You Have To Kiss a Lot of Frogs. Laurie Graff

lighter, but you were sitting close to the stage with Jack and we were in the back. It’s hard to see at night. Up close, though, I remember you. He was great, wasn’t he? All that new material about all the bad relationship stuff that happens on the holidays, and accepting Santa into your heart.”

      I twisted the swizzle stick from my drink.

      “Well, let me put your order in. I’m sure you want to get over to the club early for the special Valentine’s Day show.”

      I stared at my place setting and took a sip of my Virgin Mary.

      “That was unnecessary,” said Millie.

      “He obviously found a new one,” said Henry.

      “Did you change the message on your machine yet?” my mother asked.

      “I’ll do it soon. It’s funny,” I said.

      “It’s not funny, Karrie. It’s pathetic. Change it tonight.”

      The message played in my ear.

      Hi, this is Karrie. Jack and I just broke up so I can’t come to the phone right now. Actually, I can’t even get out of bed. But if you leave your name and number, someday I’ll get back to you.

      Beeeeep.

      “And after you change your message, set your alarm so you wake up at a decent hour tomorrow,” Millie continued.

      I had made the mistake of confessing to my mom that unless I had an audition I’d been sleeping half the day away, waking at 12:59 p.m. in order to make it into the living room by one, just in time to watch my favorite soap, All My Problems.

      “Maybe she was just a date, “ I said. “Or it could have been a friend. Who says he has a new girlfriend? Anyway, what’s the difference?”

      Silence.

      “I spoke with Aunt Cookie,” said Millie. “She said she spoke to her friend, Phyllis, and her son Seth, the chiropractor, is still talking about you from last Passover. I know he’s not exactly your type…”

      “No.”

      “Just for an evening out,” Henry chimed in. “No one’s saying marriage, but just to get out. There’s no reason for a young girl like yourself to stay home alone staring at the four walls.”

      “I’m not staring at anything. Besides, he’s a geek. He’s a nerd. He even liked the Manischewitz wine. No.”

      The waiter came by and served the salads. Henry reached for the pepper.

      “No salt,” said Millie.

      “No salt,” said Henry. “Pepper. I’m just using pepper.”

      “He’s not allowed to have salt,” she told me.

      “He’s not having salt,” I said.

      “I’m having pepper, Millie.”

      “See, he’s having pepper, Ma.”

      “That’s okay. Pepper he’s allowed to have.”

      “I have an audition tomorrow,” I said as the food arrived. The fish stared up at me, alongside the baby red potatoes, the stewed zucchini and the waiter. “For a commercial.”

      “What’s it for?” asked the waiter. My new best friend.

      “Some fast-food chicken chain. I’m a perky waitress.” I smiled at him to prove my point.

      “Well, bon appetit and bon chance,” said the waiter. He winked at me before he walked away.

      “This is good,” I said.

      “Very good,” said Henry.

      “I like mine too,” said Millie.

      “Anyway, I have to make it an early night,” I said before I barely started my meal, let alone finished it. “You know, with the audition in the morning.”

      “It’s all right,” said Millie. “I’m tired too. I don’t mind an early night myself.”

      I watched my mother delicately mash her potatoes. Her pink nail polish shone under the candlelight, and her diamond ring glimmered. She was trying so hard to be nice to me. So was Henry. I was so unhappy about Jack. I just felt so bad.

      “No, Ma. No rush. Really.”

      “It’s okay,” Millie said through knowing eyes. “We don’t have to get indigestion, but I am tired.”

      “I’m tired too,” I said.

      I took my fork and mashed the baby red potatoes, pasting them together with some of the snapper. I was tired, I thought. I really, truly was.

      11

      That's All, Folks

      An Hour Later

      Ten Blocks North, NYC 1994

      I walked my parents to the garage to get the car and watched them take off down Second Avenue, the fumes from the engine trailing behind. I walked south to get the crosstown bus back to my apartment, but felt a tug that pulled me in the opposite direction.

      My oversized orange fake fur wrapped around me like a warm blanket and I pulled my black earmuffs down around my neck so I could hear the street sounds. I walked past liquor stores selling wines to woo with. Past a Hallmark gift shop where the window displayed the little redheaded girl sending Charlie Brown a valentine. The next thing I knew I was standing in front of The Comic Corner. I looked up at The Comic Corner logo. To go or to stay?

      I was about to go. I was about to stay. For a moment I felt like I lost my balance. I was in the circus, walking a tightrope. I was struggling to keep on a straight course, but I could not. I looked around for help. I saw a man below me. I waved. I kept waving and waving, but he never looked up. It was clear that I was going to fall. But I didn’t. I was at the end of the rope. It was over and it became instantly clear I had to get out of there. I had to escape before I found out what more there was to lose.

      I turned away and the door slammed against my back.

      “Ouch!”

      I spun around and came face-to-face with Jack.

      I stood, frozen, taking him in. Jack’s blond hair was longer in the back, and he had started growing a beard. The beard was darker than the hair on his head. It looked like he had dyed either one or the other.

      “Oh my God. Hi. Hello. Jack. I never expected to run into you.”

      Jack stood and looked at me. Actually, he stared.

      “It was an accident,” I said. “Kind of.”

      He smiled as if he understood that it was. A collision of sorts. Of which sort, he was uncertain.

      Being in Jack’s presence for the first time in almost six weeks was like finding that glove you gave up on. You had lost one so you couldn’t wear the other. You could try, but one hand was always left out in the cold. Even though there were new gloves to be bought in stores all over the city, some of them even on sale, none would ever be that pair. None of them would be broken in. Comfortable. But you wouldn’t throw out the mate. You just kept it with your hats and scarves as a reminder. A hope. And then one day, when you were moving the couch to get the pen that had dropped behind it, there it was. Your glove. Your favorite one. It had been waiting for you to reclaim it, you just didn’t know where to look. And later that day, when you went to the deli, you slipped the pair on in the elevator, and a warmth and familiarity consoled your body. You were only going out for a container of milk, but however far you went, you felt fine.

      I smiled in spite of myself. Then I laughed.

      “What’s so funny?” asked Jack.

      “You!”

      “Me? I thought we broke up because you didn’t laugh anymore.”