Claire Voyant (14 page)

But the most revealing of all was the heart-shaped pillow on the couch by Drew's computer. It read,
And they lived happily ever after
. And in a tiny heart, their little initials were stitched.
MF. DF.

Wait, wait, wait. She wasn't an
F
yet. She was still a
B
for Becker. How presumptuous of Marly to be advertising her new last initial before the wedding. Still, I had to hand it to her. They'd hit a big bump in the relationship road, and somehow she'd managed to get Drew to drive back to her. (Maybe that's why he said she was so much smarter than him.)

I could only hope that one day I would be this sure of a relationship. Or at least confident enough to go through every room of my boyfriend's bachelor pad, girl it all up, and not panic that maybe I'd jeopardized his testosterone level.

 

Viktor was right. Drew's bathroom was so heavenly and unique, I felt like an awestruck tourist. Too bad I couldn't buy postcards at the gift shop, or at least have snapped a few souvenir shots of my own. Sydney would have gotten such a kick out of seeing the gold-leaf basins, the domed skylights, and the private bidet for the ladies.

And that was before discovering the doors leading to the sauna, the his-and-her toilets, the dressing areas, and my favorite find, a special room for spa treatments and massages.

But what we both would have drooled over was the cylindrical shower stall situated right in the center of the bathroom. I swear it looked like it could sleep six, and fly to the moon.

I had never been this excited to bathe. I just hoped that (1) I could manage to take an entire shower without fainting, and (2) I could figure out how to turn the damn faucets on without the powerful showerheads blowing me right out the door.

To my surprise, it was child's play. And I couldn't help but giggle like a child. This was heaven. A vichy shower, hot steam, and three choices of body washes, including the peppermint scent that Viktor liked so much. I never wanted to come out. In fact, the only thing that was missing was an attendant to hand me a warm, plush towel….

…Or maybe not. The glass doors were now so moist with vapor, funny shadows appeared, and I swear to God I saw an attendant waiting for me…a male attendant.

A MALE ATTENDANT? Please God. Let it be another hallucination, like in the ambulance. But from what I could make out through the billowing steam, I was not imagining this. And then it hit me. Viktor! Who else knew I would be here alone…and naked? The psycho driver had set me up: Kept the keys. Told me not to bother with a hotel. It was fine to shower at Drew's. And told me to be sure to use this bathroom,
the others weren't as special
. Oh God…and to try the peppermint soap, so I smelled nice when the kinky bastard raped me…or worse.

As the figure move closer, I started to scream. I couldn't believe it. My young life was going to end bloody, just like the shower scene in
Psycho.
The very movie that had tormented me since childhood. Yet Janet Leigh's cries sounded like a whimper compared to mine.

Then the shower door opened, and even in my unclad and vulnerable state, my instinct was to try to strangle the man with my bare hands. But he was too strong to overtake. In a second, my left arm
was behind my back and I felt the man's hot breath on me. I was just about to aim for his groin when I heard my name…with no trace of a Russian accent.

“Drew?” I pushed the steam away. “Oh my God. You scared the crap out of me!”

“I scared you?” He laughed, obviously relieved.

“What are you doing here?” I was practically panting.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” He let go. “I live here. Remember?”

He tried to be a gentleman, but a wet, naked blonde is pretty much at the top of the male fantasy chain, and the guy was only human. “What are
you
doing here?” His voice was softer now.

“I'm sorry. I am so sorry. You have to let me explain. I'm in the middle of a huge mess with my family, and I needed a place to shower. Viktor didn't think you'd mind—”

“It's okay. It's fine.” He reached for a towel. “Here. Put this on. You're shivering. I'm just glad you weren't…I thought it was somebody else.”

An old girlfriend, perhaps?
“Thank you.” I wrapped myself in the soft bath sheet. “We thought you weren't coming back until later.”

“I wasn't supposed to. But Marly and her mom thought I should put on something nicer for tonight.”

Poor guy was screwed! For the rest of his married life, he would be double-teamed. But why rub it in?

“It's so funny.” I switched gears. “I was just thinking, the only possible thing this bathroom was missing was an attendant.”

“Anytime.” He blushed. “You have an amazing—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” I shook my finger. “That's no way to talk to your first cousin.”

“My first cousin?” He laughed. “Oh, right. Last night at Pops' place…. But that was just a story I made up.”

“So we thought,” I sighed. “But what would you say if I told you it might be true?”

T
ALK ABOUT
C
OMPROMISING
P
OSITIONS
. G
REAT BOOK, BUT
I
DON'T
remember Susan Isaacs putting her main character in the humiliating situation in which I found myself.

While standing in nothing but a towel in Drew's bathroom, and just after dropping that little announcement to him about the possibility that we were related, guess who walked in? Marly and her mother, Sharon the Shadow. “Oh shit,” was right.

Oddly, instead of my focusing on the fact that this was a very embarrassing, hard-to-explain situation, all I did was stare. The two looked so much alike, with their tiny birdlike frames and features. Small hands, small feet (how I envied anyone who didn't walk around with short skis at the ends of their ankles), great green eyes the color of dill, and silky auburn hair that had that did-they-or-didn't-they-just-spend-sixty-bucks-on-a-blowout-look. Even their little Louie pocketbooks matched.

It's not that I didn't know girls who were knockoffs of their mothers. It's that I was suddenly blue. I had never experienced that sort of connectedness, the biological billboard that flashed:
We belong to each other
. I would have loved for my mother and I to look like we played on the same team.

Meanwhile, this mother-daughter team had locked arms and was demanding an explanation. I did my best to keep my story simple,
that Viktor made the suggestion I shower here, but a nervous Drew was more anxious to get his point across, which was that he had no idea I would be here. In fact, he thought I was an intruder.

A hysterical Marly didn't buy it. She'd been here before and automatically assumed the worst. Sharon, too, was beside herself: How many second chances did Drew think he was going to get, and didn't he realize the wedding invitations were going to be mailed in six weeks, and why the hell did he have to be what her late mother called “such a hard dog to keep on the porch”?

As I looked on, I was so overcome with anguish, so fatigued, I just wanted to curl up in a big fluffy spa robe and time-travel back to L.A.

Back to the days when I'd complain to Sydney that nothing exciting ever happened to me.

Back to when I'd watch Dr. Phil and throw Nerf balls at the TV every time he reduced a New Jersey housewife to tears.

Back to driving on the 405 in my trusty Honda Accord, coffee-stained carpets and all, but with my cherished CD collection, and the box of Coffee Nips hidden in the storage bin.

Back to Santa Monica, eating at a hot new restaurant with friends, while secretly sending daggers to the girls who were lucky enough to have even ugly dates paying those eye-popping checks.

Back to those fancy red-carpet movie premieres that took all day to get ready for, and that offered the hope of being spotted by a producer who happened to be on the lookout for an actress for her next film who looked just like me.

I did not want to be in deep distress thinking that my real mother had abandoned me, or that my new home address would be an assisted living center, where I'd be required to play bingo and never eat dinner after six again.

I wanted to pretend that these past few days in hell were an aberration. A little blip on life's radar that would one day be fodder for a short story I'd call, “If Only I'd Sat in 9B.”

If only, indeed.

 

“I can explain everything,” I finally cried over the din in the bathroom. “Please. Just let me tell you what happened. But first, is there a bathrobe I can put on?”

Marly sniffed and ran to Drew's dressing room. “Here.” She handed me a white terry robe. “Take Drew's. Mine wouldn't fit you.”

“Thank you.” I smiled graciously, though I felt like bitch-slapping her for that unkind cut. Instead, I did something out of Sydney's un-inhibited playbook. I casually dropped my towel. Treated them all to an R-rated full-frontal nudity scene before putting on the robe.

“Oh my God,” Sharon cried.

“I can't believe this is happening.” Marly gawked longer than anyone, then ran out.

“Marly, wait.” Drew followed. “She thinks we're cousins.”

“You are one piece of work,” Sharon, the mother bear, growled before joining her at-risk cub.

 

“First, let me apologize for all the chaos.” I had somehow managed to get everyone to assemble around the kitchen table. “Believe me. The last thing I wanted was to create more stress for you at this very difficult time.”

“Are you still going to speak at the funeral?” Marly sniffed. “Because I don't think you should.”

“I don't even see why she should
be
at the funeral.” Sharon bore her voo-doo eyes into Drew's forehead. “It's really for family, and friends of the family.”

“Will you two just calm down and let Claire talk?” Drew said. “She was about to say something very interesting to me when you walked in, and I want to hear it.”

“It was probably a proposition,” Sharon mumbled.

“Okay, knock it off, Mrs. Becker,” I said. “I've been through absolute hell these past few days, and I know the situation here doesn't look great, but believe me, I am not trying to steal your daughter's fiancé, because it so happens that I am very much in love with a man back in L.A., a very rich and handsome talent agent who proposed to
me a few months ago, but I wasn't ready to commit, and now that I've had time to think about it, I realize that I do love him very much and I want to be his wife. So I would appreciate the benefit of the doubt here.”

“Oh.” A relieved-looking mother patted my hand. “Then I apologize.”

“Thank you.” I took a deep breath. “Okay, I'll skip the whole episode with my grandmother and the gun, because I know you are all expected for dinner in an hour, and I don't want to keep you.”

“Well, wait. You're invited, too,” Drew said. “Remember? Aunt Penny wants to meet you?”

“If she doesn't want to go, why are you pushing her?” Marly folded her arms in such a way that I couldn't miss her blinding engagement ring.
Is that to wear or skate on?

“Hold on,” I said. “Please stop assuming the worst. I promise things will look a lot different after you hear my predicament. And frankly, I could use some advice.”

Silence. Who among them didn't think that they were experts on a host of delicate issues?

“Okay. The first thing you need to understand is that I never heard the name Abe Fabrikant in my life. Then, after he died, and I called my grandmother to tell her why I would be late, she asked me his name. So I told her, and she could hardly talk. And the same with my parents.

“I kept saying, I'm sorry, did we know this man? But they wouldn't answer me. They just kept insisting that I have nothing to do with the family, which I thought was strange, since all of you had been so wonderful to me.

“Finally, this morning, my grandmother sat me down, and out of the blue she tells me something about my past that at first I didn't believe. I was sure she'd lost her mind. But then I started to put the pieces of the puzzle together and realized she
was
telling me the truth. And that's when I passed out in the shower and had to be rushed to the hospital.”

“Today?” Marly raised a freshly waxed eyebrow. “You were rushed to a hospital today?”

“Yes. That's right. I spent about three hours in the ER at Aventura Hospital, right by my grandmother's apartment. They wanted to admit me for observation, but I felt fine, so I put up a fight, and they let me go. If you don't believe me, I can show you my discharge papers.”

Marly and her mother exchanged glances. Should they call my bluff?

“Oh, come on, you two,” Drew shouted. “Give her a break. She's got nothing up her sleeve.”

“I'd just like to see proof,” Marly whined. “She says she has it, so let's see it.”

“Fine.” I got up to find my pocketbook. “I have all the paperwork. My prescriptions, the name of the specialist I have to call on Thursday…”

“Sit down, Claire.” Drew reached for my hand. “It's okay. We believe you.”

Sharon and Marly exchanged glances.

I felt like crying. Not because they were acting like judge and jury, trying to convict me of having an agenda. What saddened me was that they were so obviously attached at the hip, unlike my mother and myself. Whereas Sharon viewed the intimate details of her daughter's life as under her jurisdiction, my mother had never concerned herself with my love life, and now I finally knew why.

My gloomy expression caught Sharon's attention.

“Are you feeling okay, dear?” Sharon tried to take the high road with her conciliatory tone.

“Not really. No.” I sighed. “I fell back on my head, and I've got this huge bump that's really sore. My throat is killing me, I've got a headache that won't go away, my butt is bruised, I'm really tired…but it doesn't matter. I just need for all of you to believe me. I swear I'm telling the truth.”

“Nobody is saying you're a liar,” Drew tried.

Fool!

“So what exactly did your grandmother tell you?” he asked. “I mean, why did you faint?”

Crap! Why had I opened my big mouth? It was nuts to expose this
open wound to strangers, especially before I'd had time to let the facts sink in. For I knew that the instant the words were dumped like a bag of tarnished silver, they could never be thrown back in to the drawer.

In fact, the very idea that in the span of a few seconds I could utter some choice words and instantly turn lives upside down, but mostly my own, was more than I could handle.

“I can't say it.” I cried into my hands as my body shook. “It's so awful.”

“Claire, dear. Calm down.” Sharon ran to get tissues. “It can't be that bad. Just get it out. It'll make you feel better.”

I shook my head no.

“Is somebody sick? Is it cancer? Did your father lose his job?”

“Nothing like that.” I blew my nose. “It's…much worse.”

“Claire, we can't help you if we don't know what the problem is,” Drew offered.

“You can't help me even if you do,” I sobbed. “It's so awful…. See, I just found out…I'm…my parents…I still can't believe this is happening. I thought I was normal like everyone else, but I'm not…. I was adopted.”

“Are you serious?” Marly looked at her watch. “And you never knew that?”

No, dumb-ass. Would I be this upset if I found out when I was five?
“I had no idea.” I wiped my eyes. “I mean, I always knew I didn't look like my parents, but a lot of kids don't.”

“That's right.” Drew nodded. “Claire showed me a family picture. She looks nothing like them.”

“Truthfully, it's not the worst thing that could happen,” Marly the psychiatrist said. “Look at Drew. He's adopted, and he turned out fine.”

“Yes, because he knew all along!” I so wanted to bitch-slap her. “But I'm going to be thirty years old in a few days, and I had no idea, okay? It's different when it comes from out of left field.”

“You poor thing.” Sharon shook her head. “Does your grandmother know who your real parents are? I mean, not that your parents aren't your real parents, of course. Obviously they raised you.”

“This is the part that is so crazy.” I took a deep breath. “The reason my family is so flipped out is because…see, my grandmother had a son, Gary. My mother's younger brother. And after he got back from Vietnam, he started dating this college girl, she got pregnant with me, he talked her out of having an abortion, but then he died in this awful car crash on the Long Island Expressway when I was only a few weeks old.”

“Are you serious?” Drew whistled. “That's horrible.”

“I know, but you haven't heard the rest of it,” I said. “The girl that Uncle Gary, or actually my biological father, was involved with was a girl from Florida who was going to school in New York. She was studying to be an actress.”

“Oh, that's so funny,” Marly the brain surgeon said. “Drew mentioned that you're an actress.”

Is that all he mentioned?
“The girl was from a very wealthy family. She was afraid to tell her parents that she was pregnant. She said they'd never understand.”

“Did your grandmother happen to mention her name?” Drew leaned in. “If she was from Florida…I don't know, maybe we could go on the Internet and try and help you find her.”

“Oh, believe me. You won't have to look far.”

“You mean you know who she is?” Sharon placed her hand on her chest.

I nodded. “And so do you.”

“Well, then tell us already.” Marly the lawyer threw up her hands. “We're late.”

“Oh God. You're never going to believe this, but her name was Penelope…Fabrikant.”

“What?” Drew shot up. “That's impossible. That's my Aunt Penny's real name.”

“Oh my God,” Marly the genetics expert said. “Oh my God.”

“I can't believe what I'm hearing,” Sharon said. “Are you saying they're the same person?”

I nodded. “And when I realized it myself…put two and two together, I fainted in the shower.”

“So wait.” Marly the reporter was suddenly, miraculously interested in my story. “If it's true what you're saying, that means that the two of you would be related?” She pointed to Drew and me.

“Exactly.” I patted her arm. “If the story is true, my real father is dead, and my real mother is—I still can't believe it—his Aunt Penny.”

“Isn't that something?” Sharon clapped. “Not just related, but first cousins.”

Oh, stop gloating. I know what you're thinking
.

“You poor, sweet thing.” Marly my new best friend came over to hug me. “I feel so sorry for you. You must be in complete shock.”