THE IT PARADE
BY
J
INX
W
IATT
Â
Fill in the Blanks
Â
Having friends with money doesn't mean you won't find yourself flat broke. Just ask the gorgeous Black American Princess who's cohosting that new buzz-building TV chat hour. Her gal pal is an old money heiress with a modeling gig that pays point money. Her new beau is an entertainmentmogul with a fleet of cars to his name, not to mention his own private jet. Meanwhile, the cash-strappedgirl in question has been reduced to returning merchandise to snooty boutiques to pay off her sky-high bills. It's not necessarily the company you keep, darlings.
20
Simone
“I felt like a single mother before, so I hardly think this will be a radical adjustment,”Tilly was saying. “And I plan on petitioningfor full custody, of course. Dean Paul couldn't care for a Chia Pet properly. I've done everything as it relates to Cantaloupe's care.”
“Where is she now?” Simone asked.
“With the nanny,”Tilly said. “The one that
I
interviewed and hired. I'm telling you, I do
everything
. He packed an overnightbag when he left, and he's almost completely moved out. There are some clothes left but not much else. The furnishingsin our apartment are things I picked out with the decorator. Again, he barely sat in on a single meeting. He was never truly invested in the marriage. All the signs were there, but I just chose to ignore them.” She sighed deeply. “Okay, I've gone on and on about me.What's going on with you?”
“I've been so stressed lately,” Simone began. “I got overextendedon myâ”
“Did I tell you that I called your fellow cohost?”Tilly cut in. “Emily.”
“Emma,” Simone corrected.
“Whatever,” Tilly huffed. “Anyway, I called her right up and told her she could have Dean Paul. And then later that very same night she broke up with that geriatric magazine publishershe was dating.” Tilly shook her head. “So pathetic. If they get together, I give it a month.” She glanced at her near empty wineglass and rudely snapped her fingers to a passing waitress. “Do I have to fly to the Napa Valley and stomp grapes, or can you fix this problem?” She tapped the rim of her glass with a manicured nail.
The waitress was momentarily taken aback. “I'll see about it right away. What were you drinking?”
“I thought that was your job to know things like that,” Tilly snapped. “You'll have to ask our runaway waiter. I haven't seen him in ages. He's probably in the bathroom getting stoned.”
Simone was appalled. In a meager attempt to overcompensate,she gave the waitress a reassuring look.
Tilly cast an annoyed glance around the restaurant. “The service used to be so much better here.”
Simone said nothing. They were at Pastis in the MeatpackingDistrict, and the service wasâas alwaysâimpeccable.
The waitress swooped back with more red wine.
“Now that wasn't so difficult, was it, dear?” Tilly murmured.She beamed a direct look at Simone. “You were sayingsomething?”
“Yes,” Simone launched in again. “I got overextended onâ”
“WaitâI almost forgot,”Tilly interrupted. “This breakup with Dean Paul is happening
just
in the nick of time. Seriously. I feel like Kiefer Sutherland in an episode of
24
. He just got the ax from
Hollywood Live
. Is there anything worse than an unemployed husband and father? Can you imagine being married to that? It'd be like living in a black neighborhood.”
Simone tensed up immediately. “
Excuse me?
”
“Oh, Simone, please,” Tilly said dismissively. “Everybody knows that most black women are forced to raise their childrenalone because the fathers are either in jail or playing basketballin the park during what should be productive work hours. There was a study. I heard about it on talk radio.”
Simone was surprised by her own reaction. Though never one to fall in line behind Al Sharpton and march in protest against injustices to black people, she was still insulted by Tilly's diatribe. She raised a halting hand. “I'm offended.”
“Oh, me, too,” Tilly went on, completely oblivious. “And you don't even have a baby. Yesterday, I saw a black woman struggling with her stroller and trying to get it down the steps of a subway entrance. No father in sight to lend a hand. In a way I could relate. Basically, I'm in the same position now. Maybe that makes me an honorary
sista
or something.” She laughed a little and drank more wine. “I should do a seminar for them at The Learning Annex. You know, give the black girls some tips on being strong and raising a child alone. Take last night. I had this adorable interactive playpen delivered for Cantaloupe. Of course, it required assembly. I'm worthless. Nanny Veronika is more so. The Honduran housekeeper can barely speak a word of English, much less read it. And there are no instructions translated into Spanish. Only French and Japanese. Go figure. So I'm about to have a nervous breakdown,and then I remember reading about that Rent-A-Guy service in the Style section of the
Times
. I call, they send a very handy college boy over, he puts the playpen together within minutes, I write him a check for seventy-five dollars, and the crisis is solved.”
“I might be going out on a limb here,” Simone began dryly, “but I don't think unwed black mothers should be your target audience for this seminar.”
Tilly paused in thoughtful consideration. “You're probablyright.They'd never be able to afford Rent-A-Guy.And why torture them with talk of a service beyond their means? It'd be like showing them my jewelry. An exercise in cruelty to say the least.”
“The very least,” Simone grumbled.
“Oh!”Tilly exclaimed. “You got me off track. I was
trying
to tell you about the timing of giving up on Dean Paul.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I suspect that he might have peaked. Now to be fair, he still looks good. Scrumptious, in fact. He's in phenomenal shape and will age like a dreamâthe bastard. But he's just meandering, you know? He has no real purpose. And he's at the point in life where suddenly that quality is very unattractive, almost pathetic. I'm not sure women even find him that appealing anymore.And I'm speakingof women with high standards like myself. There will alwaysbe bar trash who want their way with him and romantic obsessives like Emily.”
“
Emma
.”
Tilly rolled her eyes. “
Whatever
. But I think his Lothario ways have just grown tiresome. Even the columnists are done. They're so bored with him that they've reduced the gossip to floating around these gay rumors about Dean Paul and Finn. And for what? To create a modicum of excitement? I'm just thankful for the ironclad pre-nup. What's mine is mine. What's his is his. And the apartment deed is in
my
name, thank God. My parents gave it to
me
as a wedding gift. It should be a clean break. Except for Cantaloupe. But I'll fight him to the death on that issue. I've already retained all the A-list family lawyers in the city, so he'll have to go second-tier for representation.I'm not worried about it, though. He's a perpetualadolescent. Any judge will see that. I kicked him out of the apartment, and instead of checking into a hotel like an adult, he goes over to Finn's apartment to sleep on the couch. I mean, really, how frat boy.”
“But is he a good father?” Simone asked.
Tilly reflected on the question.“Cantaloupe
does
adore him. Her face lights up whenever he's around. And I suppose he could be described as affectionate and attentive toward her.”
“So why do battle on the issue of custody?” Simone argued.“
You
may be divorcing him, but your daughter isn't.”
Tilly's lips tightened into a firm line. “It's very complicated,Simone.”
“It sounds pretty simple to me. Put Cantaloupe's best interestahead of your ego ... if that's possible.”
Tilly glared at her. “Exactly what frame of reference do you have? As far as I can see, the only living thing you're responsiblefor besides yourself is a stupid cat.”
“Which I don't have a twenty-four-hour sitter for,” Simone shot back.
Tilly shook her head, as if dismissing Simone altogether. “Honestly, I should be discussing this issue with someone who actually has a child. Now you were saying something about being stressed out and overextended? Let's move on to that, shall we?”
Simone just looked at her.
“And if this is a lead-in to you asking me for money, then stop before you start. It's my personal policy
not
to loan money to friends. Mixing the two can get very messy. And I can't be swayed, either, no matter what the circumstances are.”
“I don't
need
a loan. It's true that I'm a bit strapped for cash at the moment, but my agent found me some lucrative opportunities that work around my schedule for
The Beehive
.”
Tilly exchanged waves across the bistro with a junior socialite type. “We're on the host committee for a Pompe diseasefund-raiser, and she was a no-show for the sponsors party. So tacky. She's just in it for the social angle. Doesn't care a thing about the cause.”
“What is Pompe disease?” Simone asked.
“Some kind of gene mutation. I'm not really sure. It's very serious, though. Fatal in most cases.You should make a donation.”Tilly cast a vicious glance as the waiter flitted past. “How long does it take to make a fucking salad? I'm starving.”She sipped more wine. “I'm going to be drunk, too, if I don't get some food in my system.What were we talking about? Oh, your new
opportunities
. Please tell me you're not still signed with that awful Sue woman with the ugly last name. She's wretched. All she does is push soap actors for mall appearancesand stupid ribbon cuttings.You could do much better.Especially now with the show getting so much attention.”
Simone said nothing.
“Are you still with her?” Tilly asked, her face a mask of horror. “God, you poor thing. I'd give you a referral to my agency, but I don't believe in those kind of favors. Nobody paved the way for me to sign with my agent. I earned his intereston my own accord. So what kind of project has super-agent
Sue
found for you?”
“It's for Target. I'm still waiting on the details.”
“For your sake I hope it's a commercial and not a store opening. Can you imagine? All those people lining up for an autograph and first day bargains? Dreadful.”
“As long as they're paying my fee, I don't care. Anyway, the important thing is thisâI would
never
ask
you
for money,” Simone said acidly. “No matter what the circumstances were.”
“Good,” Tilly replied crisply. “That means we respect each other.”
Simone fought the urge to scream as she wondered why the two of them even bothered to go through the motions anymore.
The waiter returned with their lunchesâa grilled vegetablesalad for Tilly and the seared salmon with lentils and shitake mushrooms for Simone. Now at least they could concentrateon something besides the impossible task of trying to communicate with each other.
“So did you ever have dinner with Kevon Edmonds?”
The mention of his name brought an unexpectedâand involuntaryâsmile to Simone's face.
“I'll take that as a yes,”Tilly trilled. “Do tell.”
“He's not what I expected at all. Very rough around the edges, which I typically don't like. I've always preferred more sophisticated men.”
Tilly gave her a puzzled look. “I'd hardly call Tommy Robb
sophisticated
. Didn't he go straight from high school into the pros?”
Simone bypassed the question. “As I was saying ... Kevon has that street edge, but he also has a very sweet, protectivequality about him. And his success is undeniable. It's almost awe-inspiring the way he came from nothing to where he is today. I don't know. I find him intriguing.” She moved the mushrooms around with her fork. “But ...”
“There's always a but,” Tilly said, her tone all knowing. “Put it on the table. I'll let you know whether or not it's a deal breaker. I'm good at this.”
Simone wavered for a moment. “I'm not interested in being part of a harem or filling the
classy
girl slot in his lineup of women. And that's sort of the sense that I get. Another woman he sees confronted me outside the studio. At one point, I thought she was going to assault me.” The revolting image of Luscious Brown flashed in Simone's mind. “Ugh. This woman was vile. She looked like a street hooker from Central Casting, and every other word out of her mouth was bitch and ho. I still can't reconcile the fact that we're interestedin the same guy.”