Lauren Takes Leave (40 page)

“Give it up for the main event, people!” Leslie calls,
standing on her chair, wobbly. Her husband gently pulls her down.

“About time,” Great-Aunt Elaine yawns.

I try to make eye contact with Lenny, but he’s not looking
up. I lose track of him on the other side of the ballroom as the lights dim
once again.

“I want to thank you all for coming tonight for this
very
special event. As you know, each year, the temple tries to find
creative ways to raise funds to support our community. This temple provides so
many Jewish individuals and families with cultural and educational activities,
from our wonderful preschool to our bar- and bat-mitzvah programs to our adult learning
and travel opportunities. Why, this year alone, we visited Israel, Turkey, and
Boca!” Cheers and whistles follow from table six. “Okay, Dave, that’s enough.
We know how you like those Turkish baths!” More hoots from table six ensue.

“Enough,” the rabbi continues. “Let’s get to the moment
you have all been waiting for.” People begin to applaud, but the rabbi holds up
his hand to delay them. “First, I need to say thank you. Without these seven
brave and talented volunteers from our very own Beth El congregation, this
night would not have been possible. They have each been matched with an
appropriate dance partner and teacher, with whom they have been practicing and
preparing for several months now, taking time away from their families in order
to learn and grow.

“Now, many of you may
think
you know what is
coming, because you enjoy watching the television version of this event and are
familiar with the concept. But believe you me, you have never seen anything
quite like this. Ladies and gentlemen, from the glamour of Hollywood straight
to the Beth El ballroom: Welcome to
Dancing with the Stars of David!
”

Thunderous applause, of course, follows his words. There
is no holding back; Great-Aunt Elaine, getting a second wind, stands and starts
stomping her rubber-tipped cane against the floor. People go as wild as
possible in God’s house, some even standing up or putting their fingers near
their incisors to whistle.

“Jodi’s gonna rock!” echoes through the room just as the
lights go completely dark and the first couple enter the room. Lee, realizing
he has spoken too loudly, grimaces. He whispers to Doug and me, “She’s on
second.”

“I know,” I whisper back. “I’m a little bit nervous for
her.”

“Relax, she’s a pro,” Jodi’s mom says. “I put her in dance
competitions and pageants from the time she was three, like JonBenét.”

“That’s scary,” Doug says.

“No, actually, it explains quite a lot,” I say. Like one’s
personal quest for fame and fortune. Imagine being told your whole life that
you were a star? And then you didn’t become one. Unless you pretend that
chairing the book fair for the PTA is akin to being Miss Universe.

Not that becoming an educational guru like Georgie was
quite as big as that for me, but still. I can identify with the feeling of
unfulfilled ambitions.

I find a roving waitress and request a double shot of
Baron Herzog chardonnay.

Having downed that like it was Gatorade after a four-mile
run, I motion to Doug. “I’m going to the bathroom quickly, before the first
so-called contestant.”

Doug looks up from the photos in his hand and manages a
pained smile in my direction. Lee must be showing off pictures of his new
Porsche again.

In the hallway, I run into Kat, who is deeply focused on
her preferred mode of communication, typing furiously on her phone. “How’s
Shay?” I ask in annoyance, sure that she’s flirting with disaster.

She stops what she’s doing, slowly crosses her arms across
her chest, and gives me a Look. “And how’s Doug?”

“What?” I pause, deciding how to answer. “I told him.”

“Everything?” she asks, her green eyes probing. “About
Lenny?”

I squirm. “Not quite.”

“Hmm,” she says. “That doesn’t please me. And it doesn’t
please me that Lenny’s here tonight. I had to leave the ballroom because your
little love triangle, combined with Leslie’s presence, made me feel all
goosebumpy. See?” She shows me the hair on her arms, which is indeed sticking
up at attention. “Like Tim said, Mercury is in retrograde, and it causes
mishaps with travel and communications, and delays of all sorts. Plus, lots of
anger.”

I stifle a laugh. “Kat, really?
Mercury is in
retrograde?
This explains our trip to Miami and Leslie’s erratic behavior,
I suppose? Oh, I see. Forget Shay for the meanwhile. Is that what Varka told
you, as you were busy texting her just now? Does Varka agree with Tim Cubix’s
astrology?”

Kat looks up through her curls and I know I’m right.

“Kat! Lemme guess, for twenty-seven dollars a minute,
Varka has an explanation for everything, like, that our trip got messed up
because Jodi’s grandma died, and that we were delayed in the parade traffic
because Mercury was moving backward. Ah, it all makes perfect sense now, of
course! I want to know, Kat, did I kiss Lenny because of the alignment of the
planets?”

Kat has found a loose thread in her sweater and is very busy
unraveling it. I back off for a second and try to pinpoint what’s really
upsetting me.

“Kitty-Kat,” I sigh, my tone softening, “I just hate to
think that you find comfort in some pretend astrological psychic instead of in
me and Jodi, in the real world right here.”

She shrugs. “We all have our ways of dealing, Lauren.”

It’s true, of course. Kat finds solace in the reading of
the stars, Jodi by coming up with ways to be rich and famous. And I choose
refuge from my real-world problems by creating an alternate-reality
relationship, one devoid of responsibility and filled only with pleasure.

“Varka and I are just saying, this won’t resolve itself.
We think you need to spill it all to Doug.”

“Oh,
we
do, huh?” I say. Then Kat and I both turn
our heads at the sound of a rustling to our left.

“Don’t worry, Kat,” Doug says, standing behind us in the
hallway, partially hidden by a fig tree. “She just has.”

The bottom falls out of my stomach.

“I came to find you guys and tell you that Jodi’s on
next.” Doug walks back toward the ballroom and pushes his full weight against
the doors. “Oh, and Lauren?” He stares at me for one quick moment, the look on
his face registering tremendous hurt, disappointment, and white-hot anger. I’ve
never seen anything like it before. “Fuck you.” Then he’s gone, absorbed into
the darkness of the temple ballroom.

“Shit!” Kat says.

I follow Doug, and Kat follows me, bursting through the
doors and disrupting the show. Applause is dying down and I hear MC Lenny
introducing the next couple. “Hailing from Little Odessa, Queens, and Big
Odessa, Russia, please give it up for stay-at-home mom Jodi Moncrieff and
professional Arthur Murray dance instructor Rudy Cryzinski!”

“Hey, MC Lenny,” Doug calls, his voice coming from some
point between tables eleven and twelve in the far right-hand corner of the
room. Every head turns at the outburst. “You are officially a scumbag!”

Doug finds his way to a glowing red emergency exit sign.
He pushes against the secure door and disappears into the night.

The wailing of the alarm matches my growing sense of
absolute panic.

What have I done?

And, more importantly, what am I going to do about it now?

I follow my husband out into the chilly night, is what I
do.

“Lauren!” I hear Jodi call, but I can’t go back in there
and cheer for her, not while my marriage is disappearing out the back door. I
follow Doug around to the parking lot and realize what he’s trying to do.
Escape.

“Lauren!” Kat calls, running after me.

“Lauren!” Lenny calls.

“Lenny, just go back inside, will you?” I hear Kat say.
“Stay out of it. Jeez.”

“Moses, don’t give the man the keys to our car!” I huff,
catching up to Doug at the valet station. “He’s been…sipping kosher wine!”

“Fine, I’ll walk,” Doug says, starting out of the lot and
onto a neighborhood street, hands deep in his pockets, back hunched.

“I’m coming with you,” I say. It’s hard to keep pace with
him in my new Louboutin heels. I end up taking very quick, little steps, but
still fall a few feet behind.

“Don’t,” Doug says, stopping midstride and turning
abruptly toward me. “Just. Don’t.”

“But—” I begin. “I want to talk!”

“You know what? Maybe
I
don’t want to talk to
you
right now, okay? You had plenty of time to talk to me in the last, oh,
twenty-four hours or so, and you didn’t. We’ve had, like, our whole
lives
to talk, and you chose running away instead of telling me what’s really going
on!”

He’s yelling at me and holding back tears at the same
time.

“You
lied
to me, Lauren! You very quietly, very
deliberately lied by hiding the truth.”

I’m crying as his words register. This trip to Miami was
meant as a hall pass, a get-out-of-jail-free card. But adult life is not a
middle school hallway where you can languish while cutting gym class.

“I wish I had just told you the truth.” I have snot and
tears everywhere.

Doug studies my face. “But you don’t wish that you hadn’t
kissed him.” It’s not a question.

What would have happened if I had
not
kissed Lenny
the other night at the Clevelander? I might have always wondered, always
fantasized about him. I probably would have kept up the flirtation when we came
back to New York, letting Lenny’s attention continue to undermine my marriage.
But now, with that behind me, I’m officially released from the silly spell of
pretend infidelity.

“No,” I say. “I don’t regret it.”

“Nice,” Doug spits. He starts to walk down a hill and into
town, away from me, away from the lights of the temple.

“I needed to know, Doug!” I say. “I acted completely
immature, I understand that. And I’m not proud of what I did, but, at the same
time, I know it was sort of the right thing to do.”

“How can you say that?” he asks, still walking away.

“Because, in the end, it brought me back to you.”

He turns and faces me one more time. “That’s such twisted
logic! You had to kiss somebody else to come back to me? What are you, a
senator?” We are screaming so loudly that a light comes on inside a split-level
home; a curtain on the second floor pulls back to watch us.

“I love you, Doug. But I’m not perfect.”

“I knew that already,” he says ruefully. “You didn’t have
to go so far out of your way to prove it.”

He wipes his face with the back of his shirt and then runs
his hands through his hair. He inhales a ragged breath while I wait. Then he
seems to make some sort of decision.

“Go back, Lauren. Watch Jodi. I’ll be at Starbucks down
the hill. I need some time alone.”

I stand in the middle of the sleepy suburban street until
I can no longer see his silhouette under the streetlamps.

I am shaking all over by the time I get back to the Beth
El parking lot. I’m not sure that I made my point clearly, but at least for
now, it seems like Doug won’t bolt.

I guess that’s the most I can hope for after being so
stupid. So incredibly juvenile and stupid.

“I’ve got the keys to your car,” Kat says. “Give the word
and I’ll track Doug down for you, hit him with the vehicle, drug him with
painkillers, and keep him as your love prisoner until he forgives you.” She’s
been waiting on the temple steps for me, but now she stands to gives me a hug.

“You’d Kathy Bates him for me? Full-on
Misery
?”

I pull back and squeeze her hands, tears welling up in my
eyes. Kat’s ridiculously corrupt mind, coupled with her wicked sense of humor,
always yanks me back from the brink.

“You know I would,” she says. “And not just because it would
be fun.”

We walk together back toward the temple, my body feeling
tired and physically bruised. “We talked a little,” I say. “I think it will be
okay. I mean, I
hope
,” I add, as an afterthought.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Kat says, not sounding at all sure.

The guests are just getting settled back into the ballroom
after the impromptu fire drill caused by Doug’s hasty exit. Kat and I take
seats at Jodi’s family table.

“Sorry,” I mouth to Jodi, who is coming toward me with
concern on her face.

“You okay?” she mouths back.

I shake my head in an awkward maybe-yes-maybe-no way. She
nods knowingly, then closes her eyes, rolling her neck side to side and trying
to prepare for the dance.

The voice announcing the couple this time is Rabbi
Cantor’s. “What an exciting evening we’re having, Congregation Beth El!
Luckily, the fire department’s services were not needed, and so, without
further ado, we shall return to
Dancing with the Stars of David
!”

“Where’s Lenny?” I ask Kat.

“Gone,” she says. “Took his computer slideshow and
hightailed it.”

I feel bad about that; Lenny keeps getting caught in my
life’s dramas. I’ll have to send him an e-mail to apologize.

“Do not send him an e-mail to apologize,” Kat says,
reading my mind. “He’s cool; I talked to him a bit outside before he left. But
I doubt he’ll be hanging with us anytime soon. Which is probably a good thing,
no offense.”

Jodi takes her position on our side of the dance floor,
one foot behind the other, left hip facing her partner, Rudy. Her head is
turned away from him in a dramatic frieze. Rudy is waiting on the other side of
parquet tile, looking like a gymnast ready to mount a pommel horse.

Jodi stands still like that for a good ten seconds, as the
music takes its time to start. In the still air, her mom whispers to our table,
“She was always such a graceful dancer.”