Ascent (23 page)

I walk in and sit on the edge of the couch. Victor and Nikki are fighting. Nikki’s hair is perfect as she goes on about whatever Victor has done wrong on this episode. Victor and Nikki have been fighting since I was born.

“Do you want to look at ads in the paper? I bet there are some great jobs. I’m sure anyone would hire you.”

Mom looks away from the TV. She doesn’t want to get a job but she knows she has to. Mom hasn’t worked since I was born. But now I’m practically old enough to stay home by myself.

“Okay. We’ll go down to the store later and get a paper. I’ll let you circle the jobs you think I should apply for and we’ll get popsicles. If we can find enough jobs we’ll go out and drop off resumes tomorrow. It’s what Dad wants me to do. You’ll be okay if I get a job, won’t you?”

I nod my head. Anything to get Mom’s mind off her failed acting career.

I jump off the couch. “Popsicles, yeah!” And I bound back to my room, bouncing all the way. Things are changing. Maybe Mom won’t end up on a sidewalk outside a hotel.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Farrah–Kate

The next morning I get up early and I don’t know why. Maybe that’s the way these time travel things work – like a loop that keeps going around and around. I know what’s going to happen, but I don’t.

I pick out Mom’s favorite outfit. It’s a dress, even though I hate wearing dresses. I plug in my curling iron and twist my hair around the way Mom taught me, careful not to burn my hand. I pull out my Mary Janes from my closet. It’s a day to look professional because I’m going to help Mom find a job, even though I know Mom’s employment prospects are dim. As I get ready, the house is in total silence.

I want to look my best. Because back then it was the last day I saw my mother.

I walk into the kitchen and wait at the table. My eight-year-old self is trying to make life easy for Mom. All dressed and ready for whatever the day has in store.

Dad comes into the kitchen wearing jeans and a polo-shirt with his book bag hanging off his shoulder. He fiddles with the coffee maker until it starts steaming and spitting water. While he waits for the coffee to finish, he folds his arms over his chest. When the sputtering stops he gets out a mug and pours half the contents in and screws on the lid.

Once he’s done with his morning ritual, he spins around and sees me for the first time.

“You’re up early,” he mutters at me as he heads to the door.

“Yeah! I’m going to help Mom find a job today!” My voice is more enthusiastic than I mean it to be. It’s like I can make it happen by saying the words.

“Does she know that?”

I shrug my shoulders and glance down the hallway towards her bedroom. There is absolutely no movement.

“Well, it would be great if you could actually help her find one. I wouldn’t hold my breath though.”

He opens the door and lets it fall back behind him. It
clacks
against the doorway when it shuts, echoing through the house. The car’s engine starts and fades as he pulls out of the driveway.

***

Mom doesn’t make an appearance until almost 10:00. I sit on the couch watching Mom’s soap operas, waiting for her to come out of the room so I can help her find a job. I’m sure anybody will hire my mom. They just need to meet her.

I eat three bowls of Lucky Charms and the only thing that stops me from a fourth is the fact I already picked all the marshmallows out of the box. I want to go down to her room and knock on the door. My ears are on high alert, waiting for the sound of her coming down the hallway. But the only sounds in the house are my breathing, Bandage’s purring, and the TV.

Being around Mom is like walking on eggshells. She lives between her movie star self and her has-been self. It’s impossible to balance between the two. To be around her is to always be super careful to not send her to the wrong side. My goal was to always keep Mom as her movie star self, not the self that looked like it was about to self-destruct.

But when you’re eight and your mom’s still around, life’s still all sunshine and rainbows.

The soft sound of footsteps tickles my ears and I hear the shower run. Forty minutes later Mom comes out wearing a suit with broad shoulders pads that make her look like a scarecrow masquerading in the clothes of a linebacker.

She places a newspaper on the table and gives me a weak smile. It’s the same newspaper from yesterday – the one we circled the jobs in. “So, I guess you’re stuck with me today, Farrah. You can wait in the car while I drop off resumes.”

“Good!” I jump off the couch excitedly. I’m positive that someone really lucky will hire Mom. At least, my eight-year-old self is.

***

We spend the first part of the afternoon driving through the business district. Mom walks into tall buildings, the glass windows reaching up to the sky, to drop off her resume. The trips are quick. Every time she stops and gets out of the car I wonder how long she’ll be, if they’ll interview her right on the spot, if they’ll want her to work the same day. I’m sure every person Mom hands her resume to will want to hire her right then. I fret over who will watch me while dad at school. But she’s never gone long. Every time she returns she has that same worried look.

By four o’clock she’s checked off our list. We drive around in circles until we arrive at the mall. For a minute I think we’ll go shopping. Kelly Miller, the girl from my school all the girls want to be, just got the cutest wedge sandals and I want a pair. I’ve been talking to Mom about them all week. But instead she grabs what’s left of her resumes and steps out of the car.

“Farah-Kate, why don’t you follow me inside? It’s going to be a while and I don’t want you waiting in the car by yourself. I’ll give you a five and maybe you can get an Orange Julius or something.”

I hop out of the car. I love Orange Julius. The idea of a fruity, frozen drink makes me forget why we’re walking inside.

I walk to the center of the mall to get my drink while Mom walks into J.C. Penney’s. There is nothing more depressing than J.C. Penney’s. Mom has her resume firmly in hand as she walks in the store.

A clique of teens hangs out in the food court. I want nothing more than to be a teen and wear heeled shoes and makeup. Mom still doesn’t let me wear makeup. The day I snuck into her room to put on her blue eye shadow she made me wash my face with her goopy cream. Dad laughed as Mom stood red-faced in the bathroom door making sure I got off every last speckle. These girls are everything I want to be. I can’t stop staring as they swish their hair over their shoulders and giggle at the guys who can’t take their eyes off of them.

Mom comes out of J.C. Penney’s and spots me sitting alone at a table. She pulls out the chair across from me and sits down. She rests her chin on the flat of her hand and sighs. “I guess we’re done for the day.”

I nod my head. The high school students giggle in the distance. We might as well be in a different universe.

“Are you hungry?”

I look down at my empty Orange Julius. Besides Lucky Charms, it’s all I’ve eaten all day. “Yes.”

“Good, I know just the place.”

***

The place is a bar that has patio seating where parents can sit outside with their children. It’s a warm spring day and the patio is filled with dejected hopefuls talking about parts they didn’t get, failed auditions, unruly managers. The hostess seats us at a table at the very end of the patio next to a gate and the door where servers rush in and out.

Mom whips out a cigarette and lights it between her shaking fingers. In the middle of the hipsters on the patio, Mom is out of place in her eighties suit and her eight-year-old daughter.

The waiter looks like a high school student suffering through a day of torture. “Get you something to drink?” Mom looks over the menu. She can’t make up her mind. “It’s happy hour,” the waiter offers. He picks up a card in the middle of the table and hands it to mom. I can see
½ Off Drinks From 3 – 7
across the top.

“Oh great, okay, how about a lemon drop martini? And she’ll take a regular lemonade and a plate of appetizers from the menu.”

The waiter walks away and Mom is satisfied with the order. She lights another cigarette. The wind catches the smoke and blows it in my face. It burns the inside of my nose. A couple of minutes later, the waiter brings our drinks out to us. Mom takes a couple of sips. The day melts away. Mom takes off her jacket and undoes the top couple of buttons on her blouse. It’s been so long since Mom’s been out. It’s like she forgets I’m there.

A group of guys sitting on the other side of the patio keep looking our direction. Mom doesn’t notice them. The waiter brings our food and Mom orders a second drink. She’s lost in her own world.

“Lynette?”

Mom looks up and recognition crosses her face. Goosebumps rise all over my body. It’s the guy. The guy I’ve been watching out for. The guy Mom left with to go to the hotel. And Lisa gave me instructions to make sure it didn’t happen.

“Greg!” She stands up and hugs him. He holds on a little longer than necessary. Then he plants a kiss on each of her cheeks. It’s all very LA. “God, it’s been so long. It’s been…” Mom looks at me like she just then remembers I’m there.

He says, “Since before Farrah was born. Last time was during
Taxi Driver
. How have you been?”

“Wonderful,” Mom lies.

“Still acting? I haven’t seen you forever. I guess everything changes once you have a kid, huh?”

I want to disappear. To slip through a crack in the sidewalk or a vortex to take me back to the presence.
I
ruined Mom’s career. But I have to stay. I have to keep Mom away from the hotel.

“You know I took some time off to be with Farrah, but now that she’s getting older I’m getting back into things. I went to an audition yesterday. I can’t wait to start acting again.”

“That’s great…” He looks back to his table. “Do you want to come join us? It’s been so long. There’s like a million things we can catch up on. Maybe we can get your kid a separate table and some crayons or something.”

Mom looks at me and for a flash of a second I think she’ll say “no”. But this is one of her Hollywood friends. And all mom ever wanted was Hollywood.

“Sure, we’d love to join you.”

Greg has the waiter pull up a separate table for me with crayons and a kid’s menu to color on. Crayons are for babies. But Mom is talking to her friends. So I color and listen in on them talking. All I have to do is make sure Mom doesn’t go to the hotel. If she doesn’t end up at the hotel she’ll have a different ending. She deserves a different ending.

They order another round of drinks. By now I’ve colored everything on the menu. I listen to Mom’s lies about her career. She won’t tell them she’s an out of work actress. This is the life she always wanted.

Greg’s an actor in one of those soap operas Mom watches during the day. He lives on Sunset Blvd. and he’s having a party the South Beverly Hotel.

“I could have Bill come pick up Farrah.” Mom glances over at me. A look of guilt crosses her face. “If I could just use your phone.” Mom’s voice is small when she says it. She can’t afford a cellular phone.

Greg hands her his phone and she walks to the other side of the gate to call Dad. I hear her voice. For once, she sounds excited. It’s a long conversation. I know Dad said “no” but she tries to talk him into it anyway.

Mom returns with a smile on her face. “Bill will be here for Farrah as soon as he fights his way through traffic.

“Mom?” She looks at me for the first time. “Can we just go home?”

“Dad’s on his way.” She looks back at me, annoyed. I hate pushing her.

“Why can’t we just
go
?”

Greg gives me one of those looks you give when you don’t have any kids. I don’t care. He doesn’t know what will happen.

“Farrah, don’t use that tone.”

“But …
Please
? Let’s just go. I have … a stomach ache.”

“Dad will be here in a few.”

“But I’m sick –”

“Farrah–Kate! You were fine a few minutes ago!”

“Mom!”

She leans down and whispers in my ear. “These people know people. I need to get back to work and maybe they can help me. Be good!” Then she goes into the restaurant and returns with another menu for me to color. “Here, do this while we wait for Dad.”

She returns to the table.

***

I color the front and the back and fake puking sounds that Mom ignores. Greg flashes me a few curious gazes and then returns his attention to Mom. In the time we’re waiting, she smokes three more cigarettes and has another martini.

Dad walks out to the patio in khaki pants and an untucked white t-shirt. He glances at Mom and pulls up a chair across from where I’m sitting.

“What’s going on, Farrah?”

“Nothing. I want to go home and I want Mom to come too.”