Why had I been foolish enough to believe that I could do the list? While I was at it, why didn’ t I try out for the Olympic figure-skating team? Or attempt to climb Mt. Everest in my flip-flops? Disappointing as it was, it was time to face the truth: Completing Marissa’ s list was beyond my grasp. I couldn’ t do the one task that really counted. I still hadn’ t even found Buddy Fitch. So I’ d gone without a bra for a day. Thrown away a scale. Big deal. I’ d thought I could step into another woman’ s dreams and somehow be infused with her lust for life. All that happened was that I’ d fallen short, as always.
The phone rang on and off all Saturday and into Sunday, and I let the machine pick up. I’ d call them back eventually. In the meantime, it was all I could stomach to hear messages from Susan and my mom and Susan again and Susan four more times, sounding grotesquely chipper and eager to talk to me so they could hear the good news.
ON MONDAY, I could tell word of what had happened had made its way through the office quickly, and at first people stopped by to offer their support. Upon seeing how badly I didn’ t want to talk about it, they rallied around by leaving me the hell alone. Now those are friends. Susan even called Sebastian for me and let him know he could call off any last-ditch efforts to find Buddy Fitch.
I threw myself into work, the easiest way to push out the thoughts churning in my head. And there was plenty to do. Even though Bigwood said I wasn’ t getting Lizbeth’ s old job, he certainly had been saving plenty of her aborted projects to dump on me. Still, even he must have sensed something was awry, because even though I’ d become the walking dead, he never once asked what was different about me.
As Troy had put it, time kept marching forward, no matter how much I wanted to curl into a ball and hide. I managed to keep myself more or less distracted all the way to the dreaded Tuesday evening when-with Marissa’ s birthday party due to start in a half hour-Susan and Brie came to find me in my cubicle.
‘ We’ re heading out now. You want to carpool with us?’ Brie asked.
‘ There are a few things I need to do first. I’ m taking the bus.’
Susan looked at me skeptically. ‘ You’ re not going to blow it off, are you? I’ m prepared to drag you to the party if need be. Those people are counting on you. Nobody’ s going to care that you didn’ t finish the list.’
‘ I promise, I’ ll be there. The 440 bus heads straight down Wilshire. It won’ t take me any time at all. In the meantime, you guys go represent.’
‘ Represent,’ Brie muttered. ‘ Will you people never quit stealing our slang?’
Turning to leave, Susan said, ‘ We’ ll save you a seat.’
‘ Near the back, please,’ I replied, my voice pleading.
I’ d go to the party all right, but I was aiming for fashionably late and as low-profile as possible. If I didn’ t have a chance to talk to anyone, maybe they’ d assume I’ d finished the list. The thought of lying also occurred to me-and if it hadn’ t been for a vague unease about being struck down by lightning, that’ s exactly what I would have done.
Besides, it wasn’ t over yet. Earlier in the day, I had remembered one of Martucci’ s ideas. He’ d said that if the adoption fell through, I could try to change people’ s lives by handing out lottery tickets. If one hit, then I’ d certainly changed a life.
It was pitiful, but I was going to do it anyway.
After I was sure the others had left, I snuck down to the liquor store and bought a hundred Lotto scratchers. One by one, I stopped people on the street and asked them to scratch off the ticket on the spot-and if you ever want to know about the lack of trust in our society these days, try offering something for free.
So I wouldn’ t be too late, I started handing out a few at a time. By seven o’ clock when the party was officially under way, I’ d had only two winners: ten dollars and sixty dollars. The ten-dollar winner said, ‘ Hey, thanks, this ought to be good for a couple packs of smokes,’ and the sixty-dollar winner was excited, but-as her engagement ring looked as if it had cost about sixty thousand-I doubted that it would be exactly life-changing.
Clutching the last ticket, I headed to my bus stop. There was a woman standing there in filthy clothes and missing several teeth-precisely what I’ d been hoping for. Even if she won a small amount, it could be enough to have an impact.
‘ Hi,’ I chirped. ‘ I’ ve got this lottery ticket to give you.’
She sneered at me. ‘ What for? Is this a trick?’
‘ No. Here-’ And I handed it over. She started to tuck it in her cleavage, and I said, ‘ Please scratch it off now. I need to see if it’ s a winner.’
‘ I ain’ t got a coin.’
I dug through my purse and handed her a nickel.
‘ Quarters work better,’ she said slyly.
I kept digging until I found a quarter, then held my breath as she scratched off the card.
Nothing.
Disappointment rose like bile. I must’ ve looked stricken, because she said, ‘ Girlie, it ain’ t no big deal.’
‘ I know. But if it’ d been a winner, maybe it would have made a difference in your life. I’ d like to have done that.’
‘ You want to make a difference in my life?’
‘ Desperately.’
She gave me a slow once-over. ‘ Them shoes of yours look comfy. Mine pinch my feet something awful. I’ ll bet anything if you gave me them shoes, that’ d make a big difference.’
My shoes? I was about to scoff when I thought, What the heck. I slipped off my shoes, a hundred-and-twenty-dollar pair I’ d recently splurged on at Macy’ s.
She took them, and without a thank-you or so much as a word otherwise, she left. I stood at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to arrive. Maybe tomorrow, after a night’ s sleep, I could come up with another way to change someone’ s life. I decided right there that I wasn’ t going to give the list back until it was done. I’ d go to the party and face everyone as a loser. But, hey, at least I’ d tried.
The thought of which left me utterly thunderstruck.
I’ d tried.
