Marooned in Manhattan (10 page)

Chapter 18

I
am upset. ‘Upset’ doesn’t really cut it.
I’m angry and super, super upset. I hate that slithering, sneaky, pig-ugly, thinks-she’s-a-princess Leela. What am I thinking, calling her a pig? Arnold, the potbellied pig, is a thousand times better looking than Leela. But let me back up, all the way to this morning. Indirectly, it was kind of Scott’s fault. He has this very irritating rule that I’m only allowed to use his iPad for an hour every day and I had already used up my hour by noon. That was a major problem because I have almost reached expert level on a new game app, which features a teenage, aboriginal girl who kills drug pushers and other bad guys with a boomerang while roaming the Australian outback. I just seem to have an enviable knack with a cyber boomerang.

Scott and Jake had decided on the spur of the moment to play squash. They had booked the court for only an hour and they were in such a rush that Scott dashed out without his phone. It seemed a perfect opportunity for some necessary extra iPad time, but I decided to take precautions in case he came home early. To avoid possible detection, I hid with the iPad behind the black sofa in the living room. It was quite
comfortable on the floor there with my legs stretched out. I had some cushions and a bar of real Cadbury’s chocolate, my favourite, a golden crisp that Janet had sent to me in the post. I muted the sound on the iPad and was concentrating hard when I heard the key turn in the door and the impatient click-clacking sound of high heels on the wooden floorboards.

Peering under the sofa, I glimpsed Leela’s purple patent slingbacks. She called out in an antsy, peevish tone, ‘Scott, are you here?’

Silence.

‘Evangeline? Anyone?’

I briefly thought about answering but rejected the idea. I could get stuck with Leela for half an hour or more. Maybe she would just leave. No such luck. As Leela sat down, the sofa sagged in the middle, squeezing my knees painfully so that I nearly yelped. I heard her punching out a number on her BlackBerry.

She began speaking to her friend, Kirsten, about her usual woes, the pain-in-the-ass clients, the colleague who had
bad-mouthed
her to the senior partner, the mustard stain on her white blazer that the incompetent dry cleaners had failed to get out. I blocked her out, focusing on my boomerang until the sound of my own name caused me to lift my head.

‘Scott is driving himself into bankruptcy over Evie. First it was horseback riding lessons. That was just the beginning. Now, he is talking about private school.’

Pause.

‘He will probably want to provide her with her own car and driver next,’ she snapped.

I couldn’t hear Kirsten’s response.

‘Yes, she is supposed to go back to Britain, or Ireland, or wherever, in September, but Scott has given her the choice. I tried to get the contact details for the mother’s friend in Ireland from her but she blanked me out. I am TERRIFIED that she is going to stay here. You know, if freckled little orphan Annie hadn’t popped up, Scott and I would definitely be engaged by now.’

‘We never do fun things anymore,’ Leela complained. ‘I can’t remember the last time we ate at a half-way decent restaurant. We never went to the Hamptons once this summer. Scott always feels he has to be with that weird kid.’

Oh, I’m the weird one, I thought bitterly.

Leela continued to rant.

‘It’s all that bohemian, college drop-out, hippy-dippy, scattered sister’s fault, dying and dumping her kid on Scott like that. You will not believe this but, apparently, she didn’t even have a life insurance policy. Scott was her life insurance policy.’

For a few seconds, I just heard her say, ‘Mm, ok, mm’.

Then, she started up again.

‘The stupid, stinky dog and the constant stream of germridden animals was bad enough, but now a kid as well, and soon she’s going to turn into a moody teenager. It’s intolerable! Can you imagine having a teenage waif hanging around all the time, staring at me with that freaky stare she has?’

My mouth dropped open. I don’t have a ‘freaky stare’. I heard a mumbled voice from the other end of the phone.

Leela broke in, ‘I can’t believe I ended up in a relationship with a practically penniless vet, while someone like Joanna Barrett, who can barely walk in flat shoes without falling, lands a wealthy hedge fund guy. It doesn’t make sense.’

Again, there was a pause.

‘Yes,’ Leela conceded, ‘Scott is super hot. And, if he listened to me, with those looks, his charm, and his people skills, he could have it totally made. You remember that guy Donald, the one I represented in defending the paternity and child support case? The mother was so desperate I was able to settle it for almost nothing. Anyway, Donald is a producer at a new local cable channel and he is putting together a TV show about a veterinary surgeon based in Manhattan. Carefully selected hotties will bring in their pets to the studio for his advice. It’s bound to be a hit. You can barely walk half a block in this city without tripping over ten little hairy puffballs. Manhattan is teeming with animal lovers. And if the show is a hit, which it will be, then it will be syndicated nationally. Ker-ching.’

More silence.

My breathing seemed so loud. I clamped my hand over my mouth, but that seemed to make it worse as I struggled for air between my fingers.

But Leela didn’t notice.

‘Of course, I have suggested to Scott that he should audition for the show,’ she wailed. ‘I have been trying to get
him interested for a month now, but he just won’t bite. It is sooooo frustrating.’

More mumbling.

‘Yes,’ said Leela, thoughtfully, ‘Scott does have a keen appreciation for the finer things in life. I think his reluctance is really because of the little leprechaun. I have to make sure she definitely returns to Leprechaun Land in September. Then, I am certain I could persuade Scott to do the show and we will be engaged by New Year’s Eve, maybe even
on
New Year’s Eve, which would be a nice touch. I want to have the wedding next May, it’s such a chic month to get married.’

I don’t know what Kirsten said in reply, but Leela cackled and said, ‘I’m hardly the wicked stepmom. The kid will be better off back there. She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong with Scott. I’m really doing Scott a favour. He’ll be secretly relieved when his financial headache is gone and his conscience will be clear and he won’t have to work
thousands
of hours in the basement anymore.’

Oh no, I thought as I heard the familiar, soft, flip-flop patter of Ben’s snowshoe-like paws as he entered the living room. He paused right beside Leela and I saw his head duck down under the sofa. His large brown eyes met mine and he sniffed.

‘Oh no, please!’ I whispered. ‘Please Ben, not now, don’t give me away.’

I felt frantic. Ben doesn’t even understand the command ‘sit’. He’s never going to get this.

But, to my astonishment, he didn’t start barking. His head
withdrew from under the sofa. A couple of minutes later, as Leela talked about her prospective bridesmaids, I got a waft of noxious, rotten egg fumes mixed with kitty litter smell. Ben had let loose one of his silent, most deadly brand of farts – The Mother of All Farts. The smell reached Leela’s nostrils a few seconds later.

‘Ewwww!’ I heard her exclaim. ‘It’s that gross, disgusting dog again. I have to get out of here. I have an appearance in Family Court downtown this afternoon. Talk later, sweetie.’

A few seconds later, the door slammed. I let out my breath in one big gasp and crawled out into the open, iPad forgotten. First things first – an enormous hug and some Scooby treats for Ben. Then, I had to think. I felt like throwing up. I felt like punching Leela in her silly face. No, I felt like decapitating her with a boomerang.

Chapter 19

I
sat on the bottom branch of the per
fect hanging-out tree, between Kylie and Greg. Kylie delicately licked an Emack & Bolio’s Swiss chocolate and mint ice-cream cone. Greg obsessively scratched a swollen mosquito bite on his left ankle. I had already told them the gist of Leela’s evil scheme to turn Scott into a puppet vet on TV and then marry him, but I left out everything she had said about Mum and me.

‘Leela de Vil MUST be stopped!’ Kylie announced
melodramatically
.

‘How do you always manage to eat ice cream without it dripping?’ Greg asked. ‘It’s like an exception to some laws of physics or something.’

‘Could we please focus?’ I said impatiently. ‘Hang on! How
do
you manage to eat ice cream without it dripping?’

‘I was born this way,’ said Kylie complacently.

‘Ok. Back to Leela. I can’t believe Scott cares enough about her to get tangled in her nasty little web. His practice means everything to him. He’s not going to abandon it and Joanna to go play at being the hot version of Cesar Millan on TV.’

‘I think Cesar Millan is cute,’ said Kylie.

I sighed in frustration.

Kylie finished her waffle cone without any crumbs or broken pieces falling on her. Straightening imaginary creases from the skirt of her floral print sundress, she said, in a wise sounding voice, ‘Scott’s a guy so he’s capable of doing very dumb things.’

‘Sorry. Nothing personal, Greg,’ she added.

‘And before you know it, Scott and Leela are married with a baby on the way,’ she continued darkly.

‘The thought of a mini-Leela is too horrible to consider,’ I said.

‘The baby would have Scott’s genes too,’ Greg pointed out reasonably, transferring his attention to the mosquito bites on his arms.

‘Is this what you guys meant when you talked about helping me?’ I asked, ‘because I’m not finding it super duper helpful.’

Greg laughed and Kylie put her arm around me.

‘Like I said, Leela has to be stopped.’

‘Yes,’ I conceded. ‘But how? We need a plan.’

‘Why don’t you just tell Dr Brooks everything you heard Leela say?’ asked Greg.

Kylie immediately shook her head.

‘Leela’s a divorce attorney so she is an expert at twisting the facts. She’ll say how terrible she feels that Evie misunderstood her, yada yada.
And
she is the grownup. Scott will believe her and Evie is the one that will look bad for hiding behind the couch.’

‘I wasn’t exactly
hiding
behind the sofa!’ I exclaimed, indignantly. ‘I was minding my own business. Leela had no business being there. She doesn’t even live there.’

‘What about talking to Dr Barrett?’ asked Greg.

‘I’d like to tell Joanna,’ I admitted, ‘but that would mean putting her in the middle between Leela and Scott, and that doesn’t feel right.’

We sat without speaking for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the Little League players drifting on the breeze from the Great Lawn. A tall man wearing a camel overcoat despite the intense heat walked past us and then stopped and turned around.

‘Do you kids know where Strawberry Fields is? I think I’ve been walking around in circles.’

Another John Lennon fan. Kylie jumped up and gave him careful, precise directions.

‘By the way, there are no strawberry bushes there,’ she added, ‘just so you are not disappointed.’

He thanked her and went on his way.

‘We need a plan!’ I repeated.

‘A play,’ said Greg.

I stared at him.

‘Yes,’ I said slowly, ‘a plot, a cast of characters and a theme.’

‘Let’s go to my mom’s place to brainstorm,’ said Greg. ‘She has this play script software we can use. It’s fantastic! If you get stuck when you’re writing, you just hit a prompt key and it comes up with all kinds of possible turns the plot could take.’

I felt excited and the beginnings of something suspiciously like
hope
.

‘Sidney,’ I said, triumphantly.

‘Who is Sidney?’ asked Greg.

‘She’s Jake’s wife. She produces special effects for films. They live in Brooklyn and they have a very cute baby, Katie, who looks Korean, like Sidney. We went to brunch with them last Sunday and it was so obvious that Sidney and Leela hate each other and I heard Sidney tell Joanna that Scott only goes out with Leela because he is scared of love.’

‘That’s romantic,’ sighed Kylie.

‘I don’t get girls sometimes,’ said Greg. ‘That doesn’t sound romantic at all.’

‘The point is,’ I said, ‘I’m sure Sidney would be thrilled to help me rescue Scott.’

‘Help
us
,’ said Kylie and Greg together.

I was touched.

‘Thanks, guys.’