The Idea of Him (28 page)

Witherspoon grabbed his coat and me as we flew out the door. “Wouldn't think of it, Frank!” He seemed awfully eager to see that Jackie Malone.

Epilogue

Philadelphia's preppiest stores whooshed by the windows so fast I could hardly make them out—J. Crew, Talbots, the Christmas Store, Tiffany—as the assistant D.A. sped us through Philadelphia's downtown traffic.

I leaned into the front seat and yelled at Witherspoon, “You know, we're going to make it before the graduation ceremony; no need to kill someone the day they finally get their studies over with.”

“I'm aiming to get you there quick, and get you there in one piece. The main green of the Wharton Business School is through those gates. Right off Jon M. Huntsman Hall.” Something told me this speedy delivery service wasn't just for my sake. He slammed on the brakes, and with all the quick starts and dodging of cars and humans, I almost lost my breakfast. “I'll park and run right over.”

From the left side of the car, I heard a crowd cheer, and my heart sank. “I think we just missed it—literally we just missed the whole graduation. Look.”

Before us, through pink dogwood trees and federal architecture that lined the university side of the street, thousands of graduation caps flew up in the air, remained suspended for the briefest of seconds at the peak of their flight, then fell back to the ground, never to find the hands that launched them.

“Damn, I'll never know where she is now.” I raced out of the SUV and into the maelstrom of celebratory students and teachers and parents, hugging one another in that sloppy way people do when they're relieved it's finally all over. I can't say my own emotions were so different.

After ten minutes of frenzied searching through a throng of families on the U Penn graduate school lawn, I located Jackie's mother, Barbara. She was marching around in a bright peach-colored dress and matching Easter hat, her messy gray hair framing her beaming smile.

“Allie, so nice of you to come. Jackie told me all you've done to help her out. It's been a quite a spring for her.” Her glowing face and strong build made her come off as tough on the outside, but her kind eyes belied that. I wondered how she felt about Jackie's discovery that Murray was the father all along.

“I'm sure a lot of her determination meant it was quite a spring for you as well.”

She put her hand on my arm. “I think it's safe to say whether it's another big diploma or anything that girl needs to know, she's going to do whatever it takes till she gets there.” She shook her head. “She was always the most stubborn child in the sandbox and had tantrums you couldn't imagine.”

That characteristic must have come from her father; only he never outgrew the sandbox behavior.

Jackie strolled up next to her mother as if she'd just conquered the world. “Mom, gimme a minute with Allie. Girl talk.” Only Jackie could make a graduation robe look sexy and adorable: she'd belted it and had a silk ruffled blouse underneath that opened up perfectly to reveal just a touch of her cleavage.

“Sure, hon.” Barbara winked as she went over to a group of Jackie's professors.

“Jackie. I get it now,” I told her softly.

“You sure? All of it?” she asked. “They found you?”

“Yes, some of your acquaintances came to take me to their lovely offices downtown.”

“Yeah, lovely and clean and so fresh smelling. I know them well. They told me they were going to do that any day. Hope they didn't scare you. I wasn't allowed to call you, so I couldn't have done anything to warn you.”

“And they explained that you were right on everything. I mean, you were telling me the truth.” I took off my glasses to look her in the eye. “And that you were, as you said, helping me, watching out for me, all the while, I guess, also figuring out some bigger things for yourself.” My voice cracked and she hugged me tight.

“Yeah,” Jackie whispered in my ear. “I wasn't going to give up on the men screwing everyone over for their own gain. And once I had Murray by the balls, I knew I could get the proof with a DNA test. I just had to know. And the whole time the feds promised me it wasn't Wade or Murray they cared about, so I just kept pushing.”

We broke the embrace but stood inches from each other. “Murray seems overwhelmed by finally finding you. Pretty shook up, but in a good way. Hopefully, it'll change him somehow.”

“You think Murray Hillsinger will change ever? You don't think that big personality is set in stone?” she asked, incredulous I could even suggest such a thing.

“Put it this way,” I countered. “I think he's visibly humbled. We'll see where that takes him.”

Jackie took me over to an iron bench, sitting down and crossing her beautiful legs. She sat so close to me, our knees touched, and she told me, “I always suspected something between him and my mom, but once I had the evidence I could finally confront her with the goods. She said she was too proud to make him pony up when they had agreed she'd keep me and not involve him. In her world, women take care of problems by themselves.”

“Until you made it difficult for him to ignore the so-called problem, I guess.”

“Until I felt old enough and strong enough to take matters into my own hands.”

“Thank you for watching out for me in the process, Jackie—you clearly had bigger things to deal with.”

“You're welcome.” She smiled, as if it were the most natural way to have behaved through this mess.

“What are you going to do with Murray now?” I asked.

She played with the tassels on her graduation cap in her lap and thought for a moment. “I don't know. I guess we start fresh. I mean, he doesn't have money to give us, and neither my mom nor I really want it. I just wanted to know. And he's going away for a few months so I have some time to figure out if I want any relationship at all.”

“You might, you know. Now that I think about it, you're kind of like each other.”

“How?” This intrigued her.

“Well, safe to say you're both pretty dogged and aggressive.” I couldn't help but wonder if table manners might be genetic, too.

“Yeah, maybe we have some things in common, but I may not reach out. He's never been there, so I don't expect him to be now. It's just good to know is all.” She bit her lip to hide an emotion she wasn't yet able to verbalize, then smacked her knees with both hands as if to help her snap out of it and added, “We've made it this far without him.”

“Yeah, well, you might feel you need your dad now that you know who he is. Nothing bad about having a dad.” My eyes stung at saying that.

“I know that. It's one day at a time for now.” She gave me a short, but very warm hug, and then pushed me away suddenly in excitement. “Hey! We've got other things to talk about! What about the festival? Are you in?”

“Hate to admit it, Jackie, but it just might work. Right away when I heard the news I thought
how natural,
we could really make this happen. I think the writer in me will help me pick the best films that really touch people, and the smooth operator in you is going to make the right business decisions.”

She touched my arm. “Yeah, at least Murray figured
that
out. It was his idea to put us together as a team, not that he had the choice.”

“Jackie, I swear I'm done judging, but when you look back at this whole crazy experience, what do you think? Is there something you would have done differently to get yourself here?” I gestured toward the ivy-laced benches and brick buildings with white colonial trim around us. “It's remarkable you got this degree under these circumstances, so don't misunderstand. I admire so much about you. It was just, I don't know, it was an unusual path, let's say that.”

She thought for a moment. “I was intent on taking care of my mom. And I could argue that all these men were using other people a lot more than they were using me. At least I called the shots and got highly compensated and found out everything I needed to know about my real father.”

I thought about how young and old and male and female Jackie was at the same time. “You want to promise me something?” I asked her, putting my arm tight around her. “Be ruthless with the Excel sheets at the festival and make sure we're always solvent, but in your personal life, maybe be a little less ruthless. Call me nuts, but maybe you could just go out on a limb a little and find a real boyfriend or something.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Allie Crawford is giving me relationship advice?”

“Well, I'm stating the obvious.” I rolled my eyes over at Witherspoon, who was leaning against a tree about forty feet away, waiting for her to give him some attention; throwing any bone his way would have clearly made the guy's day. “You know I'm right.”

She waved to Witherspoon, who gave her an overeager wave and smiled at her.

“He's kind of cute, that one,” I went on. “He had nice things to say about you, couldn't stop praising you. I wondered about that.”

“Well, I tried not to act too
boy crazy
during the investigation while I was chastising you for doing just that.” She smiled a girlish grin back at him and then whispered to me, “You know, I just might sample that federal merchandise. But I want you to act on two bits of my advice for once.”

“I'm listening, and I in fact always do what you say.”

“I'd say you listen to me, but you don't act on it.” She squinted at me, challenging me. “What about this: when you're not picking films, write like the wind.”

“You already told me that, Jackie. And I was trying to do that, in the midst of a few other things going down.”

She leaned into me. “You're at this turning point in your life, and it's definitely a story worth telling. You're going to bleed the truth now. Your screenplay is going to be fantastic.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. You've been looking for a breakthrough, and the whole time your screenplay has been right in front of you. You don't need Tommy to help you anymore.”

“You never know how life will bring people together, but I am going to try to just concentrate on my kids and my writing and that's it. Lord knows it all might just work, now that I'm shedding men right, left, and center.” I looked at her. “You know Wade and I are going to split.”

“I figured as much. Sorry if I made you see things that precipitated that.”

“I needed to see things I didn't want to see before, and it's fine. I mean, it's not fine, but it is, if you know what I mean.”

She laughed. “I know exactly what you mean.”

I said, “What's the second thing?”

Jackie brushed the hair out of my eyes. “Pick films that
you
think matter to the world and write scenes based on what
you
want to write about. Stop looking for support classes and men to tell you it's okay and what to do next before you make a move. And while you're figuring out your new life, go it alone for now. It'll make you feel better.”

“It sounds like maybe it just might, ” I told her. “Like a huge relief not having to run to everyone else to prop me up.”

“That alone thing will actually feel less alone once you try it. Go find your own answers. Trust that you can do it. Do you like the idea of that?”

I grinned and sighed with a level of comfort I hadn't felt in years. Now it wasn't just an idea; it was real.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I think I finally do.”

Acknowledgments

Writing a novel is great company. Fictional characters are in your head all the time just like the real characters in your life: an old boyfriend who called, a hot guy with trouble written across his forehead you wish you hadn't met, a child and her latest stumble, a boss with no concept of reality. For two years I walked, ran, showered, cooked, and mothered with Allie, Wade, Murray, James, Tommy, and that elusive but on-point Jackie in my head . . . all intriguing company. As I thought about how far Jackie would go to get what she was after, what basic truth Wade the narcissist couldn't grasp next, how Allie would actually feel if . . . I tested ideas on friends and colleagues.

Some of you read the manuscript in its embryonic state (forgive me David S. and Tom Y.), some read the entire book twice (Joel S.), some read only a chapter and got me thinking about a new way in, and one of you even left a presumably difficult version on the Hampton Jitney bus and forgot that you left it there . . . but to all of you who cared and gave me clarity on my convictions about life and love and women being okay on their own that made it to these pages, I am grateful.

Most of all, I am indebted to my agent, David Kuhn, and his deputy, Becky Sweren, who very generously guided me with their unique gifts of no-nonsense lucidity and precision. Tessa Woodward from William Morrow handled my manuscript like a best girlfriend—giving me firm counsel with just the right amount of distance and respect for my independence. Both Amy Scheibe and Susan Opie helped me sculpt early versions with immense patience and skill.

Also bottomless thank you for sharing reactions and vital encouragement: Susanna Aaron, Eric Avram, Trisha Azcarate, Leslie Bennetts, Jessie Borkin, Kasia Bosne, Marie Brenner, Brenda Breslauer, Tina Brown, Ebs Burnough, Jess Cagle, JuJu Chang, Jean-Marie Condon, Courtney Dawson, John Durkin, Susan and David and Sam Edelstein, David Forrer, Jordana and Alissa Friedman, Emily Gerard, Kyle Gibson, Gary Ginsberg, Lynne Greenberg, Craig Hatkoff, Alexis Hurley, Karen Lawson, Katie Lee, Elizabeth Leeds, Jeffrey Leeds, Jennifer Maguire, Ray McGuire, Peter Manning, Albert and Carol Margaritis, Henry Margaritis, Crystal McCrary, Ashley and Jeff McDermott, Todd McElrath, Cynthia McFadden, Susan Mercandetti, Peter Meryash, Clementine and Lionel Steve-Miserolle, Todd Mitchell, Esther Newberg, Kathy O'Hearn, Glenn Petry, Richard and Lisa Plepler, Abby Pogrebin, Eli Richbourg, Seth Rosenberg, Bob Rylee, Fardad Sabzevari, Rick Saloman, David and Elizabeth Saltzman, Teddy and Jack Saltzman, Neal Shapiro, Susie Stangland, Josh Steiner, Al Styron, Electra Toub, Heather Vincent, Darren Walker, Ali Wentworth, Betsy West, Sherrie Westin, Kim Witherspoon, Andrea Wong, Lee and Bob Woodruff, Andrew Wylie, and Tom Yellin.

And finally, to my insider family of sustenance: my parents Sally and Michael, and Pete and Joan, John Margaritis, my four brothers Johnny, Jim, David, and Michael, and their wives Patti, Wendy, and Tara, for putting up with me in general on every level, Joel Schumacher, Jay and Alice Peterson, ditto, and, most important, to my darling children, Chloe, Jack, and Eliza, for bestowing on me the joy of being their mom.