Dear Mom, Dad, Stuart, Stacy, and Mitch,
Sorry if any of you have been worried about me for the past twenty-four hours. I’m actually fine. I just finally came to a decision about my life, and, well, as soon as I came to it, I decided to put it into action. I didn’t want to wait. But I thought I’d write and let you know that I’m all right. I’m back at Berkeley, actually. I’m with Sarah.
Mom, I know you pulled me out of school because you don’t like Sarah—or don’t like that I love her, I guess, would be more accurate. But a friend of Mitch’s reminded me—Kate, Mitch. She’s really cool. You should try to hang onto her—that Gramps left me some money. I know you always said I wasn’t to touch it, Mom, and that I should save it for a rainy day. But, well, here’s the thing: It’s raining. I’m going to use the money Gramps left me to pay for finishing up school, and then Sarah and me, we’re thinking about starting a kayaking service up in Puget Sound. You know, where the orcas are? Sarah and I just love orcas.
Mom, I know this has probably got you pretty mad, but the fact is, Gramps left me that money for when I turned eighteen, to do with whatever I want. Frankly, I think paying for school where I want to go, and then starting my own business, is exactly what Gramps would have wanted—just like I doubt he minded that Mitch spent his on a trip around the world, or Stacy spent hers on those horses of hers, or that Stuart spent his on . . . Stuart, did you ever even spend yours?
Well, anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’m all right, and no hard feelings, and stuff.
Stuart, I hope I’m still invited to your wedding and all, but if I can’t bring Sarah as my date, I’m not coming.
Dad, call me sometime. You know the number.
Mom. Whatever.
Mitch and Stacy, thanks for everything.
Love to you all,
Sean
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Stacy Trent
Re: Sean
She fax you a copy of her letter yet? I’m so proud I could burst. I hope she and Sarah DO come to Stuart’s wedding, whether they’re invited or not. You know they’ll be the only couple there worth talking to.
S
To: Stacy Trent
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog
Re: Sean
Fwd: l Re: You
I wouldn’t count on any of us getting invited. Get a load of the forwarded e-mail.
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Stacy Trent
Re: Sean
No fair! I want Stuart to refuse to speak to me, too! You get all the luck.
FYI, thanks to Sean’s letter, Mom’s taken to her bed. She got somebody to refill her script for Valium.
My question is: Where the hell is Dad? I thought he was supposed to be home by now. Oh well.
Stace
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Vivica
Re: Lunch
Oh my God, it was so nice to meet you! You really are just as cute as your picture. I’m so sorry Dale wouldn’t marry you like you wanted him to. You totally deserve to have a nice husband . . . especially after you traded plates with me (who knew bococino meant cheese?) It’s no joke, being lactose intolerant. I can’t even have sour cream on my potato skins anymore!
I’m sorry you won’t consider being a model. Really, it is just loads of fun. And I’m almost positive Ricardo could get you a gig or two. I mean, maybe notVogue, but like, catalog stuff, or something.
Anyway, it was really fun meeting you, and I hope we can get together again sometime soon. I don’t know when, though, ’cause like I said, the band leaves tomorrow for its tour and I’m off to Milan. . . . but I’ll call ya when I get back!!!!!
Love,
Viv
Best Way Messenger Service
Envelope for Kate Mackenzie
The New York Journal
216 W. 57th Street
A Note from
Dale Carter of
I’m Not Making Any More Sandwiches
Liberation Records
Dear Kate,
Look, Kate, I know I’m not your favorite person in the world right now, but I just want to say thanks for not telling Vivica about how I bit off that guy’s finger. I mean, biting off a guy’s finger, that’s like fighting dirty, and I don’t want Vivica to think I’m a dirty fighter. I mean, the guy DID keep shoving his hand in my mouth, so it wasn’t like I had a choice.
But Viv wouldn’t know that. So thanks. Really. For not telling her.
I’m really sorry things didn’t work out between us and all, but I think you’re right about it being better this way. I mean, Vivica is a totally dope girl, and I never would’ve met her if you hadn’t dumped me.
And don’t worry about your security deposit. I feel real bad about all that, and about you losing your job and all of that. So I’m messengering over a check for your share of the deposit and some other stuff. Like, you know, to pay you back for all the shit you bought for the place, like the TV and all. Hope it’ll be enough to help you find a new pad of your own.
Well, okay, I guess that’s it. Peace out.
Dale
P.S. What do you think of this new song?
When the stars come out at night
I call them Vivica
And when the moon, it shines so bright
I call it Vivica
And when the sun comes up, and warms us
with its healing rays
I call it Vivica,
Vivica,
My Vivica.
Dale Carter
0002
207 E. 3rd St. Apt. 10J
New York, NY 10003
March 23, 2004
Kathleen Mackenzie
$10,000
Ten thousand and 00 cents
DOLLARS
NY MetroBank
Park Avenue, New York
MEMO:For the Apt and shit
Dale Carter
:0003058439: 854765339 • 0002
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Dale
Oh my God. That freak Dale—you know what he did? Messengered me over a check for ten grand.
TEN GRAND.
What do I DO????
Kate
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Jen Sadler
Re: Dale
What do you mean, what do you do? You cash it!
And don’t tell me you don’t think you should. You EARNED that money. You cooked and cleaned like a slave for him for all those years, and for what? A big fat, “I have to take it one day at a time”? You take that check and you run, don’t walk, to Chase and deposit it, before he sobers up.
To: Jen Sadler
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Dale
You’re right. I’ll deposit it after work. There’s something else I’ve got to do right now, though.
Kate
Hola! You have reached the line of Ida Lopez. Ida is not here to take your call. Leave a message and she will get back to you.
(Tone)
Hi, Mrs. Lopez? It’s Kate. Kate Mackenzie. You know, from theJournal? I just wanted to say thank you so much for the cookies. They were really delicious. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. But thank you so much for thinking of me.
Also I was wondering if your lawyer had been in touch with you yet. Because—I don’t know if you know this yet—but I got my job back, and I just now got the reinstatement papers for you on my desk. Which means the paper wants you back, Mrs. Lopez. With full benefits, and no lost pay from the time you were gone. Oh, I really hope you’ll come back, Mrs. Lopez. We really miss you around here. And you know, Stuart Hertzog just tendered his firm’s resignation as theJournal ’s attorneys, so it’s not like you’ll be seeing him around anymore, either. Both he and Amy—you know, my boss? They’re gone. So please let me know, Mrs. Lopez, about whether you’re coming back. I’m keeping my fingers crossed!
(Click)
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Tony Salerno
Re: Ida Lopez
Hi, Kate. You don’t know me, I’m married to Nadine Wilcock, you know, the food critic over there at theJournal ?
Anyway, I own the restaurant Fresche—you might have heard of it. I’m also Ida Lopez’s new boss. Yeah, that’s right. Nadine told me all about Mrs. Lopez and her chocolate chip cookies and all, so I did a little investigating, and well . . . she’s my new pastry chef. No offense, but I pay her a lot more than you guys did, so I can see why she might not want to leave. Have you ever tasted her blueberry blintzes? Mind-blowing.
So, anyway, looks like your loss is our gain . . . but it’s Ida’s gain, too.
And you can tell all those ravenousNew York Journal -ists that if they miss Ida’s home cooking, they can just come on over to Fresche anytime they want!
Best,
Tony Salerno
Owner/master chef
Fresche
To: Margaret Hertzog
Fr: Arthur Hertzog
Re: All of you
Just a quick note to say there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding concerning my whereabouts. I am not, as many of you seem to believe, on my way back to New York. The fellas and I are on our way to Pebble Beach, to try our hand at the most challenging course known to man.
I can see how this information might be upsetting to some of you. However, I had a near death experience a year ago, and it taught me one thing: Don’t waste your time on stupid shit. And frankly, all I seem to hear from some of you people is stupid shit.
Stuart, you could have a lot worse things wrong with you than the fact that you’re a carrier for a disease that you’ll never actually have. I heard you’re engaged to that girl you brought home for Thanksgiving dinner. Mazel tov. Tell her to eat more, she’s too skinny.
As for your problems with your brother, I have a feeling that those will soon be alleviated: I just got off the phone with Mitch, who has informed me that he has had enough with corporate law. He’s returning to his position as a public defender downtown where, he says, the clients are friendlier and less apt to commit perjury. I won’t stand in his way. Stuart, I know that by now everyone at Hertzog Webber and Doyle will have gotten used to my absence, and Mitchell’s leaving the firm shouldn’t have a deleterious effect on anything.
Margaret, I understand that you’re upset with Mitchell for something he did to Stuart’s fiancée. I told you when they were kids, and I’ll tell you now that they’re adults: Keep out of it. It’s your own fault, anyway. If you didn’t keep on telling Stuart he was your favorite, he wouldn’t have gotten such a swelled head to begin with.
And no, Stuart, I don’t mean that literally.
As for Janice’s becoming a lesbian and drawing against her capital: Again, Margaret, keep out of it. I don’t know about this lesbian business, and frankly, I don’t want to know. But that money is Janice’s to do with as she pleases. I do have to draw the line at her spending it on school. I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. I will pay for Janice’s tuition, as I did for all you kids. Janice, your orca business sounds like a damned stupid idea, but it’s your money, and if it makes you happy, you kayak around Puget Sound as much as you want.
Now I would appreciate it if you would all quit calling me, e-mailing me, Fed-Exing me, faxing me, and leaving messages for me at the hotel desk. I am on VACATION. I will let you know when it’s over. But I can tell you, it won’t be anytime soon.
I think I can get nine more holes in before dark, so I’m off. Good-bye.
Dad
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Helen Green
Re: Professor Wingblade
Dear Ms. Mackenzie,
I regret to inform you that Professor Wingblade is on sabbatical this year in Uganda. Due to the lack of electricity in the remote village in which he is doing his research, he does not have access to e-mail. If your message is of an urgent nature you can attempt to send it via “snail mail.” However, the postal system in the area in which the professor is currently staying is unreliable at best. The professor has asked that all mail of a non-urgent nature be held until his return. Please let us know if we can be of any further assistance to you.
Sincerely,
Helen Green
Administrative Assistant
Department of Psychology
College of Arts and Sciences
University of Kentucky
To: Helen Green
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: Professor Wingblade
Dear Helen,
You know what? It doesn’t matter. I think it’s going to be all right. Tell Professor Wingblade hi from me when he gets back.
Kate
To: Kate Mackenzie
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog
Re: You
So, now that you’ve gotten your job back, you’ll probably want to start thinking about finding a place to live.
And I just wanted to let you know, there’s a vacancy in my building. In my apartment, actually. And I was kind of wondering how you felt about that.
Mitch
To: Mitchell Hertzog
Fr: Kate Mackenzie
Re: You
Interesting proposition. Let’s meet at your place to discuss after work today.
Kate