Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead (12 page)

Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

99

You’re so smart, and you’ve already been through so much. You deserve the truth.”

“Thanks.” He chugged his beer as if it was medicinal.

“Look. It’s just a guess, but you probably think we’re these spoiled, rich people who don’t have any problems, let alone any idea what it’s like to feel powerless all the time . . . and maybe it’s true that we can’t relate to what your life has been like, but that doesn’t mean that we’re uncaring. Both your father and I really want to help you through this. You just have to let us.”

“There’s nothin’ you can do. And I don’t need anyone’s help.

I’ve been doing everything on my own since I’m ten.”

“I believe you, honey. You seem incredibly capable. But as much as you know, there is a lot you don’t. Believe it or not, one of the first true signs that a boy has become a man is his ability to reach out when he’s in trouble and say, hey, I need help.”

“You don’t get it. This isn’t gonna matter ’cause my life’s not gonna change now.”

“Actually, this changes everything.”
And you don’t know the half
of it.

“Like hell it does! She didn’t do nothin’ for me anyway . . . my friends’ moms were all nicer than her to me . . . I’ll be okay.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. I’m just telling you that I know that emotions can change over time. Look, right now you’re angry, so of course you’re determined to keep doing everything for yourself. But what happens if one day you can’t find a job, or you’re confused about a relationship? It could make you feel lost and depressed. But if you have people like us around who truly care, we’ll help you get back on your feet.”

“Whatever.” He chugged his beer.

“Not to mention, there are going to be lots of decisions like where you’ll live.”

“I’m not movin’ in with you—you can’t make me do that—I’m going home.”

100

Saralee Rosenberg

“Nobody is saying you have to move in with us, but you’ll still need financial support, legal guardians. There’s a lot of stuff that’s going to come up.”
Like say in nine months
.

“Oh thank God we found you.” A breathless, windblown Rhoda barged in with Artie, whose strong aftershave did not mix well with the sweat on his tomato-red face. “We thought something bad happened. Aaron, you scared us to death.”

Excellent choice of words as always
,
Rhoda
.

“Aaron . . . how ya doing?” Artie leaned over to hug his boy.

“We’re so sorry. . . .”

“He knows,” Mindy sighed. “We’ve just been talking about how to handle everything.”

“Good! Now here’s the plan,” Rhoda announced. “I spoke to the captain, a lovely man from Nova Scotia, and he said that right after we take our family portraits tonight, Aaron can join him in the command center. Wouldn’t that be fun, honey? Go home and tell your friends you got to steer a huge ship?”

Mindy looked at Artie. Was she serious?

“Mom,” Artie said. “Let’s do this later. It’s a little too soon right now.”

“What’s too soon? There’s nothing he can do to bring his mother back. He might as well have a good time. We’re on a cruise, for God’s sake! And I am NOT going back to the captain to tell him that this young man isn’t interested in his very generous offer.”

“Mom!” Mindy said. “Aaron isn’t a child. You can’t just make him forget his problems by taking him on a fun ride like it’s Disney. He needs a chance to be alone and think.”

“Think, schmink! All that will do is give him a chance to sit around sulking.”

Um
,
he wasn’t exactly sulking when I found him
. “Aren’t you being a little insensitive here?” Mindy eyed Artie as if to say jump in Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

101

at any time. “What if someone tried taking you to Coney Island the day your mother died?”

“Why do you always have to twist my words?” Rhoda gasped.

“Mom,” Artie pleaded. “Can we please not make this about you?”

“Of course I don’t want this to be about me. And did I say Aaron shouldn’t feel sad? I’m merely suggesting that he’s here to have fun and fun he’s going to have. Not that I would expect Miss let’s everyone all sleep together and be treated like a baby for the rest of your life to understand . . .”

“Oh my God, Rhoda!” Mindy cried. “Why do you speak to me like that?”

“See what I have to put up with, Aaron?” Out came Rhoda’s pointing finger. “Your grandfather and I were generous enough to take the whole family on this marvelous cruise, and believe me, we could have gone ourselves and been very happy not having to listen to the kids kvetching every few minutes about this one hit me and that one thinks the show is boring and why do we have to get dressed up for dinner again. Now I have to hear bellyachin’

that I don’t know nothin’ from nothin’ about what’s best for a young man. She forgets I raised two wonderful sons who turned out better than good.”

“Mom!” Artie yelled. “Mindy isn’t saying that at all.”

“No, it’s okay.” She raised her hands in surrender. “I know when I’m not appreciated.”

“Here’s an idea,” Mindy whispered to Aaron. “How about I come live with you in Oregon?”

“Cool.”

Nine

Mindy was trying hard not to be negative, yet she vowed to never look at a cruise brochure again and buy into the images of the happy people frolicking in the pool, enjoying gourmet meals, and laughing at the nightly entertainment. Truth be told, when you came with family, a cruise wasn’t a vacation as much as a trip.

Proof was everywhere. Mothers trying to read in between dealing with whiny kids who were hungry, bored, or mad that somebody splashed them. Fathers getting drunk at the pool-side bars so they didn’t have to listen to their annoying kids and angry wives. Grandparents, especially the ones who had paid the freight, looking as if they couldn’t wait to return home to their friends, people who were grateful for what they had, not complainers who felt the need to condemn every meal, excur-sion, and amenity as if they were judging a contest rather than the bounty of their lives.

With this being the final day on board, all Mindy wanted was for it to go by without drama, trauma, or anyone annoying the crap out of her. She wanted to feel rejuvenated so she could Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

103

return to her getting-crazier-by-the-minute life with enough energy to cope. She wanted to hear a nice compliment instead of the usual assortment of hurtful remarks that made her dwell on the perfect comebacks. Mostly she wanted to feel love and pride for her daughters without thinking how unfair it was that by virtue of their short, round bodies, their net worth had already plummeted when compared to the premium placed on the skinny girls and their matching moms, who sauntered by in bikinis, stirring envy with each step.

Was this too much to ask?

“Now what?” she looked up to see a tense-looking Artie settle into his deck chair.

“What do you mean?” He lathered up in sunscreen, laid back, and shut his eyes. “Everything’s peachy keen.”

“Okay, who are you and what did you do to my husband?”

“Fine. We got several disturbing e-mails; Aaron is mad because I asked him not to fly right home after we get back; my mother is insisting you owe her an apology for accusing her of being insensitive; Ira won’t stop hocking me about looking at vacation homes near theirs, which really pisses me off because he’s only doing it to rub it in that he makes three times what I do; Stacie and Jamie are crying at the rock climbing thing because some boy said they were too fat to make it to the top; Ricky just punched Abby in the back and Dana is punishing him; oh, and I think I just saw my dad f lirting with some blonde at the art auction on deck seven.”

“Excellent. Care for a drink?” She toasted him with her Cosmo.

“At nine thirty?”

“I figured if I started now, it’ll eventually get later.”

“I’m not gonna lie. This cruise didn’t turn out like I expected.”

“Oh I know.” She sipped the sweet drink. “Weren’t the floor shows so lame?”

104

Saralee Rosenberg

“And is it just me, or are we the only two people left in America without tattoos?”

“Sorry. It’s down to you. For my birthday, I had your mother’s name branded on my ass.”

“Yeah. Sorry it was so awful. I promise I’ll make it up to you when we get home. Meantime, can you patch things up with her so we don’t have to get the silent treatment the whole way home?”

“No. I am so sick of the way she treats me. She says the most awful things and I’m supposed to take it because she’s got this huge checkbook hanging over our heads. And I don’t understand why you never defend me. Why don’t you ever defend me?”

“I do. The problem is she’s never going to change and you still keep sparring with her. Just ignore her like the rest of us do.

Why do you think my dad was talking to that lady? It was weird.

I’ve never seen him laugh like that; he really looked like he was having fun.”

“Can you blame him? He wasn’t being insulted for a change.

Where is your mom anyway?”

“At the spa for the whole day. They’re going to turn her into Cinderella.”

“That good they’re not.”

Artie laughed.

“I just can’t stand the way she always puts me down,” Mindy sighed. “Not Dana. Never Dana. But here’s an idea. Did you happen to notice if there’s a hypnotist on board? Maybe I can be put into a trance:
Rhoda is a wonderful woman. Rhoda is so thoughtful.

Rhoda—.
”

“Should come with a warning label, but forget that. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

“Oh no. Please. Let’s table that discussion, ’cause whatever new crisis just came up, I’m sure it will be as painful and horrible when we get home.”

Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

105

“Sorry. One of the items can’t wait.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to order a drink first?”

“No. I need to be fully alert—oh my God—there’s my dad with that lady again.”

“Where?” Mindy scanned the crowd, but between the bright sun and every passenger dressed in tropical attire, it was hard to pick anyone out of the crowd.

“Don’t look! I don’t want him to see us.”

“Too late. He’s wearing a blue shirt and . . . okay, relax. He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“Oh. So it would be fine if I showed up at the pool with another woman?”

“No, but I’m sure it’s totally innocent. Although remember that story Nadine told me about her neighbors who split up after their anniversary cruise? The husband met this woman at the spa and—”

“Mindy! I don’t want to hear that. Oh my God. She’s rubbing suntan lotion on him. Should I go over there and say something?”

“Like what? Excuse me, that’s my father you’re trying to arouse and if my mother finds out, she’ll get last night’s magician to make you disappear?”

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing . . . my dad messing around in broad daylight.”

“There seems to be a lot of that going around these days.”

Mindy thought of Beth. “But don’t get crazy. They’re not doing anything wrong . . . uh-oh . . . hold on. . . . She’s rubbing his thigh.

Whoa Betsy! Gettin’ a little close to the family jewels there. But
aww . . .
Look. He’s smiling. Oh, man. I hope he doesn’t invite her to sit with us at dinner tonight.”

“That’s it.” Artie sprung up. “I’m going over there. Today is his anniversary and this is no way to—”

“Artie, sit down. Let him enjoy the attention. After forty years with your mother, the man deserves a little happiness.”

106

Saralee Rosenberg

“What are you talking about? He is very happy. He’s got his health, his wealth and a wife who has stood by him all these years.”

“Fine. Then look at it this way. You weren’t sure what to get him and now you know.”

So much for world peace, an end to global warming, and being able to enjoy this last day of the cruise by milking it for every last moment of relaxation.

One of the e-mails Artie had read came from Inez, the book-keeper, who wrote to say that the store manager had been arrested last night for both DWI and striking an officer. His car was impounded, his head had to be stitched, and the only way he could make bail was to borrow the twenty-four-hundred-dollar deposit from the store. She wanted to know what to do.

Start a fire?
Mindy thought, not that it would be good if life began imitating old Jewish jokes, like the one about two friends who owned factories in the garment district, and one says, “Sol, sorry to hear your place burned down and Sol says, ‘
Shhh,
not till Friday.’”

Unfortunately the e-mail about the store wasn’t the only mood crapper. Wayne also got back in touch. Apparently, Aaron had missed a good part of the school year and would likely have to repeat eleventh grade, which was topic A at the truancy hearing he was a no-show for.

“Want me to go on?” Artie asked.

“No. I was just thinking. If I take the elastic band from my cover-up and tie one end around my neck and the other to the back of this chair, then you could pull really tight and—”

“Forget it.” Artie took her drink. “You are not leaving me to deal with this by myself.”

“Wait.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “This is Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

107

the new me talking . . .
hummmmm
. . . none of this is life threatening and we still have our health, right?”

“Not sure. I think I might be feeling a real heart attack coming on.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” She moved to his chair and rubbed his back. “I’ll get in touch with the store and tell them what to do; I’ll get the number for Aaron’s school and speak to the principal; I’ll locate his girlfriend; apologize to your mom; convince Aaron to stay an extra few days . . . oh, and I’m also going to win the contest from Downtown Greetings and earn lots of money.”

“Wow! The new you is awesome. . . . Do you give blow jobs now?”

“About as often as you buy me diamonds and take me on nice vacations.”

“Can you at least make sure my dad doesn’t do anything he’ll regret?”