Claire Voyant (15 page)

“Well wait. Hold on.” Drew said. “Don't you think if Aunt Penny had a baby thirty years ago, that by now she would have at least talked about her?”

I almost laughed. After the sneak preview in the bathroom, Drew was apparently still holding on to the hope that I was wrong about our being related. And Sharon the Mama Bear knew it, too.

“Not necessarily, dear,” she said firmly. “A lot of women Penny's age had children out of wedlock and simply closed the door on that chapter in their life. It's the children who go crazy looking for their birth parents. Not the other way around.”

“So as far as you know, she has no idea who or where you are,” Drew said.

“Exactly. See, when this whole thing happened, she was living with my grandparents. And I guess a few days after the funeral, she left a note in my stroller and took off in the middle of the night.”

“And that was it?” Sharon asked. “She never came back? Never contacted your family?”

“Yeah, then after it was obvious that she'd left for good, my Aunt Roberta and her new husband, Lenny, adopted me and changed my name.”

“Changed it from what?” Drew asked. “Did she tell you?”

“Yes…it's just so hard for me to say.”

“Of course it is, dear,” Sharon practically purred. “The whole thing is such a terrible shock.”

“Are you a Fabrikant?” Drew pressed on.

Whoa. Had I misread him? Did his interest in this story have anything to do with the sudden possibility that he would have to split his rightful inheritance? “Yes, I'm a Fabrikant,” I answered. “She named me Hannah…Hannah Claire Fabrikant.”

“She named you Hannah? That's bizarre.”

“Why?” I bit my lip. “Is there another one?”

“No. I mean yes. Well, there was. She's been dead for many years. My dad and my Aunt Penny's grandmother was Hannah. I grew up hearing the stories. It was Bubba Hannah this and Bubba Hannah that….”

“Isn't that something?” Sharon smiled. “This story gets more interesting by the minute.”

Oh, stop. We all know where you're coming from
. Still, I gasped, too. The facts were unraveling at a rapid pace, fitting together like a giant jigsaw.

“Wait until my dad hears this.” Drew whistled. “I wonder if he even knew about you.”

“Oh, wait. This is so cute, Claire.” Marly the college professor clapped. “That would make Drew's dad your Uncle Ben. Like the rice.”

Sharon delighted in her daughter's witty repartee, and an obliged Drew chuckled.

“So what are you going to do now?” he probed. “Do your parents know you know?”

“That's what started this whole commotion. When I called them this morning to tell them about Abe's apartment, they realized that I'd connected with Penelope's family and decided to grab the first flight out of New York. I guess they were afraid that someone from your side might tell me the truth, and if that happened, they wanted to be here to tell me their version of the story. They just never expected my grandmother would be the one to spill the beans, or that I'd end up in some emergency room. It was really awful when I got discharged.

“I couldn't look them in the eye, couldn't talk to them. I tried, but
after a while I knew I had to get the hell away, so I called Viktor and asked if there was any place he could bring me to shower and change. Collect myself.”

“Oh.” Marly sighed.

“So you see? Nothing was going on here. I was just so desperate for someplace to hide. You can understand that, right?”

“Of course we can.” Sharon came over to hug me. “What a terrible ordeal for any child to have to go through, especially after the experience you already had on the flight. Who would ever believe such a thing? Your own grandfather, a stranger, seated next to you on a plane. I tell you, the older I get, the more I wonder about the world…what God has in store for us…. Oooh, darling. You feel warm to me.” She felt my forehead. “Claire, you're burning up. Don't you feel it?”

“I guess I felt a little hot before.” I shrugged. “But it always takes me time to adjust to the humidity down here.”

“No, dear. You're definitely feverish. Let's call the doctor. You could have an infection brewing.”

“I'll be fine. Two Tylenol, and I'll be good as new…. I am very tired, though. Do you think it would be okay if I laid down for a little while?”

Sharon and Drew looked at Marly. How would the judge rule?

“I guess it's fine,” she sighed. But, of course, she knew if she dared object, she'd be overruled.

“The only thing that bothers me,” Drew said, “is I think Sharon is right, Claire. Maybe you should call the hospital first. Find out what they want you to do…. We really have to get over to my parents now. The Rabbi is waiting for us. But Viktor could run you over there.”

“You can't be too careful, dear.” Sharon seconded her own motion. “Just go back over there, get checked out, and then have him bring you back here.”

“Or back to our house,” Marly offered. “Wherever you think you'd be more comfortable.”

“Would you stop already?” Drew finally lost his cool. “You heard
her. We're COUSINS, okay? Nothing is going to happen, and I don't appreciate being second-guessed all the time. This is bullshit, Marly, and it's really starting to grow old.”

“Drew, calm down, dear,” Sharon said. “You can understand her position. That was quite a scene we walked in on before—”

“Butt out, Sharon,” he said. “I know exactly how it looked, but it's all been explained…. Shit. I can't take this anymore. The two of you are driving me out of my mind.”

You go, girlfriend,
I almost said. But I was too caught up in the mother/daughter huddle in the corner. Without so much as uttering a word, they had taken a page from a relationship playbook, circa 1955. Retreat. Back off. Too much was at stake to have it all blow up again.

“I really appreciate everyone's concern,” I finally said. “I do. It means a lot to me. But if I could just rest for a little while, I really think I'll be okay. And if I'm still not feeling right, you have my word I'll call the doctor. Just point me in the direction of a couch.”

“No. That's ridiculous,” Drew said. “Use my bed. You're not feeling well. Why should you be uncomfortable? When I get back, if you're out cold, I'll sleep on the couch.”

We all expected Marly to object. But one look from Drew kept her mute. Good to see his balls weren't totally in the vise yet.

“You girls go on,” he instructed. “I'll change and meet you over there. And don't say a word to anyone, do you hear me? This is Claire's decision how she wants to handle it.”

“Of course it is, dear. We understand,” the newly obedient Sharon said.

“We'll wait for you downstairs,” Marly said. “You know I don't like walking into your parents' house alone.”

“You're not alone,” he grumbled. “Your mother is with you.”

Funny how the pendulum can suddenly swing. One minute Drew was this gracious, I-aim-to-please kind of guy, and the next minute he was the drill Sergeant telling the Marly twins how high to jump. Kind of like pornography. Eventually everyone got their chance to be on top.

 

“So before when you were talking,” Drew said after I crawled into his bed, “about the man you're in love with back in L.A. The very rich and handsome talent agent. Was that true? Are you going to marry him?”

“Nope.” I fluffed the down comforter. “There is no guy. I made the whole thing up. I hated to lie, but it seemed like the only way to get them off my back.”

“I thought so.” He chuckled. “Not that you weren't totally convincing.”

“Really? You didn't buy it?”

“Not one word.”

“And I call myself an actress…. How come?”

“Because when we had dinner last night, you never mentioned anything about being involved. And if I've learned anything, it's when a woman is in love, she just goes on and on about the guy. You can't shut her up.”

“Good point.”

“And your body language. Not exactly the look of love.”

“Why? What did I do?”

“It's what you didn't do after you brought him up. You didn't smile, your eyes didn't get all sparkly. You didn't even look happy.”

“Do you think Marly and her mom caught on?”

“Doesn't matter. It won't change anything for them.”

“Does it change anything for you?”

“Not sure.”

“What about the fact that we're kissing cousins?”

He hesitated. “I like the kissing part.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” He bent down and placed his soft lips on mine for a lot longer than a first cousin should. And being the slut that I was, I kissed him back. Hungrily, in fact. It was so nice to feel passion and heat, even if my skin was already burning with fever.

“Get some rest.” He stroked my cheek, and looked at me with equal parts exhilaration and fear. “I'll be back as soon as I can to check on you.”

I couldn't move. His tender touch had left me breathless and confused. Good God. What had I just done? My life was about to get very complicated without any sort of sexual entanglements, especially with an engaged man to whom I was technically related.

But who was I kidding? Drew Fabrikant rocked my soul and had from the minute I saw him at the Jacksonville airport. Still, there was something I needed to know. “Why did you just do that?” I touched my lips. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I don't know.” He stopped. “I guess in case I never got another chance.”

I
UNDERSTAND THAT MY GRANDFATHER,
A
BE'S, FUNERAL WAS LOVELY.
A testimony to the indomitable spirit of a boy who escaped Nazi Germany. A boy who chose to embrace life, rather than spend it mourning his unthinkable losses. A boy who devoted his entire life to helping others escape the life-threatening conditions brought on by demon dictators.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear any of this firsthand, as I was not among the mourners. Seems I was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Not at Aventura Hospital, where I'd first been taken. Rather, I'd been upgraded to the more prestigious Mt. Sinai, where I could be cared for by the Fabrikants' private physicians.

The fact that I was unaware of any of this was a little confusing. Last I knew, I was safely tucked in Drew's bed, confident that after the Tylenol kicked in, I would just get up and try to deal with my very real nightmare.

Instead, I awoke to the sight of my father hunched in a big leather chair, staring out the window. “I am such an ass,” I thought I heard him mumble. But surely I was mistaken. Admission of guilt was rare. Still, it was worth pursuing, even in my groggy stupor.

“Why? What did you do this time?”

“I can't believe it. I hit a lady smack in the jaw. I've never hit a lady in my life…. Oh my God!” He jumped out of his chair, kissed my forehead, and ran to the door. “Nurse!” he yelled. “Nurse! She's up.
My daughter is up. She's talking. Get the doctor. Get my wife.” He rushed back to my bedside. “You have no idea how worried we were about you…we thought we were going to lose you.”

“Where am I?” I sounded like I had a mouth full of novocaine.

“You're in a hospital. A really good hospital in Florida. You wouldn't believe what they charge a night here. Like it's the goddamn Ritz-Carlton. But who cares about that? Thank God you woke up.”

“Everything hurts,” I grumbled. “My head, my throat, my chest…”

“No kidding it hurts.” He ran back to the door. “Nurse! Somebody medical. My daughter woke up…. Jesus Christ.” He banged the wall. “Five hundred big ones a night, and you still can't get any goddamn help when you need it.”

“What are all these tubes?”

“Don't touch those!” He ran to my side. “Claire, listen. You're a mess, honey. You've been unconscious for two days, you got pneumonia after you swallowed your own vomit, and the bacteria got stuck in your lungs, or something like that, and then they had to drill a hole in the back of your head to drain out the fluid from the blood clot, which could have killed you if they didn't get to it in time…a subdermal hematoma they called it—”

“Huh?”

“But don't worry. You're going to be fine. The doctors said if you didn't go into a deep coma, your chances for a normal recovery were excellent.”

“Where's Mommy?”

“She's coming. They're getting her. She's probably down in the cafeteria stuffing her face—”

“I heard that.” My mother rushed in. “
Oy,
Claire…thank God you're up. And for your information, mister, I was down the hall speaking to one of the nurses about my migraines, which I wouldn't have if you weren't always carrying on like such a lunatic.”

“Oh, good. We solved the case of the missing nurses. They're off gabbing instead of working.”

“Don't be ridiculous. The care here is excellent. And stop blaming
me for everything. You're the one who always gets Claire so crazy.”

“Me get her crazy? All I try to do is reason with her.”

“I think I'm going to throw up.” I leaned over the bed.

“DOES ANYBODY WORK HERE?” My father's voice bellowed.

“Stop shouting, Lenny,” my mother shouted back. “You're in a hospital, for Christ's sake. Here. Press this buzzer, and they come right away.”

It only took a minute before not one, but two doctors and a nurse came to check on me. But according to my father, we'd been trying to get someone's goddamn attention for nearly a half an hour. Fortunately, they knew enough to let the big-mouth New Yorker vent, as their greater concern was the status of the beautiful model who was somehow related to the very philanthropic Fabrikants.

The reason I had no recollection of what happened next is apparently that I blacked out again. My brain's way of shielding me from having to listen to my idiot parents. All I know is that when I awoke for the second time, I was much happier to see a different man sitting in the chair.

“Hey.” I waved.

“How are you?” He looked as frightened as the flight attendants who were hoping not to pronounce a man dead at thirty thousand feet. “Don't move. Let me get the nurse.”

“What are you doing here?” my voice croaked.

“You know who I am?”

“Drew.”

“Oh wow. You remember me. Because they weren't sure…”

“Drew Fabrikant,” I said. “Abe's grandson.”

“Right.” He hesitated. “This is great. You keep going in and out of consciousness…the doctors are really baffled…we've been keeping a vigil…we were all pretty scared.”

“Like who?”

“All of us. Me, my parents, Marly and Sharon, your parents, of course…they just left to go pick up your brother and sister at the airport.”

“Why?”

“Because they wouldn't let Viktor go. They insisted—”

“No, why are they coming?”

“Because…see, what happened…your condition…the doctors said…”

“You thought I was going to die.”

“I gotta be honest. It's been touch and go…you weren't responding…Let me go get the nurse.”

“No wait.” I tugged at his arm. “I feel so much better. My chest was killing me before…it hurt to breathe…but now…not so bad.”

“That's great, Claire. I'm very relieved. But I really should get someone—”

“Hold on. I want to ask you something.”

“About…Aunt Penny?”

“No…about us.”

“Us? Oh. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't remember any of that. Look, I'm really sorry. I never should have…I wasn't thinking…it was pretty stupid, actually.”

“Are we married?”

“No.” He laughed. “Call me old-fashioned, but I'm one of those guys who thinks it's better if the brides are conscious…. Why would you think that?”

“Because I saw that we were.”

“Claire, c'mon. You've been in a coma. It was just a dream. I'm engaged to Marly, remember?”

“But I'm telling you, I saw us together. We were married.”

“Look…I know we could have feelings for each other, but things are already so crazy. Your father…it was pretty unbelievable…he caused some scene here the other night…”

“What did he do?” I tried to sit up.

“Lie still. You're all attached to tubes and everything. I'm getting someone right now.”

“But wait. I'm not kidding. I saw us. We were married.”

“Don't you have to be Mormon to have two wives?” Drew chuckled as he headed out. “Especially if one of them is your first cousin?”

 

“Claire, come on. You need to drink this.” My mother was pushing a straw in my face. “The doctors don't want you to get dehydrated again.”

“Uch.” I tried to sip, but my throat burned, and cold orange juice was hardly the perfect antidote.

“What if I go get her Starbucks?” My sister Lindsey yawned. “She loves lattes.”

“Oh, I wouldn't advise that,” Sharon said. “The caffeine might not mix with all her medications.”

“We could ask,” Marly offered. “I'll check with the nurses' station.”

“What time is it?” I asked, not really knowing why it mattered.

“Nine-thirty in the morning,” Lindsey grumbled.

“And it's Sunday.” Sharon smiled. “It's your birthday, Claire. Happy birthday.”

“Yes, happy birthday,” my mother said.

“Yeah. Happy birthday.” Lindsey chucked my shoulder. “You wanna go hit the bars? Free drinks today.”

“Love to.” I smiled. “Where's Daddy and Adam?”

“With Grams.” My mother coughed. “Seeing about a new place for her to live.”

A new place for her to live?
My grandmother had lived in the same apartment on Country Club Drive for seventeen years. Why would she move now? I waited for my mother to explain, but she was examining the contents of her pocketbook. And Lindsey, who never had anything substantive to add to a conversation, but talked anyway, was unusually quiet.

Then it was if a power surge tripped a switch, and the memory chip in my head turned on. The details were still fuzzy, but I was starting to remember. My grandmother hated where she lived…she'd gotten rid of all her things…she needed a place to go…an assisted living center was available…it belonged to Abe Fabrikant…the man who died on me…my grandfather…that's why I was in the hospital…I'd fainted from the shock of figuring out the truth…my mother and father were not my authentic parents they were understudies for my real parents, one of whom was
unable, the other, unwilling, to fulfill their duties.
At this performance, the role of Claire's mother will be played by Roberta Greene.

As for the Marly twins? Think…why were they here? Of course! Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. The only way to stop me from becoming the majority stockholder in the Drew Corporation was to keep tabs on my recovery.

In fact, I'd bet the Fabrikant family farm that they were up to no good. There was just too much at stake here. The chance for Marly to marry into money, to live among the other wealthy scions of Florida, to complain about the high cost of maintaining a yacht and the difficulty in finding good help.

No way could they take the chance that I fully recuperated and competed for Drew's affections. I wouldn't put it past them that they had come in hopes of finding me alone so that they could pull the plug, then watch me die a slow, painful death.

Oh God! The idea that today was my birthday, that I was spending it in a hospital after coming out of a coma, and that I had no one in my corner who really cared about me, made me think I should let the Marly twins do the dirty work and just get rid of me.

“Get out!” I cried. “All of you, just get the hell out of here!”

“What did we do?” my mother asked. “We're just sitting here talking.”

“I don't want to see any of you,” I cried. “Please leave!”

“That's the thanks we get for
schlepping
here day after day.” My mother stood, hands on hips. “You wouldn't believe what it costs to park the car, or get a lousy cup of coffee.”

“Roberta, calm down,” Sharon said. “Remember what the doctors said. She could be easily agitated.”

“I am not agitated. I just don't see why you have to be here. I was doing fine without you.”

“Hello? No, you weren't.” Lindsey shuffled. “You were in a coma. They told us you might…you know. Check out.”

“Yeah. And you were probably all thinking, good, who needs her? She's nothing but a burden and a nuisance.”

“You're talking nonsense!” my mother barked. “We've been praying
to God that you got better. Your father even went down to the chapel to talk to the rabbi.”

“Sure!” I sniffed. “He's a big fan of religion, as long as he doesn't have to pay dues and contribute to a building fund.”

“Enough with the insults!” she ordered. “We all have feelings, you know.”

“Me, too!” I flung the TV controller at her.

“But I don't have to go, right?” Lindsey played with a hangnail. “You want me to stay?”

“No!”

“Why? What did I do?”

“Did you get me a birthday gift?”

“No. 'Cause…you know…I waited to see if you were going to croak first.”

“GET OUT! ALL OF YOU JUST GET OUT!”

 

You can't blame a girl for losing track of time. Especially when she's lying in a hospital bed, struggling to recover from a near-fatal fall. And I didn't know if it was because I was a Very Important Patient or the staff was this attentive to everyone, but I had no idea how an ill person was supposed to regain her strength if she couldn't be left to rest for even five minutes.

The nurses were the worst, insisting that they needed my temperature, blood pressure, and how was I doing with that stool sample? Then the interns would come charging in to poke and prod, like I was a med-school cadaver. “Excuse me,” I'd scream. “Is there a sign outside my door that says
OPEN HOUSE
?” And let's not forget the doctors who would casually stroll in, pull up a chair, and ask a lot of irrelevant questions, as if I were a defendant in a murder trial.

Frankly, I was so emotionally and physically drained, I didn't care if I lived or died. Until I saw Drew standing at the door with flowers and a box of candy.

“Hey.” He knocked. “Coast clear?”

I smiled yes.

“I wasn't sure,” he teased. “I heard this was a combat zone.”

“A what? Oh, that. I'm better now.”

“Glad to hear it.” He walked over and kissed my cheek.

“Everyone's probably pissed at me, right?”

“Nah. Don't worry. We all know you've been to hell and back.”

“It's so weird. Sometimes I feel fine. Like myself. Other times I feel completely out of it. Paranoid and delusional…. Like the other day when Marly and her mom were here? I actually thought that they'd come to kill me.”

“Believe it or not, that was this morning. But don't worry about them. They're very concerned about you. You're family now.” He laughed. “Otherwise they would have come to kill you.”

It felt so good to laugh. And for that one brief moment of lightness, I was grateful.

“Anyway, happy birthday.” He tossed what looked like a perfectly fresh bouquet into the trash, replacing it with the most magnificent arrangement of roses.