Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead (20 page)

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Authors: Saralee Rosenberg

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“Let’s take one step at a time. Just let me in so I can help you.”

Stacie waddled over to the door and hid behind it. “I hate this!

I’m gonna die if I get this every month.”

“I remember saying the same thing.” Mindy zeroed in on the Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

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blood-stained rug and knew she’d better get it in the wash before Ricky saw it and started screaming there were monsters in the house.

“I wish I never had to have it!” she cried. “I’m not ready.”

“I know, sweetie, but think of it as joining a new club. We meet monthly to eat chocolate.”

“Jillian Wynter told me that once you get it you look pregnant and your jeans don’t fit.”

“Well, Jillian Wynter is wrong. Once you get it you automatically start to act like an adult who makes excellent decisions about not smoking, drinking, or hooking up with bad boys.”

“You mean Britney Spears never got her period?”

“Good point! Let’s get you some Advil and clean underwear and I’ll show you how to wear the pads so you don’t waddle. Welcome to womanhood.” She gently slapped her face.

“Hey! You said that was stupid.”

“I know, but I just realized why moms do it. They start to think about their daughters dating and they smack ’em around to remind ’em who’s boss.”

Mindy should have known that a morning that began with blood and screaming would be an ominous sign. If only she’d had time to consult with her online astrologer to find out what else was in store so that she could stock up on Oreos, the breakfast of cowards.

As of now, the day was scheduled to be a repeat of yesterday’s chaos, hopefully minus the rescue mission in Babylon. She had agreed to do the morning car pool so that Beth could gather strength for her own brewing storm (“I must find a cleaning lady!”), but it still meant getting her three kids moving and Rebecca to the high school, then coming back for the other school runs, opening the store, and being at work by ten.

What she didn’t need in the middle of helping Stacie and as-174

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suring her that yes, girls all over the world did attend school in spite of having their periods, was a phone call from Rhoda demanding the name and phone number of the accounting firm that handled Stan’s medical practice. “I wouldn’t have had to bother you on the phone if you’d answered my e-mails.”

I’m surprised I still get your e-mails. I report them as spam!
“Rhoda, I really wish you wouldn’t ask me to get in the middle of this whole thing.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“I’m not on anyone’s side. I just want to go in and do my job

. . . not to mention Stan signs my paycheck.”

“Well I will certainly remember this the next time you need something from me! Where is Arthur?”

“You know where he is. He’s in Portland with Aaron” . . .
and
maybe moving there wouldn’t be such a bad idea. . . . “
And aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself here? You don’t need to see the books. I’m sure the two of you will work this out.”

“This has nothin’ to do with the books. I just like knowin’ how things are run over there in case something ever happens to Stan and I have to take over . . . like a governor’s wife. ”

You mean in case you kill him?
“Fine. Then call Edna. She’s the office manager.”

“We no longer speak. She’s an incompetent oaf who can’t keep her big trap shut.”

“Rhoda, I can’t deal with this right now. Stacie got her period, I’m trying to get the kids up, I have to drive Nadine’s daughter to school—”

“Well, excuse me for interrupting your busy life, but I don’t understand how one little favor is such a big megillah.”

“Fine. The minute I get in I’ll call you with the accountant’s phone number.”

“No. I won’t be home. I have my ‘mahj’ game, a lunch date, and a root canal at three. Just e-mail me so I can get it later.”

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Mindy could have also done without the text messages from Nadine about Jonathan’s audition and how he’d thrown up, and she was so nervous for him she couldn’t stop crying, and Peter was yelling at her because she was making things worse, and not to forget that Rebecca had to be at school early for extra help.

Nor did she need the phone call from the unit coordinator at the nursing home saying that her grandmother’s blood pressure was so high, they were taking her for tests and did Mindy want to meet the ambulance at the hospital or wait to hear from the doctor?

Mindy chose option B. She’d wait to hear from the doctor first. “Oh,” the woman said. “And before I hang up, do you know anything about the pickle dish that was stolen from her?”

Damn! Not the pickle dish again. It was the dementia talking, of course. Right before she and her mom moved her grandmother into the home, they’d cleaned out her apartment and found a glass pickle dish with the Alexander’s price tag still glued to the bottom.

It was a nothing tchotchke, but Helene said she’d enjoy having it as it brought back memories of all the Sunday dinners she’d enjoyed at her then future husband’s house. Only to have Grandma Jenny accuse her of stealing her most prized family heirloom.

Since then, Helene hadn’t visited. Therefore it was unlikely that Mindy would repeat the story that she was still asking about the dish, let alone that she’d said that it had been taken by a ganef who had been stealing her blind for years.

Mindy collapsed in a kitchen chair, feeling ambushed by a morning that was less than an hour old. Hopefully all the bad news was now out of the way.

“Mom!!!” Jamie shouted from upstairs. “Alanna Decker’s mom wants to know what we’re doing for my bat mitzvah.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing for lunch today, let alone two years from now. Why is she asking?”

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“I dunno. She just IM’d me.”

“You aren’t supposed to be on the computer before school, remember?” Mindy raced into the foyer. “Now sign off and get dressed. I have to go get Rebecca and you make sure Ricky is moving.”

“I can’t. I’m still printing my book report. Why does the bathroom smell like bird guts?”

“It doesn’t smell like bird guts. Just print what you have to, then get ready. Wait. We didn’t even get your bat mitzvah date yet. Why would Alanna’s mother be asking about it?”

“Because their temple gave out their dates yesterday and her mom called ours to see who had the same date, and they told her it was me.”

“Are you kidding me? The temple gave the date to a family who’s not even a member before they informed us, the people who pay dues? That is so sick. By the way, when is it?”

“May 14, 2010.”

“Nice! Maybe it’s Mother’s Day weekend, but why did Alanna’s mom need to know?”

“Because they’re having her party on a Saturday night like they did for her sister, and her mom said that since Alanna is one of the most popular girls in school, they would feel bad if someone with the same date also did a Saturday night and everyone went to Alanna’s party.”

“Are you freaking kidding me? That’s what she said? Oh my God! What a piece of work! Well you know what? You go back and IM Alanna and tell her to tell her idiot mother that it is none of her goddamn business what our plans are, and I don’t care if her guests are wearing black-tie pajamas to the Waldorf Astoria!

We are doing whatever we damn well please, but not to worry because the way things are going, the only party we’ll be able to afford is at a Wendy’s that’s open late.”

“We’re doing my bat mitzvah at Wendy’s?” Jamie burst into Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead

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tears. “I hate you! That’s not fair! Stacie got to have a real party.

I hate you so much!” She ran to her room.

But mostly what Mindy did not need now was an e-mail from Artie saying he’d finally heard from Waspy and the bank was sorry, but not only were they denying the loan application, they were raising the rates on the current loan due to late payments, and Artie should let him know if he needed the names of some reputable liquidators.

Mindy grabbed a roll of toilet paper and cried into the balled-up mess. Without the bank’s funding they were screwed, what with Jamie’s bat mitzvah on the horizon, not to mention another child to support (possibly two), one of whom would be college-bound if it killed Artie, which it would likely have to, as the only way they could afford Aaron’s tuition was if a life insurance policy paid the way.

“Why is everybody cryin’?” Ricky shook Mindy’s shoulder.

“You’re cryin’ and Jamie’s cryin’ and Stacie’s cryin’. Did somebody die?”

“No, sweetie.” She hugged him. “Nobody died. It’s just girl stuff. Why don’t you get your shoes and come with me when I get Rebecca? Then we’ll stop at Bagel Boss. How’s that?”

“Yeah. Yeah!” He clapped his hands. “Can we get egg sand-wiches, too?”

“Sure.” Mindy grabbed her pocketbook. “If we’re goin’ down, it’s not going to be on an empty stomach.”

Though Mindy hadn’t worked in nearly two weeks, she dreaded walking into the office. Despite her best efforts to conceal her red eyes, clearly she’d been crying and the girls would want an explanation. But unlike the imaginary conversation she’d had with Alanna Decker’s mom on the drive over, ‘none of your goddamn business’ would not f ly.

Most of these women had been together since Stan went into 178

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private practice; they were family to each other, sharing all their simchas and sorrows and there was no such thing as a secret.

You could beg all you wanted for a personal matter not to be discussed, but word would always get out, and even Stan would be in on it, though he swore he wasn’t interested.

In today’s little drama, however, he wasn’t the observer but the subject. Apparently he’d come in this morning and told Edna he was leaving at noon and to refer their patients to the team of covering doctors until further notice, though he offered no explanation why.

So although the girls were polite and told Mindy they wanted to hear all about the cruise, in truth the only thing they wanted details on was what was up with Stan and Rhoda.

“What in God’s name happened?” Edna barely let Mindy get her jacket off.

“What do you mean?” Mindy fumbled with her car keys.

“Oh, come on. We know something went wrong on the cruise.

He’s flying to Florida and she hasn’t stopped calling.”

“It’s no big deal.” Mindy coughed. “He’s meeting an old army buddy to play golf.”

“Right. And I’m leaving for Nantucket to sell my granddaughter’s Girl Scout cookies. Come on! In ten years here, he’s never taken this much time off.”

“I wonder if Rhoda found out about Sydell?” Nurse Diana checked a patient file.

“I don’t think so,” Edna said. “That was years ago. I heard she died.”

“Sydell?” Mindy looked up. “Who’s Sydell?”

Edna and Diana looked at each other. “Nobody.”

“No, come on. That’s not fair.”

“Well, give a little, get a little.” Edna smiled.

“Fine. They had a little misunderstanding on the cruise but they’re working it out.”

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“That had to be one helluva little misunderstanding if he’s leaving town and she’s asking all these questions about the book-keeping records.”

“Mindy get in here.” Stan motioned her inside.

Damn. Like I want to get dragged into yet another marital rift
. But at least the lovely scenic view of the azalea bushes which could be seen from the guest chair would give her a focal point, like when she was in labor and needed a distraction from the pain.

“I’m putting you in charge this week.” He scribbled notes on a pad. “As I’m sure you’ve already heard in great detail, I’m taking the rest of the week off.”

“Putting me in charge of what? Edna is the office manager.”

“I know who I employ, but you’re family. I trust you will see to it that my patients are properly referred, and that under no circumstances are you or anyone to mention my personal affairs.

Furthermore, you are to make sure that Rhoda does not set foot inside my office and if she tries to push you around then—”

“Wait, wait, wait . . . You can’t honestly expect me to show Rhoda the door, Dad.”

“Don’t ‘Dad’ me . . . I’m counting on you to keep things from getting out of control here, and when I get back, there are going to be big changes. Rhoda and I are going our separate ways.”

“Separate ways . . . You can’t be serious. Wait, have you told Artie and Ira?”

“No. When you speak to Arthur later, you can mention it.

And tell him to call Ira. I have to finish packing. What time is it?” He checked his watch. “Oy, the limo will be here soon.”


Whoa.
Hold on! You expect me to be the one to tell your child, oh by the way, your father is leaving your mother?”

“He’s not a child, he’s a grown man with a family. He knows all about meshuggener wives.”

“Hey! I resent that! If anything, I’m the sanest one in the bunch.”

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“Yeah, right,” he snorted. “Every month I feel like you joined some crazy cult.”

“Oh my God! You should hear yourself, acting all innocent.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” he said, glaring at her. “Now if you don’t want to talk to Arthur about this, fine. I’ll call him from the airport myself, but let me know now if you are prepared to carry out your duties this week.”

“Yes, I am planning to do my job, I’m just not planning to do yours. If you have issues to work out with Rhoda, you are not putting me in the middle of them. Besides, where is your sense of responsibility here? Do you honestly believe the grass is greener over at Facelift Barbie’s?”

“The nerve of you!” Stan’s temples danced to the beat. “Take that back!”

“No! I can’t stand it anymore. I’m just so tired of listening to men blaming their wives for their unhappiness without owning up to their own failings!”

“Other men are not my problem. And since when do you come to Rhoda’s defense? You can’t stand the crazy bitch!”

“I’m not defending her. It’s that I can’t stand watching people who think it’s okay to turn their backs on the family they’re supposed to love and protect. Look at Aaron and what it’s done to him, having a mother and a stepfather and an uncle who cared more about their stupid drug habits than taking care of him. And then there’s my next-door neighbor. He’s been lying to his wife for years and thinks it’s no big deal.”

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