Cosmo's Deli (14 page)

“You didn't do anything. It's him. Not you.”

“Who's going to want me now, Renny? Me and two kids.”

Renny knows it's hard enough to find someone the first time around without kids. But, that's not the information her friend needs right now. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. You're beautiful and smart. Bart's a fool.”

Sara winces and rubs her belly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think the baby's taken up kickboxing. It just got me in the ribs.” She puts down her cup. The phone rings.

“Cosmo's Deli,” Mendelbaum booms in Renny's ear after she answers.

“Not now Mendelbaum.” Renny says.

“I need—”

Renny hangs up before he can get going.

Sara leans up. “It's late. I should go.”

“Don't go. Why don't you stay over tonight?”

“I need to get Megan home. I'll be okay. I left my car at Bart's parents' building.”

“I'll come with you.”

“You don't have to do that. Just walk me down.” Sara stands, looking small, like a child who's accidentally wandered away from its mother in a department store.

“Okay,” Renny says.

***

Out on the street Renny and Sara link arms and walk to the corner at 79th Street. Renny's thoughts churn. How could Bart have left her? They have a kid, and she's pregnant. Statistics show that marriages break-up all the time, but as Renny clings to the arm of her statistic, she wishes it weren't so. Suddenly, her thoughts shift from Sara to Val. When she'd heard about Val's philandering husband, she'd taken guilty pleasure in her bosses suffering. With the cuckolding hitting closer to home, shame washes over Renny, as she views Val's pain from a different angle. “You sure you don't need me to come with you?” Renny asks.

“I'll be okay.” Sara takes a last look at the building across the street and then throws her hand out to wave down a cab, like a white flag signaling defeat.

A taxi screeches to a halt in front of them.

Renny hugs her. “Call me when you get home.”

“Okay. And Renny, thanks.”

“We're friends, you don't have to thank me.”

“I know.” Sara gets in the cab.

She watches the taxi pull away. “God, men are such shits.”

“Present company excluded I hope.”

Renny whirls around and finds Georgie's smiling face.

“Hey there sexy.”

“Hey yourself.” Her voice holds a hint of “Marilyn” breathlessness. He pulls her back on the sidewalk and into his arms, landing a kiss on her lips that says ‘I missed you.' Her knees buckle and she sinks into him. They make out, oblivious to the people walking by on the street.

A commuter yells out, “Get a room.” Their kisses dissolve into laughter.

Georgie whispers in her ear, “Great idea. Let's go up to your apartment.”

“What makes you think I'm such a sure thing?”

“Shit, I better go then.” He playfully pulls away.

Renny tugs him back, planting a kiss of her own on him. “Let's go upstairs.”

“That's an original idea.”

Renny feels intoxicated as they enter her building.

“So who was that in the cab?” Georgie asks.

“Huh?” Her mind orbits back to earth. “Oh, that was my friend, Sara. It's awful. Her husband left her a few weeks ago and she's about to have a baby. She found out today that he's been cheating on her.”

“That sucks. Hey, did you catch my show at all?”

Renny scrunches her face, having expected more of a response than ‘that sucks.' That's what you say when you realize McDonald's forgot the fries with your combo. Georgie kisses her, his tongue performing amazing feats in her mouth and seducing her into hitting the snooze on her internal alarm. After all, Georgie doesn't even know Sara.

“Did you listen?” he asks again.

“Yeah,” Renny lies. “It was cool.”

Georgie nods and they walk into the elevator. As the doors close an anonymous arm suddenly intervenes and Jeff slides his way in. He lights up at the sight of Renny, oblivious to Georgie. “Great timing. Are you just getting back from work? I was thinking about dinner Thursday. I'm thinking Cuban now instead of Thai. I had Thai for lunch today. Do you mind?”

Renny catches Georgie's expectant gaze and knows she has to introduce them. “Jeff, I want you to meet Georgie. Georgie this is my neighbor Jeff, he, uh, lives across the hall.”

Georgie takes her hand and swings it playfully. “Nice to you meet you, man.”

Renny feels like he's urinated a territorial circle around her. From the hurt creeping over Jeff's face, she knows he does too.

Georgie puts out his hand and they shake, but Jeff quickly recoils. Whiffing the repugnance Jeff's cast into the air, Georgie sets his shoulders back. The ding of the elevator signals their arrival and Renny quickly steps out to escape the display of machismo.

Jeff follows, trying to angle in next to Renny, only to find Georgie cemented between them. He makes a stab at conversation. “So, Georgie, what do you do?”

Georgie drips with arrogance. “I host the morning show on Q92.7. Maybe you've heard us, it's Georgie and Rockin' Ron's Jungle.”

“No, I don't have time for that. I watch CNBC or the news in the morning.”

“And what do you do? Let me guess, you're a stock broker or a lawyer, right?”

Jeff smirks. “I started a company called NewApproach. We do web designs. Maybe you saw us last month in
Magnate
? We were listed as a top thirty company to watch.”

“I don't read
Magnate
.”

“I guess it's not really your speed, no chicks in bathing suits.” Jeff turns to Renny. “I'll talk to you later,” his tone turns sharp, “neighbor.” He whisks into his apartment, leaving only the echo of his slammed door.

Inside her apartment, Georgie asks, “So, who was that guy? Old boyfriend, right?”

“No, it's not like that. He's a friend. He's really a great guy once you get to know him.”

“I'll pass. It's obvious he's hung up on you.”

“He's like a brother to me.”

Georgie takes her hand. “Now you're making me feel sorry for the poor bastard. That description is the kiss of death when a guy is looking for more than a handshake good night. I think Jeffie wants to be feeling more than these fingers in his hands.”

Shivers run through her as he caresses each fingertip with his lips. The tension that built up in the hallway evaporates as his tongue dips and curves over the grooves of her hands, revealing errogenous zones she didn't know existed. “How about a drink?” he suggests, dropping her hand.

“Sure.” Renny rouses herself from their exchange like a teenager whose parents just walked in. “What would you like?”

“I'd love a beer, for now.” He winks and heads to the living room couch.

In the kitchen Renny tosses her coat off on the counter, noticing the blink-blink of her answering machine. She hits the play button while pulling two beers out of the fridge.

“Hello, Cosmo's Deli?” Mendelbaum begins. Renny hits erase before he gets going. He must eat all day long, Renny muses, while popping the tops of the bottles. Maybe, I should change my number like Jeff said.

The second message starts, but Renny doesn't recognize the voice. “It's Marty Toezoff. Your mother gave my aunt your number.”

“Shit.” Renny lunges for the volume button and knocks over one of the beer bottles. “Shit, shit, shit.” Mopping up the spill, she leans close to the machine. “Anyway, I'm sorry I missed you, but I'll try and call you tomorrow. I'd love to meet you. My aunt says great things about you. Maybe Saturday night. My friends are having a party. I'd love for you to come. I'll call you again tomorrow.”

“Tell him you have plans,” Georgie whispers in her ear, slipping an arm around her waist.

“You heard all that? God, I'm gonna kill my mother.” If she doesn't die from cancer, Renny thinks. Her mind goes into a metronomic chant, she's not going to die, she's not going to die.

Georgie plants a kiss on her lips and shrugs. “Just tell him you already have plans, with me.”

Renny forces her thoughts about her mother aside. “What are these plans?”

“You're going with me to the station party at Meltdown. Mourning Breath is playing. They're a great band.” Georgie takes a swig from the one beer left standing.

“You're asking me as your date?”

“You're a bit scrawny to be my bodyguard, so yeah, as my date.”

What about Tawney, Renny thinks, struggling to banish the thought from her mind.

Georgie kids her, “Don't tell me. You don't have anything to wear?”

In a moment of lunacy, Renny sends her thought out into the world unedited. “Will Tawney be there too?”

Georgie stiffens in her arms. “What do you know about Tawney?”

Renny wishes she could rip her tongue out to stop the honesty madness. “Just the basics, she's a supermodel, beautiful, successful and that you two are, were, practically engaged.”

He toys with a strand of her hair. “We were together for a while, but we were never engaged.”

“That's comforting.”

“She might be there Saturday night.”

“Oh, okay.” Renny chokes trying to swallow his noncommittal answers.

“It doesn't matter anyway. Do you think all the people linked in the media are actually together? Most of the time it's bullshit. We dated for a while, but then we were friends. Most of it was just a way to get our picture in the papers. She's not even that pretty.”

Renny pinches him. “Okay, now I know you're full of shit. She's pretty, you have to be honest about that.”

“Yeah, okay, she's pretty.” Georgie pulls Renny close, “But you're beautiful.”

If he means all he says, it's the jackpot, Renny's insides explode! Even her mother would love him.

“So do you think you can peel yourself away from those other guys and go with me to the party?” he asks.

Renny decides to be coy and grab some of the yank in this budding relationship. “I'll have to think about it.”

Georgie picks up the sexually charged gauntlet she's laid down and kisses her neck, pressing up against her.

“You missed a spot.” She points to where her shirt buttons join.

He works his way to the buttons and his hand glides under her shirt, bringing her nipples to attention. The stubble on his face rubs against her chest, exciting her. “So what do you think?” he whispers.

“I think,” she catches her breath. “I'd love to come with you, um, I mean go with you.”

“I think we can manage both.” He lifts her up and carries her into the bedroom.

That's when Renny finds out he is toe-curling right.

***

The phone rings, rousing Renny from a deep sleep. She rolls over and sees Georgie asleep beside her. Her hand fumbles for the phone in the darkness. “Hello.”

“Renny?” Gaby's voice squeaks.

“Yeah?”

Gaby breaks down crying.

Renny rubs her eyes and checks the clock. “Gaby, it's two in the morning. What's wrong?”

“I nee, nee, nee.” Her voice trails off.

“Calm down, I don't understand what you're saying.” Renny feels Georgie turn over.

“Come, come, come over.”

“Now?”

“P, p, please.”

Renny knows she has no choice. “I'll be there in a half hour. Try to calm down.” She hangs up the phone.

Georgie leans up. “Who the hell was that?”

“My friend. She's a mess right now. I've got to go to her apartment.” Renny starts to get up.

Georgie grabs her hand. “Come on, she'll be alright. Let her call her husband. Come back to bed.”

“It's a different friend.”

“Shit, are they all fucked up? You need new friends. Like me. I'm feeling very friendly right now.” He pulls her down and shows her the hardening friend between his legs.

Renny wants nothing more than to stay, but Gaby's tears eat at her. “I can't, Georgie.”

He shifts on top of her and kisses her neck. “If it's guy trouble I'll set her up with one of my friends.”

“It's more complicated than that. I've got to go. You should go back to sleep. I'll try to make it back before you have to leave.”

Georgie rolls off.

Reluctantly, Renny goes into the bathroom to brush her teeth and throw on sweats. When she comes out she is disappointed to find that Georgie is dressed too. “You didn't have to get up. You could have let yourself out later.” Renny liked the idea of him hanging out in her apartment while she was gone.

“I need to take a shower before I go to the station.” He puts on his shoes.

Renny walks up close. “She's my friend. I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, whatever. It's not a big deal. If you're ready, we can walk down together,” he says standing.

“Sure.” She quickly slings her backpack over one shoulder.

Standing in the hall by the elevator Renny looks up at him, unable to conceal the uncertainty and hopefulness she feels.

Suddenly he pulls her close. “Thanks for inviting me up.”

They kiss and Renny clings to him, willing her insecurity away. Maybe things will work out, she thinks. Like Lucy said, they have to work out for someone. Renny wraps her arms around his neck and crosses her fingers, something she hasn't done since she was twelve and praying for a pair of blue suede clogs for her birthday. Instead of the clogs, her parents bought her another pair of penny loafers from Thom McCann's.

Renny quickly uncrosses her fingers.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Renny finds the door to her friend's apartment ajar and gently pushes it open. “Gaby?”

“In, in here,” Gaby calls.

A trail of crumpled tissues along the floor leads Renny to the living room, where Gaby is laid out on the couch partially covered by a blanket, with a box of tissues tucked under her arm. Her eyes and nose are red and swollen. “Wow, you look like shit,” Renny declares.

She blows her nose loudly. “Thanks.”

Renny glances around the apartment. It's as if Madison Avenue has exploded, leaving a mint's worth of merchandise scattered all over the living room. “You've been busy. This stuff must have cost a fortune.”

Gaby dissolves into tears. “I can't control it. I think I can and then I just buy more. I don't know what's happening with me anymore. Everything I touch turns to shit. There's something wrong with me. Am I defective?”

Renny sits with her. “You've had a lot of bad things happen, but it's not you. And it doesn't mean you're defective.”

Gaby grabs a cream colored dress that lay crumpled on the coffee table. “Do you see this?” She frantically searches the fabric until she finds the big red blotch spattered across the front. Her knuckles are white as she clutches it.

For a queazy moment, Renny assumes it to be blood.

“Fucking red wine on my cashmere dress. Mama bought me this the last time she came to New York. I was just trying it on, to see how it looks and all I took is one sip of wine, just one sip. And look! Look what I did.”

“The cleaners will get it out.”

Renny wonders if she is glimpsing of her future. If her own mother is diagnosed with cancer will she cling so desperately to the last items she gave her? Will that last case of generic toilet paper from Costco become a shrine to be wept over?

Gaby collapses on the couch and wails, “I ruined it trying to clean it myself. I tore it. See, see.”

Taking the dress, Renny is reminded of a child who hands over their broken toy to a grown-up for a miraculous fix. But it's more than the dress that is ripped apart. Placing it on the table, Renny takes Gaby's hands. “Maybe it's time you talked to someone. I think it would help you.”

Blowing her nose Gaby waxes ironic as she confesses, “I started seeing a shrink over a month ago. Don't I seem better? Lil' Fucker! He's on vacation for two weeks. Another person gone when I need 'em. First Mama, then Stan. Don't leave me too Renny, please. You're my friend, right?”

Renny holds on tight, trying to provide her shaken friend with a lifeline. “I'm not going anywhere. Why didn't you tell me you started seeing someone?”

“I was embarrassed.”

“Gaby, come on. Therapy today is practically a birthright.”

“Not with my family. Mama used to tell Millie and I, that going to a psychiatrist was like flushing good money down the toilet. Might as well just take it and throw it out a window to strangers. ‘Now that'd help people,' she'd say. Mama's probably up in heaven pitching a good ‘ole fit about me being in therapy.”

“If it's helping you, I'm sure she would be glad that you're going.”

“Mama always liked you,” Gaby says. “She liked Stan, too.”

“Gaby, your mother didn't really know Stan. He was a jerk and that's why you dumped him to begin with. He wasn't good for you.”

“Maybe I wasn't good enough for him.” Gaby waves at the answering machine, appearing exhausted by the brief movement. “Play it.”

Without questioning Renny hits the message button and is startled when Stan's blunt voice fills the dim living room, drowning out Gaby's sniffles. “Hey Gab, it's me. I bet you're surprised to hear my voice. I want to talk to you, so if you get a chance, give me a call. I moved last week, so just try me at work, that number's the same. We need to talk. Call me.”

“Did you call him?” Renny asks.

Gaby shakes her head. “No, I couldn't bring myself to. I just about shit when I heard it. What do you think he wants?”

“I don't know, but I don't think you should call him.”

“I hear what you're sayin'. But, did you hear the way he said ‘call me'? Like it's an order. Did you hear that?” With a yearning in her voice she asks, “Do you think he wants to get back together?”

“I don't know and what if he does? You don't want that, do you?”

“No, I don't think so. I don't know.” Gaby breathes in and her entire body shudders from the effort. “Part of me still wants to call him up so badly, just to know that he wants me back.”

“I'm telling you just erase the message.”

“I know you're right. Lord, my head is killing me,” Gaby moans. “Do me a favor. In my room on the nightstand there's a prescription bottle. Could you bring it over?”

“Sure.” Grabbing the bottle from the bedroom Renny is surprised to read it contains Valium. Leaving the room, she notices the mosaic grandfather clock in the corner. That must have cost a bundle, she thinks.

Renny hands the pills to Gaby. “Why are you taking these?”

“The shrink prescribed them. They take the edge off when I get like this.” Gaby pops one in her mouth and washes it down with the last drops of wine left in her glass.

“You're not allowed to drink with those,” Renny warns. “Didn't you read the bottle?”

Gaby shrugs her off. “It's no big deal. It's about a quarter of a glass, but I could do with a splash more. Will you grab the bottle that's in the fridge?”

Renny reluctantly goes into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator, finding its contents pathetic. A lone Chinese food container sits centered on the top shelf, its only companions a couple of Diet Coke cans and a corked bottle of red wine. Her stomach grumbles. “How old is the Chinese food?”

“Last night and its Thai food,” Gaby calls out.

“Do you mind if I eat it?”

“Go right ahead.”

Renny reaches for the wine, but instead grabs the sodas.

“Here.” She hands Gaby a can.

“Diet Coke?” Gaby raises an eyebrow.

“It said no alcohol on those pills and if you're going to drag me out of a warm bed in the middle of the night to be a good friend, than that's what you're going to get. No one O.D.'s on my watch.”

Gaby quickly takes a second pill from her prescription bottle and clinks her can against Renny's before washing it down. “I'm sorry I fetched you out of bed.”

“It's all right.” Renny slurps in a fork full of cold Chinese noodles. “I wasn't alone you know.”

“Really?”

“Georgie came over tonight.”

“So what do you think?”

“I think too damn much as usual, you know?”

Gaby nods. “You do have a propensity to overanalyze. Shit, since Mama died, I think I have the same affliction. It never used to be like that for me. I was the one who never gave a damn about the rear view.”

Renny wants to tell Gaby about her mother's tests, but as soon as she opens her mouth to speak, she shuts it again. She is afraid it will send Gaby over the edge. She's also fears going off the deep end with her.

Gaby shifts on the couch, her whole body spreading out like ooze. “These little pills are damn good. I wish I had these suckers in our college days.”

They laugh together in a way they haven't in months. Renny is struck by how much she has missed being able to have Gaby really hear her and takes this opportunity to shift the topic from mothers to men. “Do you think it could work out with Georgie? I know we started as a one-night stand, but that doesn't always have to mean we're doomed.”

“What number is he? Seventeen, eighteen?” Gaby sips her soda.

“No way, I haven't slept with that many.”

“Really, I thought you had. What number then?”

“Thirteen,” Renny confesses.

“Oh,” Gaby cringes.

“What? That doesn't mean anything.”

“My number thirteen was hot, passionate and demolishing. Remember Noam?”

“Not really.”

“The Israeli arms dealer?” Gaby says.

Renny winces. “Oh, yeah.”

“Thirteen is unlucky. It'll never work.”

“Just because your thirteen crashed and burned doesn't mean Georgie will.”

“Do you want my opinion or not?”

“Yes,” Renny concedes.

“When he came over tonight, did he call first or just show up?”

“What does it matter?”

Like a host on a game show Gaby speaks the unspoken answer, “He just showed up. Has he asked you out on a real date yet?”

“Saturday night. And it's a very public first date. He's taking me to that big station party after the auction. The one at Meltdown.”

“That's a good sign. What are you fixing to wear?”

“I was thinking the dress I wore to my company Christmas party. You know, the green one with the straps in the back?”

“No, not that one.” Gaby crinkles her nose. “I'm taking you to Mu Mu for a dress.”

“Where?”

“Trust me, only a select few have the privilege of shopping there.”

Renny shakes her head. “I can't go. I have a ton of work to do.”

“We'll go at lunch time and I'm not taking no for an answer. It's the least I can do after dragging your ass out tonight. Let me at least try and be a good friend, too. Okay?”

“Kay.” Renny nods.

“Now, what's up with the girlfriend?” Gaby asks.

“He says it' been over for a while, that they're just friends. I think he's being straight with me.”

“Do you think he's another FA?”

“A Fuck Around?” Renny shakes her head. “I haven't heard those words in a while. When did we come up with that? It has to be at least five years ago.”

“More, we were still living together. And we didn't come up with it. It was in that book Sara was editing for work.”

“Oh yeah.” Renny nods. “That bartender I was dating had just stood me up and Sara was trying to cheer me up.”

“I still remember her standing on the bed and clutching that thing like it was the good book” With a wobbling hand Gaby grabs the
TV Guide
from the coffee table and waves it in the air as Sara had done with the dating book years ago. “The typical womanizer beds and bolts, but the FA sticks around for weeks, lulling its prey into the belief that there is a future. Heartbreak is virtually guaranteed. Typically the inconsequential will trigger rejection. Talk with your hands, laugh at too high of a pitch or cut your hair too short and the FA will flush your number down the crapper.” Gaby's eyes flame at Renny like an evangelist with a habitual sinner. “Avoid them at every turn.”

“How do you remember that?” Renny asks.

She lays back down, clearly exhausted from her efforts. “I bought a copy when it came out. And you didn't answer me. Do you think Georgie is an FA?”

“No way.” Renny shakes her head.

“You don't think so or you don't want to think so? Because you always seem to wind up with them.” Gaby yawns, “It's not like it was a few years ago. Back then if you got involved with a FA it lasted a few weeks and you could get away with calling it a relationship. Now they operate on Internet time like everything else. The whole thing is done in a week instead of a month. You're better off with a one-nighter, at least then you don't get emotionally attached.”

Renny's mind chews on this.

A tear slides down Gaby's cheek. “But I guess you're better off with a FA then a pure mind fuck like Stan was to me. I dumped him, and then he comes back. I take him back and for what? The whole thing, all that sympathy after Mama died, just so in the end he could call me crazy.” She shuts her eyes.

Renny tries to ward off another of Gaby's crying jags. “Hey, remember Jude Parker? Sometimes FA's can change?”

Gaby opens her eyes.

The tale of Jude Parker is every New York City single woman's inspirational bedtime story. The classic FA, Jude was known all over Manhattan and on any given Saturday night he could be found knee deep in women at whatever bar was the place to see and be seen. Everyone loved Jude and wanted to be loved by him, even after the three to four weeks when they left his favor for the inevitable dump.

Then four years ago Jude met Marisa, who relocated to New York from Argentina. An exotic beauty with raven hair and flawless olive skin, she made men drunk listening to the rolling inflections of her words. Marisa wore white in winter and red all summer long, which made her pop against the black background that clothed the rest of Manhattan women. She was working in the men's department at Barney's when Jude came in to do some shopping. She helped him pick out a shirt and shazam, no more FA. They've been married three years, have two kids, a duplex on the Upper East Side and Jude is the happiest MMG—Monogamous Married Guy—anyone ever saw.

“You think Georgie is gonna to turn out to be your Jude?”

“It's possible.” Renny says.

Gaby shifts to her side and pulls a crotchet blanket up to her chin. “So tell me what's going on with Sara? She left me a message the other night, but I didn't get to call her. She didn't sound too good.”

“You sure you want to hear it?”

She closes her eyes. “Yeah, I may doze off though.”

Renny yawns and stretches out on the other half of the couch. “Do you mind if I stick my feet in your blanket, I'm cold?”

“Mmm-mmm.”

Renny slides her legs under the blanket and lies back, by which time Gaby is asleep. Renny closes her eyes, just to rest for a few minutes. Then she'll go home. But her own exhaustion dictates and Renny slips into a dreamless sleep where she is consistently aware of the couch and Gaby's light snoring beside her.