Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead (14 page)

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Authors: Saralee Rosenberg

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Mindy even felt bad for Rhoda, who was bewildered by her husband’s crazy antics. And though she had threatened to throw the bum out, all she really wanted was for this tail wind to blow over so they could return to the days when she was boss and Stan agreed.

Mostly Mindy felt sorry for herself. She had so wanted to participate in the Downtown Greetings’ contest, but with their lives under siege, and their checkbook in need of a winning lottery ticket, how could she justify spending money on airfare and hotel when they were already swimming in debt and still owed money toward the kids’ camps?

Time to resort to her trusty allies, Chips Ahoy and the deep, Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

117

meditative state where she would visualize being at a secluded spot by the ocean, smelling the salt air, feeling the cool breeze, listening to the soothing waves, and holding Mr. Waspy’s head underwater.

Too bad she didn’t have the survival instincts of Bill Clinton, a man who could decompartmentalize his worries like dividers in a sock drawer. She, unfortunately, was more the Monica type, imbibing in food, drink, and folly to put herself out of her misery.

But before she could raid the pantry, she got a text message from Nadine.

so mad gonna be away 4 ur pb party . . . wanted new coach bag w/ scarf

. . . look 4 me

And there it was. The first plate to crash. This wasn’t just a text message. It was a reminder that weeks ago Mindy had agreed to host a pocketbook party for her neighbor Karen, and it was scheduled for tomorrow evening.

Yes she would get to pick out a free bag in exchange for her hospitality, but it would only be a fake, and was she that anxious to carry a look-alike designer pocketbook that she was willing to turn over her den to twenty cake-eating neighbors on a school night?

Not to mention, Stacie had warned her mom not to try passing off the free bag to her as compensation for babysitting Jamie and Ricky, as the bitchy girls at school could spot a knock-off from down the hall and wouldn’t hesitate to inspect it for authenticity. “
Ew.
The stitching is crooked, and duh, everyone knows Chanel only has one
n
.”

Mindy didn’t have the patience to chat by text and called Nadine back. Maybe she would have some advice on how to get out of this party obligation.

“What should I do?” Mindy asked. “Karen will kill me if I 118

Saralee Rosenberg

back out last minute, especially since David keeps telling her she’s a terrible businessperson, but we just got home, and I have so much to do and I hate Karen’s friends. They all think they’re such hot shit because they drive around in little sports cars and have husbands who are afraid of them.”

“I don’t get why can’t she do this at her house? It’s huge.”

“That’s the problem. Every time people see how big it is, they don’t end up buying very much because they’re sitting there wondering what the hell she’s doing selling pocketbooks.”

“Yeah. What the hell is she doing selling pocketbooks? She doesn’t need the money.”

“That’s what I thought, but she told me that David keeps her on a very tight budget and she was just tired of having to answer to him every time she went shopping.”

“They’re on a tight budget? What does that mean exactly?

That they put in regular gas when they fill up their BMWs and the boat?”

“I don’t know . . . not my problem. But what do you think I should do?”

“Maybe tell her that Ricky got lice on the cruise. She’ll cancel in a heartbeat. But forget about that. Fill me in. What’s the story with Beth? I heard she hooked up with some rich plastic surgeon.

Did she really leave Richard?”

For as many years as she and Nadine had gossiped about her annoying next-door neighbor, now that Mindy had been brought into her confidence, it felt wrong to betray her. Not that Beth didn’t deserve the slap in the face after years of being a neighbor abuser.

But no time for chitchat as a second plate was crashing. Stacie was sending her a message from school, in spite of the rule banning cell phones. Didn’t matter. She, like every other kid, thought nothing of text messaging all day long to complain about unfair teachers and which kids were being mean.

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119

MOM y didnt u text me! I need 2 no if IM invited 2 Justin Weinbergs

. . . Danielle thought I was but then Tracy sed her mom sed that Justins
mom had 2 cut the list so shes not sure
Mindy didn’t dare tell Stacie that no invitations had come in the mail. Not only would this break her daughter’s heart, she’d probably go and bomb her math test next period, and if she didn’t keep up her A average, Mr. Beller might not recommend her for the honors class next year, and then she’d cry that all her friends would think she was an idiot.

Mindy decided to lie and say she hadn’t gotten to the post office yet and not everyone received things on the same day.

Maybe it would be in tomorrow’s mail. At least this would keep the plate spinning a little while longer. But wait. Was that the sound of another one falling?

“Oh, thank God you’re home.” Artie called from the store.

“You are not going to believe the call I just got.”

“Any chance it was Publishers Clearinghouse?”

“I need you to get me on a f light to Portland either tonight or first thing tomorrow. Aaron just called. Turns out Wayne wasn’t drunk when he got home. He was dead!”

“Oh my God! He was dead? What does that mean?”

“What do you mean what does that mean?” Artie screamed.

“Why do you have such a hard time with this concept? His mother’s gone, Walter’s gone, and now Wayne. He has no one left in the whole friggin’ state of Oregon to care for him other than some pregnant chick who may expect him to drop out of school so he can support them. That’s what it means!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m in shock, too. Start over. Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t have time. It’s crazy here. Some lady from the child welfare agency took Aaron back to her office and is waiting for me to get back to her with my f light information.”

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“Does she know about the baby?”

“Mindy, I don’t even know if
he
knows about the baby.”

“Okay, but how is he? Was he singing?”

“I don’t know. I only spoke to him for a minute before he handed the phone to the lady. . . . God, this is such a nightmare.

Everyone who raised him is dead from an overdose. . . .”

“I know this might sound crazy, but maybe I should go instead of you. Who’s going to manage the store if you’re gone?”

“James.”

“You didn’t fire him? He was arrested and he stole a store deposit.”

“He’s getting me the money back. Just get me a flight.”

“Artie . . . wait. Hear me out. You’re not good with this stuff.

You get so emotional.”

“Would you stop? He’s my responsibility. I’ll be fine. Maybe call your mom to see when she’s getting back from Florida. If she can watch the kids, you can at least open and close the store, make the deposits . . .”

“ . . . do the laundry, the food shopping, all the car pooling, work at your dad’s office, have a pocketbook party . . .”

“What pocketbook party?”

“Never mind. You just gave me the perfect out. . . . Rest in peace, Wayne.”

Mindy wanted to call Beth but was hesitant, just as she was when she had to call the pediatrician in the middle of the night. She never wanted to be thought of as one of those panicky mothers who didn’t know the difference between a routine question and a serious medical emergency. But then she thought screw it. Her crisis trumped Beth’s hands down.

“I was actually going to call you,” Beth said.

“You were?”

“Yeah. Did you get that e-mail from Downtown Greetings?”

Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

121

“I have no idea. I haven’t had two seconds to pee let alone check my mail. It’s been such a wild morning. Do you mind my asking where you are?”

“I told you. In the Hamptons . . . at a friend’s house. That’s all I’m going to say!”

“Look, I’m not trying to be nosy. I’m asking because I have some really crazy stuff going on here and I can’t do all the driving myself. I need your help.”

“Oh, please! I can see right through your little ruse. Richard put you up to this.”

“No he didn’t. This has nothing to do with him. Artie has a six a.m. flight tomorrow to Portland because when Aaron got back he found out his uncle died, and that was after finding out a few days before that his mother died, and we don’t think he knows that he may have gotten this girl pregnant, and then our store manager was arrested over the weekend for—”

“You’re babbling, Mindy, and I have no idea what any of it has to do with me, but I am not coming back yet.”

“But you don’t understand. I can’t handle your problems and my problems and—”

“Well, I’m sorry. Richard needs to get it through his thick skull that he can’t keep blaming me for every goddamn thing that goes wrong. It’s not my fault that he was passed over for a promotion.

Maybe if he was spending less time drinking and more time focusing on his clients, he’d be getting bigger bonuses and could stop hocking me about going back to a job I’m no longer qualified for, or young enough for, or whatever the hell that asshole headhunter said that was so totally lame.”


Um,
okay. That was a lot of information.”

“Whatever,” Beth puffed. “Now you know why I’m doing this.”

“Are you smoking?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I never saw you with a cigarette before.”

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“Well don’t get all preachy. I’m not a chain-smoker. It’s just when I’m stressed.”

“Whatever . . . Look, I’m really sorry you guys are having a hard time, but do you think maybe you could run away a different week? My mom is still in Florida and with Artie leaving tomorrow, how am I going to get everyone to school, then open the store, get to work, be back in time for the afternoon run, get everyone to—”

“Just tell Richard he’s going to have to help out.”

“But he’s your husband!”

“Exactly, and I’m sick of him always leaving everything in my lap. Now the car pool is HIS problem.”

“Okay, but they’re
your
kids! Can’t you ask Jill or some other friends to help out?”

“How many times do I have to explain this? It’s bad enough that
you
know what’s going on, I don’t need the whole neighborhood discussing my business. I’m sure you’ll figure something out. You’re good like that. Shit, he’s back and he told me not to smoke in here. I have to go.”

Mindy was stunned. It was big news to discover that the Perfect Diamonds had marriage and money troubles, and that Artie was right, there was no such thing as an E-ZPass for life, eventually everyone had to pay the toll. And then for Beth to suddenly dump all those problems on Mindy was even stranger. Only a few days earlier she’d accused Mindy of maiming her children.

Now she was leaving them in her care?

An hour later, she was still so riled, she had vacuumed the entire house, cleaned all the bathrooms, and did three loads of laundry. She just wished there was someone with whom she could vent. She couldn’t burden Artie. He was frantically trying to pack last week’s work and now this week’s work into what would be his only day in the store.

Nadine, of course, would gladly listen, but she’d promise not Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

123

to breathe a word, then spread the gossip fast as a blogger. And forget Karen. She hated Beth and didn’t give a damn about her problems. Her only concern was that Mindy was trying to back out of her party commitment, and that was impossible. She had no way of telling people that it was off.

“I sent out like a hundred e-mails and who knows how many people forwarded it?”

“A hundred e-mails? I don’t have room for that many people.

You said it would be maybe twenty, twenty-five at most.”

“Well maybe it will be. I never know who’s going to show.

They just come.”

“Okay, but what if Ricky has lice?”

“Mindy, I don’t care if he has all ten plagues! Just tell him to stay upstairs. I spent two days on a buying trip for this party and I got such cute stuff for summer, but I’m already out the money so you have to do this because David will kill me if I don’t make it back, and I also don’t want to start breaking out in hives, which is what happens when I get very tense. Remember last summer? I overdosed on Benadryl and almost had to go to the hospital? You have to do this for me! It’s life and death.”

“No, of course. Life and death. Can’t wait . . . Who doesn’t like a new pocketbook?”

Eleven

If deleting spam was an Olympic event, Mindy would be a gold medalist for speed. She was not interested in Hoodia at whole-sale or hey dude, getting hard in ten minutes and satisfying her girlfriend, she just wanted to read the messages that came from people she knew. But in her haste to get rid of the waste, an e-mail from Downtown Greetings nearly got cut.

This must have been the one Beth asked her about, and good thing she read it, for she learned that for some odd reason, she’d been awarded a scholarship that covered her travel expenses. All she had to do was download the agreement form and return it signed within five days. Wait. What? She’d won something?

Incredible. Perchance a turning point? Then Dubious and his cousin Doubtful dropped by. At Artie’s request, she had tried distancing herself from them, but they kept hanging around, like party guests who wouldn’t leave.

Yet as much as Mindy wanted to believe the scholarship offer was valid, she didn’t want to be naive. What if it was a come-on like those too-good-to-be-true credit card offers that helped Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

125

consolidate your debts, only to discover you had just agreed to pay stiff penalties for late payments?

It reminded her of the time Nadine’s son, Jonathan, got approached at the mall by a woman asking if he’d ever considered a career in modeling. He went home so excited that he could earn enough money to pay for college because he had “the look.”

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