“PANTS ON FIRE!” I tossed in just before he got safely out of my sight.
People on the street looked at me like I was the crazy one. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to stand idly by anymore and let The Takers take over the world.
I’ve been told this is what’s called a New York City Moment. The equivalent of Dustin Hoffman slapping the hood of a taxi and yelling, “I’m walkin’ here! I’m walkin’ here!”
I’m aware that “Liar, liar, pants on fire” probably wasn’t very New York of me---but the same spirit was there. Don’t get in my way. Don’t mess with me. I’ve had enough.
I got home and turned on my computer, intent on finding a job. I was gung-ho. The roofers were still going full-blast, but I’d learned to tune to them out. While online, I noticed my mother had posted some photos on her social networking page. Old photos, to be exact. Every photo of my visits to Santa at Kendall’s Department Store---ages one thru ten.
My mood suddenly shifted.
From Vigilante Girl to Santa’s Girl.
Strangely, or not so strangely, every Santa looked completely different. Different suit, different beard, different face, different age and body weight. How could I have been so gullible?
“Well honey,” my Mom explained on the phone that afternoon. “You wanted to believe, I guess. Though by the time you were ten, we started to worry a little. Started thinking maybe we should have you tested or something. Then your Dad said, ‘Stop worrying. She’s just a dumb Pollack.’ And we laughed and laughed.”
I missed my family. Even their Dumb Pollack jokes.
“Remember how I always used to ask for a horse?” I laughed a bit.
“Oh your Dad and I felt so bad about that.”
“Why? It’s not like we had room for a horse in the backyard. Probably would have killed himself running into the swing set.”
“Oh I know,” she mused. “But when you were about to turn ten, I said, ‘Johnny, our only daughter wants a horse so bad and she’s such a good little girl. Why don’t we look into boarding one?’ So we left you at Grandma’s that weekend and went out to some stables and boarding facilities and we looked at a whole bunch of horses. The horse people were so nice and helpful. And then we saw this one horse. Oh honey!---he looked just like the one on that old TV show you used to watch on Saturday mornings.”
“Fury?”
“Yeah! That was the name. Well this horse had a different name I don’t remember, but looked exactly like him! And such a sweet horse. The owner’s daughter was about your age and she rode him around for us, so he was good with kids. We looked into everything and even got a vet to check him out to make sure he was healthy and well-taken care of. We were going out that next weekend to put the money down… But that week your father lost his job. The week before Christmas. His factory was being sued for having an unsafe workplace. People kept losing fingers and arms. It was terrible. He was a foreman so he didn’t use the machines, but they asked him to lie under oath in court. He just said that he wouldn’t do that. And I respected him for that. They didn’t fire him right away, they just waited a few weeks till the end of the year and then claimed they didn’t need him anymore. That was a rough Christmas. But having you as a sweet little girl sure did cheer us up.”
“I’m sorry I’m not coming home for Christmas, Mom,” I blubbered and sniffled into the phone. “I feel so bad…”
“Oh honey, it’s okay. I know you’ve been busy. We sure do like to see you, though.”
Suddenly there was a pounding on my door.
“Dorrie! Open up! It’s Alex!”
I quickly told Mom I’d call her back later and opened the door. Alex pushed his way past me with an armful of his belongings and began dropping them all over the apartment.
“Celia’s on her way over,” he explained. “We’ll only be here a few minutes. It’ll be a quick hello and goodbye and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Alex…no. I’m sick. I have a cold. And I’m tired of being caught in the middle…”
“You have a cold? Great,” he said as he pulled the blankets back from my bed. “Here,” he tossed my box of tissues across the room. “Get in bed and we’ll be out of here in two minutes.”
“What’s going on?” I muttered as he pushed me into the bed.
“We’re doing dinner, discussing the wedding plans, and I’ll even bring you back some chicken soup. Okay?”
“Stop it! No!” I finally stood my shaky ground. “I’m not going to lie for you anymore!”
“Don’t screw this up for me, Dorrie. I’m marrying Celia and I swear to you on my mother’s head that I’m breaking it off with Tanya. I just need to do it carefully because….well, she can be a raving bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
We turned around and saw Tanya in the doorway.
“You’re getting married?” she screamed. “You fucking asshole!” she said as she picked up Alex’s bottle of cheap cologne and smashed it to the ground.
The room reeked of patchouli and sandalwood as she ran out of the place screaming and ranting in Russian.
Alex just stood there with a dumb look on his face. “See,” he said, shaking in his khaki pants. “I broke it off.”
But as she slammed the door to her apartment downstairs, I saw him wince. Then we heard the window downstairs being thrust open.
“Shit,” he said as ran
