Play Dates (48 page)

Things like double weddings, particularly where both brides are sisters, don’t often happen in real life. It’s the stuff of Restoration comedy. Dennis and I exchange glances. “Well . . .”

I begin, completely unsure of how my sentence will end.

“Well, not as soon as September,” Dennis tells Zoë, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened eventually.”

How can he sound so matter-of-fact, when my heart has just leaped out of my chest and landed on the counter next to the pancake batter?

“Would you like that?” he adds, speaking directly to her.

“Yes,” she says, dragging out the word. “Can we have
real
maple syrup with the pancakes? The one in the can that looks like a house? I don’t like the kind in the plastic bottle.”

I wonder at what stage in our lives, or at what age, “really big stuff” becomes “really big stuff.” There’s much more than a generation gap between myself and my seven-year-old daughter.

There’s a reaction gap. “I didn’t hear you asking if
I’d
like that,”

I say to the bacon fryer.

“Any objections?” he asks, kissing my nose. I shake my head.

“We’re getting there,” he whispers in my ear. His lips graze my neck. It tickles. “I definitely think we’re getting there.”

“Careful,” I warn, my voice low enough for Zoë not to hear.

“I hate nasty surprises.”

“Not to worry. I don’t anticipate any. Now, how about fresh-squeezed orange juice? That’s a perfect way to start a Sunday.”

I look at the two loves of my life, so at peace with things, so at ease around each other, like they’ve been doing it for the past seven and a half years, and not just for the last few months. A year ago, could I have imagined this? I think not.

“I’ve got an appointment with Laura Sloan over at Barneys tomorrow,” I tell Dennis, deciding it’s time to change the sub-PLAY DATES

371

ject. “I’m showing her all three collections, including the kids’

stuff and the Mommy and Me jewelry.”

“That calls for a celebration,” he says. “What do you say I take you to dinner afterwards?”

“Me, too?” Zoë asks.

“Tell you what,” Dennis proposes, “how about I take
you
out for a celebration today and I’ll take your Mommy out for a post-Barneys dinner tomorrow?”

“Where will you take me?” Zoë demands.

“I don’t know . . . I didn’t really think about that yet. Where would you like to go? I understand you like to play with worms, so how about the natural history museum? Or maybe the planetarium? How does that sound?”

“My daddy takes me to the planetarium.”

This is a collective uh-oh. The room falls silent for a few moments.

“Oh. Well, then maybe that should be your special place that you go to with your daddy,” Dennis says diplomatically. “We’ll think up some other place to go.”

“It’s okay . . . I guess you could take me to the planetarium, too,” Zoë replies, as if she’s doing Dennis a favor.

“Then maybe we’ll do that someday,” he says, giving her all the space she needs for such an excursion to become her own idea, if ever. And if not, that’s okay, too. “I don’t know about you, Zoë, but I have a real craving for something sweet.”

“We’re having pancakes,” she says helpfully.

“That’s true. But I was thinking jelly beans. And gummi bears.

And red licorice. And caramels.” The way he lets each sweet roll off his tongue, he’s making my mouth water. “I don’t know if you’re interested—maybe you’re not—in coming with me to Dylan’s Candy Bar this afternoon.”

Zoë lights up like Times Square. “Ooh, yeah! Can we?

Mommy, can I go to Dylan’s Candy Bar with Fireman Dennis

372

Leslie Carroll

this afternoon and then you can go out to dinner with him tomorrow?”

I pretend to consider it. “I think that would be all right.”

She actually says “Yippee!” and bounces around the breakfast nook as though she’s on her invisible pogo stick.

“How about calming down a bit, huh? You’re acting like you’re already on a sugar high.” I reach for the phone. “I’ll call Annabel, and see if she can sit tomorrow night. I don’t think she’s headed off to Italy yet.” Annabel plans to spend half the summer on a backpacking tour in Tuscany. She’s been studying Italian at home with an interactive CD-ROM.

“You know, there’s a chance there may be nothing to celebrate,” I tell Dennis, as I wait for the call to connect. “Laura Sloan might not offer me a contract.”

“There
is
that possibility,” Dennis admits, “but it doesn’t change the need for a celebration. Look how much you’ve accomplished in just a couple of months! We’re celebrating
you
, Claire.”

How cool is that? I feel a blush spread from the apples of my cheeks all the way into my hairline.

The following morning, as I pass Zoë’s bedroom door, I overhear her telling Wendy, her imaginary friend, all about her trip to Dylan’s yesterday. “You couldn’t go because Dennis doesn’t know you very well yet,” she informs Wendy. “But you could share some of my Jelly Bellies.”

I knock on the door. “Hey, Z. I have a question for you.” She looks up, somewhat confused. What could Mommy possibly need to know that she, Zoë, would have the answer to? “I was wondering if you’d like to come with me to Barneys this morning. That is . . . of course, unless you’d rather go straight to Lissa’s house.”

She scrambles to her feet. “I can go with you?”

I nod.

PLAY DATES

373

“Really?”

“Really. After all, some of the jewelry designs were your idea.

What do you say?” Zoë scampers over to me and throws her arms around my waist. “You’re welcome.”

I remind her that she’ll have to act very grown-up during our excursion, and she practically bounces off the furniture in an overzealous effort to choose the perfect ensemble. “This is going to be
so
fun!” We select an outfit for her and she compliments my own choice of wardrobe, which is a big deal for both of us, since she’s so judgmental about everything I wear.

“I’m so glad you let me get dressed without you.”

“Well, you look fun today. More like MiMi. So it’s okay. Oh, can MiMi come with us, too?”

“MiMi’s got her own plans today, sweetie. She and Owen are going to pick out her engagement ring. Besides, I thought this might be something we could enjoy together. Just the two of us.” I call Melissa Arden to see if I can bring Zoë over for her play date with Lissa a bit later than we’d previously scheduled.

Melissa tells me it won’t be a problem, they’ll be home all day, and they wish us both good luck at Barneys.

I introduce Zoë to Laura Sloan and explain that some of the concepts for the kids’ jewelry were hers. Our meeting is going very well. Laura thinks it’s neat that I brought my daughter with me. “You’re really very entrepreneurial, Claire, and that sets a good example for her.” Then she tells me that Nina Osborne has high praise for me—as a designer, as a mom, and as a person. I try very hard to disguise my surprise over the source of such compliments. “Oh, yes,” Laura says, as I realize I haven’t been able to mask it at all, “she told me how you ran up to the roof of the school and saved Xander’s life.”

“She
helped
save him,” Zoë corrects, interrupting Laura. “Fireman Dennis and his friends
actually
saved Xander. And Fireman Dennis saved
Mommy
, too. And now he’s her boyfriend.”

374

Leslie Carroll

Laura’s hand flies to her heart. “Ohh, that is so sweet. Is that true?” I smile sheepishly.

“And they might even get married one day soon and I’d have a new daddy. Well, I’d still have my old daddy because he’s my real daddy, but—”

Gently, I place my hand on Zoë’s knee. “I think Laura gets it,”

I whisper to her.

“So,” Laura says, ready to change the subject and get back to business, “I love your designs. They’re whimsical, original, well made. The only question I have for you is how fast can you make them?”

“She’s
really
fast!” Zoë tells her. If she doesn’t decide to be an astronaut when she grows up, my daughter could have a real future as an agent.

I explain how much time it makes to craft each piece, assuming I’m giving it my full attention, and don’t have to stop what I’m doing to attend to some domestic emergency or put it aside for eight hours while I go off to work at the museum.

“Well, the point is for you not to have to go back to the museum,” Laura says. “The jewelry design should be your job. Not your job—your
career
. And as long as you can deliver the pieces on schedule, it’s none of Barneys’ business when you complete them. So your time is as flexible as you need it to be. Based on everything you’ve shown me today I’m prepared to offer you a contract.”

My cheeks grow warm and my eyes begin to water. “That’s . . .

that’s wonderful!” I can hardly believe the good news.

“There’s something else I want you to consider. We’re not stupid or naïve. We know that there are other high-end department stores and hundreds of boutiques in New York which you could interest in your designs. Barneys, of course, enjoys a certain cachet and our customers welcome its exclusivity when it comes to a number of the goods and services and products we offer them. So, we’re prepared to offer
you
a sweet-enough deal PLAY DATES

375

financially, provided that Claire Marsh Originals are sold only at Barneys.”

It sounds fantastic. But I don’t know enough about the business world to figure out if this is really the best deal I can get.

Something inside me says,
Don’t jump at the first chance
.
They
know you’re green and they know you’re hungry.
“You’ll give me all of this in writing, won’t you?” I ask Laura.

“I’ve got it right here,” she says, opening the manila folder on her desk. She hands me an unsigned contract.

Clearly, if Laura fell in love with my designs, they had the paperwork all set to go. The numbers look good. This should indeed mean that I can give the Metropolitan Museum my notice.

It’s all very exciting. Still, I wasn’t born yesterday and I know that their contract has been drawn up to inure to Barneys’ benefit. I think it’s a good idea to get a professional opinion before signing my name. “I’d like to review this with my business manager,” I tell Laura, knowing I’ll probably dial Owen from my cell phone as soon as Zoë and I are back on Madison Avenue.

Laura stands and extends her hand to me. “Of course. It’s not a problem. If you can get back to me by the beginning of next week, though, I’d appreciate it. And . . . I look forward to doing business with you. So . . . is there anything else you’d like to ask me before you go?”

“
I
have a question,” Zoë says. “Why is your store named for a dinosaur?”

“Hey, hey, no running on ahead,” I caution Zoë, as we head for the exit. Every little thing on the main floor catches her eye, particularly the jewelry displays.

“I want to see if it’s as good as yours is, Mommy.” I catch up with her and clasp her hand. “You could make stuff like that if you wanted to. Easy. But your jewelry is a lot prettier.”

I’ve got a contract in my purse, a flexible new career, a happy child, a man who adores me, a sister who’s finally in a fulfilling

376

Leslie Carroll

relationship after at least thirteen years of bad luck, and a pair of parents who still enjoy communicating with each other. The air in midtown Manhattan suddenly smells sweet and the sky is the saturated shade of turquoise-blue you see only in digitally enhanced picture postcards and Magritte paintings.

“Zoë, would you like to go on a play date with me? Right now?”

She beams at me. “Yeah! Where?”

“We’re just a block or so from the Plaza Hotel,” I tell her.

“How ’bout we go have lunch with Eloise?”

Being New York, no one even pauses to notice two blondes, one a miniature version of the other, holding hands and actually
skipping
toward Fifth Avenue.

Want More?

Turn the page to enter

Avon's Little Black Book —

the dish, the scoop and the

cherry on top from

LESLIE CARROLL

Avon

’s Little Black Book

Celebrity Magazine: Who’s Hot

This month,
Celebrity
freelance writer Leslie Carroll contributes

to our “Who’s Hot” column, profiling Claire Marsh, jewelry designer to the stars.

Dateline: Hollywood, California.

Sometime in the near future.

The pre-Oscar buzz this year isn’t about who will take home the coveted golden statuettes. Richard Dreyfuss and Alec Bald-win appear to be locks in their respective categories, Madonna is a surefire shoo-in for Best Director for her own biopic, Meryl Streep is looking to break all Academy records for number of awards taken home—she must have several sets of bookends by now—and a newcomer named Alice Finnegan (who used to be a legal secretary) is the odds-on favorite to win the Best Actress nod for her remarkably brave portrayal of an adulterous prostitute opposite tall, dark, and hunky heart-throb Jon Santos.

Here in tinseltown, the talk is all about the tinsel itself that will accessorize the glitterati on the red carpet and in the plushy seats of the Kodak Theatre. With near-meteoric speed, jewelry maven Claire Marsh has rocketed her way into the hearts and homes of Hollywood’s A-list celebs. They can’t seem to get enough of the young designer’s unique creations. Nicole Kid-man, in fact, was photographed for a recent cover of
Vanity Fair
clad in nothing but Claire Marsh Originals, as the baubles’ line is known.

We caught up with Claire—and her young daughter Zoë—in their spacious home in Manhattan, overlooking Central Park.

CELEBRITY:
First of all, thanks for meeting with us this afternoon.

MARSH:
Not at all, I’m always delighted to talk to the press.

CELEBRITY:
I have to say that I’m surprised that all this
Hollywood hype hasn’t induced you to chuck it all and
move out there.