Dispatches From Paradise. Shelly Gitlow

out with it. I better seize the window of opportunity.

      “What am I going to do?”

      “One thing I know, Mother. You’ll find another man soon. You always do.”

      I can’t believe she just called me a slut. I’m in mourning.

      “Alphonse was different. He understood me. We were compatible. He was the only one who didn’t notice when I missed my shots. It’s hard to find a man. Especially if you’re not young.”

      “I don’t feel sorry for you. With all your enhancements and fake parts, you’ll never age. Don’t worry. You’ll find a replacement soon.”

      The depth of her disdain is appalling. I need to turn this around. Come on, brain.

      “I had an epiphany, sweetheart. I was walking on the beach and I ran into this Rastaman. He helped me see that what’s really important to me is family. I need to be with people who care about me to help me through this difficult time.”

      I can’t decide if she’s buying it. She looks perplexed and doesn’t respond. Sorry, but I need an answer, ASAP.

      “So what do you say?”

      “I’m your daughter. I have to care.”

      Not what I was going for, but I can work with it.

      “I know how much you care, darling. You can’t imagine how comforting that is. So I can stay here until I get myself together?”

      Got her. And she knows it too. I sniffle, take out a tissue and wipe my eyes. She’s madly trying to come up with a reason to say no.

      “I . . . uh . . . isn’t there somewhere else.”

      My only child. I can’t believe she’s not stepping up to help me. What else can I use?

      “You need me now, too. I can help you.”

      She looks at me suspiciously.

      “I know that Richard’s gone.”

      She’s angry.

      “Who told you?”

      “Richard. At least someone had the decency.”

      “I can’t believe you just said that. I called you to tell you, and you said you were busy giving head. That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear, especially under the circumstances.”

      Picky, picky, picky. Hasn’t she ever been interrupted by a phone call during sex? She never cuts me any slack. I shouldn’t have listened to Alphonse. I should have let it ring. Now I have to suck it up and apologize.

      “Sorry, sweetheart. I was totally lost in the moment. Too bad that doesn’t happen to you.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Well, it didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself with Michael. You’ve always been cold and sort of asexual, don’t you think? But at least you’re not wasting any time, moving right on to the next. Maybe you’re more like me than you think.”

      “I just met the guy. He happened to move in next door. I was being a nice neighbor and invited him to dinner. I’m not looking for a bedmate. I’m not like you. And I never will be.”

      I’ve managed to rile her again. Why do I do that? I can’t seem to help myself. I see things more clearly than she does, and I’m too direct for her. But I should learn to keep my big mouth shut. It’s not helping me get what I want.

      “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

      “You might as well pile it on with everything else.”

      “I can imagine. Kicking Richard out after all these years must have been tough. You look like a dish rag.”

      She sucks on her cheeks. Uh oh. I should be nicer.

      “Nothing a new hairdo or a makeover couldn’t fix.”

      “I just got a haircut.’

      “Maybe you should try a new stylist.”

      “Maybe you should butt out.”

      She’s pissed. I lock my lips.

      “I have more important stuff to deal with. Darcy dropped out of school and came home.”

      “How fabulous!”

      “Your granddaughter drops out of college, and you think it’s terrific?”

      “Well, if she didn’t like it there, she should quit and do what makes her happy. There’s no point in being miserable. She has other options.”

      “Spare me the career counseling and please stay out of it.”

      “Okay, but this could be a lot of fun. We’ll be like the Three Musketeers.”

      She’s not buying it. But Darcy and I get along really well. She’s just like me. We’ll have a great time, if her mother lets me move in.

      “Why can’t you stay where you are, wherever that is?”

      “I’ve been living with Alphonse, in his condo. But now his kids want to sell it. You’d think that they would at least let me stay there until I find a place, but they threw me out in the street. Probably already have the “For Sale” sign up. Can you believe it?”

      “It is their place.”

      She thinks they were right. How can she side with them over her own mother? Simmer down.

      “I suppose.”

      “What about Marjorie?”

      “I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

      “Your oldest and best friend?”

      “Marjorie showed her true colors when I hooked up with Alphonse. She kept referring to him as ‘your spic,’ so I dropped her. I won’t put up with those racist attitudes.”

      “Not like you have so many friends. You could try and reconcile with her.”

      “How would you know how many friends I have?”

      It’s true. I don’t have many friends, but she doesn’t have to rub it in. Women don’t like me. They’re jealous. And I don’t see the point of having a male friend, unless he’s a friend with benefits.

      “Anyway, I’m not calling Marjorie. I heard she married an eighty-three-year-old guy with a lot of medical problems. I can’t live in a hospital ward. That’s way too depressing. So you’re my only option.”

      “I have enough on my plate as it is, Mother. Darcy’s not in a good place.”

      “That’s where I come in. She listens to me.”

      I shouldn’t have gone there. That scares her. She thinks I’ll be a bad influence on Darcy.

      “I can help you too, sweetie. Richard’s gone. Fonsie’s gone. We need each other.”

      She looks disgusted. It’s getting late. I should move on to the pleading. She won’t be able to say no to that. I put my hands together and kneel down. I can hardly stand it, but I force myself to do it. How dare she make me grovel?

      “Pretty please. I’m begging you.”

      “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

      “But I promise I won’t get in your way. And it won’t be for long. Pretty please with sugar on it.”

      She’s trying to hang tough, but then she takes a deep breath and looks hard at me. I can see the wheels turning, as she ponders the situation and its possibilities. Finally, she makes her decision.

      “Okay, we’ll see how it goes.”

      She’s tentative, but I get a strange feeling that she’s into it. That somehow she wants to deal