Fortune Is a Woman (40 page)

He was already dispensing with the last minute flight details by the time Helaine and Lydia rolled out of bed and scantily dressed themselves for breakfast.

Helaine had never been to Australia and she was curious. Curious about kangaroos and koalas and crocodiles, about a continent that produced strong, silent types like Chuck the bodyguard.

Chuck and Antonio and two staffers were flying to Melbourne ahead of everyone, the bodyguards to scope out the terrain and make preparations in advance for managing the crowd scene, the other two to get her situated at the hotel and assist them in designing her transit route from the airport, per request of certain government officials who had the last minute jitters from watching too much television.

She was in good hands, Carlos assured her. She believed that.

Lydia was aware of her parents’ plans today. She was relieved, she had told Helaine last night. Relief was, however, just one of the items she had in her mixed bag of emotions regarding the divorce so she seemed preoccupied today, as she was wont to be about such things, and a bit dazed which gave her that aloof air she had become so famous for.

Helaine hand-fed her breakfast with an understanding smile and, to prevent herself from taking Ms. Beaumont’s mood too personally, occupied herself instead with admiring the woman’s physique, about which she could never find any room for improvement.

It was pointless to even undertake discussing the divorce. The doctor asked her mate instead if she could taste the difference between fresh pineapples and store-bought–yes–if she planned on wearing the linen suit for the flight back–yes–and if she enjoyed herself last night even though they didn’t attend the luau with the rest of the team–you betcha.

Monosyllabic conversation aside, Lydia was being a good sport and supportive daughter to her parents and Dr. Kristenson respected her for it. She could not say for certain how she would herself have reacted if her own parents’ marriage had dissolved like this one. But then, since they were long dead, it was nothing she had to trouble herself to imagine.

Since they were long dead–she had dreamt of them again, she suddenly recalled.

“What’s wrong?” Lydia asked, retrieving a slice of pineapple from her lap and popping it into her mouth. “What are you thinking of?”

“I–it was–I can’t remember actually.”

Actually she was lying.

“It’s the last leg, Lana. We’re almost through this now.”

“I know,” she replied, shaking the image of her father’s weathered hand reaching out for hers. “Get up,” she had heard him ordering in the dream last night. “Hurry, child,” he had urged her.

She rose without a word and placed the breakfast tray in its stand beside the door. “We had better hurry now, darling. Carlos is playing the evil taskmaster today and I hear tell he wants us all up-and-at-’em by ten or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else no Australia.”

Or else no Aruba for Delilah Lewiston if she didn’t get it together by ten as well, and then that would be a very disappointing start to the first real vacation she had taken in years.

No phobias here, flying was a cinch for Delilah. She boarded planes intoxicated, drank like a fish in the air, and landed walking like a sailor. Martinis straight up. The only safe way to fly.

Everything was in capable hands, she assured herself this morning, donning a tranquil expression and a summery dress, both of which she would be hiding beneath her winter persona. The bank, the apartment, her mother–taken care of. That left nothing else to do but enjoy herself. Enjoy the sun, the sand and the surf for ten days on end. And get laid for nine nights in a row. Ahhhhhhh.

_____

“I now pronounce you man and woman,” Stanley said, without a trace of sarcasm.

Marilyn looked as if she might cry as she took off her wedding ring and handed it over to Edward. “Edward, I–”

“Now, now…it’s…as you were, Marilyn Sanders. I had a–” his voice cracked, “a lovely time.”

That did it. She was weeping, clutching both Edward’s and Stanley’s handkerchiefs and groping her way toward the door.

Edward remained seated, counting the certificates hanging on the wall as Stanley escorted the former Mrs. Beaumont into the hall. “Have a safe trip,” he heard his attorney console her. Competent Stan with all those awards. Earning his keep.

“Oh, Stan…Stan.”

“Everything’s going to be all right, Marilyn. Everything’s fine,” he heard Stan say. “It’s okay.”

Marilyn’s ring had worn thin, Edward observed. Thin enough to break with his bare hands it seemed.

“I know,” blubbered his ex-wife. “I know.”

He put it in his breast pocket where his handkerchief used to be.

“Goodbye, Edward,” Marilyn called to him.

He could feel her waiting for his response. He wanted to rush to the door. He sat instead, unable to bring himself to face her. “God speed, Marilyn,” he said to the walls.

_____

“Everything’s going to be all right, Edward. I’m proud of you.”

“I caught you at a bad time, Queenie?”

“I’m at the airport. Got to board soon.”

“Don’t let me make you miss your plane then. We’ll talk later?”

“We’ll talk tonight. Everything’s going to…is fine. I love you, Daddy.”

_____

“Everything turn out all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Roy. I…I’m just…it’s heartbreaking that’s all.”

“Marilyn, I wouldn’t want you if you enjoyed it.”

“I’m…I’ll be boarding soon, Mr. Mann. I can see the airplane from here.”

“I’ll let you go, love. Keep the phone charged. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport.”

_____

“Where are you now?”

“De Gaulle, boarding my plane. You got other plans, Mr. Jones?”

“Venus, I said I’d pick you up weeks ago. I been waiting forever for you to call.”

“Oh, shit, Sebastion. I was busy…I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s cool. Straighten up and fly right, girlfriend. When’s your plane come in?”

_____

“Aloha, darling.”

“Aloha. Where are you right now?”

“The limo. The plane’s standing by.”

“Oh, wow. We’ll be departing around the same time.”

“Uh-oh, here’s Commandant Carlos. I better hang up. I love you, Lydia Beaumont-Kristenson.”

_____

“You called me about rice? Eat the rice, Ma. It’s good for you.”

“I ordered lobster and they bring me rice. Are you going to call me from Aruba?”

“If I can find a phone.”

“Delilah Louise!”

“I’ll give you a ring from the hotel. I got to go, Ma, or I’ll miss my plane.”

_____

“You made a decision yet?”

“Paula, I’m boarding here.”

“I’ll send a car for you when you arr–”

“Sebastion’s picking me up.”

“Sebastion? You sure know how to live, Angelo. I’ll give you that much. You know how to live.”

_____

“Why it’s Dame Beaumont…you get a lei, Liddy? I’m boarding.”

“Me too. Just wanted to wish you bon voyage.”

“Bon voyage. See you in ten.”

“Should I even ask what you’ve got planned for yourself?”

“Nah, just buy the book!”

_____

“So where are you as we speak?”

“On the plane. Send my love to Robert.”

“I will. E-mail us when you get to Melbourne. Where will you be staying?”

“Oh, it’s so secret, Kay. Even I don’t know.”

_____

“Sweetheart, have you boarded yet? I’m just about to.”

“Mom–almost–I was hoping you would call.”

“Have you heard from your father?”

“Yes. How are you doing? Are you okay? I’ll be at the lake house this weekend…?”

“Oh, how thoughtful, Lydia. We’ll talk at the lake house this weekend. Have a safe trip, sweetheart.”

_____

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen–”

She had fallen into a contemplative mood, mesmerized by the boarding activities of her fellow passengers. And her deep-seated fear of flying.

“Welcome to–”

Behind her sunglasses she watched as they organized their carry-on luggage and experimented with their seat controls for comfortable positions.

“–
ternational Airlines.”

She tried to guess about each one. Who they were. What they did. Where they were coming from.

“My name is Steven Edwards and–”

Their destinations.

“I am your captain.”

The women and children first.

“It’s going to be a truly beautiful day for flying, folks.”

Then the men.

“We will be leaving the runway shortly. Our estimated time of departure is approximately three minutes.”

She was intrigued by their demeanors, by everyone’s bored, “frequent flyer” expressions, which she envied.

“We will be flying today under fair skies and–”

Their equanimity.

“–
a slight south-westerly–”

Would that she could feel that calm, she thought. That sure about everything.

“At the front of each section, you’ll see your flight attendants, Judy, Martin, Roberta and–”

She hated flying and it showed.

“They will be briefing you soon on a few of our safety features and procedures.”

It made her feel vulnerable and introspective.

“So please give them your undivided attention during their presentations.”

Morbid and superstitious.

“We trust that you will have a pleasant and enjoyable flight with us and we thank you once again for flying–”

Fearful.

_____

Landing was a breeze, but a mob scene complicated a quick getaway at the airport. What the congestion was about Lydia really didn’t want to know. Happily the family disembarking ahead of her was large enough to disappear in for awhile so she disguised herself as one of their long-lost relatives and escaped with them, head down and incognito, into the terminal, ditching her human shields only when she had finally made it through the maze of security and baggage checkpoints.

The kiosks with their fast-food smells and neon were a terrible temptation for her this evening. She had barely touched the meal she had been served on the plane. Fast-food would be one better than the bowl of dry cereal that awaited her back at the penthouse, she reasoned, but every place she passed was jam-packed with boisterous travelers and there were camera crews at every bend and she didn’t dare risk it.

She had booked a connecting flight which would have brought her much nearer to her final destination, but this was done merely as a decoy, to confound the press which often harangued her at airports. Same for forgoing her limousine. Limousines attract too much attention.

She found the last of the bottlenecks near the street exit and hid herself in that too, hiding as well, as she stood in the long line outside on the sidewalk with her coat collar up around her face, waiting for what seemed forever for a yellow taxi.

It wasn’t night yet. She was surprised to see some daylight tinting the evening sky. As always happened whenever she flew, she had lost all track of the time. There were stars speckling the black and blue of the sky and she noticed with some alarm that she would need her glasses to actually focus on them. Her glasses unfortunately were in her luggage with everything else. She pulled her suitcase behind her as the line moved. She was dog-tired, too tired to rummage for them now.

The line was moving nicely. She inched up, her eyes on the heavens and her stomach empty, wondering as she counted stars in the sky, if the maid had left her a dinner in the fridge for tonight. Helaine would have taken care of that for her if she had had the time. Today had been a hectic day, though, and probably phoning dinner requests to the maid was the last thing on Helaine’s mind.

The roar and whine of airplanes was incessant. She didn’t need glasses to watch them circling overhead in their landing and takeoff patterns. They looked like toys this close up, Lydia thought. Or like a flock of birds. Wasn’t it amazing that none of them collided?

“Lydia!”

The next cab was hers. She had nearly made it. The cab pulled up to the curb and the driver got out to assist her with her luggage.

“Lydia!”

She recognized that voice, though there was an unusual tone to it now, one she had never heard before. She approached the vehicle slowly and put her hand on the window, afraid to turn and reply.

“Beaumont!”

A reporter was standing near the car. “There she is,” he yelled.

“There she is! She’s over there! Ms. Beaumont, Ms. Beaumont!”

Ms. Beaumont stared at the ground and cursed. The cabby froze, holding her bags.

“Lydia!”

In hindsight Lydia should have known. It had been a perfect day. Too perfect a day. Even the weather had conspired to lull her into a false sense of security. Her mind raced and whirled with implausible reasons for Paula being at the airport, intercepting her at the airport.

“Lydia, come with… something’s…come with me.”

Reporters gathered around them, surrounded the car and the bewildered cabby. Paula held out her hand. Behind her Lydia glimpsed Dickie’s anxious face. Venus was flying today, Lydia suddenly recalled. Something had happened to–

“Lydia, please. Come quickly.”

“Venus…?”

Paula shook her head.

“Ms. Beaumont, have you heard the–”

“Fuck off,” Paula said, shoving a camera man backwards into the spectators. “Lydia, there’s been an ac–”

Cameras went off around her like a rocket brigade. Lydia lifted her arm to shield her face. “An…?”

“An accident.”

“No.”

“Yes, take my–”

“Ms. Beaumont! Ms. Beaumont! Did she call you from the plane? Ms. Beaumont! When was the last time you heard from her?”

“Paula?”

“Ms. Beaumont! Did you know that the plane–”

“Let me help you. Dickie and I are here to help. We have the chop–fuck off I said!”

“Hey, you can’t hit a repor–”

“Ms. Beaumont, won’t you make a statement?”

“She hit m–I’m–am I bleeding?”

“Oh, Paula–”