sunday morning, and then remember our original plans for Saturday night. “Jo, you’re not still planning to participate in the temple event tomorrow night, are you?” I ask.
She looks confused, then upset. “Of course I am!”
“I just thought, what with your grandmother and everything, you might have, you know, changed your mind about dancing?”
“Lauren,” Jodi says, stepping closer to me. “Tomorrow night is probably even more important now that my grandmother is gone.”
I’m not sure why that is, but I’m not going to argue. I nod instead. “Right. Well, then, Kat and I will see you there.”
“And Doug?” Jodi asks.
“Depends on how much he hates me right now,” I say. Just thinking about seeing him makes my stomach ache.
I turn to Lenny and try to shake his hand, formal but polite, like people who’ve just met at a technology seminar and now hope to keep in touch.
“Hug me, douche,” he says, enfolding me in a giant embrace.
The fact that this statement brings tears to my eyes shows just how demented I am right now. I know that I can’t go back to having Lenny as my dirty pen pal, and I’m not quite sure that I am ready to just be his friend. So this feels like a real farewell.
“I guess this is it,” I say into his shoulder. “See you at the next high school reunion?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure we’ll be seeing each other sooner than that,” he comments cryptically.
“Shake,” Kat instructs, putting out her hand toward Lenny in a farewell gesture.
“I thought you hated me,” he says.
“Nah, just hate what you stand for. Stood for. Tried to do,” she says awkwardly, which is unlike her. “You know what I mean. Now that you aren’t trying to break apart Lauren’s marriage, you’re growing on me.”
“Aww…you’re making me blush,” Lenny jokes, grabbing Kat into a bear hug so big that she momentarily disappears. She emerges flushed, and tries to hide her embarrassment by grabbing her luggage and heading toward the exit.
I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Kat blush before, not even when she told me about kissing Shay. MC Lenny’s mystical charm.
I give Lenny a final wave and start following Kat, since she’s my ride.
“You guys…” I hear Jodi call. She sounds weird, like something’s not right. Kat stops near the exit and turns. Lenny and I turn, too. “You guys!” she calls again, louder this time, more frantically.
I spot Jodi leaning against a small sundries kiosk, looking like she can’t stand up. I drop my bag and run across the length of the luggage-claim area to where she is. “Jodi,” I ask, propping her up against my arm, “what happened?”
“Can you breathe, can you see? Are you hallucinating?” Kat asks, coming up behind me.
“Should we call the paramedics?” Lenny asks. Turning to me, he says, “Sit her down so she doesn’t pass out and crack her head wide open on this tile.”
I comply.
We all sit on the floor in a small, close circle, looking for signs that Jodi is okay. “Say something,” Kat pleads.
Jodi shakes her head. She moves her hand instead, handing an object to us in the center of the circle.
It’s her iPad. I put out my hand and catch it. We all look down.
EOnline.com is staring back at us, with a huge, full-color photo making the news headlines of the day.
&nbs
p; It’s a picture of us.
“Oy,” Jodi says, finally speaking.
The headline reads “Tim Raises Awareness.” Under that, the picture shows all of us atop the Crypt Ranger float. Tim, Dixie, me, Lenny, Jodi and Kat…all of us.
“What are we aware of?” I ask.
“That’s your question,” Kat says.
“Um, one of?” I clarify. “I mean, obviously, there are other, more pressing issues to deal with here, like the fact that our cover is so blown and we are so dead.”
“But, naturally, you ask whether our efforts were humanitarian in any way,” Lenny says. “Because you’re generous like that.”
“Exactly. Thank you,” I say, giving Kat the finger.
“Oy,” Jodi says. “Oy.”
“Ditto that,” Kat says, “and add a couple Hail Marys.”
Kat and I will lose our jobs. Jodi and I will lose our husbands, our children.
Okay, maybe I’m being dramatic, but I’ve got to believe MasterCard at a time like this: The price of fun is truly priceless.
“I thought I wanted to be famous,” Jodi says, finally moving away from Yiddish expletives.
“And so you are,” I say. “Infamous, at any rate.”
“Oy!”
“It’s a pretty clear shot, actually. And we all look like we’re having a blast,” Kat says. “I really like it!”
“Here.” Jodi shoos away her beloved iPad. “You can have it.” She excuses herself to the bathroom. “I need to try and wash the guilt off my face.”
Lenny intercepts the device and reads the blurb aloud. “Rumors that Tim Cubix walked off the set of his latest picture, Croc of Lies, prove false after all. Cubix’s manager explained to E! that when Tim got word of Miami’s gay pride parade, he rushed to be by the side of his longtime friend—and Ruby Richmond impersonator—Dixie Normous. Dixie is a well-known figure in South Beach, beloved for her long legs, big lips and even bigger commitment to the legalization of same-sex marriage. ‘I’m a humanitarian who happens to be an actor, not the other way around,’ said Cubix, when asked about his choice to leave the production set for a day. ‘The director of the film was in full support of my decision; he’s not a snake like some other people in Hollywood. And this film’s gonna rock!’”
I smile. Tim, your secret is safe with me, I think.
I take another glance at the tabloid. Was that really us, only a few hours ago?
Kat’s right, though. It’s a great shot.
“And what about same-sex marriage?” I ask, looking at Kat.
“I’m all for it!” she says. “As long as I don’t have to marry anyone of any sex anytime soon, it’s cool with me.”
Good answer, I think. Supportive but noncommittal in any personal way. “I knew I heard someone snapping photos this morning,” I say.
“There was tons of press there, actually, come to think of it. I’m sure we’re plastered all over the Internet by now,” Kat says, seemingly bemused by this recent turn of events.
“And how do you think we’re going to explain this to the Hadley School Board?” I ask.
“Tim needed us?” She shrugs, hearing how that sounds. “I dunno. We’ll figure something out.”
“And what if Lee sees this?” I ask, thinking of Jodi’s husband and kids happening across this image on the web. “And…Doug?”
“Jodi needed us?” she says. “Jodi needed Tim?”
None of it sounds convincing.
“Oy vey,” I say, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with Jodi.
Chapter 27
It is six o’clock at night. I stand outside the front door to my house, keys in hand, almost ready to come face-to-face with my husband. The truth is that even though I know Doug knows that I was with Jodi and Kat, I still plan on lying to him a little bit about the events of the past two days.
My logic is plain and simple. I took leave of my senses, and now I’m back. I have no interest in burdening Doug with details of my kiss with MC Lenny Katzenberg. That’s in the past. I tried it, I didn’t like it, I’m done with cheating. I’d like to spare Doug the humiliation and rage over one tiny indiscretion. And I’d like to spare myself the pain of having disappointed him, which I know I have.
I suppose I’m a coward. I’d like to avoid a big ugly scene where we yell and scream and cry. I’d like to think that, because I made a mistake and learned from it, I’m bringing my better self back to the marriage, and that’s all Doug needs to know. I’d like to think that we can move forward together, without me having to acknowledge disloyalty from the recent past.
Right now, as I hear his footsteps moving solidly across the hard wood floors on my living room and approaching the front door, I like to think that that we can work this thing out nicely by just brushing it all under the carpet.
Doug opens the door, his face steady and unreadable. “Lauren,” he says. “There you are.” If he’s surprised to see me a day earlier than expected, he doesn’t show it. He pushes the door open further to reveal a police officer standing to his right.
Clearly, Doug has other plans for me.
I am seated on the living room couch, feeling much calmer now that I know the children are fine—at the park with Laney as we speak—and that, apparently, Doug doesn’t want to have me arrested. Yet. But that’s as much as I know.
I look to Doug for clarification, and he shushes me with his eyes. It’s the same look he gives me when I’d like to rip into my mother-in-law during some perfectly awful Hallmark holiday, so I know it well. In those situations, Doug usually steps in, and here he does the same.
I eye the police officer, taking in his sandy buzz cut and bright blue eyes. He looks very young, like he’s fresh out of the academy.
Doug and the officer are both standing, and I instantly wish I was, too, so that they wouldn’t have this advantage of height over me. Doug begins speaking and comes over to sit near me, which is a nice touch, a showing of solidarity. “When you didn’t show up for work today, Lauren, Martha Carrington over at the middle school called me at work again.”
“Buh—” I begin. Doug holds up a finger to silence me. It works. Especially since I wasn’t sure what I was going to say after the “but.”
“But,” he says, looking from me to the officer and back again, “as I told her many times, you have been sequestered for the week by the Alden County Courthouse and were expected to be released from your case tomorrow.” His mouth is saying the words but his eyes are telling me that he knows this to be complete bullshit. There are some perks to a twelve-year marriage, and speaking volumes without actually talking is one of them.
“Yeah, buh—” I try again. The finger goes up, my mouth shuts.
The officer steps in now, to continue telling the story. “But Mrs. Carrington, working off her own information, seemed to believe that you had been released from jury duty several days ago, and that, since that time, there may have been some foul play involved in your more recent disappearance.”
Martha gave me up to the feds!
I am quite certain now that I will never ever get the position of English chair.
Doug is looking down at his hands as the officer speaks, so I can no longer read his expression.
“Further, this Mrs. Carrington felt that your husband knew of your whereabouts but was covering up the real story with falsehoods.”
Oh, and Lauren? Say hi to Jodi and Kat for me.
How can I make my face look completely startled by this revelation? I make my eyes wide and fake a gasp, which seems a bit too false, even to my own ears.
The policeman takes my outburst for an authentic bit of emotion. “I know, I know,” he says. “It seemed farfetched to me, too.”
I smile, and shrug it off as if to say, What a crazy world we live in, right? Feeling better, I stand and shake his hand before leading him out of the house. “Well, thanks so much for coming, officer…” I say.
“But then…” he says. My right hand meets his extended left hand, and I real
ize there’s a folded piece of paper in it. He shakes it to let me know I should take it.
I open the tri-folded white page to find an exact copy of my jury duty release form, signed and dated on Tuesday. The officer clears his throat. “I decided to just call the courthouse and ask about your role as a juror. Turns out, Mrs. Carrington was correct; you were released on Tuesday. And it only took me about five minutes to clear that piece up!”
Well, doesn’t he seem awfully proud of himself for getting off his ass and making a phone call.
“Oh yeah, that,” I say, completely busted.
I need to sit. I hold my hands up to my eyes and try and push back the tears that are forming. I don’t want to cry because of Martha. I must not let this officer see me break down. I remind myself that these are tears of anger, not sadness, and that helps me get a grip.
I’m angry for getting caught like this, and I feel like a complete fool for thinking I could just get away with such a stupid scheme in the first place. But mostly, I wish I didn’t feel like I had to lie to Doug throughout this whole adventure, first to get down to Miami and now again upon returning.
I wish I could have seen some other way to get what I wanted without sneaking behind Doug’s back. Because that’s really what was corrupt about this unorthodox vacation choice of mine, the lying to Doug part. Not the cutting-school part; I see that now.
No. My inability to share my plans—and worse, my feelings—with my spouse is the real crime in my leave of absence.
I worry that my marriage will just crumble before my eyes, a house of cards collapsing, and yet I can’t see any way to hold it all together.
Doug and the officer continue talking as I try to collect myself. Doug leads the policeman into the kitchen and I wonder, is he offering him coffee now? But then I hear their footsteps on the stairs and wonder if he’s giving a house tour.
I mean, we’ll probably get divorced and have to sell the house, but it seems a bit premature to show it off for sale at this very moment, doesn’t it? What kind of a cold husband offers up the family home before the divorce papers have even been drawn up, I ask you?
Lauren Takes Leave Page 27