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“We’re really up a tree here,” Frida whined. “Do you think we could just fill out the robbery report and then maybe a police car could take us back to my building? I’ll have my doorman call a locksmith.”
Bea looked at Barbara. Barbara had been pathetic in high school, and she was even more pathetic today.
“You say that the man who stole your jewelry ran south?” she asked.
“Yes,” Barbara answered.
“Okay,” Bea said, “let’s fill out the papers and then we’ll have a squad car drive you up.”
“Thank you,” Frida said and sighed. “And do you think I could get some coffee?”
“Oh, darn, the coffee urn is on the fritz,” Bea answered. “It happened right after you left.”
Frida took a seat in Bea’s desk chair. She could have fallen asleep right there.
“Thank you for being so kind,” Barbara told Bea.
“I think you have a pretty good idea that I wouldn’t be so kind if it wasn’t my job.”
Barbara looked at her, unable to say anything. “I do,” she finally uttered, softly.
“Like I said before, I am sorry to hear about your mother. If she’s still missing tomorrow, come back and we’ll begin a search.”
“Yes. Thanks, Bea,” Barbara said.
By the time Barbara finished the robbery paperwork, Frida was snoring. Bea called over a couple of police officers and instructed them to take Barbara and Frida wherever they needed to go.
“Aunt Frida,” Barbara said as she shook her awake.
“I can’t move another muscle,” Frida responded in full voice, her eyes still closed.
“We’re going home now,” Barbara told her, and Frida grudgingly opened her eyes. The police officers lifted Frida under her arms and she groaned.
“You two really must have put yourselves out today,” Bea said to Barbara.
“She walked a total of nine blocks,” Barbara answered.
“Hopefully your mom will have come back and you won’t have to come in tomorrow. That’s usually the way these things go,” Bea told her.
“Let’s just hope,” Barbara answered. “And Bea?” she added.
“Yes?”
Barbara didn’t know how to say it. How does a person even begin to apologize for something they did more than thirty years ago?
“I hope life has been good to you,” Barbara told her. “I really do.”
“It has, thank you.” Bea smiled, a hint of surprise in her eyes.
The police officers continued to practically carry Frida as they left the station and headed to a squad car. It had started to rain. Barbara put her hand over her head, but Frida couldn’t have cared less at that point and let the rain fall on her face.
“Where to, ladies?” one policeman asked as they climbed into the car.
“Home,” Frida muttered.
“Just a couple of blocks from here, on Rittenhouse Square,” Barbara told them. Then, “No, wait!” Barbara shouted, startling Frida. “Take us to Twelfth and Walnut!”
“For what?” Frida opened her eyes.
“Johnny! Johnny will know where Lucy is. It’s our last chance.”
“Oh, no, I’m done. Drop me off at Rittenhouse Square,” Frida instructed them.
“Don’t tell me you’re giving up on Mom!” Barbara said to her.
“This is going to be the death of me!” Frida answered. “I can’t go another minute.”
“After all this?” Barbara countered. “Have you forgotten why we’re out here? You’re going!”
Frida had no energy left to fight. “Okay,” she said. “For Ellie. I’ll go to Johnny’s restaurant, and then I’m going home.”
“Twelfth and Walnut,” Barbara instructed again, as if she were in a taxi rather than a police car.
It was pouring by the time they got to the restaurant. In the time it took Frida and Barbara to get from the squad car to the front door, they were drenched.
The restaurant was pretty crowded when the two sopping women entered. Frida immediately eyed the pasta on a nearby table.
“I’d give them five dollars for one spoonful,” Frida said to no one in particular.
Just then, Johnny noticed the duo.
“Mrs. Sustamorn,” Johnny said, visibly surprised by her bedraggled appearance. “I’m just about to leave to meet Lucy and her cousin.”
Frida snapped awake. Barbara’s eyes widened.
“We’re coming with you!” Barbara told him.
“Um, are you sure you don’t just want to call her?” he asked.
“No,” Barbara answered, seething. “We need to find Lucy’s grandmother. We’ve been unable to speak to Lucy all day.”
“And that cousin is no cousin,” Frida interjected.
“Well, okay,” Johnny answered, unable to make sense of a word they were saying. If it was going to be easier to clear this up by bringing them along and then going on with their night, so be it. “I’m just meeting her a couple of blocks from here for a drink, and then we’re going to a restaurant.”
“More walking,” Frida said and sighed.
the jig is up
The bar was dark and packed and the music, which Frida figured must have been punk rock (it was Maroon 5), was blaring. A Phillies baseball game was playing on the television in the back of the bar. Frida, who always prided herself on having an excellent sense of smell, immediately recognized the aroma of beer flowing from the tap. It made her think of mussels steaming in a bowl of spicy garlic and tomato gravy. The only time Frida ever had a glass of beer was when she ate mussels. She wondered if this place served mussels. As she followed Barbara through the bar, she envisioned a long, crusty piece of Italian bread that she could dip into the spicy garlic and tomato gravy.
“Here’s a table for us,” Johnny shouted to Barbara and Frida as they both took a seat. “Can I get you ladies something?”
“Do they serve mussels?” Frida asked him.
“Of all things, she wants mussels,” Barbara said, giving her a strange look. “Thank you, Johnny, but we’re not staying long. We’ve got dinner waiting for us at home.” Barbara told him.
“Sure, okay. I’ll just get something for myself, then.” He smiled and walked over to the bar.
Barbara turned in Frida’s direction. “If that boy gets us anything, he’ll think he’s part of the family. I’ll be paying for that bottle of beer for the rest of my life.”
“What?” Frida shouted over the music. “I think I saw someone eating a sandwich when we first walked in.”
“I-told-him-we’ll-eat-at-home.” Barbara enunciated, looking at her watch.
Both Barbara and Frida sat with their arms crossed, hoping that Johnny would come back soon.
“Excuse me, is someone using this chair?” asked a woman in a white tank top as she started to pull it away.
“Yes!” Barbara pulled the chair back angrily. “All of these chairs are taken.”
“You don’t have to scream at me, I was just asking,” the young woman answered.
“What?” Frida shouted to the woman, having missed Barbara’s comment amid the din of the music.
The young woman looked Frida up and down and laughed at her as she walked away.
Frida had once seen an episode of Dr. Phil in which he said that if you’re in a situation you don’t want to be in, you should just take your mind out of it. Frida pictured the ice-cream shop she and Ellie went to as teenagers. Frida would always order a burger and fries accompanied by a chocolate milkshake, because then, of course, cholesterol and calorie counts were unknown concerns. The boy who ended up being Frida’s husband, Sol, had an after-school job as the busboy. She knew he fancied her when he slipped her a cherry Coke one day. A smile crossed Frida’s weary face as she remembered dancing a jitterbug during Sol’s break. Then Frida felt something cold drench her already wet hair. She leapt up and turned around.
“Sorry,” a young man in a ripped T-shirt called out as he scooted behind her with two gl
asses of beer in his hands. Frida felt the back of her head. Her hair was sticky and matted.
“Watch where you’re going!” Barbara shouted at the boy.
“Hey, I said I was sorry!” he shouted back as his tablemates snickered.
“Mrs. Sustamorn, this is my friend Zach,” Johnny announced, coming back to the table.
“You’re Lucy’s mom?” Zach asked.
“I am. And this is our friend Frida,” Barbara introduced her, but Frida was still trying to comb the beer out of her hair with her fingers.
“They’re waiting for Lucy,” Johnny told Zach as they sat down.
“We’re meeting your niece here, too. Nice girl,” Zach said as he took a sip of his beer.
“Oh, she’s not . . .” Frida started. “Oh, forget it.” She sighed and went back to work on her hair.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Zach said, leaning into Frida.
“Yes, I’d love a nice—” she started to say.
Barbara interrupted and shouted. “There they are!”
Frida watched Ellie and Lucy laugh while trying to get through the crowd. Like the Red Sea parted by Moses, men formed a path on either side of the two beautiful young women, something the girls didn’t even notice.
“Lucy Sustamorn!” Barbara shouted as she stood up.
But Lucy couldn’t hear her through the crowd.
“Lucy! Yoo-hoo!” Frida shouted, but the young women still couldn’t hear them. A man had stopped Lucy’s friend and was asking her something. She could see the friend shaking her head no as Lucy grabbed her hand and proceeded to walk through the crowd.
“Yo, Luce!” Johnny shouted, but Lucy was bending down to say hello to a bunch of people sitting at a table in the front. She was introducing her cousin to the table. The cousin nodded to each person.
“I’ll go get them,” Zach offered.
As the song playing over the speaker system ended, Barbara snagged the opportunity, yelling, “Lucy Sustamorn! You get over here right now!”
The entire bar suddenly fell silent. Lucy and Ellie looked to the back of the room, where Barbara, Frida, Johnny, and Zach stood.
Barbara began to shove her way through the crowd.
“Make a break for it!” Lucy cried, pushing Ellie toward the door.
make a break for it!
It was a moment I had dreamed of for so many years, walking into that bar with Lucy in my short little black dress. The bar was alive with young people, all in their twenties, some still dressed up from work. A lot of the men had taken off their ties and unbuttoned the top buttons of their shirts. Some of the women were in little shift dresses. They had taken their hair down. The rest of the younger people were in jeans and T-shirts.
Lucy seemed to know everyone in that bar. Even with my newly restored hearing, I couldn’t make out a word she was saying to anyone, so I just nodded, a smile plastered on my face. The bar was packed with more people than I’m sure the fire code allowed. All of these young men made way for us as we passed by, like Moses and the Red Sea. I couldn’t believe it!
“Hello, beautiful!” a young man said to me as I walked by. I smiled as I nodded to him.
“The music is so loud,” I shouted to Lucy, and she laughed.
“Lucy!” a table of men called out and she bent down to give one of them a peck on the cheek.
“This is my cousin!” she said, pointing to me. At least I think that’s what she said. I just nodded and smiled again. You would not believe how loud the music was. But I didn’t really care.
Those few moments, walking through that bar—that was what I needed. I felt so young, so full of energy. I felt more beautiful then than I had the entire day.
And then I heard the last voice in the world I wanted to hear.
“Lucy Sustamorn! You get over here right now!” the voice came booming across the bar.
We both looked in the direction of the voice. Practically the entire bar looked in the direction of the voice.
Standing in the back of the bar were Barbara and Frida, looking as if they’d been dragged behind a city bus for several miles. They were wet and disheveled. Frida looked like she was close to collapsing.
“Make a break for it!” Lucy said as she pushed me toward the door.
Now, believe me, I’ve seen Barbara angry. You don’t want to get on my child’s bad side. I’ve seen fury come out of her that no rational person should have. Barbara’s wrath could scare the bejesus out of the strongest man.
I thought about running out of the place. What could I have said to her? How would I explain the situation?
But then I saw Zachary.
That boy was so handsome, smiling at me as he stood there next to the two drowned rats. And what was with Frida’s hair?
I had two options: make a break for it, as Lucy proposed, or stand up and face the situation.
Barbara continued to shout, and Frida looked like she wanted to cry.
“Mom, Aunt Frida, let me explain,” Lucy said as she walked toward them.
Frida looked straight into Lucy’s eyes. “Where is your grandmother? We have been looking for her all day!”
“Do you see how upset your Aunt Frida is?” Barbara said. “Look at her!”
“She’s a wreck,” I said, dumbfounded. I’ve seen Frida overreact about things, but this level of hysteria was something I’d never seen before.
“And who the hell are you?” Frida asked me. “Why are you using Ellie’s credit card all over town?”
“Jesus, Frida! It’s because I am—”
“Hold it!” Lucy stopped me. “Let’s take this outside, where we can hear one another.”
“Is everything all right here?” Zachary asked, unsure as to just what was going on.
“Luce, what the hell is this?” Johnny asked.
“I think tonight is over,” Lucy said to Johnny. “I have to go and talk to my mom and my aunt.”
“Do you have to go, too?” Zachary asked, taking my hand.
I didn’t know what to say. I looked over at my daughter, who was completely beside herself. I looked at Frida—oh, Frida, in that dreadful sweat suit. I told her she looked like a powder puff when she bought the thing. I kept looking back and forth, from my daughter, to this handsome man, to my best friend, thinking about my one day off from life.
“I’ll meet you back here in one hour,” I said to Zachary. “Just give me one hour.”
Barbara and Frida and Lucy were already pushing their way through the crowd and I hurried to follow them. Right as the doors opened and we got outside, Barbara laid into Lucy in a way I’ve never seen before.
“Where is your grandmother, and who is this person who has been using Grandma’s credit card all day long?” she shouted, pointing at me.
“Mom, you need to get a hold of yourself,” Lucy said in an attempt to calm her.
“No, Lucy, you have no idea how sick and worried your mother has been,” Frida interjected. “We were so out of sorts that we locked ourselves out of both my apartment and Ellie’s. We’re starving. We’ve been robbed. It has rained on us. Someone just dropped a bottle of beer down my back. We’ve walked miles and miles for one answer. Where is your grandmother?”
The three of us just stopped and stared at Frida. This was not the Frida I knew.
“Look, first things first: let’s get you both back to the apartment and out of these dirty clothes and give you a hot meal,” I said, taking Frida’s arm.
“NO!” Frida shook off my embrace. “I want to know who you are, and where Ellie is.”
I looked to Lucy for an answer, but she didn’t have one. I signaled to her that maybe I should just tell them. Lucy shook her head no.
“This is my friend Michele,” Lucy answered them like she wasn’t making it up. “She didn’t steal Grandma’s credit card; Grandma told her to get the stuff she wanted.”
“She told her to get three cakes?” Barbara asked her.
“And to put them on Ellie’s mother’s tabl
e without a tablecloth?” Frida added.
“Yes, she did!” I told them, like it really happened.
“Well, why would she need to try on and buy one of your dresses?” Barbara asked.
“Because . . .” I had no answer and again looked to Lucy for help.
“Because she’s my model and I was out of that dress,” Lucy quickly lied.
“So why did you tell me that you were cousins?” Frida demanded.
“We were just playing with you!” Lucy told her.
“Why on earth would you play with me?” Frida asked. She must have been really upset, or she wouldn’t have used Lucy’s slang.
Lucy just stood there, unable to answer her. Maybe Lucy wasn’t such a good liar.
“Look, let’s just get you back to Gram’s apartment and out of these clothes. We’ll get you both something to eat,” Lucy told her.
“Yes,” I agreed, helping Frida as Lucy took her mother’s arm and we started to walk. “There’s a chicken in the fridge.”
“Just get me home,” Frida said, taking my arm. “Just get me back there.”
You wouldn’t believe the stamina you need to hold Frida up, even if you’re a twenty-nine-year-old. My apartment was only a few blocks away, but believe me, in those few blocks I resolved I was going to get Frida to lose some weight. We walked in silence through the streets of Philadelphia. At one point, Lucy and Barbara were already a block ahead of us.
“I just want to find my friend,” Frida said to me softly.
This broke my heart. “You will, Frida, I promise you will.”
“You’re not a bad person, are you?” she asked me as she took a look at me. “You haven’t done away with Ellie, have you?”
“Of course not.”
“You’re not a nurse, and Ellie isn’t hurt, is she?”
“Now you’re talking crazy, Frida,” I said and shushed her.
She laughed. “You sound like Ellie.”
“I promise you, wherever Ellie is, she’s fine.”
“I just hope you’re right.” She was breathing heavily. “I don’t know what I would do if Ellie was hurt.”
“I promise you, she’s fine,” I repeated.
“I’ll tell you something.” She stopped me. “These women are not just my friends. They’re my family. And they’ve done nothing less than treat me as family. I’ve gone all day long without food or a bathroom or even water, and I’d go tomorrow, too, if I thought Ellie or this family was in any kind of trouble.”