Authors: Jackie Pilossoph
Jackpot! (30 page)
I wanted to blame my mother for everything, but how could I? She wasn’t responsible for all those nights I used Drew. Frankie didn’t plan and scheme and dress seductively to trick an innocent guy into having a child. I did that all by myself. So I was the only one to blame. And the more I thought about things, the angrier I became. Yes, I was angry at my mother, but so much more upset with myself. I went to bed angry, and the next morning I woke up angry.
It was Monday morning. I got ready for work in my usual manner, however, I did wear my loosest suit because I couldn’t have felt any fatter. The second I left my place, I was a complete bitch to every person I came in contact with. I yelled at my cab driver for turning down the wrong street, I told the
Starbucks
guy who made my Grande skim, half-calf, half-decaf, no-foam latte that there was in fact a little bit of foam in it, and once inside the elevator of my office building, I purposely closed the elevator door before a sweet little old man was about to get on. And all that happened before I even got into work.
When I walked into WGB, I didn’t say hello or say hello back to a single person. I thought it was kind of funny how most people didn’t even notice that I wasn’t saying hi. I retreated to my office, praying that on the way I wouldn’t run into my now ex-boyfriend, who thought I was evil.
I sat at my desk fuming. If only I could talk to my mother right now! Boy, would I let her have it. When Frankie got back from pampering herself, I planned on sitting her down and explaining exactly how I felt. If I loved my mother, I needed to make her understand how wrong I thought she was in her decision to force something both Danny and I clearly weren’t ready for. And she needed to know the price we were paying for her selfishness.
I also wanted to ask my mother why she really did it, because in my heart I felt it was completely out of character. I needed a better explanation than the one Frankie had given me. I needed better justification than, “I have waited long enough for you two to grow up. It’s time for you to realize what’s important in life.” But talking to Frankie would have to wait until she got back. And that was frustrating. I had so much anger and rage pumping through my veins, and a serious need to vent.
“You’re on in ten minutes,” Richard shouted as he walked by my office.
Ten minutes till show time. Ten minutes to turn anger and bitterness into sweet and bubbly. Or not…
I realized something right then. If I needed to vent, who better to listen than the general public?
Walking into the studio, I felt like a prisoner on death row, walking to her execution. As angry and belligerent as I felt about so many things, I was really scared to see Drew. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since he left my place the day before. Now, not only did I have to be in the same room with him, but he would be looking at me through a big lens. In six minutes from now, he’d be shooting me, ironically something he probably wanted to do with a gun instead of a camera.
Once on stage, the nervousness intensified. Drew’s face was hidden behind the camera and other than asking me to hold still so he could get a good focus, he didn’t say anything to me. Not even hi. He was cold and distant, acting like a stranger. Richard and the audio guy were giving each other looks, and I could tell they sensed the tension.
“Three…two…” said Drew. Then he held up his index finger to indicate “one” silently. It was show time.
“Good Afternoon, and welcome to WGB, the official station for the Illinois Lottery…” I was acting like my usual sugary, uplifting self, but normalcy was an effort, given the fact that every time I looked into the camera I was forced to look at the guy behind it, forced to look at a person with whom I’d just spent the best weeks of my life, and forced to look at a guy who didn’t seem like he was going to forgive me anytime soon.
“There you have it,” I said with a smile, wrapping things up and still acting like the Jamie Jacobson everyone knew, “Once again your pick three is one nine two…the pick four…six six four three.” Then came the big shock. “Let’s be honest, though. Most likely, none of you will win tonight, but if you do happen to win, I have something to say to you. God help you!”
I could feel Richard’s jaw drop, but still, I continued, “My mother won the lottery and you know where it got me? It ruined my life. Her money ruined my life. You want to be happy? Work hard and try to be a good person. And by the way, for those of you who think I’m
evil
, I’m not! You know what’s evil? Money! For WGB, I’m Jamie Jacobson.”
“We’re clear,” yelled Richard.
My microphone was immediately turned down and the credits rolled, as I stood there for a couple of seconds. Then we went to black.
“What the fuck, Jamie?” Richard shouted.
“Sorry,” I said, my tone calm and soft, “I quit.” Then I put the mic down and walked off the stage. As I walked out of the studio with my head down, I could hear people asking me questions like, “Are you okay?” and saying things like, “Jamie, wait…” I never looked at Drew. Instead, I headed straight to my office, grabbed my purse and exited WGB for the last time. I’d had it. I was done with this place.
As soon as I was out the door, I knew exactly where I was headed first. There was somewhere I felt compelled to go. I didn’t know exactly why or from where the urgency came, I just knew I needed to get there immediately.
I had to stop home to grab the key I needed to get into the door of the place where I was going. When I passed through my lobby, my doorman, Rick stopped me.
“Hey Jamie, what’s going on with you?” he asked. Obviously he had just seen the lottery on the little TV that sat on his desk.
“Nothing, Rick. Everything’s fine. I just have somewhere to go and I’m sort of in a hurry.”
“Okay, girl,” he replied.
Once upstairs, I desperately searched my kitchen drawers and cabinets for a key I hadn’t used in ages. I finally found it in a coffee mug, in the cabinet above the fridge. It was definitely the right key, because attached to it was a very old plastic key chain with the name
Dr. Thomas Schneider, DDS
on it. Underneath the dentist’s name was his address and phone number. Doctor Schneider was the dentist Ma worked with for almost twenty years. The key on the key-chain would open the door to Frankie’s condo. So, with key in hand, I dashed out the door, down the elevator and through the lobby again.
“Are you sure everything’s cool with you?” asked Rick, as I ran by him.
“Yeah!” I shouted, racing out the door.
I hailed a cab. The ride seemed like it took forever. I knew what I was doing was completely crazy, but I felt like I couldn’t rest until I saw what I needed to see. I wasn’t going to my mother’s place to see my mother, since obviously, she wasn’t there. Frankie was still on her cruise and wasn’t coming home for a few more days. I was going there for something else.
My heart began to pound when the cab started getting close. Then, I felt like I was in a movie because the cab driver accidentally drove past Frankie’s building and was heading toward a different address. By the time I told him to stop, we were a block away from Ma’s building. Instead of telling him to go back to the right place, I just paid him, got out of the cab, and then ran as fast as I could back to the correct address. I felt very overly dramatic, but in my defense, I was an obsessed woman on a mission, and I couldn’t wait another minute to get into Ma’s condo and see the object that now occupied my mind so fanatically.
I ran up the two flights of stairs and put the key into 3G. It was a funny thought using Frankie’s key. In all the years Ma had lived in this place, not once had I ever been here without her. I walked in and headed straight for the third bedroom. Hesitating only for a second, I took a deep breath and opened the door. I looked around my mother’s new nursery and instantly my eyes filled with tears.
I was in awe of its purity and beauty. The walls were painted mint green, and under the white chair rail there were stripes of powder blue, light yellow, pale pink and the same mint green. A few stenciled sheep were scattered on the walls and on the wood floor was a circular crème area rug with little sheep on the edges. Two pieces of white furniture were all that stood in the room; a changing table and a crib that had a mint green sheet and a bumper pad with white, mint green and pale yellow sheep on it. Inside the crib were several stuffed farm animals, all in pastel colors. A couple tears ran down my cheeks. I reached in and took out a stuffed giraffe. I looked at it for a second and smiled. Then I knelt down on the rug, hugged my little stuffed friend and began to sob.
‘This damned crib!’ I thought, ‘This damned room! Why did my mother do this to me?’ Frankie’s new money hadn’t bought her any pregnancies, but it had done something to me. Without meaning to, her whole scheme had caused me to fall in love and had given me the urge to have a child.
Over and over again, John had made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of being a parent. Drew had said to me just a couple nights earlier, “You know you’d be a great mother,” and it had stuck. He was right! I
would
be a great mother. Drew loved me and he believed in me. And now I finally believed in myself. But at the same time, Drew wasn’t mine anymore. It was unbearably upsetting to think that the person who had changed me had given up on me. How bittersweet it was.
I cried and cried for what seemed like a long time. Yes, I was crying about losing Drew, but there was more. I also felt a tremendous amount of relief. I was thankful that I was finally able to realize what I wanted, and that I was worthy of it. And now I knew in my heart that there was a chance for me to have kids someday, with or without Drew.
So I was divorced and carrying around a little baggage. Big deal. I deserved to be happy. I deserved to have a husband who loved me. Not John. I deserved to have a husband I loved. Not Max. I didn’t have to settle. John’s constant unkind and unsupportive words were now fading, Drew’s and Danny’s and my mother’s all taking their place. At this moment, I felt more at peace than I had in so long.
I stood up, wiped my tears and placed the animal back in the crib. Everything was going to be okay, no matter how things turned out. I knew that now. I smiled at my good thoughts and my newfound attitude, feeling like I’d just been reborn, given a second chance, perhaps. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding in my whole life. Relaxed and ready to begin a new chapter, I gave the room one last look and turned around to head out. That’s the moment I heard the front door open.
Upon hearing someone entering the condo, I immediately thought I was about to be killed by a burglar. The person was going to find me in the way of his heist, and he would shoot me dead so I wouldn’t be able to identify him. As he sat in his jail cell years later, convicted of another crime, he would regret what he’d done to me. But it wouldn’t make a difference because I’d be dead. And what a shame that this was going to occur now, just when I realized my potential for true happiness in life.
My heart was beating out of my chest while I tiptoed out of the bedroom, made my way into the main area, and crouched behind an armchair. When I saw who had just come through the door, heart pounding panic changed to confusion. A heavyset black woman wearing a nurse’s uniform quietly closed the door behind her. She was carrying a little white bag. Her presence instantly made me feel safe, calm, and comfortable. She was hardly a thief with a loose trigger finger.
I stood up. “Who are you?” I asked.
The woman jumped and gasped so hard, she dropped the bag she was holding. She recovered quickly, though, kneeling down, picking it up and responding in a calm voice. “I’m sorry. You startled me,” she said, “My name is Rose. Are you…Jamie?”