The End of Summer (3 page)

Edith,
as my mom preferred to be called, lived for the past three years in a high-rise
on Fifth Avenue with a stunning view of the park.  I stayed there a couple of
days last year, and it was beautiful, but when Dad was in town, we always got
together the three of us at the house in the village.  My parents were always
village people, real artists, but when you make it and cash in on your art,
some things change inside you.  You become part of the industry, and your
priorities change.  Edith, who used to rally to save the trees, is now driven
around town in a limo.  She flies around in private jets and drinks Dom
Perignon on front porch of her summer house in South Lake Tahoe.

Nick,
my dad, on the other hand, although as famous and wealthy as mom is, went the
other way and lived a more simple and practical life.  On a trip to the south
of France, he met a woman who had just inherited a vineyard.  A couple of
months later, he and Mom separated, he married Marie, and he practically lives with
her most of his time.  He makes wine and sends me a dozen cases every year.  But
Dad being Dad, he can’t leave his camera for more than a couple of days in a
row and came up with an idea during his first winemaking season.  He now
publishes a Wine Models wall calendar:  Nude models making wine.  It was a hit
from the first issue, and this year alone it sold nine million copies.

The
doorman greeted me as he opened the door to Edith’s building, “Nice to see you
again, Mr. Reagan.”

“Nice
to see you too, Roger, is Edith in?”  I asked.

“Certainly. 
She is expecting you, sir,” he eloquently said.

“Thanks,”
I replied casually.

Since
Mom and Dad never got married, and Mom was never married before or after, she
never was a Mrs. Anyone.  She doesn’t use her last name either or Miss or Ms. or
any of that “crap”, to put it in her own words.  She was simply Edith. On the
other hand, I was Richard Alexander Ernest Amadeus Reagan.  Yes indeed, that
was my full name.  When I asked my mom why she chose that name for me, she said
that I should have five names with the initials reading the same backwards and
forwards, without any other explanation of why the hell that made any
significance to anyone, but that was mom’s way, and no one can argue with “Lady
Edith.”

The
ride took less than a minute to reach the twenty-eighth floor, with only one
interruption from a couple on the twelfth floor, who instead of pushing the
down button, pushed the up button.  I rang her doorbell twice before I heard
someone coming.  That someone was for sure not my mom because he or she was
running to the door.  Mom would walk but never run.

“Can
I help you?”  The shirtless young man at the door asked me.

“Who
the hell are you?”  I asked firmly.

“I’m
…” he started to say something when Edith appeared from behind him, “Richard,
darling, come in.”

She
gave me a kiss on both cheeks without her lips touching my face.  I kept
looking at the shirtless guy as he closed the door and came and put his arm
around Edith’s waist.  I kept staring at them together until Edith said, “Oh,
Richard, this is Kevin, the star of my new play.”  She paused for a second and
continued, “My son, Richard.”

“Nice
to meet you, Richard,” Kevin said and held out his hand to shake mine.

Ignoring
him completely, I asked Edith, “Can he at least put his shirt on?”

“Kevin,
honey, could you give us a moment?  Thank you, darling,” Edith said with a firm
voice and a smile.

Edith
went to the couch across the room as I watched Kevin disappear into the other
room.  I didn’t move, and I turned to Edith as she poured champagne in two
glasses, took one in her hand and looked at me and said, “Come sit next to me and
have some champagne.  Tonight is a big night for both of us.”

“Both
you and Kevin, you didn’t get married did you?”  I asked, still standing close
to the door.

“Don’t
be silly, sweetheart.  It’s a big night for you and me,” she said
sarcastically.

“I
didn’t get you mom,” I said, approaching her and sitting down next to her.

She
handed me the glass of champagne and I took a sip.  It was one of the best
champagnes I ever had. She took an envelope from the side table and gave it to
me.  I took it but hesitated a little.

“Well,
come on.  Open it,” she urged me.

I
opened it and took out a check.  A check with my name on it for fifty thousand
dollars.  I looked inside the envelope for at least a note to explain this
sudden influx of money, but it was empty.  I turned to Edith, holding the check
with a, “what the hell is that for?”  Look on my face.

“It
is your share from tonight’s play’s advance.  There will be many like this one
still to come,” Edith spoke casually, as if it is a daily occurrence for me to
get this amount of money.

I
looked at her still not getting it and said, “Come again?”

“If
you came and watched the play tonight, you wouldn’t need any explanations,” she
said.

“But
I didn’t,” I clarified.

“I
based the play on you when you were seventeen. Kevin is you,” she explained.

“Oh
man! Edith, what the fuck?  You ran out of people and things to talk about, and
you turned to your own family?” I said in an irritated voice.

“Richard,
it is a beautiful play.  It’s going to be a great success,” she assured me.

“Edith,
I don’t care.  You exposed me in front of the whole world,” I countered.

“Oh!
No one will know it was you,” she said.

“But
you know, Ma, and I know.  Did you ever think about that?”  I said that and
stood up.

“Richard,
sit down.  Don’t be silly,” she commanded.

“I
don’t want this.”  I tossed the check on the table in front of me and rushed to
the door.

“Richard,
wait.”  Edith took the check off the table and walked towards me.

“Edith,
go back to your boyfriend,” I cynically said.

She
slapped me on my shoulder and snapped. “How dare you talk to me like that?  Do
you think I don’t have the right to live?”

I
turned to leave but she grabbed me and turned me around, “look at me, your dad
fucked every model he photographed, right under my nose.”

“Mom.
That’s not what I meant,” I started to say.

“And
now what does he do?  He gathers a dozen of his teenage whores and take their
pictures and presents them to the world as wine virgins,” she said with sorrow.

“We
don’t have to do this right now.  Listen.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to hurt
you,” I said while hugging her.

“Richard,
I’m forty-eight now.  Soon I’ll be an old woman, and no one will look at me.  Everybody
will say how beautiful I was, not how beautiful I am.  Do you know how much
that hurts?”  She said, while looking straight into my eyes.

I
took her hand, kissed it, and said, “You are Edith, the most beautiful woman in
the world.”

She
smiled at me.  “Nonsense. You say that because I used to let you eat chocolate
ice cream and skip dinner.”

“I
still do,” I said, while smiling.

“Take
this.  It’s yours.  You will make me happy.”  She said as she handed me the
check.  Then she asked me, “Tell me.  What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Later,”
I said, I took the check, kissed her goodnight, opened the door, and went out. 
As she closed the door behind me, I heard her calling playfully, “Kevin, come
dear, let’s rehears your role one more time.”

I
arrived at Zinc at almost half past eleven.  I looked everywhere, and neither
Lyn nor Joe nor Becca were in sight.  I went to the bar and ordered a double
Jack Daniels on the rocks.

“Hey
Frank ,did you see Joe?”  I asked the bartender.

“You
just missed him.  He left five minutes ago with his girlfriend,” Frank answered
without looking at me.

“Was
there anyone with them?” I asked again.

“I
dunno, man.  Excuse me.”  Speaking to another patron, he said, “One Cosmo,
coming up.”

“Hey,
you came!” Caroline called from behind me and put her hand on my shoulder and
kissed me.

“It’s
been a month since I came here,” I answered.

“You
wanna buy me a drink?” She asked playfully, and she looked drunk already as she
was hardly able to stand straight.

I
asked her, “How many drinks did you have?”

She
put up her fingers and said, “Three beers and six, no, seven tequila shots.” 
Then, out of the blue, she threw herself on me and kissed me, while wrapping
her arms around me.  Her tequila breath was too much for me.

Shortly
afterwards, someone tapped on my shoulder.  Caroline released me, and I turned
around.  It was her ex-boyfriend, Simon.  Caroline leaned against me and with
her arms around me started kissing my neck.

“Simon,”
I said.

“Richard,”
he replied.

“What’s
up, man?” I asked him.

“Are
you dating this bitch now?”  He asked referring to Caroline.

“You
mean your mom? I went out with her a couple of ti..”  I said fishing for
violent reaction.

Before
I could continue, Simon swung a punch at me, but I ducked, and he lost his
balance and fell.  I took that as my cue, put twenty dollars on the bar and
left.  As soon as I was outside I texted Joe.

“whr r u?”

“@my place, wth lyn”

“lft Z early”

“hv mtng wth fkng lyr tom”

“gd lk”

If
they are both at Joe’s place, then Becca must be staying alone at Lyn’s house. 
It seems she didn’t come back as she said she would.  I thought of going there
to see her.  What’s the worst that would happen, I thought.  She will not let
me in, but she will know how much I want her.

I
hailed a cab, and before I could get in, Caroline rushed out of the bar towards
me.  And as soon as she came close, she threw up right on the cab’s back
wheel.  Some of it splattered and hit my jeans.  I closed the door of the cab
and held Caroline up and took her to a less busy part of the street.  We sat at
the curb.  She looked awful, and I felt sorry for her.

As
soon as she calmed down a little, she told me how she saw Simon with his new
girlfriend and that she slapped her across the face just before she saw me in
the bar.  I laughed because I figured out why Simon tried to punch me.  He was
defending the honor of his girlfriend, who was slapped by his ex, by punching
her allegedly boyfriend.  What a cunning plan I thought, and laughed as I brought
Caroline to her feet, put her in a cab, and took her home.

Five
flights up, we reached Caroline’s apartment.  She was just dragging her feet as
I moved her up step after step.  After managing to fish her key out of her bag,
I opened the door.  It swung open, and I immediately heard the sounds of a
couple having passionate sex.  In her living room, there was Amanda, her
roommate, having sex with some guy I recognized from college.  They were fully
naked and doing it doggy style. Barging in startled them, and they stopped for
a moment. Amanda covered her dangling breasts with her hand.  Her friend didn’t
move from behind her.

“What
happened to her?”  Amanda asked.

“She
had too much to drink.  Where’s her room?”  I asked.

“The
door on the left.  We share the same room her bed is on the right.”

I
put Caroline on her bed and took her shoes off.  After a few seconds, the little
lovebirds in the living room resumed their activity, and Caroline was almost
asleep.  I helped her out of her dirty clothes and left her in her bra and
panties.  As I was putting the covers over her, while half asleep, she
murmured, “Take me, I’m all yours,” and she passed out.

She
made me laugh, that girl.  I waited a little bit on the edge of her bed till
the sounds in the living room subsided, and a few minutes after I heard the
door close.  Amanda came in wearing her underwear, and she crashed on her bed.

“Are
you staying?”  She asked.

 “I
was just leaving.  Didn’t want to disturb your love making twice in the same
night,” I said as I stood up and walked toward the bedroom door. “Open or
shut?”

“What?”
she asked.

“The
bedroom door, you want it open or shut?” I said again.

“Open,”
she said.

“Goodnight,”
I said as I went out.

I
left Caroline’s house a little bit after midnight, and all I could think of was
Becca and how desperately I wanted to be with her.  I walked through the
streets, past the drug addicts and the drunks hiding in the shadows of old
buildings.  I thought about my own life and how I am living in the shadows of
my own parents.  I can’t be just anyone, I had to be exceptional.  I can’t be a
character in a play that someone else wrote. I have to write my own play.  I
have to rewrite my own life.

That
night, I reached home, took off my soiled jeans and t-shirt and I threw them in
the garbage.  I took a shower and washed that dreadful night off me.  I opened
a bottle of wine from my dad’s vineyard, took out my laptop, and started
writing.