Dispatches From Paradise. Shelly Gitlow

a little and puts the phone away. When Harry finishes crooning, “Walk like an Egyptian” by the Bangles starts playing. Michael seizes the opportunity to actually walk like an Egyptian and plant one on me. I guess he’s not that worried about germs. It’s an unsettling experience. My first kiss in a long time doesn’t even meet my very low expectations. He dives in with an open mouth, and he doesn’t even put his tongue in my mouth. His open mouth is just there, and I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to put my tongue in his mouth? I try, but his tongue doesn’t respond, so I pull back and take a sip of wine. It’s all very creepy and embarrassing.

      He grabs the bottle of wine, pours himself a big glass and starts chugging. Traumatic for him too, I guess. Where do we go from here?

      Michael’s a lot less uptight when he’s been drinking. He’s so loose that he grabs my arm and pulls me up to dance to Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls.” He shakes his booty and flails his arms, without a trace of rhythm. I’m a better dancer than he is, which is pretty unbelievable. He rubs up against me and grabs my behind. I dance away.

      I’ve been fending him off for the last hour. That kiss did me in. I don’t think I can get past it. I boogie back to a lounge chair and get comfy. He follows me and zooms in for another make-out attempt. Why doesn’t he get that it’s not going to happen?

      I hear footsteps. The kids are back already?

      “Hello. Anyone home?”

      Oh no. It can’t be. But here she comes, in all her glory. And she really is glorious (looking). Can she please disappear? I can’t handle this now.

      “What are you doing here?”

      “That’s some way to greet me. You look awful.”

      “Gee, thanks.”

      Michael looks very confused.

      “Who’s that?”

      “I’m sorry. Michael, meet my mother, Claudette. Claudette, this is Michael, my new neighbor.”

      Claudette pours on the charm, flashes him her big, toothy model’s smile.

      “Has my daughter been giving you a hard time, sweetheart?”

      She must have been watching. Michael’s uncomfortable, so I give him an out.

      “You should probably leave, Michael. Things are going to get ugly.”

      Michael doesn’t hear me. He’s transfixed on Claudette, under her spell, like most men. It’s one of the traits that skipped a generation and landed in Darcy’s gene pool. I don’t want Darcy to turn out like her, but I don’t know how to stop it. Should I even try?

      “Um, well, thanks for dinner.”

      “Glad you came.”

      Claudette seizes the opportunity.

      “But you didn’t, did you?”

      I want to evaporate, and Michael doesn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t hear or didn’t get it. Claudette throws her arms around his neck and kisses him on both cheeks. How Continental!

      “Hope to see you again, sweetie.”

      Poor Michael. He doesn’t know what to make of this strange mother-daughter combo. Why is the one who seemed to want him pushing him away? And why is her so-called mother all over him?

      I clear my throat to bring him back to reality. He stammers something unintelligible and scampers off like a scared rabbit. I’m furious at her (not at him, maybe him a little).

      “First of all, you can’t just show up at my house. And second, what do you think you’re doing with . . .”

      She throws up her hand.

      “You have to be nice to me.”

      “I am nice to you. But you take advan . . .”

      “Alphonse died.”

      “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. Sit down. Have some wine.”

      I pour her a glass. She takes a big gulp and a deep breath. Tears start streaming down her cheeks. She looks vulnerable. I want to put my arms around her. But I restrain myself, knowing she could be manipulating me into something that’s not necessarily in my best interest.

      “What happened?”

      “Massive heart attack.”

      “Poor Alphonse. He seemed like a nice guy.”

      “He was. Just my luck. I finally find a man who understands me and he croaks. What am I going to do?”

      “You’ll find another man, mother. You always do.”

      “It’s not that easy. I’m getting older.”

      “You’re not that old, and with all that stuff you do, you’ll never age.”

      “I don’t need sarcasm now, Elizabeth. I need to be around people who care about me.”

      “I’m your daughter. I care.”

      Uh oh. There’s the inroad. I am such a moron! Don’t I ever learn?

      “That’s so sweet, darling. So I can stay with you for a while?”

      I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. There is NO WAY she can stay here. I’m already sacrificing by letting Darcy come back. Each one of them is difficult for me, but both at the same time? The dynamic duo will definitely push me over the edge. I have to be strong, resist. Oh hell, she’s crying again. I should say something.

      “Uh . . . I . . . uh . . .”

      “We need each other now. Richard’s gone. Fonsie’s gone. We can help each other.”

      I’m livid. How did she find out about Richard? And I don’t want her help. I want to be alone.

      “Who told you?”

      “Richard. At least he had the decency to call.”

      “Excuse me, but I tried to tell you. You said you were busy ‘giving head.’”

      “Oh. Sorry.”

      I guess Alphonse was the recipient. Maybe he died while they were having sex? I definitely don’t want to go there. It’s difficult to believe that those are real tears, but I think she did like him more than most of her bedmates.

      “I noticed you’re not wasting any time, sweetheart.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Michael.”

      Not this too. I shouldn’t have let my guard down. I’m out of practice.

      “He’s my next-door neighbor. Nothing’s going on.”

      “But you’d like it to be, wouldn’t you?”

      “How should I know? I just met the guy.”

      I search my brain for a new subject, something that will get her off the Michael track.

      “You know yesterday was my birthday.”

      “That’s right. I was a bit busy, trying to revive Alphonse.”

      Like she would have remembered otherwise.

      “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

      She tries to hug me, but I don’t hug her back.

      “You’re such a cold fish, Elizabeth.”

      I can’t let you get close. It will be too painful. Been there, done that.

      “Here’s another news flash for you. Darcy dropped out of school and came home.”

      She lights up.

      “That’s