Fate and Ms. Fortune (23 page)

But I also knew that Patti, the Agenda Queen, had called back to say it would be fine if Sheila was there temporarily, as long as she was willing to help with the three Cs: cooking, cleaning, and carpooling.

Meanwhile, with my mother still circling like a flight at JFK, I just hadn’t felt comedic enough to even try an open-mic night. Until Dante called and said we were going to go on at a new club on the Lower East Side called Busted.

It was an unusual venue in that it was housed in a former police station, and audiences voted which acts were so bad, the
comics had to serve time in a slammer. But a gig was a gig, and this one even paid. Only hitch was that the owner expected you to bring your own entourage.

Good-hearted Josh had volunteered to come as a reward for me having gone out with him. And now if I could get Julia to come, she could not only whistle through her teeth, but reminisce with him and hopefully keep him occupied.

“Fine, I’ll go,” she said. “But I’m only doing this for you…So he’s really sexy now?”

“Well, don’t come expecting Antonio Banderas, but yeah, he’s got that certain look.”

“I don’t know why he’d even want to talk to me. You’re forgetting I’m the one who used to tape Twinkies to his locker.”

“I didn’t forget. Just bring your checkbook. You might have to reimburse him for therapy.”

“Haha…so who else is coming?”

“Rachel if she can get her nanny to switch her night off, a few people from work maybe…”

“Did you ask Ken?”

“Who?”

“Oh God. He hasn’t called you yet?”

“Nope.”

“He sucks! But better to find out they’re dirtbags before you’ve had sex.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’re over him?”

“Totally.” I cleared my throat.

“Then why are you doing that throat thing you do when you’re lying?”

“Because I can’t get him out of my head, okay? Julia, he’s everything I want.”

“Except a decent human being who knows how to express sincere gratitude.”

“It’s just an act. He can be very nice. You should have seen him at this funeral we were at.”

“Oh please. Everyone’s nice at a funeral.”

“No, it was more than that. Everyone from work was there and they were so happy to see him, and then this one chick started crying because he looked like his old self again and this other lady kept saying to me, ‘He’s such a sweetheart, isn’t he?’”

“Fine. He’s a big hit at work. But take off the blinders, babe. He’s trying to piss you off so you don’t get any ideas.”

“Too late. I have more ideas than a Google search. And there’s something else, and don’t laugh. I think maybe it’s fate that we were brought together now.”

“Good old fate. The single girl’s number one defense…It was so meant to be…”

“I mean it. We’ve got this whole history together and his friend who died keeps sending me signs to stick around.”

“You want signs? I’ll buy a billboard on Broadway. ‘Wake up Robyn. He’s using you.’…Just let me come up with something to get back at him and you’ll feel a hundred percent better.”

Little did I know Julia would move so fast.

I had started to do this bit in my routine where I brought my cell phone up on stage, and if it rang, I took the call, then milked it for everything it was worth.

One time it was a wrong number, and the poor kid who thought he was ordering in Chinese couldn’t understand why I recommended the house special, Sum Dum Fuck. I got huge laughs, and the best part was that the routine was all off the cuff, eliminating the need for memorization.

So you bet I brought my cell up on stage with me that night at Busted. And to make sure it rang, I made Josh the setup man. He would wait four minutes, then call. Only when I
looked out, I saw that he and Julia seemed wrapped up in more than just conversation.

Yoo hoo? Up here. Remember me? Josh, stop touching her…Julia…don’t toy with him. It’ll be the worst sex you ever had…

“Yeah, so, how does it feel knowing your tax dollars are paying for all these scientific studies trying to prove that men and women are hardwired differently…Really? Because unless some fat-ass professor in Kansas with patches on his jacket can prove it, I’m thinking, what differences? You, sir. The guy with the Hooters shirt…did you bring one for me, because I would be so proud to wear it? [turns to crowd] Jesus loves him, but everyone else thinks he’s an asshole…

“Look, it’s simple. We are different. To make a girl happy, compliment her, encourage her, laugh with her, cry with her, hold her, smile at her…And to make a man happy? Show up naked, bring food. Don’t block the TV. [audience applauds]

“Quick. What’s the difference between a girlfriend and a wife? Forty-five pounds. What’s the difference between a boyfriend and a husband? Forty-five minutes. [laughter]

“But here’s the biggest difference. Men are the happier species. Wanna know why? The garage is all theirs. Wedding plans just take care of themselves. Chocolate is just another snack. They can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. Car mechanics don’t lie to them. One mood, all day long…[heckler: Underwear is six bucks for a three-pack!] Exactly!” I clapped.

It was great. The crowd was eating it up. Then my cell rang, right on cue.
Nice work, Josh.

“Sorry. Hold on. Let me just see who this is.” I put it on speaker phone. “I’ve been waiting for the results of my eye test and I forgot to study…Hello?”

“Robyn?” A man says.

“Yes?”

“Hi…It’s, um…Ken.”

“Ken?” I give the audience a look that says, Oh, this is going
to be good…Now, of course, I’m thinking that Josh and Julia, bless their hearts, set him up for revenge and I’m so happy.

“Nice to hear from you, Ken. Been a while…I wondered what happened to you because after you had your accident and I took care of you, babysat your dog, ran your errands, took you to a funeral, drove you to Jersey so you could see a dentist, put you up at my parents’ house…Call me crazy…but I thought you might call.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“No, but really. It’s fine. I like dating inconsiderate assholes. Good for character building. Plus it gave me time to think about converting to Catholicism and becoming a nun.”

“Robyn…stop. Please.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t tease. But it’s funny. I was just sitting around and saying how—”

“Robyn! My father died.”

“What?” I gasped, but not as loud as the crowd. “Oh my God. When?”

“Yesterday…He played eighteen holes in the hot sun…on all this medication…drowsy…fell asleep at the wheel…maybe if the ambulance got there sooner…”

Talk about dead silence.

W
HAT A NIGHTMARE
to go from feeling the crowd’s love to feeling they would stone me if they ever saw my face in public again. Didn’t matter that I was as taken by surprise as them, I still wanted to crawl into one of those tiny golf holes.

As for Ken’s reaction, he sounded so numb, I’m not sure he realized his voice had been piped through the club’s sound system. Thank God. For if he knew that I had just ridiculed him in front of a live audience, there would be no forgiving me.

Still, when he asked me to attend the funeral and to please bring my parents, I felt so guilty, I was tempted to confess so that he at least had the option to rescind the offer, then changed my mind for both our sakes. There would be plenty of time to hate me afterward.

But imagine my angst on the way to Long Island the next afternoon. What if Ken had somehow figured out that our private conversation wasn’t very private? What would I say to Seth and Madeline if Ken told them about my mean trick? How would Ken’s mother react to seeing my mother? More
important, after three weeks apart, how would my
father
react to seeing my mother? I really wish I smoked.

“What are you going to say to Daddy when you see him?” I asked Sheil in the car.

“What do you mean what am I going to say? I’ll say hello.”

“I know that…but are you going to be nice to him?”

“Of course I’ll be nice. I’m always nice…but I don’t want to discuss this. Next subject.”

“Fine…Do you remember the name of that psychic you went to?”

“Why do you keep hocking me about this? It was a hundred years ago…Oy, I always get so
farmisht
when I have to come back to the South Shore…it must be mental. Are you paying attention? We want Peninsula Boulevard.”

“I’m paying attention. The last sign said Valley Stream.”

The good thing about my mother being behind the wheel was that I didn’t have to listen to her wisecrack remarks that I was a great driver except for starting and stopping. The bad thing about her driving was that for someone who was married all these years to a guy who loved maps, she couldn’t even open one, let alone read it. She was forever getting lost.

“I just was curious if you remembered her name.” I read the directions again.

“Why?”

“Because I had a reading with a psychic, and I was just thinking how weird it would be if it was the same person.”

“You think there’s only one in New York? Today there’s one on every block…And what do you gotta see a psychic for? You want to know your future? I’ll tell you your future. Get married again. Have a few kids. Learn how to bake. You’ll live happily ever after.”

“That’s your key to true happiness? Get married? Have a cookie.”

“Helen something Polish.”

“What?”

“The psychic…it’s coming back to me. She gave me a little tape when we were done and she wrote her name on it…But she was an old lady back then, and that was twenty years ago. She wouldn’t still be at it today.”

“What else do you remember?”

“Not much. I was in a bad mental state and her little granddaughter kept interrupting…I think maybe she had the gift too, because instead of the old lady telling her to go play in traffic, she listened to whatever the kid said. And now that I think of it, she did say one interesting thing.

“She said, ‘Don’t you get it, lady? Your baby is safe. He’s with God now. You don’t have to worry about him no more.’”

“Pretty profound for a child.”

“I didn’t think so then, but I guess it must have sunk in because see? That I remembered.”

“It’s funny that she said, ‘Don’t you get it, lady?’ The one I went to kept using the same exact expression…they must teach it at psychic school.”

And here is what they must teach at the Jewish funeral school. When mourners arrive, make sure there are two goons in dark suits stationed by the door to the chapel looking somber, as if they were close, personal friends of the deceased. Then have them ask everyone to sign the guest book, and wait quietly in the hall until the immediate family is ready to receive them in the parlor.

That’s why I was surprised to see Seth and Madeline greeting everyone at the entrance like anxious hosts. Had an overwhelmed mom sent them out to play until company came?

I surprised them back by tripping over Seth’s foot and
knocking over the little basket of yarmulkes. Then, as I scooped them up, it was Sheil’s turn. She introduced herself to him and started sobbing in his arms. How wonderful to see Todd’s first playmate looking so grown up and handsome. How tragic that her son had never reached this stage. Oh, the injustice of it all.

After that masterful entrance, I didn’t expect Madeline to squeeze my hand and thank me for coming. Or tell me that she and Seth had to talk Kenny out of asking Mira Darryl because they thought with her being a big celebrity she would make too much of a scene, and now that everyone knew we grew up together, it just made more sense to ask me.

Thank you for sharing. It’s every girl’s dream to be first runner-up.

“If you want, I’ll sneak you in now so you can have a few minutes alone.” She sniffed.

“How is he?”

“A total mess…Robyn, we are all in such shock.”

“I know…He was just telling me how great his dad was doing.”

“It’s so sad…Now we have to change the baby’s name to begin with an H, and we had one all picked out we really liked and H is so hard. We were thinking maybe Harlan or Hershel, but oh my God, I just love the name Montgomery. Don’t you?”

Are you serious? Your father-in-law drops dead and your biggest concern is that you have to name your son in his memory?

“It’s a great name. Oh look,” I said. “My dad just got here…We’ll talk later. I am so sorry for your loss.”
And your stupidity.

I was glad I spotted him before my mother, who had managed to compose herself and reunite with what looked like former neighbors from Oceanside.

“Daddy, you don’t look so good.” I kissed him. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be honest,” he said. “I’m not feeling great…the traffic was unbelievable…and being here? So hard.”

“I know.” I hugged him. “Mommy broke down when she saw Seth…”

“…This is where we would have had Todd’s funeral…if we’d have found the body in time.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah…you think there’s someplace I can get a little nosh? I’m feeling kind of—”

And with that he collapsed.

Say what you will about the Holtzes. We sure know how to get a funeral started.

Fortunately, my dad was fine after drinking some orange juice, getting a little fresh air and a hug from my mom. She, of course, accused him of fainting to get her attention, but I could tell she was concerned, as his last fainting spell was followed by his first heart attack. That would not look good on her permanent record.

More important, the two walked into the parlor together to express their condolences to the family. I learned later that Judy had been holding up beautifully until then, but upon seeing her dear friends from her young married days, she cried uncontrollably.

As for seeing Ken, I was so stunned by his haggard face and still broken body, I nearly forgot that he had good reason to be even more angry with me than I was with him.

But at least for that moment there was no ill will, just the need for him to hold someone who cared and be able to cry without shame.

He introduced me to his mother, who kissed me and said she was so happy to meet me and of course she always knew I’d be pretty, but not this pretty. I loved her.

Ken and I were only able to chat briefly, as a roomful of people were there to pay their respects. But I at least got a mo
ment to ask about Rookie and if he thought it would ever be possible for us to spend time doing something other than going to hospitals and funerals. Thank God he laughed.

For the second time in as many weeks that I was at a funeral, I could not focus on the rabbi’s words, meaningful as I’m sure they were. For every time the chapel doors opened, I had to turn to see if Mira Darryl had showed up uninvited.

But mostly my attention was directed to my parents, who were seated next to me and wept quietly in the name of all that was lost. A baby son. A beloved old friend. A marriage.

Though they hadn’t exchanged a single cross word, to me it was a sign it was all over except for the lawyers. For if it was business as usual, the insults, the criticisms, and the what’s-the-matter-with-you accusations would have been argued in rapid succession.

As they wiped their eyes, I sensed that the last vestige of their bond was grief, and it could no longer sustain them. Too many years and too many tears had chipped away at their marital bridge, so now all that remained was a worn foundation and a thin layer of love. The time had come to look for new crossings.

I don’t know how I held it together myself, but I did. Until Ken and Seth approached the podium and shifted the microphone. Before they could utter a word, my hands were wet with tears.

The prospect of losing your father as these boys had, or your mother, as Josh had, was unimaginable. I wondered how a child of any age carried on without the unconditional love and support that had been a driving force from their first moment of life.

Seth, the elder statesman now, spoke first. “I’ve heard it said that a funeral is the one place you don’t want to have a front-row seat. So true.”

To his credit, he was eloquent and funny and shared such wonderful memories, I felt as though I knew his father well, and it was my great loss that I had never had the privilege.

Then it was Ken’s turn. At first there was a slight crackle to his voice as he swayed like a skyscraper on a gusty day. Yet somehow he maintained his composure. Even cracked a joke about having to clean out the garage, along with everyone else’s on the block, as punishment for driving his dad’s car before he had his license…four years before he had his license.

Everyone laughed and it seemed to propel him, until realization hit. This wasn’t a speech at an industry seminar. He was speaking at his beloved father’s funeral.

It started as a sniffling and a pause. Seth slapped his back, the he-man gesture to tough it out. But the levee was breached and the tears had to flow. And rather than allow this drama to unfold, Mama Bear popped up, said a few quiet words to her son, and said, “Now go sit down. There isn’t a soul here who doesn’t know how much you loved and worshipped your father.”

“But you let Seth talk,” he whined.

“We love you, Kenny,” an old woman yelled. “But listen to your mother.”

Wow, even funerals had hecklers now. But he took the woman’s advice and sat down.

“I wasn’t planning to speak.” Judy repositioned the microphone, as her tiny frame squeezed between her strapping sons. “I didn’t think I could…but I’ve changed my mind…I know Howie would feel slighted if I didn’t share with you the things that only a wife would know…In fact, this is vintage Howie. When he first got the cancer diagnosis, he sat down and wrote his own eulogy…he said he wanted to make sure we didn’t forget anything…

“My husband was an extraordinary man. Kind, generous, thoughtful, and no one made me laugh as much as him…And
I’m not just saying that because I know he can hear me…In fact, honey, where did you leave the key to the shed?” She looked up. “You never took out my bike like I asked and it’s going to be a beautiful week.”

Of all the anecdotes Judy shared, my favorite was about Howie’s love of music. When he found a CD he enjoyed, he’d buy extra copies to give to her, Ken, Seth, and Madeline. Judy complained it was a waste of money to have duplicate collections, but he never wanted her to have to wait to hear a beautiful song. “Of course he had no problem with me waiting to get into the bathroom in the morning.”

I was in awe of this tiny wisp of a woman who was better at doing stand-up than some veteran comics I’d seen perform, no less at her own husband’s funeral. But it wasn’t only her humor that moved me, it was the proof that two people could share a lifetime of happiness.

“It is so fitting that only last week, Howie added to my collection with a new CD by this young girl from Long Island, Alex something or other. Anyway, I reminded him that I already had more music than I could listen to in a lifetime and to please not waste the money, and like usual, he ignored me and told me to listen to this one song called ‘Before the Last Dance.’

“Well, it took me a few days and wouldn’t you know it? I finally listened to it Wednesday morning when I was out walking the dog…only a few short hours before Howie passed away…You have to hear the words…It so happens I brought them along.”

“Now if those words don’t sum up my husband”—Judy wiped her eyes—“nothing will. No matter what his problems, Howie believed that the only way to make his troubles seem smaller was to give back and help others. And that’s what he did. He gave his time, his money, his love, his guidance…every day of his beautiful life.”

When she finished I looked around, for as a stand-up, it was an automatic reflex to study crowd reaction. And no surprise, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.