A Little Help from Above (18 page)

“But it was so unfair,” Shelby cried. “You never let us mourn. You swept our whole life with Mommy under the rug like she never existed. Every time I mentioned her, you’d pat my head and tell me not to be sad. You’d say, ‘Let’s be happy with our new mom and our new baby brother.’ But I needed to keep my mother’s memory alive. How she walked and talked, how she’d roll her eyes when you made a corny joke…”

“You’re one hundred percent right.” He shrugged. “But at the time, it was too hard for me to watch you suffer. Every time you had a bad spell, it would just remind me of how much pain I was in. The
only way I could get out of bed in the morning was to think about our new life.”

“I understand,” Shelby cried. “But how could you have kept the truth from us? How could you have let us grow up never telling us Eric was your son?”

“Believe me, I wanted to tell you. I just couldn’t seem to find the right words. Then the years went by, and everything was going along, and I said to myself, why mess things up now? Maybe it’s not so bad to keep this under wraps. Then nobody gets hurt.”

“Yes, but we had a right to know!” Shelby folded her arms. “I would never keep something as important as that from my children.”

“Shelby, believe me. Nothing would make me happier than for you to one day know the joy of having children. And to have the chance to raise them the best you can. But eventually you’d find out, no matter hard you try, you can’t always do right by them.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” She sighed. “I don’t think kids are in the cards for me.”

“Never say never.” He patted her hand. “Life is full of surprises.”

“Maybe.” Shelby nodded.

“You used to want kids you know.” He smiled. “Lots of them. Seven I think. One for every day of the week.”

“Oh my God. Not you, too.” Shelby’s eyes grew big. “The other day I ran into this girl I went to school with who remembered me saying the same thing, and then I found my old diary and it was in there, too. But it’s so weird. I have no recollection of ever thinking anything like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Daddy’s eyes twinkled. “You had all kinds of great ideas. First you were going to save the world by giving away all my money. Then you were going to take a train to Alabama to beat up the people who didn’t let the colored children ride the bus…”

“That I remember.” She smiled, praying he didn’t also remember that she wanted to be called Super Shelby. “But seven kids? What would I do with seven kids?”

“That’s what Matty wanted to know.” He laughed. “I’ll never forget the look on his face when you told him the grand plan. You were just sitting there at the kitchen table eating Oreos and milk. You must have been eight or nine at the time. And you said, ‘Matty, when we’re in college you’re going to ask me to marry you, then
we’ll live here, and we’ll have seven children, and Granny Bea Good will be so happy because she was the youngest of seven, and then she could say there was one for every day of the week, just like her father said to her.’ And he’s looking at you, like okay, Shelby. Anything you say, Shelby. Your mother and I had quite a laugh over that one…”

“Glad I kept you all entertained.” She blushed, wondering what other intimate details of her life her father remembered. But at least the mystery was solved. And now that she thought about it, the details were suddenly coming into focus. Matty splitting open his Oreos and dunking them in milk. Matty hanging on her every word. Matty’s bright green eyes when he looked at her.

“You know, Shelby. We knew you knew.” Her father interrupted her thoughts.

“Then why you didn’t come right out and tell me?”

“Roz wanted to. It was me…I was afraid…. You were already so hostile to her…”

Shelby took a deep breath, knowing she might be upsetting the whole nice apple cart. “I was hostile to her because you kept insisting she was my mother, but my mother was gone. In fact, I still hate it when you call her Mommy. She’s my aunt Roz.”

Her father closed his eyes. “Give it a rest, Shelby. I know the facts inside and out, but she’s been like a mother to you for almost thirty years. Do you mean to tell me with all she did for you, with everything she’s been through, you can’t give her a goddamn break?”

Give her a break? Shelby wondered. What would it be like to live without anger? Would she lose her powers, like Samson when his hair was shorn? Or would she suddenly feel empowered? The only thing she knew for certain was she was tired of this embittered journey. Maybe the truth could set you free.

“I suppose after what she’s put up with she deserves better.” Shelby hesitated. “But please don’t expect me to call her Mom. That I simply can’t do.”

Her father shrugged. “The funny thing is, she always said she didn’t care what you called her, as long you called her. All she ever wanted was for you to accept her. To understand she had something to offer you. A loving home. A shoulder to cry on…”

Just as Shelby nodded she understood, a heavyset nurse breezed in to do her scheduled chores. “How you doin’, Mr. L? I see they’ve
scheduled you for surgery tomorrow…Oh, hi,” she acknowledged Shelby. “Well now, you must be the other daughter.”

“Yes. I’m Shelby.”

“Pleased to meet you, Shelby,” she huffed and puffed. “Your daddy’s a special man, and we’re takin’ excellent care of him. Now let me see who you look like.” She studied Shelby’s face, then looked over to Mr. Lazarus. “For sure you ain’t lookin’ like him. Good thing, too.” She chucked Shelby’s shoulder. “Seems to me you resemble your mama. Especially around the eyes. Course that’s about all I can see a her right now.”

Larry Lazarus held his breath. Would Shelby carry on, as she always did, about the biological implausibility of her and Aunt Roz resembling one another?

“Thank you.” Shelby smiled. “Everyone says that.”

Larry beamed, then blew her a kiss.

This is the great thing about eternity. You get to be around long enough to see everything!

Never underestimate the ability of hired help to make life blissful. Within days of Shelby’s reconciliation with her father, the formerly hostile Maria was not only pleasant to Shelby, she was completely at her service. Suddenly she was available to do Shelby’s laundry, take her phone messages, and as a licensed driver herself, take over the Waldbaum’s runs. At least she would remember to bring the coupons.

But when Maria also learned Shelby had apologized to Aunt Roz, as well as agreed to see a gynecologist on Lauren’s behalf, she unrolled the rest of the red carpet. She stocked the refrigerator with Shelby’s favorite-flavored yogurt, placed fresh flowers by her bed, and miraculously managed to pronounce her name correctly. No more Miss Shelly. It was Shelby Dear.

Shelby thanked Maria for her attentiveness, then was struck by an odd thought. Had anyone paid her since the accident? She’d never seen Lauren write out a check, or even mention an arrangement. Sure enough when Shelby inquired, Maria shrugged and said she was certain Mrs. L would settle up with her as soon as she was well enough. “In the meanwhile the good Lord will provide for me.”

“And I’m sure Visa will be happy to wait,” Shelby replied. Then she promptly asked her father for his ATM card and pin number. Upon handing the devoted woman a month’s pay, plus reimbursements for groceries, train fare, and what Shelby wryly called “combat pay,” a teary-eyed Maria clutched the wad of cash to her chest and thanked Shelby for her kindness and generosity.

“I don’t care what anybody says about you, Shelby Dear. You’ve got a big heart.”

It was a historic moment in Shelby’s life, as it had been ages since the words Shelby and big heart had been uttered in the same sentence. But, sadly, the lovefest was about to end. In spite of her great strides on the humanitarian front, she had made an executive decision. It was time to return to Chicago, where she was free to pursue her single, selfish existence. Not that life was nirvana there, either. It was just safer than living under the constant threat of being needed.

So although she felt relieved to be on speaking terms with her father and Aunt Roz, she was not interested in suddenly becoming the long-lost, dutiful daughter who sacrificed herself for their lengthy rehabilitation. Nor did she see herself playing the role of devoted sister, procreating from her loins, just for the sake of immortalizing the Lazarus family genes.

But there was something more. Being back on Majestic Drive was harder than she imagined, with each passing day turning her youthful, bittersweet memories into an obsession. She simply could not stop wondering what her life would have been like had it gone according to plan. If Dr. Weiner had done his job and her mother was alive to nurture her. If she and Matty remained in New York and in love. It would just be easier if images of her past weren’t constantly haunting her.

And, too, it would only be a matter of time before the novelty of family togetherness wore thin. Which would presumably happen upon her declaration she would not, could not, play Surrogate Barbie.

There were numerous reasons, of course, but the most compelling argument, the one she need not apologize for, had to do with the stability of Lauren and Avi’s relationship. With its tenuous, flimsy backbone, it was hardly the altar on which to build a family. Shelby simply couldn’t bring a life into this world that was dependent on those two cornflakes for sustenance.

Lauren, naturally, insisted that Shelby was dead wrong about her and Avi. That she simply didn’t understand what made them tick. To which Shelby replied, “Fine. I’m wrong. Come to think of it, you two remind me of Tracy and Hepburn. What I don’t get is how you expect me to go through with this surrogacy business after bringing me to see Dr. Dickhead.”

“I’m sorry, Shel.” Lauren ran after her in the office parking lot.
“How did I know Dr. Kessler would be at the hospital doing an emergency C-section, and you’d have to see his partner?”

“One little call, that’s how!” Shelby cried out. “Good morning. I’m bringing over my very paranoid, terrified sister for her first pelvic exam in twenty years, and I just wanted to make sure she’ll be seeing Dr. Kessler, and not his arrogant, son of a bitch associate who has about as much bedside manner as a rottweiler in heat.”

“Fine. I should have called. But it’s not my fault you didn’t come here with an open mind.”

“Damn right! It was bad enough I had to come here with open legs,” Shelby yelled. “Why didn’t you warn me I was going to have to slide my ass down a hard table while Dr. I-Hate-Women shoved a duckmouth and a giant Q-tip inside me?”

“How did you think they did a pelvic exam, Shel? With a psychic and a wand?”

“Whatever. I still can’t believe you go to a male gynecologist. Would you use an auto mechanic who never drove a car?” Shelby slammed the car door to make her point.

She had so come with an open mind, thanks to a leftover Valium from Lauren’s designer medicine collection. And it wasn’t as if she was so naive she didn’t expect the doctor to go where no doctor had gone before. But certain bodily explorations aside, she never imagined the whole experience would be so primitive.

Even the questionnaire she filled out prior to getting that lovely paper gown was downright insulting. Was she sexually active? Lord knows she gave it her best shot, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to titillate the staff with Candace Bushnell-like details.

“I’m sorry this wasn’t what you expected, but I still can’t believe you.” Lauren started the car. “I haven’t heard that much swearing since I saw Eddie Murphy live at Westbury Music Fair.”

“What did you think? That I’d smile for the nice man while he sexually abused me?”

“He did not abuse you. I was there the whole time. If anybody was abused, it was him.”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s have a sympathy party for poor Dr. Rubber Gloves. He gets to spend his whole day fondling women’s breasts and staring at their asses.”

“You’re crazy! He’s a medical doctor, not a porn star!”

“Bullshit,” Shelby sulked. “Once men take off their costumes, they’re all alike.”

“That’s not true, Shel. Dr. Kessler is a sweetheart. He would have made you feel completely comfortable before he examined you.”

Shelby shook her head. “You just don’t understand.”

“Yes, I do. You think the whole thing is embarrassing and degrading.”

“It’s nothing like that!” Shelby snapped. “Nothing whatsoever!”

“Then what is it?” Lauren flinched. “Why did you get so worked up in there?”

Shelby rolled down the window and leaned back.

“Are you afraid they’re going to hurt you?” Lauren persisted. “I have this friend, Denise, who gets these panic attacks whenever she goes to the doctor, and…”

“Stop!” Shelby yelled. “Stop right now. You want to know the problem?” She took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you the problem. I’m afraid some asshole doctor will discover something terribly wrong with me, and I’ll end up spending what little time I have left in tremendous pain, while he consults with someone on the golf course and drives away in his Range Rover. I’m afraid I’ll never win a Pulitzer prize, or see Matty again, all because I’ll be dead at thirty-eight. Just like Mommy!”

“Oh my God,” Lauren gasped. “I had no idea you were even thinking anything like that. You never said a word. But of course it makes sense that that’s why you’re so paranoid. You poor thing.”

Shelby blew into a tissue and begged Lauren to dispense with the Psych 101 chatter. The only thing she hated worse than attracting sympathy was feeling abject humiliation for having opened her emotional crypt, with its raw, dark center. For now that it was revealed, surely Lauren would seize the moment and pry even further under the pretense of helping Shelby find a cure for what ailed her.

Except that Shelby didn’t want to be cured. She was happy with her fears. They were comfortable and familiar to her, and she was the consummate expert on avoiding them completely. The same way she’d learned how to preserve her safety by bypassing questionable neighborhoods when covering a story.

On the other hand, this breakdown in the car was a defining moment, for it was then Shelby knew her only choice was to leave. She
thanked Lauren for not dwelling on her little outburst and insisted she’d be fine after she showered and rested. But no sooner did Lauren drop her home than Shelby packed, called United, then paged Avi.

“You’re picking me up at one o’clock and taking me to La Guardia. And if you so much as breathe a word of this to Lauren, I swear I’ll tell her you’ve been hitting on me since the minute we met. And then you can damn well kiss my daddy’s money good-bye. Got it?”

Avi got it. At exactly one o’clock, he honked his horn, and Shelby was on her way, confident Lauren could not intervene. After she arrived in Chicago she would call and explain herself. And, naturally, she would promise to return on a regular basis. She just needed her permanent address to have a different zip code than her family’s. They would simply have to understand, as she was not going to give them a choice.

Some things never change. Shelby was always good at running away. In fact, as a child, escape and denial were pretty much her two best friends. The minute things didn’t go her way she’d head for Matty’s house, or ride her bike around until her legs gave out. “Give her time,” I’d tell Larry, whose first reaction was to follow her in the car. “She’ll be back.” Sure enough, like the swallows of Capistrano, she always returned home in time for dinner.

I do hope Lauren remembers that about her sister. Because she’s certainly not going to be happy when she discovers Shelby has flown the coop. First-class, no less.

Avi promised Shelby that he would give her a head start, but he never specified how much of one. Immediately after dropping Shelby at the United terminal, he phoned Lauren.

“What do you mean she’s on her way home?” Lauren screamed into her cell phone.

“What ken we do? She changed her mind about helping us.”

“Well, for starters, we didn’t have to provide the getaway car!”

I hate when Lauren drives like a speed demon. It puts a lot of pressure on me to keep her out of harm’s way, and lately her mind has been so preoccupied, it’s practically become a full-time job. Right now she’s on the
Grand Central Parkway, but the way she’s flying by, you’d think she was in the cockpit of a small plane.

It’s because she’s on a mission. As soon as she realized that her ticket to motherhood was ticketed for a flight home to Chicago, she knew she had to think of a way to stop her. Once Shelby set foot on that plane, she’d be focused on getting a new job, a new boyfriend, a new life. All hope of her saying yes to being a surrogate would disappear into the clouds. Not that Shelby had budged on the issue since the last three times Lauren brought it up.

Unfortunately, Shelby isn’t the only one Lauren has to convince to play the surrogate sweepstakes. Avi, too, is less enthusiastic these days now that he’s discovered the process of fathering a baby with a woman other than his wife has nothing to do with having sex. It’s all lab and no love.

But first things first. Lauren needs to find Shelby, then find the right words to get her to at least think about bearing her a child. Oh look. There’s Shelby getting coffee. And there’s Lauren, driving round and round, looking for a parking spot. What if I try to find her a spot, and you try to delay Shelby’s flight? Oh, right. This is my story. I’m on my own here.

Avi had guessed Shelby was on United’s flight # 27 based on the time she arrived at the airport, but Lauren couldn’t be bothered with details. She’d find her sister if she had to scour every inch of the terminal. Or not. Almost immediately she found Shelby sitting quietly in the gate area, sipping coffee, and reading what looked like a diary.

Lauren knew she would have to approach gingerly. So before walking the plank, she checked the flight’s departure time, looked at her watch, and calculated she had fifteen minutes to say what she was going to say. Whatever that was.

Lauren cleared her throat. “Hey, Shel.”

“Oh God.” Shelby jumped. “I swear I’m going to kill Avi. He promised to give me a big lead!”

“C’mon, Shel. He’s my husband. He loves me.”

“Whatever…How did you get here so fast? He dropped me off not twenty minutes ago.”

“What ken I say?” she mimicked her husband. “He taught me lots of shortcuts.”

Shelby nodded, sipping the last drip of coffee. “It’s not going to help, you know. There’s nothing you can say to make me change my mind.”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure I saw you before you left, so I could at least say thank you for everything you did.”

“You don’t really expect me to believe that?” Shelby searched her bag for a mint.

“No, really. I mean it. I want you to know how much it meant to me that you saw the doctor, even though it totally freaked you out. I mean, everyone said you were too selfish to do it, but I disagreed. I said deep down you were a very kind, loving person.”

“Who’s everyone?” Shelby stuck out her chin.

“Doesn’t matter. My point is I wanted you to know that even though this isn’t working out the way I hoped, I really appreciate that you tried.”

“Uh-huh,” Shelby said. “You do know your ruse is about as see through as Saran Wrap.”

Lauren shrugged. “So watcha reading?”

“An old diary.” Shelby looked down at the faded yellow book with the legendary seventies daisy on the cover. “The one I kept in seventh grade.”

“Oh, God. I would hate to read mine. That was the year I got my period and my boobs grew like crazy. I was miserable.”

“I actually remember that.” Shelby started to laugh. “Aunt Roz took you to A&S to buy your first bra, and you came home with this monster-sized thing that would have fit Granny Bea Good.”

“Yeah, and then you yelled at her for being such an idiot, and drove me back over there so you could help me pick out something pretty.”

“But she needs SUPPORT,” Shelby mimicked Aunt Roz.

Lauren laughed and wiped her eye. “I’m not sure, but that might have been the nicest thing you ever did for me.”

“Oh come on. I used to do lots of nice things for you.”