The Ten Best Days of My Life (27 page)

“She lived through that, but she couldn't survive a MINI Cooper!” Both Pen and I start to laugh, but no one else does.

“Sorry,” Pen tells them. “I'm just . . . I miss her.”

“So do we,” Dana cries as my friends embrace.

“How are you?” Charles Kitteredge, my ex-fiancé, asks as we pass him in the hallway.

“I'm fine,” she tells him, taking his hand. “How are you?”

“She was an amazing person,” he tells her.

“She was,” Pen answers, as we continue to make our way through the crowd.

There are the twins, Seth and Tom Rosso, and Greg Rice on one side of the room. They wave hello to Pen, but Pen doesn't stop and I don't blame her.

“It's so those assholes to show up,” I tell Pen.

“Assholes,” Pen murmurs to herself.

“Penelope,” we hear, making our way through the crowd. It's Andrew McAuliffe. “My brother sends his regrets,” he says, putting his arm around her.

“Thank you, thank you for coming, Andy,” she says, kissing him on the cheek.

“She was one crazy chick.”

“She was,” she agrees as we walk by.

I see my old buddies from the mailroom at my dad's office. Though aged, their suits have gotten much better. I see Stan Mitchell and Lou Sernoff and my buddy Peter from Barneys. How sweet was that of them to fly in? They're standing over by Lloyd and Kate Kerner. All that running around for Kate's beach top and they didn't even get to go to Hawaii. Kate is crying and Lloyd is wiping his nose, but I'm wondering if that's because he's upset or because of his postnasal drip. Then I suddenly realize that I've lost Pen in the crowd, so I turn away and look across the room to find her.

I'm looking over to the other side of the room as I maneuver my way among all the mourners. One by one they move out of my way as I make my way over to the couch.

There they are.

“You didn't tell me you'd be here,” I say to my grandparents and uncle Morris.

“Talk to her,” Grandmom instructs me as she takes her hand off of my mother's shuddering body.

“She just needs to know that you're okay, sweetheart,” Grandpop tells me.

“How are you holding up?” uncle Morris asks.

“I'm getting through this,” I answer in the best way I can.

“You did it,” Alice Oppenheim adds, smiling, “you got here. I knew you would.”

“I figured it out,” I smile.

“Now go to your parents,” she tells me. “They need you right now.”

“Yeah, I can take over from here,” I say, giving Alice a hug and adding, “Thank you so much.”

Next to Alice is Adam. My dear Adam. Of course he's here with me.

“Do you need anything?” Adam asks, putting his arms around me.

“It was so sweet of you to be here,” I tell him, giving him a kiss. “It's all going to be okay.”

“I love you,” he tells me.

“I love you, too.”

“Mrs. Dorenfield,” Pen gently prods, standing over my parents with a plate of food in her hand, “you should eat a little something.”

“No, I'm fine, I'm fine,” my mother cries.

“Mr. D.,” Pen asks, “can I get you anything?”

“No, Penelope,” he tells her. “Maxine and I are okay.”

“Okay,” she tells him. “I'll look in on how the food is going. I'll check back with you in a little bit.”

As Pen starts to walk away, Dad takes her hand.

“Penelope,” he says with tears in his eyes, “you were a great friend.”

“Alex made it easy,” she tells him.

“You were the dearest friend, Penelope,” my mom cries. “I never saw two best girlfriends as close as you and Alex.”

“She was my soul mate,” Pen tears.

“She was mine, too,” Mom weeps.

“Come on, Maxine,” Dad softly says to my mother. “Let's go lie down for a little while.”

“Yes, I'll take care of everything here,” Pen says, helping them up. “You go rest and I'll be out here if you need anything.”

My father takes my mother's arm as I take her other arm and we head through the mourners toward my parents' room.

“So sorry for your loss,” Charles Kitteredge Sr. tells my parents.

“Thanks, Chuck,” my father says, patting him on the back.

“She was a lovely girl,” another mourner tells my mother.

“She was,” my mother tells her. “Thank you.”

The mourners continue to say things like this as we make our way.

“Thank you,” Dad tells them.

“Thank you for coming,” Mom manages to get out.

We finally make it to my parents' bedroom as Dad shuts the door and gets Mom onto the bed.

“I'm not going to be able to get through this,” Mom says, “Why did this happen? Why did this have to happen?” She starts to cry.

“I don't know, darling,” Dad tells her. “Just rest for now. Let's just rest together,” he says, cradling her in his arms.

I sit by their bed as they cry together. There's nothing I can do at this exact moment. It's my hope that just being here with them will help in some way. That's all I can do for now.

It must be hours later. The chatter of people outside has calmed. The sounds of glasses clinking and silverware jingling against dishes have been replaced with the hums of car motors pulling away. I've watched my parents go from holding on to each other and weeping to dividing themselves on either side of the bed and falling asleep. I know that now is the time, and I walk over to my mother's side of the bed.

“Mommy?” I whisper softly to her. “It's Alex. Please don't be frightened.”

“Alex?” she whispers and then begins to become startled so I caress her arm. “It's okay, Mommy. It's just me. Please don't be frightened, Mommy, it's okay.”

Her eyes are still closed, and that sudden jerk in her body upon hearing my voice dissolves back into silent sleep. “Where are you? Are you okay?” she asks through her sleep. “I miss you so much. I'm so worried about you.”

“It's okay, Mommy,” I tell her as I continue to caress her face and dry her tears. “I'm okay. I'm up in heaven with Grandmom and Grandpop. Grandmom still drives the car that Daddy gave her. Can you believe that?”

“That old Cadillac?” Mom smiles. “I knew she loved that car when Daddy gave it to her.”

“uncle Morris only smokes Cuban cigars.”

“He really is in heaven,” she smiles again.

“Yeah, and Grandpop has Phillies games to watch twenty-four hours a day.”

“Are Grandmom and Grandpop still bickering?”

“You better believe it,” I laugh and she chuckles along with me.

“And I became friends with Alice Oppenheim. She's so cool, Mom, and we went shopping together and guess what? You get all the best clothes in heaven and shoes don't pinch and even the highest heels feel like sneakers.”

“That's incredible!” she laughs. “Is Alice still saying that I stole her crinolines, because you know that's not true. I swear that I left her one.”

“Don't worry, Mom, I defended you, and Alice sends you all her love,” I tell her, beginning to get excited myself as I continue. “And you know what else?”

“What, baby?” she smiles through her sleep, full of energy.

“I met a guy! He's so cute and so nice. I finally met the man of my dreams!”

“Now I know you're in heaven,” she laughs as she adds, “Is he Jewish?”

“You know what?” I tell her, “the subject never came up.”

“Well, as long as he's good to you.”

“Yeah, Mom, he is. He's wonderful. It's all fine. Life really does go on after death,” I explain to her. “You know why it goes on?”

“Why, sweetheart?”

“It goes on because the love you had for the people on earth is still the same there.”

“And you're not in any pain, Alex? Just tell me that you're not in any pain.”

“I'm not, Mom. I'm fine. In fact, I'm in even better shape than I was before. When you get up to heaven, your cellulite is gone and you can run for miles and miles.”

“No cellulite?” she exclaims. “Now I know you're really happy!”

“I'm perfectly fine, and Grandmom and Grandpop and uncle Morris are fine and Alice is fine. I'm okay now. Please don't worry about me.”

She starts to cry again as we embrace, and then I lay her body back onto the bed.

“Alex, I just have one thing I want you to know,” she whispers.

“What is it, Mom?”

“I always wished that I was more like you,” she tells me.

“And I always wished that I was more like you,” I say as I kiss her on the cheek and she settles back into a restful sleep.

I look over at my dad, who is also sleeping, but I can tell by his tears he's heard every word. I walk over to his side of the bed and sit by his side.

“Dad,” I start, “I've had to do a lot of soul-searching up there. I've regretted one thing in my life and that's how I treated you.”

“No,” he starts sobbing, “don't regret anything.”

“I have to, Dad,” I cry. “I have to tell you how sorry I am for the things I did. I let you down. It was my stupid hard head.”

“You are my daughter,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Where do you think that came from? I knew things were going to get better though. I knew that one day you'd make me proud.”

“But how?” I ask, really starting to cry now.

“You were starting to do it. You were turning that determination into something more positive. Baby, I always loved you . . .”

“And I loved you, too . . .”

“That's something you never had to worry about. You were just too much like me, that strong will.”

And it's in this moment I know for sure. My life was not wasted. I was exactly like my father. There was no way I would not have gone on to lead a fulfilling life. I wouldn't have let myself. After all, I am my father's daughter.

“As much as you loved me, though, there was one thing you couldn't give to me. I had to figure out my life for myself,” I weep.

“As parents,” he sighs, taking a deep breath, “it's hard not to give your child everything she wants.”

“I know, Dad, but we never stopped loving each other and that's what's most important.”

“Thank you, Alex,” he cries. “Thank you so much for telling me that.”

“I love you so much, Daddy.” I wipe his tears and then my own.

“Will I see you again?” he asks me.

“I'll always be here for you whenever you need me,” I tell him.

And with that, Dad falls back into a restful sleep and I take a few steps back to watch these two people, the ones I've loved most in this world. My mother's tears have subsided as my dad takes my mom in his arms and they continue to rest.

They are at peace.

I am at peace.