Fate and Ms. Fortune (31 page)

It worked. I saw him peering at me with the lecherous desire of a man who had found the car of his dreams and would not rest until he was behind the wheel. The downside was that
watching him watch me made me want to stop the car, tear off my clothes, and do him until the mirrors fogged.

In fact, over breakfast at the hotel coffee shop, I was so wound up in fantasy, I buttered my hand and put a straw in my coffee.

“Are you okay?” Ken asked.

“I’m fine.” I coughed. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Well, I hope you’re not worried about working with Steve. You’re in great hands.”

“I’m not worried about being in Steve’s hands. I’m worried about being in yours.”

“Meaning what? You don’t think I’m doing a good job for you?”

“No, you’re amazing. I’m saying that right now I am so horny for you, I—”

“Really?” His eyes lit up. “Waitress. Check please!”

“Not so fast, kemosabe. Because here’s the problem…I’ve seen this movie already and I know how it ends. Every time we get close, you disappear on me.”

“But that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you…I have thought long and hard about this and—”

“Don’t say long and hard…it gets me crazy.”

“Our flight isn’t until two…”

“Don’t care. I need your assurance that you are going to stay by my side and not head for the hills, or to Mira’s house, or wherever you go every time you feel like we’re getting too close…I need to know you really care about me.”

“I care a great deal. I always did.”

“Well you have a funny way of showing it.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t because I didn’t have feelings for you, it was because the feelings I had for you were starting to get so intense…The truth is, after Nina left me, I was destroyed. I couldn’t fathom how something that started out so strong could literally fall apart overnight…”

“And why take the chance of being fooled again? You’d only get hurt.”

“Exactly.”

“Yet you had no problem chasing Mira.”

“Exactly.”

“But how could both things be true?”

“Because I never felt about Mira the way I feel about you…”

“Do you mean that?”

“Every word…I realized I was never in love with Mira. I was in love with the excitement, the boost to my career, which I needed after being out of commission for so long…When I was with her, I was back in
Variety.
And you have to admit she is a beautiful girl. She’s the Ferrari every guy dreams of driving.”

“And what am I? The ’57 Chevy you take out on Sundays and then store in the garage?”

“No…you’re the classic gem…the true beauty…the one who never disappoints.”

“Then why did you practically have a nervous breakdown when she left you?”

“Because I was tired of being humiliated…After you’ve been dumped a bunch of times, everyone thinks it’s you.”

“Twice is hardly a trend.”

“How about ten times?”

“No way. Ten times?”

“Eleven if you bail.”

“What are you? Radioactive?”

“Actually, the woman I was engaged to before Nina did call me toxic.”

“You were engaged before Nina? What happened to her?”

“She said it was cold feet. But it turns out they were just being warmed by someone else.”

“It’s like you’ve got a manufacturer’s defect…”

“Thanks. I feel better now…The truth is, the only one who hasn’t left me is Rookie…Maybe because I have him on a leash. Not that I blame anyone. I’ve been so moody and depressed all these years, I didn’t want to be with me either…I wasn’t a good partner. Not even a good friend…I don’t know. Emotions would come over me that made it impossible to be there for anyone else…And when they’d call me on it, most times I wouldn’t bother defending myself. I thought they were right.”

“And therapy didn’t help?”

“You have to want it to help. I had one shrink tell me she’d never had a patient as determined to sabotage himself as me and that I was secretly enjoying being a martyr…I didn’t believe her, but then when you said the same thing, it hit me that maybe I was in denial. And then I started thinking about the minute I came to on the terrace and you were trying to rescue me and make me laugh at the same time…I thought I was dreaming because you looked like an angel.”

Tears welled.

“And it was so weird because instead of thinking about how much pain I was in, all I could think about was that you must have been sent to me for a reason and I didn’t need to be afraid. Then after we found out we had all these family connections and shared experiences, there was no doubt that your being there was no coincidence.”

“Then what was all that bullshit last night about not believing in fate?”

“It’s an ego thing. I hate sounding gullible. And more than that, I hate being wrong.”

“It’s funny. A few weeks ago, my mom said, ‘Fate never knocks at the wrong door. You just have to be ready to answer.’”

Ken’s eyes watered, and for that brief moment, the sounds
of clanking plates and clamoring silverware were drowned out by thoughts of love and hope.

“You do realize,” I finally said, “that if everything works out, I may have to move here.”

“I’m aware. But what kind of partner would I be if I got in your way? That’s why if this does work out for you, and I have every reason to believe it will, maybe I’ll join you. I hear there is an occasional opening for experienced entertainment lawyers…But only if you want me to.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sure. Rookie and I love California.”

“Oh my God. That would be amazing.” I started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Um, while we’re being totally honest, I have a confession…”

“You mean about the fifteen hundred?”

“Madeline told you?”

“She had to. She needed me to give her the money before Seth found out.”

“That’s hilarious…But wait. Did you know that I used it to pay Seth’s retainer for my bankruptcy hearing?”

“You’re kidding. I paid my own brother for something he would have done for me for free? Damn…he better pay me back…Let’s go upstairs and call him.”

“Oooh. Very smooth.” I laughed. “But hold on.” I leaned in. “I need to know. Was it just me, or was the sex we had…”

“…took me on a ride like no other.”

“And do you promise to take me on that ride again and again?”

“You have my word.” He pulled me to him and kissed me so hard I moaned.

“Hey, you two,” a man at the counter said. “Get a room already.”

“Excellent idea.” Ken paid the check and took my hand. “Yours or mine?”

“Both.” I clapped.

“Both?” His eyes lit up. “God, I love you. And I love you too.” He kissed the man.

“Hey!” I said. “I didn’t wait this long to have to share you.”

“Right.” He turned to the man. “Sorry. She saw me first.”

“That’s true.” I laughed. “I know him since the day he’s born.”

T
HE CONTRACT WITH
my agent wasn’t the only agreement I signed that week. Ken also drew up a contract that one might initially think was a prenup, though it mentioned nothing of assets. Instead, it stated in loving words his desire to share a lifetime together, and his promise that the only circumstances under which he would ever leave was if we needed milk.

Naturally, I was out-of-mind excited to get home and share my news. I had a real, live Hollywood agent, a possible deal with a cable network to produce my comedy special, and the man of my dreams with whom to share my life.

But instead of running to tell the usual list of suspects, my first call was to Annette. For she was the one who helped me understand the true meaning of fate. “Don’t you get it?” she’d persisted.

Yes, I finally got it.

I got that fate may have been the unexpected guest at my cousin Brandon’s bar mitzvah, but ultimately, it’s what got the party started. For had it not been divined that I try my hand at
comedy, I wouldn’t have been asked to do my act. Had I not performed, Seth wouldn’t have known I was there or had reason to talk to me about his brother. Had I not called his brother, I would never have known Ken Danziger existed, or learned the meaningful role he had played in my young life. Had I not called Rachel to tell her about Ken, I never would have gone to his apartment, or seen the photo I took of him with Larry and Mo. And had I given up on him when I felt he was emotionally unreachable, I would never have made it to a happy ending.

I got that what made marriage so empowering was not what it taught you about relationships, but what it taught you about destiny. That like a UPS package, you started out thinking you got exactly what you ordered, only to realize it could be nothing like you expected.

I married David, so sure he was the answer to my prayers, only to find out he was the beginning of my nightmares. Phillip married Patti, the shiksa goddess, only to discover that beauty did not age well when it didn’t come from within. As for Sheil, she assumed when she married Harvey that she was settling, only to learn she had wed the one man who would love her more than she ever loved herself.

I got that when you thought you were a victim of difficult circumstances, it was in actuality the spin cycle of life. A cycle whose sole intent was to make sure you came out facing the right direction and ready to start clean.

I got that what you couldn’t make happen was never meant to be.

But the one thing I didn’t get was how I would find the time to start my new life.

I had to pack up my apartment and move to LA, begin work on a pilot for Showtime, return to New York to be Julia’s maid of honor when she married Josh (talk about fate bringing two
people together). Oh, and somehow I needed to start planning my own wedding.

It was an abundance of riches, though, as we are taught in the Jewish faith, sweetness and sorrow go hand in hand. For my parents’ forty-second wedding anniversary, I sent them a card and inscribed this message: “Not even the best maps can prevent bumps in the road. But if you travel with the one you love, you will never be lost.”

It was timely, for had I waited a week to send it, it would have been too late.

On a beautiful Sunday in October, Harvey Holtz suffered a fatal heart attack while tending to his wife’s cherished garden. Only for her to discover him holding fresh roses in his hand that he had intended for her.

But eight months later, the cycle of life again brought joy to our door. For Ken and I celebrated the birth of our baby, the very round and silly-looking, Harris Todd Danziger.

What could be more perfect than to have a son to name in honor of three extraordinary souls? Harris for my father, Harvey; Todd, for my baby brother; and Danziger to carry on Ken’s family name. Truly our boy was blessed with a legacy of goodness and the spirit of hope.

Ditto for his older cousin, Montgomery Howard Danziger, the rambunctious, talkative, two-year old son of Seth and Madeline who was the spitting image of his father.

At the bris, we prayed hard that Harry and Monty would grow up together and feel the kindred spirit of their grandfather guiding them through their hopefully blessed journey.

And oh yes. Remember the psychic my mother shlepped to Long Island to see? Her name was Helen Konieczka…grandmother to Annette. I kid you not. But how to explain that two generations of women from one family unknowingly
consulted with two generations of women from another? Have I taught you nothing?

As for me? The former Ms. Fortune? I finally allowed fate to lead me to the road on which I was destined to travel. The road on which a comic lived happily ever after with one of the Three Stooges.

Talk about having the last laugh!

Writing a novel is like being in labor. You feel anxious, excited, tense…and that’s just the first half hour. By nine centimeters (the last chapter), you’re cursing like a high school kid. Then, miracle of miracles, your beautiful baby is born (manuscript) and it’s thank you, thank you, thank you…Sorry if I forgot your birthday…It’s just an honor to be nominated…

So…I gratefully acknowledge those who gave so generously of their time and expertise: Dr. Mitch Shapiro, Adam West, Blaine Gorelik, Lisa French, Annette Ridam, Hinda Abramowitz, Frank Culotta, and Josh Gorelick. My characters learned from the best.

Without Alana Smithers, the beautiful, talented makeup artist to the stars, my heroine would have had zero to say and even less to do. Thank you for your wisdom and grace. You have the best hands and heart in the business…Arnie and Sheila Wexler, the founders of 1–888-LAST BET, are national treasures. Bless their determined souls for devoting themselves to getting compulsive gamblers (as young as twelve) back to living instead of losing.

My tenacious, don’t-even-think-of-not-calling-me-back research assistants, Maya Dollerhide and Liza Jaipaul, hit the ground running and returned laden with information. Ladies, thank you. The best fiction always gets the facts right.

My kids swear I have the world’s shortest buddy list, but I am lucky to have many friends and family with whom I am enjoying the ride. Thank you Judi Ratner, Pat Hanley, Fern Drasin, Ellen Gordon, Lenore French, Heidi Rosenberg, and Cindy Spodex for your decades of kinship and faith. Thank you Susan Kaufman, Sue Zola, Bonnie Hoffman, Ellen Wolf-son, Cheryl Goldblum, and Denise Morris for insisting I come out to walk/play/eat sushi.

Authoring was a lonely gig until I pledged PPG (Power Punch Gals). Now I’ve got sixty sorority sisters who know from the thrill of victory (royalties!) and the agony of defeat (rejection). Love you all, but especially our fearless leader, Dr. Mickey Pearlman, the indomitable Erika Moore, and my dear, funny Long Island muse, Christine O’Hagan.

I say one semifunny thing to my sister, Mira Temkin, and there goes the conversation. She’s laughing so hard she can’t breathe. Thanks Mi, for a lifetime of sharing, caring, and shameless promotion. Between you, Darryl, Alison, Hilary, and Ari, is there anyone in Chicago who hasn’t heard of me?

Talk about fate and good fortune. I lucked out when the gifted Lyssa Keusch agreed to be my editor. She always has the right words to nurture and inspire and she so gets my humor (thank God). I adore her style, her vision, and mostly her ability to turn messes into masterpieces. Ditto for getting plucked from obscurity by über-agent Deborah Schneider. This marks our tenth year in the trenches together, and without her compassion, wisdom, and don’t-you-worry-about-a-thing approach, I wouldn’t have such sweet dreams. I am also grateful that she brought Steve Fisher, the hardest working Hollywood agent, to the party. Thank you, Steve, for your unwavering
faith, perseverance, and head-of-the-class intelligence. I am so proud to be represented by you both.

Jason Kaufman, founder of Ta-Da.com and webmaster extraordinaire, is a true original. His creative visions and business smarts are such a winning combo. Thank you, Jason, for outdoing yourself book after book.

How is this for amazing luck? My parents, Harold and Doris Hymen, and my second mother, Rita Rosenberg, are still working, playing, volunteering, and singing my praises. Did I mention they are all in their eighties? Their zeal, courage, and support inspire me daily.

My children used to fight like hell until they discovered a more entertaining pursuit. Making fun of me. Thank you Zack, Alex, and Taryn for your endless repartee of mom jokes that fill the house with laughter. But what I love most is that you conduct your lives with such grace, honor, and integrity. I am abundantly blessed to have you in my life and in my corner.

It takes great courage to say to your wife, “Sure. Quit your high-paying job to stay home and write. Who needs a second income?” We did. Thank you, Lee, for your unshakable belief in me and for holding down the fort all these years so I didn’t have to put my dreams on hold. I promise I’ll pay you back. Love you so much. Can’t and won’t do this without you by my side.

And finally, a word to every reader who took the time to e-mail me and wish me a long, happy career. Thank you for your generous praise and encouragement, though truth be told, I found far greater inspiration in
your words
than in my own. Please, please, please, keep in touch through my website:
www.saraleerosenberg.com.

Continued good things to you and yours,
Saralee Rosenberg
February 2006