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"Big surprise," I said. I opened the sorbet. There was about half a spoonful left in the container. I put it back.
"Is Mara there?" he asked.
"Nope." I took the chicken nuggets out of the freezer.
"Well, I'm having trouble getting her on her cell: could you just leave her a message that I'm
stuck here
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and I'm hoping to get a flight at least as far as Chicago tonight?"
I tossed the nuggets on a plate and put it in the microwave. "Check, chief."
"How about you, Goose, big plans with your big man?"
"Big plans, big man," I said. Really we were just going to Piazzolla's and a movie. But it was big enough.
"Sounds like fun," said my dad. "Hey, did you get my e-mail about the Andy Goldsworthy?"
Andy Goldsworthy is an artist my dad and I both love, and he had a sculpture show opening on
the roof of the Met this weekend.
"Um ..." Was I really up for a repeat performance of Dad and Mara Ignore Lucy at the Museum?
Luckily the kitchen phone started ringing before I could answer him. I looked to see who was
calling.
"It's Mara," I said.
"Oh, great," he said. "Tell her my plan, okay? And tell her I'll keep trying her on her cell."
"Okay," I said. "Love you."
"Love you, too, honey. And tell Mara I love her."
That was so not part of the message I'd be delivering. I tossed the nugget box back in the freezer
and grabbed the phone.
"Hi, Lucy, it's Mara. Is your father home yet?" I could tell she was calling from her car. "My battery's all messed up on my cell. I think he's been trying to reach me."
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The microwave beeped. "He's in California."
"What?" From her high-pitched wail, you'd have thought I'd said, He's with his divorce lawyer. If only.
"He's still in California." I took the plate of nuggets out. "They're fogged in. He said he tried to call you."
"Oh, Jesus. We're supposed to be meeting people in the city tonight. I'm already in Manhattan."
I wasn't exactly sure what Mara expected me to do. Maybe she thought I, like Superman, could
stop the world from spi
early plane out of San Francisco. Unfortunately, Cinderella's powers are limited to serving meals
and snagging princes.
Through the phone, I could hear a horn honk. "Okay, okay," she muttered. I heard some more
honking. Even when she's not distracted and talking on her cell phone, Mara's not exactly the
most focused driver.
"Listen," she said. "I'm going to try the girls. If you see them, will you let them know the situation? Tell them your dad can't drive them to their dad's and they should just call a cab or call
their dad to pick them up?" She continued to think out loud for another few minutes, going
through the logistics of her night. I just sat there eating my chicken nuggets, not saying anything,
like she was a character on a TV show I was too lazy to get up and turn off.
"Well, okay, you have fun tonight," she said, finally
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remembering she was actually talking to someone. "Thanks," I said.
"What's that?" she shouted over the sudden static. "I'm losing you, Lucy."
"I said thanks,'''' I repeated, louder this time.
"I can't hear you, Lucy," she said. Then, "Lucy? Lucy?" Then silence.
No sooner had I hung up the phone than the front door flew open and slammed shut. I heard a
cell phone ringing, but it wasn't mine. I returned to eating my nuggets.
"Hello? Hello?" Princess One appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, cell phone pressed to her
ear. She dropped her backpack onto a chair. "Mom, is that you?" She listened for a second before shaking her head and hanging up.
"I think that was Mom," she said over her shoulder. "But I have, like, no idea what she said."
Princess Two materialized by her sister's side.
"I think she was telling you my dad's flight's trapped in San Francisco, she's in the city, she's
going out for di
"WHAT?" Princess One screamed. She stared at me openmouthed, then grabbed her sister by the arm.
"What?" I repeated. Was she really that freaked out about the change of plans?
"What?" Princess Two asked.
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Princess One was still clutching her sister. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Princess One turned to her sister and spoke very slowly. "Mom said Doug can't drive us to dad's
and we have to take a cab."
"So?" asked Princess Two.
"So we can go to the--" Princess One made fists of frustration as her sister continued to stare at her blankly. Then she leaned over and whispered something in her ear.
"OHMYGOD!" said Princess Two, just as her phone started ringing. She put it up to her ear.
"Hello? ... Oh, hi, Mom.... Yeah, we got your message.... Sure ... Yeah, we'll just take a cab." She jumped up and down, screaming silently. "No, you don't have to call him. Really, Mom, don't
worry about it." She was trying hard not to laugh at something her mother said. "Okay.... Okay....
I love you, too." She hung up and turned to her sister. "Oh. My. God. Let's go."
Even without a degree in child development, you could tell the Princesses were up to no good. I
wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I mean, it wasn't like I was some kind of authority figure.
Still, if they were about to do something really stupid, maybe they could use some adult
intervention. Or at least some pre-adult intervention.
"What's up?" I asked. I tried to keep my voice light, as if I just wanted to chat. "Big date tonight?"
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"Wouldn't you like to know, Lucy?" asked Princess One, turning on her heel and flouncing out of
the kitchen. Her sister followed with an equally indignant flounce. "Get a life, Lucy," Princess One called over her shoulder.
Ever since attending Jason Goldberg's QM Two extravaganza, the Princesses had been
complaining there were no good bat-mitzvah party themes left, but their parting shot gave me an
idea for one.
Something wicked this way comes ...
I ' d have to remember to suggest it.
When Co
was in the shop again, and his parents blamed him for not taking good enough care of it.
"Like I want to be driving this piece of crap," he said, hitting the dashboard of the Lexus.
I didn't say much for the whole ride to Piazzolla's besides, "Mmmmhmmm" and "Yeah" and
"Really?" As we pulled into the parking lot across from Piazzolla's, Co
Just as I opened my mouth to say something, he gave a shout. "Oh, yeah! A spot!" And a second
later he was explaining why the Lexus was easier to park than his SUV. By the time we were out
of the car and crossing the street, we'd gotten back on the subject of his parents.
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"Oh my god," said Madison, waving us over to the table where she, Matt, Jessica, and Dave were
already sitting. "You have to hear about the bags my mom saw at a store in SoHo. They're