“You’re denying Nana the chicken dance and hiring an accordion player. It’s every Italian grandmother’s dream to have an accordion at the wedding. She told me so.”
“Max, you are not helping,” I say.
“You know, what is your nana’s maiden name, Lilly? I always thought it was weird your last name was Jacobs. How Italian is that?” Poppy asks.
“It’s Puccinelli, actually.” She raises her eyebrows to Max. “Does that scare you?”
“Not if she taught you to make lasagna like that.” He pats his stomach.
Lilly purses her lips. “You eat lasagna like that every night, and you’ll look like Pavarotti. Is that your goal?”
“I’m a TV writer. It’s almost expected that I be a couch potato.”
Lilly eyes Max’s strong, muscular body and wiggles her eyebrows. “As if I’ll let you get away with that. I did not marry eye candy for nothing. My papa did not live a long life, Max. Remember that when you’re going for seconds.”
The two of them smile and zone into each other, grasping each other’s hands. I’m disgusted. I mean, do I really need to be witness to this? It’s like my lawyer having abs of steel. What is the point of that? God says He’ll never send me a temptation I can’t stand under, but you know, I do believe I am reaching my weight limit.
“Can we get this over with?” I hear it come out of my mouth, but I’m as stunned as anyone I said it. I am usually the epitome of decorum. Something is not right here. I think the fog is affecting my brain. Of course, there is no fog tonight, but maybe the invisible stuff is worse for you.
Poppy and I follow Max and Lilly, feeling completely out of place, but silently hoping there’s a little lasagna left. It’s just what I need to make me feel better: abs of veal.
Mrs. Schwartz is at the doorway, and in a split second, I see her gaze scan Lilly’s frame and come back up with a warm, albeit fake smile. I’d know that princesslike you-can’t-tell-what-I’m-thinking smile anywhere. I have perfected it.
“Lilly Jacobs, aren’t you just beautiful?” Mrs. Schwartz grabs Lilly’s hands, pulling her from Max’s grip. “Well, you just must tell me how you met my son.”
I have been friends with Lilly too long to not know what she wants to say. What she wants to say is that she hog-tied him and poured alcohol down his throat until he confessed his love. I see her sly smile towards Poppy and me, and we start to giggle. Sometimes, it’s really not a good thing to be so in tune with your warped friends.
“There’s not much to tell actually. He rented the apartment to my nana, and we just got to know each other over time. When he broke his leg at the hotel, I helped care for him.”
“Isn’t that sweet? Just like Florence Nightingale.” Mrs. Schwartz looks to me and Poppy. She focuses in on me and drops Lilly’s hands. “Morgan Malliard, is that you?”
I nod, biting my lip.
“Max, I didn’t know you were friends with Morgan.” Mrs. Schwartz walks away from Lilly and stands before me. She’s wearing a flawless diamond the size of a bottle cap, and it completely distracts me from her face. I know how much that diamond is worth, because I can see all the facets, all the light and colors gleaming under the dim light and there’s not a spot to be seen.
“Perfect,” I say aloud.
“Mr. Schwartz bought it for me in Barbados. It is perfect, but then, I’d guess you’d know.”
I pull my gaze away from the diamond and focus on her deep brown eyes. They’re so much like her son’s, only far more critical. I see that Max and Lilly have one more thing in common. They were both raised under the watchful eye of female hawks.
“Mrs. Schwartz.” I nod pleasantly. “Lilly and I went to Stanford together. She helped me with my studies.”
“You might have taken a lesson from her in dating. She appears to be more accomplished in that arena.”
That was below the belt.
“Not all of us can attract the attention of Max Schwartz. There’s only one of him, after all.” Fake-princess-smile right back atcha.
“Mom, Nana.” Max claps his hands and forces everyone’s attention toward him. He walks over to Lilly and puts his arm around her. “I know you’re all expecting an announcement of sorts, but I think what we have for you is not what you’re expecting.”
“I don’t like surprises, Lilly and Max.” Nana drops a wooden spoon she’d been drying and wipes her hands on her apron. Her expression softens. “Unless of course, you’re going to tell me something I’ve been waiting to hear.”
Max draws in a deep breath, sticking his chest out. “Lilly and I have lived our lives alone for a long time. I’m thirty-five, she’s thirty, and we’re people who know what we want.”
I wish I could crawl under the sofa about now. Lilly’s hands are trembling, and the two elder women do not look like they’re willing to hear whatever’s about to come.
Mrs. Schwartz lifts her chin and gives a tight smile. “What is it you want, Max? I would think your lives are both very successful and that you should take time to be grateful.” Her smile fades. “You’re not going on one of those ridiculous mission trips, are you?”
Max laughs. “No, Mother, God hasn’t called us to the mission field—although I wouldn’t rule it out just yet.”
“Us?” Mrs. Schwartz asks. “Did you get a pet, my dear?”
Max gets fed up with the constant barrage and blurts out the truth. “Us, Mother. My wife and me. Lilly and I got married over a month ago. We went up to Tahoe and did it because we didn’t want the fuss. All right?” He tightens his clasp on Lilly, who looks ready to faint.
Poppy and I stand there looking from Max’s mom to Nana, waiting to see who takes the first strike. Since Nana seems to be momentarily stricken with apoplexy, it falls to Mrs. Schwartz. Her face tightens and a muscle starts to tic in her jaw, but she waits until she’s paced the length of the room before she speaks. “I see,” she says quietly. “I must say I’m surprised.”
She looks at Lilly. “If for nothing else that you design wedding gowns for a living, and yet you eloped to Tahoe.”
She’s looking at Lilly as if she’s the ultimate betrayer. I suppose Lilly was nice enough when she wasn’t a part of the family.
“Max, you’re one of San Francisco’s leading bachelors. You’re just going to walk away from that with no fanfare whatsoever? How am I supposed to explain this?”
“I imagine you’ll do it the same way you told the world I wasn’t involved in the family business. I’m the black sheep.”
“Lilly Jacobs!” Nana’s found her voice. Poppy’s and my heads swing to her like we’re watching a tennis match. “Lilly Jacobs, this had better be a joke.” Her face is as red as a ripe tomato, and all sense of peace has left the room. Both she and Mrs. Schwartz are now pacing, but when Max’s mother sees her own reaction is the same as Nana’s, she halts in her steps.
With a nod at each other, Max and Lilly split to their respective fights. Lilly takes her nana to one side, and they begin to whisper in loud, ugly tones. I see Mrs. Schwartz sit beside her son and pat his leg. The one he broke in three places and still limps on. Her expression has softened, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s only because she doesn’t want to be associated with Nana’s behavior. But I literally witness the fight leave her as she looks at her son and pats his leg again.
“She’s a sweet girl,” Mrs. Schwartz says while watching Lilly defend herself against Nana. Truthfully, I’m not sure she means it, but it’s obviously a way to get through to her son. “I think you’ll be very happy. You might want to find Nana a new place to live, though.”
Mother and son laugh. Max pulls back and says, “Do you mean that?”
She smiles. “I want what all moms want. I want my son to be happy, and if Lilly Jacobs—excuse me, Lilly Schwartz— makes you happy? That makes me happy. But if you’re still into praying, I’d ask that you get your father an heir. He was worried you might be gay, so I imagine this will come as a pleasant surprise. That’s why he sent you that beautiful Russian girl. Once you rejected her, he was convinced.”
I see Max considering telling the rest of their news and deciding to wait. He laughs out loud. “She is gorgeous, isn’t she, Mom?” he says, watching Lilly, whose hands are flailing as she talks to Nana.
“Did you give her Grandmother’s ring?”
He nods. “It’s being sized.”
“I knew it was coming, once you gave the matching brooch, so I’m not completely surprised.”
“How will you tell your friends?”
“Oh please, everyone’s kid is living with this person or that. They’ll be more mortified you got married. It’s so old-fashioned.”
I watch mother and son giggle together, and I try to remember when I ever had such a conversation with my father. Even watching Lilly with her Nana makes me long for what they have.
“At least you didn’t marry that flighty Malliard girl.”
The two of them stop speaking and look at me.
Poppy takes my hand. “Well, pleasure seeing you all. Morgan and I have to run. She’s got a big job interview tomorrow. Big job interview.”
“No, I don’t have to rush off,” I say, unwilling to be bullied by restless talk.
Poppy looks at me. “Don’t you think we should leave?”
I shake my head, “She’s got a right to her opinion. We’re here for Lilly.”
At the sound of her name, Lilly looks up from her conversation and puts her arms around her Nana. “So we’re going to have a small wedding gathering for friends after the Red &White Ball.”
Nana is still beet red. She starts cleaning up pans (loudly) in the kitchen.
“So, thanks for coming, girls!” Max says, giving us our path out, for which we are grateful.
We give him and Lilly hugs and polite good-byes to Mrs. Schwartz and Nana and then Poppy yanks me from the room. I clutch my hand into a fist, feeling the blue diamond around my right-hand ring finger.
“That Mrs. Schwartz is a piece of work. Max would be lucky to have you, Morgan, you know that?”
“It’s all right, Poppy. It’s nothing I don’t know. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think her husband got any sort of deal either.”
“What do you care what that elitist crowd thinks anymore? One good thing about being poor, you won’t have to hang out with them anymore.”
Poppy opens her despicable tapestry bag, which looks like it’s from a carpetbagger during Civil War times. It’s just as old, and just as ugly. “We got you something.” She hands me an envelope.
“For what?”
“Because you need it, and that’s what we do as Spa Girls. We stick together no matter what. You seemed depressed, and you didn’t get your spa time this morning when we rushed Lilly home. She felt bad.”
I rip open the envelope and it’s a gift certificate for Blooms. My favorite spa in the city. “Oh Poppy, how on earth did you have time for this?”
“We have our priorities straight. I know you don’t need it right now, but I didn’t want you to be stopped by what’s going on if you need it in the future.”
“Isn’t that just what a girl under federal indictment needs— a facial?” I cannot believe my life has come to this. My friends buying me charity spa treatments.
“Yes, actually it is just what a girl needs. That’s why we bought it.” Poppy closes up her dirty sack, and we’re on our way. The two single Spa Girls on the town.
I
t didn’t really bother me at the time that Lilly’s mother-in-law dissed me. If anything, I thought,
Good, this takes some
of the pressure off Lilly
. But the more I thought about it the more ticked I got. To say she’s happy her son didn’t marry me? In front of me? I don’t know what charm school she hails from, but she left the charm there. If I’ve learned anything about society it’s to maintain an image publicly. Maybe she’s just old and cranky, I don’t know, but I hate how everyone’s declared open season on Morgan Malliard. I have feelings. I have struggles.
But of course, we created this image. We only wanted people to covet my father’s latest piece, not actually find out what I felt.
Regardless, I’m glad I have this job interview this morning. I wonder if all this stuff happened when I was in the penthouse, and I just never noticed.
At the moment I’m focused on what to wear to the interview: Chloe is out.
Gucci is out.
Prada is definitely out.
Even Lilly Jacobs’ designs are not necessarily right for a nanny position. This would be a good job on the clothing budget, and considering that I don’t have one right now, I think that’s a good thing. From what I understand, it’s dirty work—lot of climbing around on the floor and flung-food avoidance. Lilly and Poppy found it hilarious that I was going for a nanny position, but I really don’t see what’s so funny. I was a kid once. I had a nanny. I know how things are supposed to go.
I rifle through what Lilly has for me and finally choose the pair of jeans she made me and a flowing sage green shirt she made from scraps. With the cowboy boots, I am completely ready to shine. Mary Poppins, eat your heart out.
I arrive on the doorstep of Mrs. Keller and the house is quite luxurious. It’s in the Pacific
Heights part of town, and backs up to the Presidio. As far as addresses go, I must say, the CFO business must be pretty good, even in start-up mode.
I brush my hair back after ringing the doorbell and shake out my shoulders, rolling my head around and cracking my neck. I’m so nervous. This is an actual job interview. Granted, it isn’t the job I thought I’d be going for with my Stanford degree, but I’m here, and I’m excited.
Mrs. Keller answers the door with two little girls at her feet, each yanking on her for attention. They both look up at me suspiciously.
Their mother’s weary expression is evident. Mrs. Keller is tall and lithe, albeit a little emaciated; her tiny frame looks worn and haggard. I wonder when her last good meal was (Mrs. Henry could fill her out quickly). She doesn’t have a stitch of makeup on, and her long light-brown hair is in tangles over her shoulders.
The little girls, in contrast, are perfectly dressed in matching knit dresses with coordinating bows at the crown of their heads.
I bend down to greet the little tow-headed blondes, and they run behind their mother.
“You’re Morgan?” the mother sighs.
“I am,” I say as I stand and stick my hand out to meet her.