Fashionably Late (27 page)

Lisa opened her eyes wide. “So, you’ve given up on trying for a baby?”

Jeffrey paused. He looked uncomfortable. “She didn’t tell you?” he asked.

“Tell me what?”

This time the pause was longer. “She finally went through the last stuff with Dr. Goldman. The news wasn’t good. It’s definite. She can’t have children. No way. I think that’s a big part of this.

Honest to God, Lisa, she isn’t acting rationally. That’s why I want you to talk to her.

Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

Lisa sat there, too stunned to feel complimented. Her sister hadn’t even mentioned Dr. Goldman’s results to her. Lisa couldn’t believe it.

Maybe Karen had been busy lately, but they had always confided in one another. Hurt and offended, Lisa tried not to show her surprise, but a bitter thought occurred: Why should Jeffrey think Karen would listen to her? Karen obviously didn’t think Lisa was even important enough to tell this news to.

“Anyway, I know you don’t own much stock in the company, but if we manage to get a twenty-five-million-dollar offer, after the conversion and taxes it would probably mean close to half a million dollars for you.”

“What?” Jesus Christ! Had he said half a million dollars for her?

What was he talking about? Something about an offer. About a conversion of stock. She should have been paying attention. Half a million dollars for her? She could buy a house in Lawrence. Maybe, with half a million dollars, she could even convince Leonard to move to Manhattan. Her whole life would change! What did Jeffrey want her to do? “How do we get the money?” she asked.

“Karen has to agree to sell to NorrnCo if we get a decent offer. I’m not supposed to tell you anything about it, nondisclosure and all that, but I’m sure Karen already has.” Lisa nodded, although Karen hadn’t said one word. “All I’m suggesting is that you have to find some way to talk to her. This sale is really in her best interests. We may lose the business if we don’t sell out. And I’m afraid that after Robert made that little slip at the brunch, that Arnold might affect your sister’s views.”

“Arnold?” Lisa dismissed her father with the same shrug that Belle habitually used. “Are you going to tell Belle? You know, my mother and father could use the money, too.”

Jeffrey shook his head. “Not right now,” he said. “You know Arnold.

He’ll drag out six hundred reasons why NormCo is politically incorrect.

If they once bought polyester that was made from nonunion petroleum by-products, he’ll be calling them fascists and scabs. Karen doesn’t need that right now.”

Lisa blinked her eyes. She wondered if this was what they called “insider trading.” But Karen hadn’t told her about her sterility or about this offer. Lisa wondered if she could consider herself an insider in Karen’s life anymore at all. Half a million dollars! How much money would Karen make in a deal like this, Lisa asked herself.

All at once it seemed so unfair. Karen had everything: a husband who wasn’t only handsome but also concerned about her. She had that great apartment and the new house. Now, she was going to also be millions and millions of dollars richer. Lisa reminded herself that she loved her sister, but she also knew it just wasn’t fair. Everything came easy to Karen. And she didn’t even appreciate what she had.

Jeffrey stretched his hand across the table and took hers again. This time, Lisa was prepared. “Will you help me?” he asked. Lisa nodded and returned the gentle pressure of her brother-in-law’s palm against hers.

IT UP “The Elle Halle Show,” broadcast that night, conflicted with Jeffrey’s poker game with Perry, Jordan, and Sam. The game was like a religion with the guysţuninterrupted since grad schoolţbut when Jeffrey asked Karen if she would mind if he taped it and watched it with her later, Karen was shocked.

“Okay,” she said, “but you’re going to have to learn to program the machine,” she joked, to cover her hurt feelings. She guessed it was stupid to care who she watched the program with but she had just assumed that she and Jeffrey would watch it together. Well, she had a lot of other invitations, and she guessed the best one was from Defina.

So Karen left the office at half-past seven and took a car all the way uptown to Striver’s Row, the genteel part of Harlem, an oasis of upper-middleclass brownstones and trees. Black doctors, stockbrokers, ministers, and real estate developers lived there, alongside Defina.

She had bought her brownstone with early modeling fees, and since then had poured a lot of money into making it the showplace it was. Turning down the row it was hard to believe the pretty street was in the midst of the blight that was Harlem, but the nervous driver had not forgotten where he was.

“Are you going to be long?” he asked. “Maybe it would be best if I drove downtown. You give me a call, and I’ll be back up here in a couple of minutes,” he promised. Karen got angry, and thought of all the times that Defina had trouble just getting a cab to take her home.

Why was life so unfair and so complicated? On the other hand, she understood that the driver’s entire business capital was tied up in his limo. Could he be blamed for being nervous?

“Please wait,” she said. “It’s a safe neighborhood. This was where Spike Lee filmed Jungle Fever.”

Her reassurance didn’t seem to work, but the driver didn’t have a choice. And maybe he’d learn something. If the Huxtable family had lived in Manhattan, they would have lived on Striver’s Row.

Defina had the door open before Karen had climbed the stairs to the front entrance. Dee was wearing a pair of palazzo pants and a kimono-style jacket that Karen had done years ago. “I can’t believe you still have that,” Karen cried, looking her over.

“You can’t believe it stillfits ” Defina told her. “I just had new elastic put in the waist. I can get into it, but you don’t want to see my butt without this jacket covering it.”

“I don’t want to see your butt at all,” Karen told her, and walked into the hall.

The house was laid out like a typical brownstone, only nicer: there was an entry hall that ran along one side of the house and from which a beautifully curved walnut staircase climbed three floors. Defina had refinished the woodwork and stairs herself, and the dark wood gleamed against the black and-white checked marble floor of the hall. A sliding double-pocket door was thrown open and the living room and connecting dining room behind it were open to view. Defina had painted both rooms a brilliant red lacquer, and with the dark wood floors and the shiny brass chandeliers, they had a wild elegance. Carved wooden masks were mounted between the panels of molding on the walls and Defina had also framed some African textiles that looked to Karen like a cross between modern art and something out of an Egyptian tomb. The furniture was fairly plainţcomfortable pieces upholstered in mud cloth and a nicely oiled Danish modern table, surrounded by half a dozen rushbottomed chairs, sort of an Out of Afnca by way of Park Avenue look. In preparation for their evening, Defina had already rolled out the television to a central spot in the bay of the window. Karen looked over at the table and saw that there were only two place settings.

“Tangela isn’t joining us?” she asked.

“Tangela isn’t living here anymore,” Defina told her.

“Oh, Dee, when did that happen?”

“Last week. I told her I wasn’t running a hotel, and she told me she knew that because the laundry service sucked. I smacked her. She moved out before I could throw her out.” Defina sighed. “Maybe it’s for the best,” she said. “But I can’t help thinking that she’s going to blow it.” Defina paused. She seemed reluctant to speak. “Karen, let me ask you something’. Does Tangela seem different to you?”

“Different from the other girls?”

“No, I mean different from the way she used to be. She’s still seein’ that no good black-ass boy and I swear he’s into drugs.”

“What are you talking about, Dee? Some grass?”

“Grass? Weed? Shit, honey, I smoke weed. I’m talking about coke, or maybe even crack. She’s thinner than ever, and I don’t think even Tangela can have that much attitude without chemical assistance.”

Before Karen could say anything, Defina had begun to move food from the sideboard to the table. Karen sat down. Who was she to give advice?

After all, she was fated to be permanently excluded from the mother role.

“It’s hard to raise a kid.”

“It’s hard to raise a blacl kid,” Defina agreed. “And then, she’s not really black, is she? I mean, her father was white. Not that whites see her that way. And she doesn’t fit in with blacks either.” Defina sighed.

“I tried to give her an identity. I probably did all the wrong things.”

“How can you say that?” Karen asked. “You’ve tried so hard.”

“Trying isn’t enough,” Defina said. “You got to succeed.” She shook her head and spooned some rice onto Karen’s plate. She handed her a dish of chicken. “I surely shouldn’t have let her take the modeling work. It made us too competitive. And the money was too easy and too good. That much money is bad for a Harlem kid. When she dropped out of school I knew the kind of trouble we’d be getting into.”

“Listen, Dee, maybe wanting a place of your own is just a normal part of growing up.”

“Grow up yourself, Karen. Nothing about what Tangela is doing is normal. She’s getting paid big buckets of money to stand around and look good. But she feels she don’t look good enough. She’s not black enough, and she’s not white enough. She wants magazine work, and to strut the catwalks. But nowadays a girl has got to be more than beautifulţshe’s got to be perfect. This job has helped her lose self-confidence, not gain it. And she’s getting paid a lot of attention by men. Of course, they’re the wrong kind of men.” Defina shook her head. “I’m just afraid she’s going to make the kind of mistake that you can’t recover from. But I guess there isn’t anything more I can do.” Dee bent her head, picked up her fork, and began to eat.

Karen sat silently for a few minutes, trying to choke down some of the dinner. Defina was upset, and all of this had been going on while Karen hadn’t even noticed. She’d been too wrapped up in television shows, acquisition pitches, and celebrity weddings. How long had it been since the two of them had talked? She and Defina spent so much time together, but didn’t have time for the stuff that counted. Their lives had become work. Karen put down her own fork. “For once, I’m not hungry,” she said.

“Me neither,” Defina agreed. “Let’s just veg out and drink.” She grabbed a bottle of French Merlot and handed a goblet to Karen. “Want some crackers or a piece of bread?”

“Best bread?” Karen asked.

Without losing a beat, Defina said, “Eli Zabar’s.”

“Wrong! Orwasher’s.”

“Get outta here!”

Before Defina could launch into an argument, Karen distracted her.

“Best watch?”

“The gold Cartier Panther.”

“Nh. Harry Winston’s Ultimate Timepiece. They don’t have logos.”

Both the women hated wearing anything splashed with someone else’s initials.

Defina shrugged.

“You got a point, but when the logo is Cartier I make an exception.

Best pearls?”

“Helen Woodhull.” Karen watched Defina nod her approval. “Best exercise coach?”

“Radu.” Defina, along with another hundred dozen famous New York women, worshiped Radu Teodorescu.

Karen shook her head. “Lydia Bach,” Karen said.

“Oh, come on.” Karen decided not to fight that one out. Personal trainers were not something to argue about. New York women believed in them more than their religions.

They went over to the couch. Each one leaned their back against a sofa arm and drew their feet up, so they were facing each other, their soles almost touching. “It’s funny, Karen. I always thought that the only thing I really wanted was a nice home, money in the bank, and my daughter. Ha! When I got the first two I tried for the third, and when I had Tangela, I found I also wanted a man. Listen: there’s kids, a home, career, and marriage. They tell women we can have them all. I say if you’re good, really, really good, you can manage to have two of the four. White men don’t have the same problems. They can have it all if they get the right wife. Black men don’t usually get any of it and they know it so they don’t try. But for women, this is the bait and we keep running for it. Here’s the reality, Karen: I’ve had a successful career and a nice house, but I haven’t found a man and I’vefailed as a single mom. So what’s it gonnabe for you? Cause if you keep trying for all of them, I guarantee you’re gonna fall apart.

It seems like the best Life ever gives women is two out of four.”

“How about one out of four?” Karen asked. “I wanted my career, my home, my marriage, and a baby. The doctor told me there isn’t going to be any baby, NormCo may buy out my business and Jeffrey told me if I want to adopt there isn’t going to be any marriage.”

“Keep the husband, skip the kid. That’s my advice,” Defina said, pouring another glass of wine.

“Oh, come on, Dee. This is just a phase. Remember that time we made the skating skirts for you and Tangela? And you went to Radio City and skated with her while I clapped?”

“And we had hot choclate and cinnamon toast at Rumplemeyer’s afterward,” Defina remembered smiling.

“And remember for her birthdayţwhen she was ten, or was it nine?ţ and she said she didn’t want toys anymore, she wanted earrings? And we bought her all those stuffed animals at FAO and put earrings in all their ears? Remember her face?” Karen continued the remembrance: “Remember when you first started working for me and you brought her into the office every day? And she wanted a desk just like yours? We got that little one. And she’d sit down and try to do everything that you did?”

Defina’s eyes filled with tears, but, like Karen, she wouldn’t cry.

“Yeah, I remember, and I wonder which one of those things were mistakes?

You know, a mother and a daughter without a husband and father makes a kind of pressurecooker. Tangela was so dependent on me that it was only natural she came to resent me. First she loved every single thing I did and said, and then she hated it. That’s hard. And I expected so much from her. I wanted her to be black, but I wanted her to feel comfortable around whites. She had to be street smart, but she had to get good grades. I’ve been as hard on her as she is on me.” She paused, her lip trembling. “But this new stuff is breaking my heart.”