Groomless - Part 1 (5 page)

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover the rent,” I said.

“How? You barely have enough money to cover your own half. Why don’t we get another roommate? Ann’s been off filming that B movie of hers, and I know she’s not paying a cent of the rent either.”

“She said she’s coming back soon.”

“Well, empty promises don’t pay the bills. Besides, you know how she is. ‘Soon’ might mean three months to her. Maybe it’s time to think about other options. Remember Barbara, that blonde actress? She needs a place.”

“She’s a lush,” I said. “Drunks are out of the question.”

“Well, we need to do something. I’m tired of living on ramen. You know that stuff is 400 calories, right? How am I supposed to keep my girlish figure eating that?”

“I dunno. Maybe moving all that laundry around helps.”

“Very funny,” she said, huffing. “Hey, I know! Why don’t you do some modeling too? You’re gorgeous, and you could make a lot more money than what you’re earning now if you’ll get on the other side of the camera. You’ll get more jobs as a model. And you’re way prettier than me.”

“Thanks, but we both know that’s not true. I’m a brunette, and you’re the blonde bombshell. Your pictures are the most stunning I’ve ever seen, and I would know.”

“Thanks. You’re always such a sweetie. I guess starting out isn’t so easy.”

“It’s a little rough. Once you get established with some big agencies and a few connections, you’ll be okay, but my dream is to be a fashion photographer. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, ever since I was a kid.”

“Living in New York City can sure be tough,” she said. “Where’s my prince charming?”

“We don’t need those. We’re strong, independent women, taking Manhattan by the horns. Anyway, I’ll bring home dinner after work…and don’t worry about the rent. We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go ruin my stilettos pounding the damn pavement again, I guess. I have the entire day, so maybe I’ll get lucky.”

“Get lucky, huh?” I said, laughing.

“With a job, I mean…although the other kind of lucky sounds pretty good right about now too.”

“Girl, you know you need to let that hot mess of a boyfriend go. If you decide to head over to his place just because you have the day off, remember that he’s jobless and about to be evicted. If you keep hanging around losers like him, you’re gonna end up in his shoes.”

“I already
am
in his shoes,” she whined.

“You won’t be jobless for long.”

“Speaking of him, do you think he could stay with us for a week or two, just until he gets on his feet?”

“With all those screaming matches you two have? Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, I know he gets really excited, and—”

“I’m talking about your
fights
, goof.”

“Oh yeah. We do fight a lot, but our make-up sessions are beyond steamy, and then we get to screamin’ again.”

I laughed. “On that note, I gotta run. Good luck today.”

She let out a long sigh. “I don’t think anyone takes me seriously.”

“They do, Kate. Just give them time. The world just hasn’t discovered you yet.”

“Yeah? Remember back in January, when it was freezing? I took that long subway ride and passed out samples of lotion to participants of the Coney Island Polar Bear Plunge.”

“Hey, you saved them from getting sunburn.”

“They were jumping into freezing water! Sunburn was clearly the last thing on their minds.”

We both laughed.

“Just remember, it can be worse. Remember when you had to wear the big, fluffy wedding dress and hand out flyers in the hot, scorching sun for hours?”

“I sweated off all my makeup, and that bridal company had an absolute fit. See? That’s my point. It seems like those gigs are the only jobs I can get. I didn’t expect to be a top model overnight or anything, but come on! It’s been a while now. I hate struggling so much. Maybe I should peruse acting. At least Ann has a gig, even if it is just a scream queen part that makes her flop her boobs all over the place while she’s running from some guy with an axe.”

“Just give it a little more time. We can’t give up on our dreams. I’m struggling as well. Sometimes my boss goes a week before assigning new shoots to me, and that hurts, since I’m not salary or hourly.”

“We just have to fight harder,” she said.

“Exactly. We won’t let New York City eat us up and spit us out.”

“Okay. Well, thanks for the pep talk. Have a great day. Catch ya later.”

“Bye,” I said.

Chapter 3

After work, I stopped for a quick visit with my dad. Riverside Nursing Home was a 420-bed skilled nursing facility, situated in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, near Columbia University.

The elevator opened, and a smiling nurse greeted me at the nurses station. “Hi, Julia,” she said.

“Hello.”

“Love the ballerina bun.”

I smiled. “Love yours too.”

“See? It’s the perfect hairstyle for any female powerhouse. It’s feminine yet strikingly authoritative. How’s the world of fashion today?”

“Very…hectic.”

“What was on the agenda for today?”

“Designer jeans. We had some hot male models, with the most gorgeous bodies I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Mercy! I’ll take that kind of hectic. Can we please trade jobs?” She leaned over the Formica counter and whispered, “The hottest body I see in here is Mr. Graves, and that’s only because he’s always got a fever and insists on taking his clothes off so he sticks to his wheelchair!”

I laughed. “Hot guys or not, I’d rather have a steady paycheck every week. So… How’s Dad today?”

Huffing, she closed the chart. “Stubborn as ever! I love that man to death, but some days…”

“Playing tough guy again, huh? Refusing his pain meds?”

“Uh-huh, and he needs more than pain patches. Can you talk to him?”

I pointed to myself. “As if he listens to me. That man has a mind of his own.”

She shook her head and chuckled. “You’re preachin’ to the choir on that, girl.”

I walked down the corridor with my heels click-clacking on the gaudy tile and my stylish skirt swishing from side to side. When I knocked on the door, my dad invited me in. “Hi, Dad!”

“Hey! I’m so happy to see you,” he said, raising the head of his bed up and shutting off the small television. “How was work?”

“Chaotic. My boss went ballistic on me. I had a dozen models at the studio, and two of my assistants called off. I did the best I could.”

“That’s all you can do, sweetheart. When life gives you lemons—”

“Yeah, yeah. Make lemonade,” I finished. “Anyway, how was chemo? Are you feeling okay?”

He shifted in bed, adjusting his white pillow. “It was a walk in the park. Also, you can save your breath.”

“Huh?”

“I know that nurse put you up to talking to me about taking those pain pills, but I’m not gonna do it. I’ve never needed them in my life, and I’m not gonna become a drug addict now.”

I squeezed his hand. “Whatever you decide, Dad, we’ll get through this together.”

He shot me a victorious look. “Right. I lost your mother, and I survived. I went through chemo, and I survived that too. Besides, once you’ve conquered Mt. Everest, there’s nothing you can’t do.”

“Hell yeah.”

I glanced at the picture on his dresser, the photo of him standing atop the famous mountain. He was much younger, wearing a thick blue coat, with his hood pulled up to protect himself from the harsh winter landscape. The view was stunning behind him as he held his arms high in victory. I knew he kept that picture beside him for a reason, to remind him of all the mountains he’d conquered in his life and to give him the strength to conquer this new one. For him, the mountain was a sign of hope, courage, determination, and a never-give-up attitude.

A moment later, Dad’s fifty-year-old roommate pulled the divider curtain open and glanced at him. “What made you wanna climb it anyway, Bill?” he asked.

My dad’s face lit up as the memory came back to him in vivid detail. “It was always a big dream of mine.”

“Yeah, but there are more interesting mountains out there, more challenging ones, more beautiful ones. What made you choose Everest?”

“Simple. It’s the
biggest,
” my dad said.

His roommate laughed. “Of course. You wanted a trophy mountain. I bet it was one heck of a self-esteem booster.”

“Absolutely.”

I was glad my dad had a good roommate and that he was housed in the skilled unit of the nursing home, a place dedicating to helping people get better so they could be released to go back home. My father was recovering from surgery and chemo, and he hoped to be released soon. Meanwhile, his cheery and encouraging roommate was there for physical therapy after a hip replacement surgery.

As happy as I was that dad was recuperating, there were days when I simply wanted to bawl my eyes out about the entire situation. It was difficult to adjust to my father’s liver cancer diagnosis, and unsettling feelings of anger and frustration brewed deeply within. Cancer changed our family forever. My mom, bless her soul, died of lung cancer, so my daddy’s diagnosis was like some cruel case of déjà vu. He was all I had left, and I didn’t want to lose him.

My father had always been the greatest, most loving, devoted, caring person I know. When I left to pursue my dreams, he was always my biggest supporter and cheerleader. He gave me the greatest gift any father could give his daughter: He always believed in me. He was the greatest husband and father the world had ever known, and he taught me the power of love and strength. He had the greatest sense of humor and could always make me laugh. Plus, he even loved the same music and movies as me, and that made him extra cool in my book.

He loved my mother with the intensity of a thousand suns and never cheated on her. I always appreciated the wonderful role he played in my life, in helping me become all I wanted to be and could be. I appreciated him so much and was glad he was in my life. No matter what storms we endured, he was a pillar of strength, always there to support his family. Even battling cancer, he remained strong, patient, and focused, letting his inner strength be a guiding light in the darkness. Even when he was suffering great pain himself, he smiled and asked me about my day.

The thought of him being in the nursing home often brought tears to my eyes, and I wished I could take the cancer away and give him back his life. Chemo had been tough, but we were sure he would beat his disease in the end. He had to, because he was my dad, and I loved him, and I sure as hell couldn’t live without him. In spite of all the disappointments and heartbreaks and losses I’d faced in life, I had to hang on to the glimmer of hope that everything would work out in the end. He had always taught me that no obstacle would be too big to overcome, no hurdle too high to jump, and I held tight to those words, willing myself to survive anything. 

The nursing assistant walked into my dad’s room and set his dinner on a tray near his bed, then quickly left. She was in a rush and seemed overworked, but I’d met her before and knew that she, like most of the staff there, was very nice and loved taking care of people.

My dad glanced down at the dry, overdone chicken and stabbed it with his fork. “It’s not your mother’s cooking, that’s for sure.”

I laughed. “I miss her roast beef.”

He closed his eyes, as if remembering her. “Yeah, it was to die for.”

My mother was my angel, and even after she was gone, she always lived on in my heart. I missed her so much, and the pain of losing her, even years later, still cut deeply. I couldn’t bear to think about losing my dad too. As I looked over at him, tears welled in my eyes, and I began to get emotional. I didn’t want to lose it in front of him, his roommate, and the staff, and I knew I had to put on a brave face for him, to be his pillar of strength for a change. That was hard when I wanted to burst into a fit of tears and scream at the sky, demanding to know why he had to go through it in the first place. He certainly didn’t deserve it, and he’d already lost the love of his wife to the same dreadful disease that was now threatening to take him away from me.

Knowing it was best that I leave before I had a complete meltdown, I grabbed my purse, walked over to him, and placed a peck on his cheek. “I’m gonna let you eat, Dad. I’ve got some strict deadlines to meet.”

“Always working, aren’t ya, kiddo? And moonlighting too.” He shook his head. “You should stop taking those side jobs writing fashion articles. Why don’t you go out and have dinner with a nice fellow or something?”

“Well, for starters, so-called nice fellows are hard to come by these days.” As much as I loved my dad, I didn’t appreciate his constant reminders of my nonexistent love life and the slew of bad dates I’ve had.
Who has time to date anyway?
I asked myself. I was far too overworked and stressed out for that. 

“Well, there’s this really nice male nurse, and he—”

“Dad, please don’t tell me you’re trying to set me up.”