Kiss Mommy Goodbye (31 page)

“It was quite an afternoon, I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me.”

Donna smiled at the young girl who sat across from her in Doherty’s restaurant trying to put an entire pastrami sandwich inside her mouth in one gulp. Annie’s eyes were wide with a child’s curiosity. Day by day, a little at a time, the lines of the skeptic-beyond-her-years were beginning to disappear. Donna was feeling increasingly grateful she’d been given this second chance. She could see how much it meant to the child to be taken into her confidence, to share in the information of daily life, which meant she was an accepted part of that life.

“Well, the place never stops,” Donna continued. “I had no idea there were so many people in this neck of the woods who were so much in debt.”

“What does that mean?”

“They borrow money and then they have to pay it back,” Donna explained. Annie nodded comprehension. “And this Mr. Wendall is a real case. I think he borrowed a few brains from someone to get to his position, but then returned them too early.” Annie laughed. “He’s so slow—he moves like a snail. His appointments get all backed up. People sit and wait for hours. They keep bugging me about when will he be ready. I’m the one out front, so I take all the—”

“Shit?”

“Yeah. That’ll do. Thank you.” She laughed.

They both took bites of their sandwiches before Donna continued. “Well, this afternoon, things got really ridiculous. He must have had ten people out there waiting for him, including a few who didn’t have appointments. So, I kept buzzing him. No answer. I finally left my desk and went back to his office. He’s not there. Nobody’s there. I’m walking back to my desk, I hear this voice say, ‘Mrs. Cressy?’ I stopped; I looked around. Nobody. I’m just about to keep
walking, this voice says again, ‘Mrs. Cressy?’ So I said, ‘Mr. Wendall?’ And the voice says ‘yes.’ But he’s not anywhere around. Would you like to know where he was?”

The child was already giggling. “Where?”

“In the closet! He was hiding in the closet!” Donna shook her head in disbelief. “Apparently, one of the people who came in without an appointment was some woman he didn’t want to see. She’s always bugging him and has even been known to storm into the back offices looking for him. When he saw her come in, he made a beeline for the closet. He’d been standing in it for half an hour.”

“Did he come out?”

“Yes. And the minute he did, she burst through the door and cornered him. It was wonderful. I can’t wait till tomorrow to see what he does next.”

The child’s laughter subsided and her face grew serious. “Are you happy now, Donna?”

Donna looked at Annie with tender regard. “I’m getting there.”

“You like me better?”

“I like
myself
better. I’ve always liked you.”

Annie smiled. “Do you miss Adam and Sharon?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think about them a lot?”

“I try not to.”

Annie looked down at what was left of her sandwich, then up at Donna, then back at her plate. “You won’t leave again, will you?” she whispered.

Donna’s hand reached across the table and covered the child’s. She shook her head. “Who would help me choose my dresses if I did?”

“Seriously,” the child admonished.

Donna’s answer was appropriately solemn. “I’m here to stay, Annie.”

Annie’s face broke into a wide grin.

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Annie shook her head. “Not really. I just wanted to make sure you were really staying before I asked.”

“Asked what?”

“It’s about sex.”

“Sex?”

“Yes, you know.”

“Oh, yeah, sex. Sure, I know. What about it?”

Annie looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Well, I mean, my dad’s explained it and everything, and so has my mother. I know all about the penis and the vagina and things—” Donna tried to concentrate on Annie’s mouth, afraid that if she looked into the eyes of this earnest little girl that she would start to laugh. “What I don’t understand is how the penis gets into the vagina in the first place.”

“You want to know how the penis gets into the vagina?”

“And don’t tell me that the man and woman lie very close together because I already know that, and it doesn’t answer the question.”

It was Donna’s turn to look around and make sure no one was listening. “You have to have an answer for that right now? I mean, I don’t suppose you’d consider waiting till summer vacation and asking your mother?”

“You’re kind of my mother now too, aren’t you?”

Donna smiled broadly. “I love you, Annie,” she said.

“Will you tell me how the penis gets into the vagina? Does the man use his hands to push it in?”

Donna’s mind flooded with highly graphic visual images. She tried to answer honestly, without laughter or condescension. “Well, he could if he wanted to, I guess. It’s not necessary. You see, the penis fills up with fluid from the testicles. You know what the testicles are?”

“Of course.” Nothing like eight-year-old disdain, Donna thought.

“Well that fluid makes the penis hard—so the man can just—”

“Shove it in?”

“That about sums it up.” Donna took a long sip of water. “Does it hurt?”

Donna shook her head. “It feels nice.”

Annie looked around her, a flush of guilt creeping across her face. “I already knew all that,” she confessed after Donna had ordered her a chocolate sundae.

“You did? Then why did you ask?”

“I wanted to hear what you would say,” she answered slyly.

“Passed the test, did I?”

“That part about it feeling nice, though,” she added, ignoring Donna’s question, “I didn’t know that.” Long pause. “I love you, Donna.”

I passed the test, Donna thought wondrously, her eyes filling with tears. One down. How many more to go?

“You look fantastic.”

Donna did a well-practiced turn around the room. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous. That’s the dress Annie helped you buy?”

“She was terribly pleased with herself.”

Mel walked over to Donna and put his arms around her. “She did a good job.” They kissed.

“What are you going to wear?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you pick something out for me.”

“Okay.” Mel started toward the door. “Where are you going?” she asked.

“I promised Mrs. Harrison I’d adjust the fine tuner on the TV in time for the Saturday night movie.”

He started down the stairs. “Don’t take too long,” she called after him. “We’re the guests of honor, remember.”

“Be right back,” he called.

Donna did another turn in front of the mirror, satisfied herself that everything was where it should be and then walked over and sat on the bed, newly recovered in a soft blue-and-cream Laura Ashley print which matched the newly re-covered walls. Yes, everything seemed to be falling into place—the room, herself, her life. Everything was definitely where it should be. There were only two things missing, two things out of place. She stood up and looked at the clock. Seven
P.M.
—Mothers, do you know where your children are?

She walked to the dresser and picked up the brush she had purchased on her last outing to the hairdressers—just a few inches off, please. Nothing drastic. She began to furiously brush her hair, angry that she had allowed a glimmer of hope to invade her thoughts. She would not think about Adam and Sharon. She would not allow herself to get upset. Tonight was her engagement party. Donna Cressy—this is your life! she heard the announcer say, the horns blasting around her, the bells ringing triumphantly. Louder. Louder.

It was the phone. She wasn’t used to ringing anymore—
she was used to chimes. She walked over to the end table and picked it up. “Hello?”

“How’ve you been?”

She hadn’t expected him to call. Somehow, with her fresh resolve, she hadn’t prepared herself for his intervention. She was making a new life for herself—it didn’t—couldn’t—include his sadistic phone calls.

“Don’t call me anymore, Victor,” she said, about to hang up the phone.

“Donna, wait—there’s someone here I thought you might want to say hello to. Sharon, come on over here. There’s a lady here who wants to say hello.”

Donna could picture him holding up the phone in the child’s direction and while she wanted to slam the phone against his ear, she couldn’t move. My baby, she thought. I can talk to my baby. Maybe—She could hear the laughter of children playing, familiar sounds lingering in the background, filling the distance between them.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Victor’s voice said, returning unpleasantly to her ear. Involuntarily, she felt the tug of the fisherman’s line in her mouth—the fish realizing, too late, as always, that it has swallowed the bait—felt the hook ripping down her cheek as she tried to wriggle free. He had done it again. So effortlessly. As always.

Donna steadied herself against the bed. “Don’t call me anymore, Victor,” she said feeling her mouth fill up with blood, finally shaking loose of the predator’s hook, lowering the phone swiftly back into place. Everything now back in place.

When Mel came bounding up the stairs seconds later, she was sitting quietly on the bed.

“I picked up the extension,” he explained, moving toward her.

“He won’t call anymore.”

“Are you all right?”

She nodded.

“What happened to your mouth? It’s bleeding!”

He grabbed a Kleenex and hurried over to the foot of the bed.

Donna moved her tongue around in her cheek. “I bit on the inside of my mouth,” she said. “It’s all right. It doesn’t hurt.”

“You feel like screaming and kicking your feet?”

Donna took the Kleenex from Mel’s outstretched hand and wiped at the side of her lips. “No,” she said standing up.

“It would be all right if you did, Donna. It would only be natural—”

“I’m all right,” Donna said numbly, her mind still on the phone call. Then she stood up and walked toward Mel’s closet to get him something to wear.

They were all congratulating her, coming over to her and kissing her on both cheeks, shaking her hands, smiling warmly, complimenting her on her dress, her hair, her appearance. You look beautiful, their voices echoed. Donna was only vaguely aware of them.

“Donna, wait—there’s someone here I thought you might want to say hello to. Sharon, come over here. There’s a lady here who wants to say hello.”

Damn you, Victor; she thought, trying to fight the anger, to force it down beneath her toes where she could
suffocate it with her foot. I will not let you spoil any more parties. I will not think about you.

Sharon.

Adam.

My babies.

“Congratulations, Donna. You look marvelous.”

“Oh. Oh, thank you.”

“You’re getting a good man.”

“Yes. Yes. I know.”

The sound of children playing.

“Congratulations.”

Something else.

“Hasn’t anyone told these people that they’re not supposed to congratulate the woman? Only the man. He’s supposed to be the lucky one to have found you.”

Donna looked over at her hostess, who had just finished speaking. Bessie Milford was a nice lady. Her husband Rod was a nice man. It was very sweet of them to host an engagement party for her and Mel, especially after the way she had acted at the last party she had attended here. Donna looked toward the balcony, remembering that last party. There was no redhead present tonight, however. Just a small gathering of their close mutual friends. A shame Donna couldn’t join them, she thought, her mind fastening, despite her attempts at denial, on earlier events.

Something else. The sound of children playing. And something else.

Something familiar.

“Donna, are you all right?”

Donna turned to see her friend Susan. “Fine,” she said, absently.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”

“You just look like you’re in another room, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re not here. Where are you?”

“What time is it, Susan?”

Susan checked her watch. “Nine o’clock. Ten after, actually. Why? You have a cake in the oven?”

“He called at seven.”

“Who called?”

“He called at seven and said the children were playing.”

“Victor called?”

“He held the phone up for me to hear.”

“Was it Victor who called?”

“What were they doing up at seven o’clock playing?

“Sharon is always in bed, lights out and everything, by seven o’clock. Victor’s a fanatic about it.”

Susan said nothing.

“Unless it wasn’t seven o’clock.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Unless it was a different time zone.”

“The West Coast?”

The sound of children playing. And something else.

Something familiar.

Donna moved away from Susan and over toward the patio doors. “Could we open these, please?” she asked.

Mel was suddenly at her side. “Need some air, honey?”

The doors parted like the Red Sea, she thought, stepping out onto the sun-colored tile and leaning forward against the black wrought-iron railing.

Something familiar.

She stared into the darkness. There were no stars out tonight. The weathermen were predicting a sixty percent chance of rain for the next morning. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there—the ocean, roaring its continuing disapproval of the approaching inclement weather. She didn’t have to see it to feel its presence, know its powers. Background. And yet, much more than mere background. So much a part of one after a while to be almost taken for granted, indistinguishable from the air. Yet stronger than the air. A life force.

A force that was capable of propelling itself through a phone wire over a distance of three thousand miles. The familiar sound. The something else. The ocean.

She turned to Mel, who was now standing beside her. “They’re in California,” she said.

Annie sat beneath the yellow canopy above her bed and stared vacantly ahead of her. She refused to look at Donna, speaking when she spoke at all, only to her father.

“It’s just for four weeks, Annie,” Donna repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. “If we don’t turn up anything at the end of four weeks, we come home, I promise.” Annie said nothing. Donna continued, fighting back the tears, trying hard to reach her. “This has nothing to do with my love for you. Do you understand that?” She knelt in front of the child. “I love you, Annie. I really love you. You’re my little girl.”