Disclaimers: See Chapter 1. Any other comments can be sent to me at bironel@gmail.com
Synopsis: A novella about the an insanely wealthy white woman's search for her soul mate and the debt ridden black woman writer, with a vivid imagination, who tries to keep out of her way.
Amanda's Epiphany
Keeping One's Seat in the Upright Position
On a Friday afternoon, I arrived at the Aqua Grill on time and realize instantly that Pam is late. I hate waiting for people. If my distracted ass can get to places on time so should other people. I still think if I'm late they should politely wait for me. I didn't say I was a saint.
Pam. She has been badgering me for lunch for weeks. I've been too busy at work. I've been too busy with Gerald's recuperation and getting to re-know him, as my father. He has to have a great deal of physical therapy for his shoulder after he was knifed in the back by an unknown assailant in the parking garage of the hotel that was out base of “Get Jessica Back Operation” in downtown Vancouver .
I've been too busy with Jessica and Nailah settling into the loft to socialize with old friends. At least those are the excuses I told Pam.
I take off my dark sunglasses as the hostess leads me to my favorite table. I look at my cell phone and receive an update about Nailah and Jessica's whereabouts. They are taking a walk in the park.
Nailah has been a great help with Jessica but she doesn't stay at the loft with us during the night. She only works there on her next novel and takes cares of Jessica during the day, until I return from working all day at night.
At night Nailah likes to retreat into her Aunt's home. I worry about her living in that neighborhood but not as much as I'm concerned about her riding that motorize maiming device she named Tyrone. If I could render that damned device inoperable I would!
I've tried to get her to stay at the loft but she stubbornly insists it would look like we're really married since I've haven't gotten around to the annulment. Whatever.
So I've agreed to have lunch with Pam at the Aqua Grill. I'm sit drinking a rather dry, crisp New Zealand white wine and I just realized it's been two years since I met Gerald here and my adventure with Nailah began. I raise my glass to the heavens, cheering all the good that I've received even though I had at times been admittedly, a bastard. I chuckle realizing that since Jacob wasn't my dad I actually was one for a while.
I smile at business colleagues and rivals, acquaintances and past sexual conquests at various tables who are also dining here today.
I prepare myself with a deep breath because I know when Pam waltzes through the front door she really wants to pump me for information about Nailah and Jessica to sell to some tabloid news or online blog.
The phone rings again. It's her so I answer.
Pam: Darling! I'm on route as we speak. I was a bit delayed but I'll be there in five minutes. Order a martini for me won't you Darling?
Amanda: One martini, shaken not stirred.
Pam: Smooches.
Then I hear a dial tone. I beckon to my waitress, an attractive Latina named Magali, with shoulder length straight black hair and large black doe eyes, and ordered Pam's martini to arrive at the table in six minutes.
To her credit Pam enters the restaurant as promised and the martini is placed in front of her a minute later. I intend to leave Magali a generous tip.
Pam (air kisses both my cheeks): My shoes are fabulous aren't they Darling? But they are killing me! I can't wait to take these torture devices off. But you could care less about that. You seem so subdued, Darling. Working too hard? I suppose that motherhood does that to you. So tell me, how are the love birds? You've not been on the scene in ages! I can guess you have been wrapped up with your tall, dark one. Oh and how is Gerald doing? Give him my regards. I know you must be going mad with him out of commission.
Amanda: Thanks for the flowers by the way. Now, are they paying you by the words? Or have you taken some of your stimulants?
Pam: Whatever are you talking about, Darling?
Amanda: The tabloid you're freelancing for-
Pam (impatiently): For the last time I DID NOT leak any information about you and yours, Darling. Any information that may have inadvertently slipped out during the heat of passion, I really can't be held responsible for.
Amanda: Back in the day, when YOU were a pedophile and I was your prey, I don't remember you being so vocal, Darling!
Pam: Why are you bringing up ancient history? You make me feel absolutely old when you do that!
Magali returns for our orders. As usual I have the red snapper but with veggies. I can't believe I'm still eating these things but I got Nailah to use the private car to limit riding that thing of hers and she tricked me into digesting more of this green stuff. All this crunching sometimes gives me a headache but I can't argue with the positive results of my last post natal check up.
I plan to order the bananas foster, when Pam puts in her older for a salad, an expensive salad she will never eat. The salad is a prop so no one notices the numbers of martini's she knocks back. She ordered a rather large salad so I expect I'll have to pour her into a cab when our lunch is over.
Pam: Our waitress is an absolutely lovely.
Amanda: She's sweet.
Pam: Sweet? Darling, motherhood has dulled your wit and your appetite.
Amanda (confused): I ordered enough to feed a family of four!
Pam: The waitress? Not interested?
As Magali, set our dishes before us, I observed her closely. She was a very attractive young woman. I supposed I would have tried to bed her in the past but for some reason, I really wasn't interested. And that surprised me.
The last time I recalled I had sex was that reporter almost a year ago. As I take the last sip of my first and only glass of white wine, I am struck with the sobering thought of how desperately I need to get laid but am too tired to do anything about it.
So I satiate the only appetite I seem to have left and dig into my meal heartily. As I glance up at Pam, more martini and less salad seems to be making that long dark journey to her stomach.
Pam: So married life has truly taken you out of circulation.
Amanda: Something like that.
I continue to chow down. I must have been famished.
Pam: Trouble in paradise?
Amanda: Regardless of what I say, you'll just make something up won't you?
I take a break and sip some water.
Pam: Darling, I'm worried about you. You don't come to any of my soirees. There have been four, by the way, since you and your brood have come back from the uncivilized west. I had to endure Ivette's incessant crying over the lost of you to… how did she put it a “violent ex-con”.
Amanda: Nailah's never been in jail isn't interested in “the scene” and doesn't have a violent bone in her body. Vindictive, childish, annoyingly naive, yes. Violent, no.
I yawn.
Amanda: Pardon me, it's not the company. Pam, I've been so busy I have to schedule when I am tired.
Jo: Then let mama make it all better then.
Amanda and Pam turned to see Jo, wearing clothes like the wait staff of the Aqua Grill, a crisp, stark white shirt and black trousers, pointing a black gun directly at Amanda. Pam spills her martini and Amanda stares at the barrel pointing at her.
Pam: Joanne! What are you doing? If you were pissed I slept with your daughter you really should have confronted me a long time ago. There are statutes of limitation!
Jo: This isn't about you, It's about this demon I have as a daughter and her annoying nine lives of luck. Well baby's luck is about to run out!
Pam: Amanda? What the hell is going on here?
Jo pulls the trigger, shooting at the table. Both Pam and Amanda jump in their seats as debris flies from the bullet impact. Some patrons dart under tables but most run out of the restaurant to get the hell of out of any lines of potential fire. She points the gun at Pam who begins to hyperventilate.
Jo: Pam, if you value your pathetic life, shut the hell up!
Jo moves closes to Amanda placed the barrel of the gun against her head.
Jo: My daughter. Do you know how much trouble I've gone through for this creature here. From her birth, which was an event never to be repeated, until she began to walk and talk, she was a parasitic albatross around my neck. Drowning me in the pool of mediocrity. So I can't be blamed when I tried to drown her first! That wasn't infanticide that was an attempt to survive! But her faggot father saved her. She got THAT gene from him you know. We didn't have that sort of thing in MY family.
Amanda: If you're going to kill me, please don't bore me before you do.
Jo backslaps Amanda with on hand.
Jo: So brave she is, my daughter. So brave. Not so brave when you when that Arab tried to strangle you in Singapore , we're you? That kid whose fiancee you stole, didn't have the guts for revenge, even when I sent him those pictures of your depravity! Yet again daddy dearest saves you from the GIFT I left in your hotel room. Not so brave we're you when you almost drowned in that runaway car, Hmmm?
Amanda: All those times… that was YOU?
Jo: And that nasty little Jap girl you were so gone on. What the hell did you see in her? Nailah was a vast improvement by the way. I actually enjoyed her.
Amanda: Hell just froze over!
Jo (ignores her): Just a cup of green tea with some crushed Coyotillo berries was enough to pin her murder on you. But all those damn cats! They gathered around her paralyzed body, licking her face, messing up my beautiful evidence pointing to you and filling her lungs with their dander. Death by allergy. I hate cats!
Jo knelt down in front of Amanda resting the gun on her forehead. Tears form in Amanda's eyes.
Jo: Do I see tears? Tears? I guess… you have a lot to lose now. A daughter, a straight wife, my billions, or let's not forget daddy dearest. Well I'm not crying because I don't have anything left to lose. I went to daddy dearest after, superhero Nailah saved the day, to negotiate the return of my rightful fortune in exchange for info he never wants to be revealed. That homosexual laughed in my face. He boasted how he and his best buddy wrote a new will. A secret will. That bastard legally adopted you as his only heir! Leaving me out in the cold. I can't abide by that! I can't continue living this way, like common people do when I come from greatness!
Amanda's mind was blown, which rendered her flippant tongue temporarily inoperative. Her heart was broken. The one love you'd wish most for most in the world is the unconditional love of your mother.
Jo: Think of this as me now at my most maternal. I brought you into the world and now I will escort you out of it.
The part of her ego that enjoyed the status of her bank account was very relieved but it was her stomach that responded.
Amanda didn't like mushrooms because her stomach didn't digest them too well and she didn't tell the waitress to hold the mushrooms which were all mixed in the dish she was wolfing down earlier. Her stomach was also having a difficult time digesting her mother. But what else was new on that front?
So Amanda, threw up-- on her mother, in her mother face, all over her stack white blouse, on her hair, and all over the gun.
Through divine providence the gun didn't go off when it hit the parquet wood floor. Once the vomit flew, Jo dropped the gun and stood arms stretched out with a look of disgust on her face. This position allowed the police officers who had been alerted to the criminal activity with a weapon at the Aqua Grill to respond quickly and apprehend Jo for attempted murder, while avoiding the partially digested food over over her.
One of the arresting officers, Officer Alicia Morgan was pumped that her first collar of the day was so dramatical resolved without firing her service revolver. She was also glad the assailant wasn't being taken to the station in HER patrol car. It's very difficult to get THAT stench out after that.
Officer Morgan called for the EMS crew on the scene to come inside the restaurant and check out the victim just in case she hurled again.
When handcuffed Jo was turned to face Amanda with a face of defeat.
Jo: You ate mushrooms… didn't you?
Amanda (cleaning herself up): Umm I think so.
Jo: I first began to dislike you when you were six months old and you threw up your formula all over my one of a kind Dior evening gown. My hate is now complete.
Amanda watches as Jo is led away by police and Officer Morgan is taking Pam's statement of the events. She stares at Officer Morgan's who has shoulder length white hair. Officer Morgan looks curiously like--
No it can't be?
Officer Morgan stoops down to Amanda's level, who stares at her in shock.
Officer Morgan: The assailant is your mother? Your biological mother?
Amanda nods her head affirmatively.
Officer Morgan: You friend said she confessed to a murder?
Amanda: Do you have a therapy office on Church Street ?
Officer Morgan: No but my sister does. She's a clinical psychotherapist. You know head shrinker. Which is probably a much better than that hustle she had as with that travelling band of grifters in the circus.
Amanda: Circus?? What did she do in the circus?
Officer Morgan: Miss we need to focus on what has just happened to you. I realize that you are in shock, but--
Amanda (repeats): What did she do in the circus?
Officer Morgan: She read cards. You know she was a fortune teller.
At that point, Amanda fainted, but not without the thought, This is the last time I'm eating at this restaurant .
-----
On a Friday evening, the elevator door opens in the lobby of the building of luxury condominium lofts. Behind dark sunglasses Amanda, steps aside to let a group of young people out of the elevator.
Amanda steps inside, turns to face the doors close, but stops when another couple hold the door open and slip inside the elevator. The tall man pushes the 10 th floor button. The couple hug each other, laughing at a shared joke. Her back against the wall, Amanda pushes the button for the 18 th floor.
Tears run down red cheeks from behind the sunglasses. In the recycled air is an uncomfortable pause. The couple unit shift away from Amanda - their eyes actively avoid settling on her - relieved when they reach their escape, the tenth floor.
At 4:16 P.M. on a Thursday afternoon, the elevator door open on the top floor of the building: Out steps Amanda, wearing her dark green Armani suit and a frown. Walking from the elevator to the door of the loft, she reflects her lunch date with Pam. It really sucks when your own mother wants to kill you.
Amanda stands in front of the door to her loft apartment - reluctant to enter it.
More importantly, I've been worried all day... I've had surveillance reports all day on their movements. They've been at the loft almost all day. Nailah took the baby out for an hour and returned but she's disappeared before - with Jessie. I'm her mother - even if I didn't have the healthiest of childhoods.
Then the insecurities begin: I don't want Jessica to grow up hating me - Like my mother... and Nailah. Nailah doesn't care what or who I do... as long as I leave her alone. Fine, I'll do better next time. She probably wasn't the completely right fit. But I got closer with her than I had the last three times. I'll find my artist one day - I'll find her.
Amanda takes her keys from her leather bag.
What was I thinking? We have nothing in common except… our daughter. And the fact that we both love books. And Asian food. And drinking tea. And comedies. And similar religious beliefs, so there won't be too much of a conflict raising Jess spiritually... We have absolutely nothing in common!
She opens the front door of the loft and quietly shuts it, the door locking itself automatically behind her.
Nailah's too judgmental. She's too conservative. She's too repressed. I'd probably get bored with her in one week. She's biased against rich people. She uses her racism to call me a racist. She's too freakishly tall. She can kiss my pasty white ass! As well as other parts of my anatomy - if she wanted.
Amanda places her leather bag in a Queen Anne chair by the walk-in hall closet.
If she's takes Jessica away from me again - off to prison her ass goes! At least, I'll know where she is all the time.
There is no sign of life in the loft. Amanda sits down in the chair next to her leather bag and holds her head with both hands.
I gotta admit, since our “great compromise” she's been a great help with Jessie. I'd be brain dead if she wasn't around to pick up the slack but the truth is she's only sticking around because of Jessie .
Amanda stands.
I kinda wish she was sticking around for… my money. At least I'd be part of that package too. What am I gonna do if she falls for some one else. She'll fall hard too for some blue collar loser with a beer belly. Those repressed ones like Nailah tend to be the most romantic.
Amanda walks further into the loft and she finally hears Cannonball Adderley playing softly in the background.
She smiles.
Standing in the doorway of the living room, she sees the bassinet where baby Jessica sleeps and Nailah has stretched out on the couch reading a book - the two most important people in her world.
They almost would have never known how much...
I begin to cry as I realize that the distance between Nailah and I is greater than the span of my entire loft and for the first time my loft is the loneliest place in the world.
Nailah doesn't notice me and she quickly becomes a long, brown, book reading blur in the hail of tears.