Fate and Ms. Fortune (26 page)

“Of course, everything would have been fine if I’d kept my promise and made sure Mo wasn’t doing anything stupid. But no, I had to be a schmuck and try to get into Jordie’s pants…and look at the price of admission for that fuckup…She loses her dad, who she loved to pieces, they were so close, and I lost Mo…

“Pretty hard to go back to school after that, don’t you think?”

Just as there are twelve steps to recovery and seven phases of mourning, being around the news business, I’d discovered that there were also stages of processing a shocking story.

First, of course, is total disbelief, accompanied by all its subsequent questions. How could anything so awful happen? Where was God? Why do innocent people have to die so violently?

Then comes realization. It doesn’t matter whether you believe that something has just happened, it did, and though the fallout is devastating, denial creates even more victims.

Finally there is resolution and acceptance. It is not for us to question why life unfolds as it does. Our job is to carry on, learn from the experience, do what is in our power to prevent this type of tragedy from reoccurring and somehow regain faith in God and the future.

As Ken stared out the kitchen window, clutching Rookie, clearly in spite of all the time that had passed, and all the therapy money could buy, it appeared that he hadn’t reached this final stage.

How could there be resolution when guilt and remorse were still on board the pain train? The only reason I recognized the symptoms was because I’d been an eyewitness to a similar fate. By outward appearances my dad, like Ken, had carried on after facing great tragedy, but he too had managed to sidestep the path to forgiveness.

What I did not know, nor did any other living soul, was that Ken was doubly burdened.

“Want to hear another good story?” he asked.

We had moved out to the terrace, as it was sunny with a cool breeze. I had hoped the fresh air and change of scenery would brighten his mood, but from his grim look, not yet.

“How about we recover from the first one first?”

“But I’m on a roll now…and this one’s short.”

“Is it helping…talking about it?”

“Not sure. Maybe. I never realized what a good listener Rookie was.” He kissed him.

“Go figure.” I laughed, elated that he had made a joke.

“And you’re pretty amazing yourself.” He stared at me. “I don’t know why, but I’ve never felt this comfortable talking to a stranger.”

“I’m not a stranger.” I smiled. “We’ve known each other our whole lives.”

“Good point…Anyway, I was thinking I would tell you about the day Larry died.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. The only thing I’m sure about is that my dad wanted me to talk about it…I never told him the truth, I never told anyone, but he knew there was more to the story…Who knows. Maybe he can hear me…”

“I believe he can.”

Ken pulled a blanket over him and Rookie. “On the morning of September eleventh, Larry was at his desk at Cantor Fitzgerald, already working the phones. Except he wasn’t supposed to be there…he was supposed to be with me. We had made plans a few days before to meet for breakfast because he had some great news to tell me and he wanted to do it in person.

“I had a feeling I knew what it was…He’d been dating this girl, Michelle, and I’m sure he was going to tell me he was going to propose…But hey. I’ll never know because, great friend that I am, I canceled on him the night before. Just blew him off. Made up some bullshit excuse about some last-minute meeting I had to go to. Only the truth was, a guy from the office needed a sub for an early racquetball game and I said, What the hell? I can see Larry any time…”

I held him until the tears stopped, though I doubted that either the confession or the embrace had liberated his soul, for guilt was a merciless jailer that did not take kindly to redemption. Only when a prisoner insisted on freedom did a key magically unlock the cell.

G
IVEN HIS DESPONDENCE,
I was afraid to leave Ken for even a few hours. But what’s a girl to do when she needs clean clothes? Then it hit me that good-neighbor Josh could come to my aid.

Luckily he was too wealthy to need work, giving him ample free time to break into my apartment, only to discover Sheil had left the back door open when she went out to smoke. But no time to dwell. I had to conduct a virtual tour of my drawers and medicine chest so he could pack a bag, while reminding him my bra size and panty choices were not acceptable discussion points.

“Thanks for coming.” I hugged him. “You’re a lifesaver. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Sure. Where is he?”

“Out on the terrace…He hasn’t moved in like two hours.”

“What happened?”

“Basically he divulged some deep, dark secrets…I felt like Barbra Streisand in
Prince of Tides
…only she played a professional. All I could really do was listen.”

“I’m sure that’s what he needed the most…what can I do?”

“I don’t know. I guess just go out there and hang with him.”

“Does he know you called me?”

“I told him, but who knows if it registered? He hasn’t answered his phone all morning, he hasn’t eaten anything…”

“Been there…the total mess stage…Okay, I’ll just sit with him. See if he feels like talking.”

“You’re the best.” I kissed him.

“That’s what all the girls say. Until I ask them out.”

“Hey. C’mon. Don’t do this.”

“Fine. But before I go out there, will you at least tell me if you two—”

“—hooked up?”

“Just curious.”

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s a name for what we have…It’s not your normal boy-meets-girl, boy-screws-everything-up relationship…”

“But you like him?”

“A lot.” I smiled. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. I could definitely see you together. You’re both funny and smart and look how much history you have.”

“Um, hello. I could say the same about you and Julia…I saw what you two were doing at Busted the other night. And then you asked her to come to the shivah with you yesterday.”

“A shocker, right? Someone finds me irresistible.”

“Well, just be careful. We both know her entire playbook. She’s a heartbreaker.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No. I’d just hate to see you get hurt. She’s got a long history of dumping guys when the moon is in the seventh house.”

“I’m a big boy and I know the score. She’s gorgeous and I’m the former fat kid who shouldn’t be playing in her league.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to…it’s all over your face. She’s a winner, I’m a loser.”

“No, she’s a bitch and you’re a sweetheart…just…you know…don’t get so wrapped up in her that you can’t walk away if you have to.”

“Okay, but if I’m such a sweetheart, how come I can’t get anywhere with you?”

“Because it’s like we learned in chem. Nothing happens without internal combustion.”

I wasn’t sure how Ken would react to having company, especially when I brought Josh out to the terrace and found him and Rookie staring into space. But testimony to what a great guy Josh was, he simply pulled up a chair and stared right along with his friend and his dog.

I found out later that they never exchanged a single word, until in a unanimous vote, they decided it was time for me to make them lunch. And nothing like a fridge full of leftovers to give two hungry guys a common bond.

In fact, it was over a plate of cold cuts that Josh asked Ken an innocent question. Wasn’t this the last day for his family to sit shivah?

“I sort of lost track, but maybe,” Ken replied. “Why?”

“Because there’s this nice tradition you do to end it. You take a walk around the block and when you come back, you basically agree to start your life over.”

“Whoa,” I said. “Someone paid attention in Hebrew school.”

“Not even a little bit.” He chomped on a giant corned beef sandwich. “Remember I told you about Rebecca, my all-of-a-sudden-Orthodox girlfriend? She was always talking about the meaning behind Jewish rituals and customs…and it so happened I liked this one. In fact, she used to get a whole group to join the families in mourning, even if they didn’t know the person who died.”

“Why?” I stole his pickle.

“Well, first off, the walk gives the family a way to acknowledge the end of the mourning period and to accept that their loved one is gone.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Ken stopped eating. “Who’s ready to stop grieving after a week?”

“No. Not stop grieving. Start living. Go back to work. Go back to doing the things they did before. But then when Rebecca started having a bunch of people come along, it was more like a symbolic gesture for anyone who needed to put the past behind them…Let’s say you’d been feeling guilty about something, so you’d do the walk around the block, make your peace with it, and then when you got back, the deal was you had to give yourself permission to let it go.”

God bless your cunning soul, Josh. You are a genius.

“Well that may work in Oregon or wherever the hell you were.” Ken sniffed. “But it’s too hokey for here.”

“No it’s not,” I chimed in. “Now that I think of it, my grandmother in Florida did the walk when my grandfather died. But in the middle they all got so knocked out from the heat, they stopped for lunch, did a little shopping…”

“Nice story. Thanks for sharing…By the way, do either of you know how to say the Kaddish?”

“I do.” Josh raised his hand. “It’s tricky with all the
yis-gadals
and
yis-kadashes
…but if you want, I can teach it to you. The English transliteration is pretty good.”

“Great, because I’m supposed to say it every day for a year.”

“Actually, eleven months and one day for a parent.”

“Thank you Rabbi Vogel,” I said. “But don’t you need ten men to say it with you?”

“You’d love ten men,” Josh teased. “Right Ken?”

“You’re never going to let this rest, are you?” I laughed, so happy to see Ken smile.

“Never…but in answer to your question, yes, technically,
you need ten Jewish adults, but that’s more to keep the mourner company than to impress God. He listens no matter what.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said. “Now tell me again about this walk-around-the-block thing. I think that’s the coolest idea I ever heard. Don’t you, Ken?”

“Would you stop talking to me like I’m a retard? I get what you’re up to, but I’m not into symbolic gestures. Besides, I’m barely off crutches.”

“Then I’ll drive you while everyone else walks.” I clapped. “I’ll just go real slow.”

“That is your specialty,” Josh mumbled.

“Yeah, and it would be totally humiliating,” Ken grunted. “They’ll all beat us.”

“What beat us? It’s not the running of the Indy 500.”

“Sorry, but the way you drive, everyone will be back and gone by the time we show up.”

“Fine. Josh can drive you…just don’t come crying to me when you get a ticket.”

It’s funny how a little, innocent idea can capture people’s imagination and completely take on a life of its own. But Josh’s suggestion to end shivah with a walk not only struck Ken’s family as fitting and wonderful, everyone I called said they wanted to come, and could they invite others?

We called it for the next afternoon so everyone could arrange their schedules and I could go to work in the morning, though technically, it would no longer be the seventh and final day. But Josh, Keeper of Important Jewish Information, said there was something called halacha, for just these instances. Translated, it meant that the laws were open to interpretation, as long as the person doing the reasoning was making good sense, like an umpire rendering his view of the strike zone.

And as far as Josh was concerned, a walk around the block
on the eighth day was as meaningful as the seventh, which clearly was the consensus, for when Seth peeked through Ken’s living room window, he counted a hundred people waiting.

This had to be testimony to the fact that there were either a lot of compassionate souls in Manhattan, or a lot of troubled ones who thought that this walk promised the miracle of redemption.

Seth hugged me so hard I thought my lungs would collapse. Madeline too was grateful, although she planned to stay back, lest her second-trimester legs swell in the seventy-degree heat. Ken’s mom, Judy, along with family and friends, marveled that Josh and I had pulled this off literally overnight, and hoped that Howie would see us because it was exactly the sort of thing he would have loved, which made me cry.

My parents drove in from Jersey, which was a very good sign. Then Julia arrived, and while in the middle of telling me she would always be there for me, off she went to find Josh. Finally, Rachel showed up with two friends from work, but from the way they were dressed, clearly this was less about paying respects than paying attention to the date bait in the shivah pond.

Several of Ken’s coworkers arrived, armed with water bottles and Gatorade, as if this was a 5K race. Pet-walking neighbors were also in force, setting a new standard for multitasking. And then came Sierra, minus the old lady clothes, bitching that since New York City blocks were so big, we should only have to go halfway around. Oh, and could she bum a cigarette?

“Thanks for coming,” I said.

“Whatever.”

“So let’s do it.” I hooked Rookie to his leash.

“Well wait.” Ken stopped. “Aren’t they going to expect me to say a few words? I didn’t prepare anything.”

“It’s not a fund-raiser, dear,” Judy said. “Maybe just thank everyone.”

“I’ll get it started,” Josh offered. “Rebecca e-mailed me this short prayer she uses.”

“Okay.” Ken hesitated. “But now I’m going to feel really stupid being in the car when there are all these people walking.”

“Do you still have your wheelchair?” Judy asked.

“I am not going in a wheelchair, Mother. That’s pathetic.”

“Actually, it’s not,” I said. “You and Rookie will get the fresh air, we’ll take turns pushing, and then we don’t have to worry about the car getting stuck at a red light.”

Ken looked around and he knew he was outvoted. Nobody cared about him being embarrassed. They just wanted to get the show on the road. And so it was that we assembled in front of his building on that sunny, warm May afternoon, each person with his own personal goal.

From the gaggle of girls who greeted Ken with hugs and kisses, clearly they had come to score points. Each one looked in his eyes, like Monica Lewinsky on the rope line, hoping for a sign of desire, which, God, how low could you go? The man just buried his father, did they honestly think he was thinking about hooking up? Yes.

Then Rachel whispered that she just saw Nina get out of her car, pregnant and glowing, and sure enough Ken and family greeted her as though royalty had arrived. I tried to pick up on Ken’s reaction to her, but there was such a swarm, I couldn’t see his face.

But that was nothing compared to the buzz when a black stretch limo pulled up to the curb and out popped, say it ain’t so, Mira Darryl. Who else could afford the new forty-eight-hundred-dollar Fendi spy bag?

“Oh my God.” Rachel grabbed my arm. “Check out the pocketbook. It cost more than my mortgage payment.”

“You poor thing.” Julia came up to me. “This must be a nightmare for you.”

“I’m fine.” I tried to remember David’s best poker face.

“The nerve of her!” Madeline came over. “How did she find out about this?”

“It was in the paper,” I said.

“Really?”

“No, of course not. He obviously asked her to come.”

But what really hurt was that El Schmucko didn’t even bother trying to introduce me, as if I was the event coordinator, too busy handling the logistics to have time for socializing.

Didn’t I get it? Every time I thought we were connecting, I got slammed by reality. I was no better than Josh, thinking I could join relationshipland with one of the perfect people. Especially when membership required five-thousand-dollar pocketbooks and chauffeur-driven limousines.

I felt like Little Sally Saucer. Cry Sally cry. Turn to the east, and turn to the west, and turn to the one who Ken loves best. Given that he seemed elated to have Mira hovering, it sure wasn’t me.

“Come, dear.” Judy grabbed my hand and pulled me in their direction. “This was your idea, and you are going to lead the way.”

“No wait. Stop. What are you doing?”

Before I knew it, she was introducing me to Mira. “This is Ken’s dear friend, Robyn Fortune, who has been taking such wonderful care of him.”

Ken coughed. “I think you two spoke on the phone when I was in the hospital.”

“We did?” Mira sniffed.

Uh oh. That was the time I said my name was Sierra and now the real one was here…God help me if they start chatting.

“I don’t recall the conversation.” She stroked Ken’s arm.
“But Ken might have mentioned you in passing. Aren’t you his little friend from nursery school?”

“Yes, but she’s a big girl now.” Judy grabbed Ken’s wheelchair. “Robyn, you push.”

“I’ll do it.” Mira reached for the handles.

“Not necessary.” Judy practically stepped on her toe.

“Why don’t they each take a side?” Ken begged.

“Because it’s dangerous if too many people steer.” She cued me to take over. “Do you want to end up on the ground?”

Nothing like feeling like the nurse’s aide walking beside the patient’s beautiful lover. And though Mira seemed equally uncomfortable, it didn’t stop her from continually leaning over to pet Rookie and ask Ken if he was comfortable.

Hardly the warm, emotional outing I’d expected, but it did confirm one thing. God and the spirit of Howie were on my side, for just then, a cab sped by, splashing Mira’s new, creamy beige Emilio Ungaro trousers and Gucci flats, which was such a Carrie Bradshaw, in-the-tutu moment. Only this time, the actress freaked and raced back to her limo.

“Ding dong, the witch is dead.” I whispered to my parents. “Can you see if she melted?”

Ken probably thought about rescuing her, but Josh spotted the opening and tore through the pack like a Giants linebacker, grabbing hold of his wheelchair.