Lauren Takes Leave (31 page)

Jodi disconnects and looks at us, eyes tired. “I have to
keep lying about this! Concocting new webs! It’s going to drive me insane, I
tell you.” She takes a deep breath. “I mean, it’s one thing to lie for
pleasure. It’s another thing entirely to lie out of necessity.”

“So tell the truth,” I venture.

“Ha,” she responds, not even hesitating to consider the
possibility. “The truth, meaning that I’m here with you? Lauren, even if I
wanted to talk truth, I don’t see how that’s even possible without dragging
you
into a boatload of shit.”

Except that Doug already knows. Maybe. Some of it. All of
it?

Then she stands and stretches, reaching for her bag.
“Well, I guess I better get going.”

“By yourself?” I say. “No way. We’re all for one and one
for all.”

Kat nods. “The Three Musketeers take Miami’s Golden Girls.”

“Where are Lenny and Tim?” Jodi asks. We do our best to
explain the conversation we had with Tim and how it led to a guy-only talk.

“You were inquisitioning him?” Jodi asks, horrified.

“That’s one way to put it,” I counter.

“Hey, guys?” Kat calls down to the beach from our spot
along the path, catching Lenny and Tim’s attention. “We’re off!”

“Where are we going?” Tim calls back.

“The hotel?” Lenny guesses, their voices coming closer.

“
We?
” Kat and I ask in unison.

“Nope. Hebrew Home for the Aged!” Jodi yells.

The guys have jogged up from the beach and are panting
slightly when they reach us. “At least, Kat and Jodi and I are going there. You
don’t have to come with us.” I look at Tim, in particular, while saying this
last part. It’s one thing to take Tim slumming at the Clevelander. It’s another
monster entirely to drag him to the bedside of a dead nonagenarian.

Tim seems to agree. He hesitates, then looks sideways at
Lenny.

Lenny puts an arm around Tim and pulls him close in what
looks like an act of either aggression or camaraderie. It’s hard to tell which.

“Of course we’re coming!
Right,
Tim?” Lenny says.

Tim struggles a bit under Lenny’s grip and produces a
tight smile. “Sure! Love it! Sounds like a blast.”

“Such a good guy, that Tim Cubix,” Kat sighs, watching him
shake some sand of his pants and disappear inside the now-deserted club. Lenny
and I sigh right along with her.

“Yeah,” Lenny agrees, a hint of chill in his tone.
“Unique, that one.”

“Hey, I’ve always wanted to solve the Rubix Cube!” the
cabdriver says, cracking himself up. Tim winks theatrically at us as Jodi gives
the address.

“I’m just warning you: it’s not that nice a place,” Jodi
offers, probably as an advanced apology to Tim. “I mean, it wasn’t my grandma’s
home or anything. She just had to move there last year, after her mind started
to really crumble.” Tears well up in her eyes again. “Before that, she lived in
this sweet little apartment overlooking the bay. I used to love spending
Christmas vacations there with her.”

I put one arm around Jodi and try to comfort her. “Jo,” I
say, “you have to know that none of this is your fault. Don’t feel guilty.”

Kat hands Jodi a mini packet of Kleenex from the depths of
her man-pockets. She never carries a purse but still manages to have on her a
surprisingly stocked bar of requisite womanly paraphernalia, producing lipstick,
breath mints, or Visine like a magician doing sleight of hand.

“Yeah,” Kat says. “There’s no shame to be had, just
because you said you’d visit your grandmother but you didn’t and instead hung
out all night drinking with
It
magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive of both 1997
and 2002, then she died the next morning with no family there beside her.”

“Not helping,” Lenny stage whispers across the cab as Jodi
starts wailing.

“Sorry, Jo. I’m terrible at sympathy. This is why I wasn’t
a good kindergarten teacher!”

“As your next career, I wouldn’t consider undertaking,
then.” Tim smiles.

“Maybe tax collector?” Lenny asks. “Dentist?”

“Maybe everyone should just shut up,” Kat barks back.

“Good times, people. Good times,” I joke. “Let’s keep it
light. We’re in Miami, after all.”

“With my grandmother!” Jodi adds. “Who is actually really
dead!” She stops crying and looks out the window. Turning back after a moment,
she stares at me, wide-eyed. “Lauren. I am never going to tell another lie for
as long as I live.”

I bite my tongue so as not to say something rude, like,
I
think you just told one right now
, and instead take her hand in mine.
“Okay, Jo. That’s a big statement to make. But I know what you mean.” Among all
the other lies floating around the Moncrieff home, I think of Jodi’s cash-back
habit and wonder if she can really live in complete fiscal honesty with Lee,
working within the true budget of their finances.

It’s possible. I mean, in the past twenty-four hours, I’ve
learned a thing or two about myself that I don’t particularly like either.
There are definitely some things I’m going to try and change when I get back to
New York. So, if I can do that, maybe Jodi can, too.

I smile at her sort of crookedly. “I’ll help you do your
best if you help me do mine.”

“No lying,” she states.

“No cheating,” I add.

“No flirting on the side,” Lenny adds.

“No more psychic hotlines!” Kat hoots.

“No more alter egos!” Tim declares.

“Whatever, Lex Sheridan,” Jodi jokes, smiling for the
first time all morning.

The cab pulls up a circular driveway and stops in front of
an institutional-looking, white concrete façade. A few sad palm trees frame the
peeling columns out front. Jodi sighs.

We all pile out into the now-bright, humid sunshine. Lenny
goes around to the driver’s window with some cash.

“Hey, MC Lenny!” he says. “Love your YouTube videos.” He
takes the cash before they shake hands. “It’s a real honor!”

The driver honks and waves at us as he pulls around the
circle and out onto the street.

Lenny turns to Tim. “That was weird, right? Being
recognized, first by you and now that guy?”

Tim shakes his head. “Nah, man. Better start getting used
to it. Your work is already known…and I got big plans for you.”

Kat and I exchange bemused eyebrow raises. Then we escort
Jodi through the electronic, hospital-like doors and into the frigid
air-conditioning of the old age home.

“Hi-yyy,” Jodi purrs halfheartedly to the receptionist.
“I’m Sonia Goldberg’s granddaughter. She…” Jodi makes elaborate gestures with
her hands to denote
moved into the great beyond without me by her side
.

The receptionist jumps up quickly, sparing Jodi the need
to explain any further. “Of course! Follow me this way.”

She motions our group to a set of double swinging doors
off to the left of the lobby, only then looking from face to face.

“Are…all of you…
relatives
…of the deceased?” She
pauses on Tim.

“Why, yes, ma’am, yes we are.” Tim nods and tips his hat,
southern charm and con man all in one. He turns to us and smiles, giving a look
that says:
Watch and learn, people. This is how you excel at daytime
television and suck the blood from unsuspecting New York mobsters while playing
a superhero. This is how you get through those double doors.
Nice and
easy, with a little swagger.

The receptionist pauses and gives an uncertain grin in return.
“My,” she says, unable to utter more than one syllable in the presence of such
infamous hotness.

I plaster a fake smile on my face and smooth down my hair.
Kat tries to appear taller. Jodi begins wailing full force, as Lenny comforts
her, saying, “There, there, cous’. I know just how you feel.”

The doors swing on their hinges, and we have made it
through to the other side. Covert high fives follow all around.

I pat Tim on the back. “I think you almost earned a third
Oscar nod just then.”

He winks and tips his hat again, mimicking his actions
almost exactly from a moment ago. “Aw, shucks, ma’am, it was nothin’.”

“I can’t believe I already broke my resolution to stop
lying,” Jodi complains. “That crying was complete bullshit.”

She leads us around a corner and into a room shrouded in
darkness. A frail figure rests there, outlined under the thin white sheet. In
the dim light, I can make out some old photographs in gilt frames on the
bedside table, of a young woman dancing. Each image finds her in a different
costume, from a dramatic ball gown to a fringed flapper dress. This must have
been Jodi’s grandma. In the largest photograph, she poses with a handsome man
who must have been her husband.

In the corner of the room sits a huge basket of oranges,
still wrapped in cellophane and tied with a bow.

Then the real tears come.

I know it’s not nice of me, but while Jodi and the Hebrew
Home’s staff are discussing next steps for the body, I slip into the deceased
grandma’s bathroom and freshen up. Under the sink, I find individually wrapped
soaps and a few packages of denture-safe toothbrushes. The only eye drops I
find are prescription ones for glaucoma, and I decide not to risk it. In the
absence of deodorant, I find Gold Bond talcum powder and rub it under my arms.

It is decided that we will eat breakfast while Jodi’s
grandma is being “prepared” or whatever.

“What happens now?” I ask, as we exit the building and
stand around uncertainly.

“I don’t know,” Jodi admits. “I guess my mom will take
care of it all from here. I better call her.”

We start walking down the circular drive and, at the main
road, turn left. The staff suggested we dine at a Denny’s about a half a block
up, which had gotten Tim all excited.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate in a Denny’s!” he says
again, as we approach the huge yellow-and-red sign.

“No way, mom!” Jodi shouts into the phone. We are about to
enter the restaurant. Kat has her hand on the handle and gives me a look asking
what should I do
? I shrug in return. She moves back from the door and we
decide to wait it out in the parking lot, since Jodi’s phone call has gotten
increasingly louder.

“That’s…gross!” she complains. “I’m
sorry
I’m not
being
mature
enough for you, mother, but…really…I don’t see why I have
to be the one to escort her home! All by myself!”

Lenny coughs loudly.

This is followed by silence as Jodi listens to the
response and shakes her head back and forth. Then she speaks again. “Fine. Just
remember what happened when I had to dissect a frog in sixth grade. That’s all I’m
saying.” Then she hangs up and looks at us staring at her. “What?”

Tim is the only one brave enough to approach Jodi,
probably because he doesn’t know any better, having only met her yesterday.
“You okay?” he tries.

“Oh, don’t use any of your smooth southern acting charm on
me
!” she spits. Tim’s eyes go wide as she continues. “This was supposed
to be a little
vacation
for me, you know. Some time off from my family.
But now, that’s all a
fantasy
. Because, now I have to make sure my
grandma is packed in
dry ice
so that I can take her back to
New York
with me…later today!”

“Sucks to be her,” Kat whispers.

“Sucks to be
her
?” I ask Kat, annoyed. “You mean,
it sucks to be
us
. I have news for you, Kat. This is Sympathy 101 and
you’re now enrolled. We’re all flying back with her.”

Kat looks over her shoulder, to where Jodi and Tim are
talking it out. “You mean…party’s over?”

“’Fraid so.” I nod. “Time to deal.”

Breakfast is a solemn affair as everyone slumps further
into his or her own contemplative shell. There is little of the joking,
fun-wheeling aura of last night. Four hours of sleep can do that to you. So can
guilt, remorse, confusion, and possession of a corpse.

I notice Lenny staring at me over a pile of pancakes, and
I squirm against the pleather banquette. “What?” I blurt.

Everyone jumps at the sound. Lenny pulls his lips in
tight, and cocks his head to the side, studying me. “It’s just…you look
different than you did yesterday. Like…less angry,” he decides.

Less angry?

Jodi pipes in, stabbing the air with a fork full of
sausages. “He’s right! And…your eyes look bigger!”

“Are you guys messing with me?” I ask, scanning their
faces for signs of irony.

“Huh,” Kat says. “It’s like…your forehead or something is
different. Maybe you slept funny?”

I did sleep funny all right.

But wait, did Kat say…my forehead? I start to smile and am
about to tell them my about my “secret” doctor’s appointment from Tuesday. It
will feel so good to share the news. And to think, it’s actually working!
People are noticing!

Tim winks at me and interjects before I can speak. “Um,
ladies and gents, I think that’s what we in Hollywood would call Botox.”

“No!” Kat and Jodi say in unison. I plaster a big fake
grin on my face in response, trying to hide my embarrassment at being called
out.

“Yeah, yeah, I did it,” I admit. “So…how do I look,
really?”

Kat, Jodi and I head to the bathroom, where I try to
inspect my forehead in the lousy fluorescent lighting.

“Huh,” I say, looking closely. It really is pleasantly
smooth and wrinkle free. My eyes do seem to have opened up a bit, probably
because the skin above and around my brow has tightened and raised.

“It’s a miracle!” I cheer. “I love this stuff!” I’m
totally converted to the dark side now. Looks like I’ll be tutoring quite a bit
in order to feed my injectables habit.

Jodi pats me on the back and reminds me that she’s four
years younger than me. “But eventually, if I ever start looking as bad as you
did, I’ll get the name of your guy,” she concedes.