Lust, Loathing and a Little Lip Gloss (21 page)

“That’s when you got your appendix removed?” I asked.

“Yes, but I didn’t tell your father anything about it. I was stubborn like you. But you, you were too young to see your mama in so much pain. You tried to be such a grown-up, making nice to your sister and feeding her spoonfuls of applesauce, but it wasn’t right. It was all too much for you, mamaleh.”

“I don’t remember this,” I whispered. But flashes of memories were popping up. Shouting, a door closing, cries in the middle of the night, my cries, cries for someone who wasn’t there. From her seat my mother reached out and took my hand in hers. I knew my mother’s hands so well. Long before they had become puffy with arthritis I had watched as they expertly wove threads through my torn pant legs and applied extra lace to Leah’s dresses.

But now I knew that those hands had also taken off the ring my father had given her. At one point they must have held the door open for him as he prepared to walk out of her life.

“Thank God I was too young to know what was going on,” Leah said with a shudder. “It might have hampered my ability to be in a healthy relationship.”

Both Mama and I stared at her. “Bubbala,” Mama said to her, “you know I love you, but your late husband was a number-one schmuck.”

“Oh, him,” Leah said dismissively. “He doesn’t count.”

“Why not?” I asked. “He was the father of your child, after all. I don’t think anyone would have granted you an annulment if he had lived.”

“He wasn’t Jewish,” Leah said with a sniff. “According to Israeli law the marriage was never legal.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was under the impression that you were an American citizen.”

“Enough with the fighting already. Sophie, stop giving your sister a hard time. Leah, Bob’s religion wasn’t such an issue. A pig is a pig no matter what house he prays in. As for the problems between me and your father, well, they were exactly that. Problems between me and your father. It’s not my fault that you two don’t know a good man from a
bohmer!
”

Leah wrinkled her nose. “Do I want to know what that means?”

I gave her a meaningful shake of my head. I didn’t know exactly what it meant myself, but I could hazard a guess.

“And your father and I, we worked it all out. He invited me to lunch one afternoon, and I was healthy by then, so off I went. Then there was another lunch and another and then one day he met me at the Cliff House with a dozen roses, if you can imagine! Lunches turned into dinners and then long walks on the beach and always we were talking. Until we were blue in the face we talked! That father of yours may have driven me crazy, and I may not have understood all of his ways, but his soul—that I knew. No matter how different our backgrounds our souls still fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. I cared for Sheldon, but your father? Him I loved.”

I relaxed instantly, all my childhood assumptions reconfirmed. Sinking back down onto the couch I let out an audible sigh of relief as Mr. Katz jumped from his position at my mother’s feet onto my lap.

“So we decided we’d start over. Right from the very top. Your father had an assistant, Andrea. Her and her husband, Oscar, were moving to their summer home in San Diego. Can you imagine? Having a different home for different seasons?”

“Wait,” I said, some of the anxiety creeping back in. “Kane’s mom was my dad’s assistant?”

“For a time,” my mother confirmed. “So here they are, all their furniture is moved or sold off, and Andrea, she says we should use the house to renew our vows.”

“To start fresh,” I said.

“Exactly! So we have a ceremony. You wanted to dress up like a grown-up, so your papa, he bought you Strawberry Shortcake strawberry lip gloss. Very fancy!”

“Strawberry lip gloss?” I whispered.

“You were smacking your lips through the whole ceremony!” Mama laughed. “All our friends were there and this time no one gave us any trouble. Everyone saw the love we shared. And there were flowers, and the food! You’ve never seen so much food! You know, Sophie, it wouldn’t kill you to take some cooking lessons like your sister—”

“Mom, stay focused. What happened after the vows?”

“Our family came back together, that’s what! It was in this house that you got your papa back, and all of a sudden you weren’t so scared anymore.”

“I was safe,” I said. Leah stiffened and wiped her hands on her skirt. For all her bravado, I had always been her protector. She had come to my rescue on occasion, but we had both seen her efforts as an act of altruism or the expression of sisterly love. For me it was a job requirement, and while she frequently reveled in pointing out my imperfections, it was still disconcerting for her to hear me talk about my own need to feel safe.

“And so your father,” Mama continued, “he decided that since this was the house in which our family came back together, this was the house we should make our home.”

“Dad wanted to buy this place from Oscar and Andrea?” I asked.

“Want to? It was practically all he talked about! And Andrea was all for it, telling us to move our things in whenever we like—”

“Kane basically told me to do the same thing,” I murmured.

My mother watched me silently for a moment, the creases in her forehead deepening in concern. “You watch out for that one. He could be a crazy like his mother.”

“His mother was crazy?” I asked. Then I remembered the painting and realized what a stupid question that was.

“She was one of those artists, always getting passionate about the wrong things. Unfortunately, that husband of hers was getting passionate about the wrong woman! Here we all were, your father and I already looking at paint chips and then, all of a sudden, Oscar snaps his fingers and says the deal’s off. He’s moving back in, without Andrea! Almost everything of hers she had sold while planning for her move. The houses had been Oscar’s since before the marriage. I tell you that man left her with nothing! Your father wanted to help, but what could he do? So Oscar moved back into this house and we had to make our home somewhere else. That would be the home you remember growing up in. It was a good home, with its yard and big fancy bathrooms, but your father, he never fell in love with it the way he fell in love with this house here.”

“And now,” Leah chimed in, no longer so concerned with the rain or the ticking of the clock, “you’ve literally joined a group of poltergeist-loving lunatics and reacquainted yourself with your womanizing, irresponsible ex-husband all for the privilege of living in
this
house. We all know you’re good at denial, but this is taking it to a whole new level.”

“
Really,
Leah?” I asked. “How many years were you married to Bob? And how many women was he sleeping with? Don’t talk to me about denial!”

“I’m the younger sister,” she seethed. “If I have problems it’s because I learned them from you.”

“Right. Besides, your marriage didn’t count because you’re a wannabe-Israeli. Give. It. Up.”

“What is this?” Mama asked, raising her hands in protest. “Jerry Springer? So Sophie didn’t know exactly why she liked this house so much. She had just turned five when Papa and I renewed our vows. What do you want from her? The important thing is you know now,” she said, patting my hand affectionately.

“Tell her about Andrea,” Leah said curtly.

“Ah, yes, a real harlot that one turned out to be. As soon as Oscar left her she turned to your father. Support, he could give her. They were friends, after all. But I could tell she wanted more. A woman can sense these things. Soon everybody could see it. She called the house at all hours of the night. She would try to sneak pictures of herself into his coat pockets. Dirty pictures! There she was with her
tuchas
hanging out right in front of the camera!”

“It’s perverse,” Leah spat.

“You’re telling me! And did she drink! Always with the drinking! Your father had to fire her, but did that stop her from following us around? Everywhere we turned there she was. We were able to protect you
kinderlach
from her crazy antics, but she had me worried.”

“I’ll bet,” I breathed.

“But then we found out that Oscar had been threatening to have Andrea locked up in the loony bin and have Kane taken away from her. So your father tells her that if she doesn’t stop bothering us he’ll help Oscar do it!”

“Did it work?” Leah asked.

My mother nodded. “It took some time, but eventually your father found the ammunition he needed to convince her. She wasn’t so worried about losing Kane, but being locked up in a hospital? That she couldn’t handle. She had a tough time of it, that one. I’m not sure what happened to her, but she did stop bothering us, and that’s the important part.”

“How old was I when she finally left us alone?” I asked.

“No more than six, mamaleh.”

My mind raced back to the photographs I had found of my family at Kane’s. Had Kane’s mother taken all those? But that picture of Leah was taken when she was at least seven. So was my mother wrong? Had Andrea stalked us right up to the point when she decided to take her life?

But these were questions that neither Leah nor my mother could answer. I stroked Mr. Katz, envying the simplicity of his life. All I had wanted was a nice home with central heating. How had everything gotten so weird?

“Do you remember any of this now?” Leah asked.

“I remember the lip gloss,” I said. “Strawberry Shortcake lip gloss in a tin. I remember that part perfectly.” I looked up at the picture of me and my father, and for reasons I wasn’t willing to acknowledge or explain, I mouthed the words,
thank you.

18

When a spy is captured, he takes a suicide pill, believing it’s better to die than be tortured. By that reasoning shouldn’t those same pills be issued to anyone foolish enough to fall in love?

—
The Lighter Side of Death

LEAH AND MY MOTHER DIDN’T STAY LONG AFTER THAT. MY SISTER
wanted me to rethink my decision to buy the house. Vague sentiments from the past should not be the basis for financial decisions that could affect my future, she reasoned. It was very practical advice, except for one caveat. I was getting the house for an insanely low price. If I could cut through the drama being foisted upon me by Kane and Scott I would be able to count this sale as the best investment of my life. Unfortunately, the drama was getting almost Oedipal in both tone and scale. I suppose a reasonable person might wonder whether any real-estate investment was worth the hassle. The cost of a Victorian, three bedroom? Nine hundred eighty thousand dollars. The cost of my sanity? Priceless.

And yet I knew I wasn’t going to move. Outside it had become dark and the rain was heavier than ever, pounding against the pavement as if applauding my decision to stay. Of course, making a decision was one thing. Coming up with a plan to make that decision work was a whole other ball game. In order for me to do that, I was going to have to find a way to outsmart Kane, because I was now convinced that he had no intention of selling to me. He was undoubtedly out for revenge, using me as an instrument to avenge a mother so justly rejected by my father.

As I had walked my mother and Leah out to the car, I asked Mama exactly what ammunition Dad had used against Andrea.

My mother had smiled at me from under her plastic cap. “Your father was a clever one. He agreed to meet with Andrea. He got her to talk about all the crazy things she had been doing. What she didn’t know was your father was getting it all on tape! When he told her
that,
she knew she was kaput! I may still have that tape somewhere if you want it.”

And for about an hour I thought I had it all figured out. I would get the tape, splice it up and hand it over to Dena or Marcus. One of them would then hide in the house and play Andrea’s answers to my practiced questions. Kane, not knowing about the tape or my hidden friend would hear his mother’s “ghost” answering my questions and would then give me the house! And Dena was dating a DJ who liked to remix! Kim could splice the tape for me!

And then reality hit me like a punch to the gut. Kane was crazy, not stupid. He would hear that the voice of his mother was coming from another room and he would inevitably follow the sound. In short order he would discover my ruse and then he…well, God only knew what that freak would do.

I also couldn’t try the trick of getting Kane to admit something on tape the way my father had with Andrea. For one thing, Kane didn’t have a crush on me. He wasn’t going to admit to anything no matter how much I batted my eyes. For another, my father’s blackmail had worked because he was threatening to give the tape to Oscar and maybe a few men in white coats. But if I got Kane to admit to some illegality, the only people who would be interested in hearing his taped confession would be the police, and they were the only people who absolutely
couldn’t
listen to it. Taping someone without their knowledge, without a warrant, was illegal. Kane’s confession would be thrown out as inadmissible, and I would go to jail for getting it in the first place.

I was mulling all this over with a Cosmopolitan in hand when there was a knock on the door. At first I thought it was the wind, but when it gained in force and rhythm I knew someone was there. Mr. Katz and I looked at one another. With everything that was going on, another unexpected visitor was not a positive development. I took a large chug of my drink before getting up to go press my ear to the door. “Who is it?” I called.

“The man who saved your ass.”

I experienced the unexpected rush of relief. I hadn’t even realized that I had still been worried about Scott, but now that I knew he had gotten out of Kane’s place in one piece I felt like doing a little happy dance.

I threw open the door and took a step forward, ready to give him a big hug. And then I stopped short. What the hell was I doing? Scott was the bad guy I loved to hate. Sure, he had his moments, but hugging was definitely out. Silently, I stepped aside as he walked in.

He waited until he heard the door click closed before he turned back to me. “You can’t ever do that again.”

“I know it was rash, but—”

“Ever!” he thundered.

I stood there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot. I wasn’t used to Scott being this forceful or this serious. He looked over at the filled bookcase and then down at the half-filled box of novels that had yet to find a place. Without a word he walked over and started to take the books out of the bookcase and put them in the box.

I ran over to him and grabbed his arm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

“You’re not going to buy this place,” he said simply, shaking me off and grabbing another armful of books. “Start packing up your stuff.”

“Wait, who says I’m not buying this place?
Kane?
”

“No, me. I’m not brokering this deal for you. It’s off. I reserved a suite for you at the St. Francis hotel. You can stay there, figure out what you want to do. My treat. It’s the least I can do.”

“The least you can do is stop manhandling my things and help me buy this house! It’s mine, Scott!”

“Wrong! It’s Kane’s, and that guy is dangerous. If I had known that before I would never have gone through with any of this!”

“Any of what?”

“The sale, of course.” But before he said that there was a moment of hesitation. There was more to this.

“Scott, what aren’t you admitting to?”

“Look, this plan to have you buy Kane’s house? It’s
over!
The writing isn’t just on the wall, it’s written in blood! There is no more negotiating. No more escrow. No more anything! Start acting like you have half a brain and start packing!”

And just like that I slapped him. The sound of my palm smashing against his cheek almost had a musical quality to it.

Like the first lone beat of a song that was destined to rock.

“You slapped me!” he whined. “You never slap me.”

“That was then. This is now. So why don’t you stop insulting me and tell me what it is you’re not saying.”

Scott ran one hand over his cheek, the other still holding one of my books. “I just want to protect you. That’s all.”

“That’s not your job anymore.”

We stood there in a face-off for what seemed like an eternity. Then Scott finally looked down at the book he was holding. “
The Great Gatsby.
I always wished I was more like him.”

“Who? Gatsby? You know he doesn’t get the girl, don’t you? He ends up alone in his big old mansion without any real friends.”

“Yeah, but in the end you love him despite all his shit. Everybody loves Gatsby.” He looked up at me. “Kane doesn’t care if you killed Enrico or not. He never did. He just wants you to prove to him that you can contact ghosts.”

“I realize that lying to me is par for the course with you, but why did you lie about this?”

“I knew that if I had told you that Kane wasn’t going to sign over the house unless you proved your abilities as a medium you would have pushed me to tell you why Kane was so certain you were a medium to begin with,” he babbled. “Sure, you knew he had his suspicions based on his own whacked beliefs, but that he was certain of it…that would have required an explanation. But by telling you that he didn’t want to sell to a murder suspect and the only way I could imagine overriding that concern was if you convinced him you could talk to ghosts, well, I thought you would take that as an opportunity to win Kane over by faking him out.”

Scott was being borderline incoherent now. A sure sign that he was hiding something.

“I didn’t think you would go out and try to solve Enrico’s murder,” he went on. “But then again we’ve been out of touch for a while and you seem to be the kind of person who, with every year of age, becomes a little more comfortable with risk. By the time you’re ninety you’ll be jumping out of airplanes and eating blowfish.”

I stepped back and gave him a critical once-over. “You buried the lead.”

“Excuse me?”

“Why should I be suspicious, Scott? Why is Kane certain that I’m a medium?”

“Who knows? Maybe he thinks it was predicted in one of the rare texts of Nostradamus. Or maybe…” His voice trailed off.

“Maybe what, Scott?”

“Maybe he’s certain you’re a medium because I told him you were.”

“Goddammit, Scott!” I yelled, sorely tempted to slap him again. “Why would you do something that stupid?”

“After his dad died, Kane wasn’t going to sell you the house, Sophie! I knew you wanted it and I knew Kane wasn’t going to go for it, not for the price you wanted to pay for it.”

“I would have found a way to pay more!”

“And so would have a lot of other people. Look around you, Sophie. The housing market in this country is a mess, but not in San Francisco. Houses like this in this city are like diamonds in South Africa. People will kill for them.”

“So what are you saying? That out of the goodness of your heart you decided to lie to Kane and later to me so I could get the house on the cheap?”

“Pretty much.”

“And now you not only expect me to believe that you lied for my own good, but that you actually have a heart. Talk about suspension of disbelief.”

“Like I said, I owe you and I…I don’t hate you.”

“Wow, Scott. I’m touched.”

“Well, you hate me, right? I screwed up, and you decided to hate me, end of story. I’m not like that. Love and hate have never been the flip side of the same coin for me.”

“What makes you think they are for me? Just because I once told you I loved you doesn’t mean I meant it.”

“Ouch! That’s cold!” But he was grinning, a sure sign that he wasn’t buying my line.

“Better cold than stupid. Stupid would be telling a man that the woman he’s about to sell a house to is a medium when she’s not.”

“Right, well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Kane wants to put it in the escrow agreement that you have to come up with some suitable evidence that you have been able to contact the ghost of a former resident, preferably his mother. Now, I don’t think he can legally do that, but what he
can
do is just back out of escrow, and, I gotta tell you, I think that’s for the best.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Scott slammed
The Great Gatsby
back on the bookshelf. “You were there, right? You heard him when he talked about that painting. We all need to dissociate from this guy and pray that he leaves us alone.”

“I will…as soon as I get the deed. Tell me, what are the chances that Kane is the one who killed Enrico?”

“You think so?” he asked. “I don’t know why he would, but I guess anything’s possible. We could talk to the police about it.”

“No, not yet. Now, if I understand our agreement correctly, as soon as he signs something saying I have been respectful of the house he no longer has the right to take it away from me, even if he does pay me $20,000, right?”

“Well, we did change the word
respectful
to
good caretaker,
although the term is just as ambiguous and he can’t just sign something. It’s a specific document that we had drawn up, but for the most part, yes, that’s basically how it works. Before that, he can also kick you out whenever he wants if he signs another specific document saying your caretaking abilities aren’t so hot. I’m paraphrasing, of course.”

“Right, so this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to convince Kane that I have been talking to his evil mommy. As we work on that, we are going to figure out if it was Kane who killed Enrico and if he had anything to do with what happened to Oscar.”

“Why would we do something like that?”

“Because deed or no, I’m going to have to get rid of Kane. He has it in for me big-time. In fact, I think he may have it in for my whole family, and as you pointed out, he’s a whack-job. But if I can prove that he’s been killing people then he’ll go to prison and I won’t have to worry about it for another ten to twenty, if ever. So the two objectives are get the house and then get Kane, in that order.”

Scott walked over to the fireplace and peered into the ashes. “There are so many problems with this plan I don’t even know where to begin.”

“It’ll work.”

“No, I do know where to begin. How are you going to prove to Kane that you can commune with ghosts? You think you can bullshit him? Or have you recently been in touch with the dead?”

I walked to his side and picked up the tin of lip gloss that I had left on the mantel. “It’s easy to convince people of something they want to believe.”

“And you expect me to help you with this?”

“I do.”

“And why would I do that?”

Smiling, I put down the lip gloss and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. “You’ll do it because you don’t hate me, Scott. And because if you don’t help me I can, and will, kick your ass.”

“Don’t tease me with your sexy tough talk, Sophie. I’m a man of very little willpower.” In one swift move he pulled me close. I groaned and was all set to pull myself away and scold him. But I didn’t do that because I was distracted by the door. It was opening.

I still should have pushed him away, but the shock of seeing Anatoly glaring at me froze me in place.

He turned around and walked right back out. The sound of the door slamming was louder than any clap of thunder. It was that sound that spurred me into action.

“I have to go after him,” I said, quickly freeing myself.

“Why? Because he caught us hugging? Give me a break!” He grabbed me by the waist, holding me back as I attempted to leave. “Sophie, it’s pouring out there. You can’t go out without a jacket.”