up in defeat if he'd
had to figure out sleeping arrangements at Casa Pollack that night.
Nick had already doubled-up in Alex's room, sleeping on the trundle. That left the trundle under the twin in his room, where Lucille
now slept, and my master bedroom with its queen-size bed and
attached bathroom.
Call me selfish, but having already lost my husband and my financial security last week, I wasn't about to give up half my bed
this week. Not even to my mother.
I took a mental deep breath and laid out the sleeping arrangements. "Mama, I'm afraid you and Lucille will have to share a
room.
"Absolutely not," said Lucille. She grabbed her cane and
pounded it into the carpet. Mephisto yelped. "She can sleep with
you. My room is too small."
I refused to let my mother-in-law boss me around in my own
home. Comrade Lucille could share. Like a good communist. "No"
I turned to my mother, "Mama, I'm sorry."
Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened in horror. "Anastasia, you
can't-"
"I'm the one paying room and board," said Lucille, her voice
rising several octaves. "That entitles me to a room of my own."
"Paying?" Mama's brow wrinkled. "You mean she's not just visiting?"
"Unfortunately."
"That woman's living with you?" Mama's shrieked question did
wonders for the headache that had begun the moment I walked in
the house-ratcheting it up from a quartet of percussionists to the
entire New York Philharmonic pounding out the 1812 Overture. At glass-shattering decibels. I quickly explained about the fire. And
Lucille's life savings going up in flames.
Mama turned on Lucille. "Wake up and smell the twenty-first
century, you stupid old Bolshevik cow. The Depression ended over
sixty years ago. Ever hear of FDIC? Banks have been safe for decades."
Lucille pounced on Mama. "Capitalists like you caused the Depression. It happened once; it can happen again. FDIC or no
FDIC. Ever hear of Enron? Or Tyco? Or WorldCom?"
That was hitting below the belt. Mama had heard of all three.
She'd lost much of her retirement savings because of them. And
Lucille knew it.
"Enough!" I grabbed my mother's suitcase and marched down
the hall. On my way to what used to be Nick's room, I grabbed a
set of fresh sheets, a blanket, and a pillow from the linen closet.
Behind me I heard Mama and Lucille continuing their political
knock-down, drag-out boxing match.
Forget detente. I needed an iron Curtain between their beds.
After dumping Mama's suitcase and the linens, I headed for the
kitchen. Yanking open the freezer door, I grabbed a bag of frozen
peas, a spoon, and the last carton of Ben and Jerry's I'd be able to
afford for Lord knew how many decades. After settling into bed, I
placed the bag of peas across my pounding forehead, closed my
eyes, and savored a large spoonful of Chunky Monkey.
Thirty minutes later I was basking on a deserted, sunny beach in
Maui. Sipping a frozen pina colada, I sank my toes into the warm sand and my mind into the latest of Janet Evanovich's Stephanie
Plum books.
As I inhaled the rich scent of orchids, the ground began to
rumble and shake. An angry Kilauea yanked me off the sand and
out of REM sleep.
I glanced at the illuminated digital display on my alarm clock.
With a groan, I rolled over to confront the volcano. "Mama, please,
I have to get up for work in a few hours. I can't have you sleeping
with me."
"I simply cannot share a room with that woman!" she said,
burrowing under the blankets beside me. In the process she appropriated more than her fair share of both the mattress and the
quilts.
"Do you know that woman snores like an elephant? And so does
that damn dog of hers. Except when he's growling at Catherine the
Great. I'm afraid he'll attack my poor precious if I doze off."
The aforementioned corpulent pussy jumped on the bed, settling her royal rump in my face. In less than three minutes both
Mama and Catherine the Great were snoring loud enough to rattle
the windows, and I was
had to figure out sleeping arrangements at Casa Pollack that night.
Nick had already doubled-up in Alex's room, sleeping on the trundle. That left the trundle under the twin in his room, where Lucille
now slept, and my master bedroom with its queen-size bed and
attached bathroom.
Call me selfish, but having already lost my husband and my financial security last week, I wasn't about to give up half my bed
this week. Not even to my mother.
I took a mental deep breath and laid out the sleeping arrangements. "Mama, I'm afraid you and Lucille will have to share a
room.
"Absolutely not," said Lucille. She grabbed her cane and
pounded it into the carpet. Mephisto yelped. "She can sleep with
you. My room is too small."
I refused to let my mother-in-law boss me around in my own
home. Comrade Lucille could share. Like a good communist. "No"
I turned to my mother, "Mama, I'm sorry."
Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened in horror. "Anastasia, you
can't-"
"I'm the one paying room and board," said Lucille, her voice
rising several octaves. "That entitles me to a room of my own."
"Paying?" Mama's brow wrinkled. "You mean she's not just visiting?"
"Unfortunately."
"That woman's living with you?" Mama's shrieked question did
wonders for the headache that had begun the moment I walked in
the house-ratcheting it up from a quartet of percussionists to the
entire New York Philharmonic pounding out the 1812 Overture. At glass-shattering decibels. I quickly explained about the fire. And
Lucille's life savings going up in flames.
Mama turned on Lucille. "Wake up and smell the twenty-first
century, you stupid old Bolshevik cow. The Depression ended over
sixty years ago. Ever hear of FDIC? Banks have been safe for decades."
Lucille pounced on Mama. "Capitalists like you caused the Depression. It happened once; it can happen again. FDIC or no
FDIC. Ever hear of Enron? Or Tyco? Or WorldCom?"
That was hitting below the belt. Mama had heard of all three.
She'd lost much of her retirement savings because of them. And
Lucille knew it.
"Enough!" I grabbed my mother's suitcase and marched down
the hall. On my way to what used to be Nick's room, I grabbed a
set of fresh sheets, a blanket, and a pillow from the linen closet.
Behind me I heard Mama and Lucille continuing their political
knock-down, drag-out boxing match.
Forget detente. I needed an iron Curtain between their beds.
After dumping Mama's suitcase and the linens, I headed for the
kitchen. Yanking open the freezer door, I grabbed a bag of frozen
peas, a spoon, and the last carton of Ben and Jerry's I'd be able to
afford for Lord knew how many decades. After settling into bed, I
placed the bag of peas across my pounding forehead, closed my
eyes, and savored a large spoonful of Chunky Monkey.
Thirty minutes later I was basking on a deserted, sunny beach in
Maui. Sipping a frozen pina colada, I sank my toes into the warm sand and my mind into the latest of Janet Evanovich's Stephanie
Plum books.
As I inhaled the rich scent of orchids, the ground began to
rumble and shake. An angry Kilauea yanked me off the sand and
out of REM sleep.
I glanced at the illuminated digital display on my alarm clock.
With a groan, I rolled over to confront the volcano. "Mama, please,
I have to get up for work in a few hours. I can't have you sleeping
with me."
"I simply cannot share a room with that woman!" she said,
burrowing under the blankets beside me. In the process she appropriated more than her fair share of both the mattress and the
quilts.
"Do you know that woman snores like an elephant? And so does
that damn dog of hers. Except when he's growling at Catherine the
Great. I'm afraid he'll attack my poor precious if I doze off."
The aforementioned corpulent pussy jumped on the bed, settling her royal rump in my face. In less than three minutes both
Mama and Catherine the Great were snoring loud enough to rattle
the windows, and I was
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