A Little Help from Above (26 page)

Am I getting good at this, or what?

Matty might have been right about the view from the Roof Garden at the Met being spectacular, but Shelby could have been atop Mt. Everest and not looked out. For her gaze was fixed on her subject, her thoughts focused on his heartening story. Even the cackling of mingling singles could not divert her attention.

Abby Rosenthal had been right, too. The reason Shelby was unable to locate her childhood friend was because his mother remarried, and her new husband adopted her children. From that day forward, Matthew Jay Lieberman ceased to exist by that name.

“Remember how my parents fought constantly?” he sipped his Dubonnet on the rocks.

Shelby nodded. Who could forget the constant shouting coming from the Liebermans’ house? She even recalled the time her father ran over in his bathrobe in the middle of the night to beg Ed and Carol to give it a rest. Things quieted down for a while, but eventually the familiar echo of yelling and car doors slamming returned.

“Believe it or not, things got worse after we moved. My dad went to work for this Hollywood talent agency, and it was so cutthroat, they canned him after three months.

“It was pretty bad. We were totally broke from the move, my mother was homesick, Wendy was just a baby and very fussy, and I was this lost soul who didn’t have a clue what had happened to my nice little world. I’d sit in my room and cry, which really got my dad crazy.

“I guess it was about a year later he split. He met some woman at a bar who had a few bucks from a lawsuit, and it was as if we never existed. That was hell. We couldn’t afford to keep the house, my mother couldn’t get a decent job because she had no one to watch Wendy…She’d just asked her parents if we could come back to live with them in New York, when a cousin of hers from Portland called to say we could stay with her until we got back on our feet.

“And that’s what we did. We sold the house in like two weeks, packed up the car, and it was Portland or bust.”

“Whatever happened to your dad?” Shelby asked.

“Never saw him again.” he shrugged. “Although I found out
later he’d tried tracking us down. But by then my mom was already remarried, and would have told him to drop dead…which is exactly what he did.

“One night we got a call from his brother saying he had liver cancer, and had died in some seedy boardinghouse in a bad part of L.A. Can you believe it? My father? A drunken bum, penniless, dead at forty-six?”

“Unbelievable,” Shelby said, although the news of his early demise didn’t surprise her. She’d never liked Matty’s dad. He was either cranky or sleeping, and way too quick with the slapping hand. How many times had Matty come over with the imprint still on his face?

“But your mom got remarried. So were things okay after that?”

“I wish…Husband number two was another real prize, a Mr. Philip ‘Deke’ McCreigh. Portland’s own Donald Trump. Part confirmed bachelor, part real estate tycoon.”

“His name was Deke?” Shelby raised her eyebrow.

“What can I say? It was the Wild West. His brother was Pike, and his dad was Dodger. Every one had good-old-boy names.”

“Really? What was yours?” Shelby sipped her sparkling water and lime.

“Do you promise not to tell another living soul?” Matty looked around.

“Scout’s honor.”

“Guzzler.”

“Guzzler?”

“Don’t make fun. I thought it was rather distinguished compared to everyone else’s.”

“Was there any particular significance to the name, or did you pick it out of a hat during sing-along time on a camping trip?”

“Touché.” He wagged his finger. “The name was given to me on a camping trip. But it was because I guzzled all the water out of everyone’s canteens.”

“Hey, you used to do that to me, too! You’d say, ‘Look at the birdie,’ then steal my cherry Kool-Aid.”

“Only because my mother would never buy that stuff. She was afraid we were all going to die from red dye number two. Remember? Anyway, after we moved to Portland, my mother answered a help wanted ad, and the guy who hired her was Deke. He needed a secretary, she needed a man. He liked her dancer’s legs, she liked his
money. Six months later they got married, and for my thirteenth birthday, I got a stepdad and a bike.”

“That sounds wonderful. I mean especially after what you’d already been through.”

“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving. I hated the son of a bitch. He drank a lot, and he was never around. But my mother didn’t care. She had money, prestige, and every year he’d buy her a new car so she could pull up to garden club meetings looking prosperous.”

“And I take it he eventually adopted you?” Shelby couldn’t help sounding like a reporter.

Matty nodded. “About a year after they got married, she convinced him it would look more proper if he took legal responsibility for us. And he was really big on looking proper.”

“And, that’s when you became Matthew J. McCreigh.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t even imagine how strange that must have been. To suddenly have this whole new identity, almost like you were in the witness protection program.”

“Tell me about it. But the strangest part about it was the deal he struck with us. He would only agree to adopt us if we agreed to stop being Jewish.”

“What did he expect you to do? Stop eating bagels?”

“Yes, and stop going to temple. And forget about having a Bar Mitzvah. Oh, and we also had to promise never to mention anything about the Jewish holidays or customs. Instead we became Sunday churchgoers so Deke could show us off to all the fine, upstanding, Christian neighbors who had started a whisper campaign about the money-grubbing Jew from New York who conned good old Deke into adopting her kids.”

“Matty, it sounds surreal. You must have been miserable.”

“If it weren’t for a couple of great friends I made in high school, and their families, I don’t know what would have become of me. I practically lived at their houses.”

“What happened after that?”

He stirred the last of his iced-down drink and chugged it. Several times he started to speak but held back. “It’s hard. This part is hard.”

Shelby reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“I got into Brown you know.”

“Yes, I read that in your engagement announcement.”

“I can’t remember. Did it also happen to say I was class valedictorian, or that I was an all-state track and tennis star?”

“No.”

“Did it say the summer I graduated high school, I found good old Deke in bed with the young man who lived in the house across the street, who was on summer break from USC?” “No…”

“Did it say the following morning, my mother found Deke floating at the bottom of our pool with a self-inflicted bullet wound to his neck?”

“Oh my God!”

“I didn’t think so,” he gulped the rest of his drink. “That sort of thing tends to mess up perfectly nice engagement announcements.”

“I can’t believe what you’re telling me.” Shelby covered her mouth. “You poor thing.”

“No, please. Don’t pity me. Somehow my mom stayed strong during the whole thing and never let Wendy or me fall apart. She put us right into therapy…bought a house in one of the suburbs where no one knew us…she kept saying, ‘It’s not your fault, kids. You did nothing wrong.’ Which was exactly what we needed to hear.”

“Thank God she did all the right things.”

“I know better than anyone what a royal pain in the ass my mother can be, but believe me I am grateful that she was such a tough old bird. Wendy did great in school, I graduated with honors from Brown, went on to Wharton for my MBA. Then, listen to this. At my graduation, she hands me a check for $250,000 and says it’s combat pay because it came from the proceeds of Deke’s life insurance. She’d been saving it so I could start my own business, which I did. And today I run a very successful educational software company that’s about to go public.”

“Wow!” Shelby clutched her heart. “That’s quite a story.”

Matty smiled. “A real movie-of-the-week, right?”

“Starring Carol Burnett as your mother.”

“Perfect casting.” He nodded. “Another tall redhead whose name is Carol.”

After an awkward silence, Shelby was about to bring up the subject of Gwen when Matty’s cell phone rang. The cold reality check they weren’t in Casablanca anymore. And proof his wife had these
uncanny instincts about when her husband was becoming infatuated with another woman.

He excused himself, leaving Shelby to ponder the enormity of the intimate moment they’d just shared. And pray that something would dare come of it.

“Hey.” Matty returned a few minutes later, his boyish grin erased.

“Let me guess. Gwen wanted to know why you’re not back yet.”

“Yes,” he said. “We’ve got company coming.”

“Right. Mummy and Daddy and Chippy and Dippy and Pluto and Goofy…”

“Be nice. My in-laws are nice enough people.”

“I’m sorry. Of course they are.” Shelby sighed. Why wasn’t he sitting down? She felt like a character in a twisted version of Cinderella. When the clock struck twelve, the dutiful prince returned to his kingdom, where sadly he lived out his life with the wrong maiden.

“It’s later than I thought.” He looked at his watch. “Do you think…I really hate to ask you this. But would it be possible for you to take the train home?”

“The train?” Shelby felt as if she’d just taken a kick in the gut. “Sure. No problem.” How could he could even think of leaving her in her fragile state to fend for herself in the big, bad apple? Never mind that she grew up here, too, and knew every inch of the city.

“You sure you don’t mind?” He looked at his watch again.

Of course I mind, but obviously that’s not going to matter. “It’s fine.” Shelby tried to choke back tears. That was some Svengali-like hold Gwen had on him. One phone call, and his entire demeanor changed.

“It was great seeing you, Shelby.” He bent down to embrace her. “I’ll never forget this day.”

“Wait. So, that’s it? We’ll try running into each other every thirty years, give or take?”

Matty pushed the bangs from her face. “My life is so complicated. I can’t even begin to explain my commitments, my obligations…”

“I understand. But how can you just disappear into the sunset? Don’t you want to see me again? E-mail me? Wait. At least let me
write down my screen name.” She scribbled that and her cellphone number on a napkin.

He reached into his breast pocket. “Good idea. Here’s my card. Definitely keep in touch, and please tell your dad and Roz I wish them well. Oh and Lauren, too.”

Shelby reached for Matty’s hand and looked him straight in the eye. “Do you love her?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

“Okay. Then I guess that’s all I need to know. It’s not for me to question.”

But of course it was exactly what she was doing. Questioning what kind of merciful God would have her reunite with the one person with whom she could spend the rest of her life, only to learn he was married with a sick child? And what the hell did Warner Lamm know about anything? There wasn’t going to be any love in the air!

“I love her. It’s living with her that’s a problem.” Matty sat down again. “We went through a trial separation last year, then decided to give it another try. For Emily’s sake.”

“I may be going out on a limb here,” Shelby blurted, “but how can you be so sure she’s as totally committed to the marriage as you are?”

“Excuse me?”

“The shopping bags Gwen walked in with before. They were empty. That’s a sign, Matty. When women don’t want their husbands to know where they’ve been, they make it look like they’ve just come from the mall.” Somebody had to open his eyes, and it might as well be her.

“That’s what you think?” he asked. “You spent maybe fifteen minutes with my wife and made assumptions about her based on the fact she had nothing in her shopping bags?”

“That, and the way she treats you…”

“Don’t go there.” Matty closed his eyes. “I know where Gwen was this morning. She drove out to Connecticut to visit our daughter at the home we had to place her in a few months ago. Emily was born with Down’s syndrome. She’s severely retarded, has limited mobility, and now a degenerative heart condition. We couldn’t care for her at home anymore. Gwen always bakes muffins and cookies to bring to her and the other children, and she likes to use the big store bag because they hold a lot. That’s why they were empty.”

“Oh my God.” Shelby’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry. I feel so stupid.”

“It’s okay.” He patted her hand. “I know you still love me like a sister. You thought you were looking out for my best interests.”

A sister? That’s how he thought of her? She might as well find a razor blade and her biggest artery.

“But now…seeing you again,” he started.

Hold the razor blade.

“This is such a confusing time in my life..”

“Matty, stop. I feel as though I’ve spent my entire life looking for you, hoping to resume where we left off. Hoping the love we felt as children would somehow endure. But you have a wife and a child, and I’m finally going to have to accept the fact that we were not meant to be together.”

Matty bent over to kiss Shelby firmly on the lips, and the electrical impulses that surged through her body nearly melted what little resistance she had left. She kissed him back so passionately, the blood rushed to her face and her panties felt moist. When they finally separated, she was breathless and limp. “Why did you do that?” she cried.

“I’m sorry. I just had to know.”

“Know what? That I still love you? That I’ve always loved you? That not a day has gone by that I didn’t think of you and wonder where you were?”

“All of the above.” He cupped her face in his warm hands.

“That was too good. It’s just not fair!” She sobbed into his chest. “I’ve never found anyone else I cared for as much as you…”

“Shhh.” He held her tightly.

“What are we going to do?” Shelby looked in his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Shelby, if you’re asking me would I love to run away with you and live happily ever after, the answer is yes. But if you’re asking me if I will…the answer is no. Nothing in my life has ever worked out the way I hoped or planned, but it’s still my life. I’m just playing the cards I was dealt.”