Faye Kellerman: The Garden Of Eden And Other Criminal Delights

“Yeah, just like I’ll understand the philosophy of Free Parking.”

My mom pauses for a moment. “Some people race through life, Christy. Some people stroll through it. Whatever suits you, suits me. Just remember, whether you walk or run, it doesn’t matter much. The finish line is still death.”

I frowned. “What a morbid thought.”

“Not if you have beautiful children like I do.”

I stare at her. “That isn’t a hint, is it?”

“A hint?”

“You guys kept saying that I should have a baby at twenty-one. They didn’t really mean that, did they?”

“Of course not,” she says. “They were just doing some idle talk.”

“A lot of idle talk.”

My mom kisses me. “Have a little patience, Christy.”

“You sound like Grandma.”

“I am her daughter. Maybe one day you’ll sound like me.”

A scary thought. I say nothing.

“After all, we are four generations of Hathaway women.” She smiles. “And maybe one day, when you’re willing… and the Higher Spirit is willing… it will be five generations.”

“But not at twenty-one,” I say.

“I agree,” Mom says. “No sense rushing things. Besides, it could all be for naught. You just might have a boy.”

with Rachel Kellerman and Ilana Kellerman

“The Luck of the Draw” is a sweet story that was commissioned for the anthology Mothers and Daughters, edited by Jill Morgan. It was cowritten with my daughters, Rachel and Ilana. I wanted this effort to be a true collaboration, not my interpretation of their ideas. To achieve that goal, I had the girls write from their point of view. Rachel and Ilana, now young women, were fifteen and eleven when we wrote this story, and as I reread their words, I find them a touching window into bygone days. What a cherished way to capture my daughters’ points of view as children.

Amanda’s Turn

I thought Jack was kidding when he told me the news. But when he pulled the kids out of school, I knew he was serious. He sat them both down to tell them the same thing he had told me. That he had won the lottery.

“Not the big, big money,” he explained. “Five out of six on the Scratchers.”

I was stunned. Jack hadn’t gone into the specifics. Our younger daughter, Beth, clapped her hands and paraded around the room. Our elder daughter, Toni, asked the obvious question.

“How much?”

Jack answered, “The amount isn’t important.”

We looked at him, dumbfounded.

“Well, put it this way. Not enough for me to quit the firm.” He added this with a wink. “But guess who’s going to get her own car on her sixteenth birthday?”

Toni leaped up and hugged him with all her strength. I was happy for her but angry with Jack. Money did not give him the right to make unilateral decisions.

“What about me?” Beth asked.

Jack broke from Toni’s grip. Again out came the wink. “Well, we might splurge on something special for you.”

“Like?”

I said, “No need to go into details right now.” I realized my voice was harsh and softened my tone. “1 need to talk to your father, girls. Right now and alone.”

After they had left, he was peeved. “Look, I realize I should have discussed it with you first. But did you have to cut me off in my moment of glory?”

I said, “How much?”

He was clearly irritated. “Two mil.”

I gasped. Then I did the mental math. Two million amortized over twenty years came out to about one hundred thousand a year. After deducting for taxes, we now had an additional seventy thousand dollars of disposable income.

Yes, we could easily afford a car for Toni. And a new stereo for Beth. And that small speedboat that Jack had been eyeing. And what about redoing the kitchen?

I broke out into laughter. I gave my husband a bear hug.

On weekends the mall was always crowded. But ritual was ritual, and every Saturday my mother, my daughters, and I trekked through the ganglia of stores and tried to bond. Sometimes these excursions were pleasant. Sometimes they were exhausting. Since winning the lottery, those days had become tedious.

Beth was nagging me. “Why can’t I have the dress? We can afford it.”

I counted to ten so I wouldn’t lose my temper.

That seemingly innocuous phrase.

We can afford it.

And then I launched into my standard explanation. “Just because we can afford something doesn’t mean I’m obligated to buy it.”

Beth was now sulking. My mother tried to comfort her, which made me angrier. I tried to contain my ire and be rational. “I bought you clothes a few weeks ago, Beth.”

“But they didn’t have the white dress in my size, Mom. You said you’d buy it for me.”

“I said you could wait and I’d buy it when it arrived in your size. Or, I said, you could have the plaid dress. You chose the plaid dress. End of story!”

Beth muttered to herself.

I tried to be motherly. “Honey, yesterday I saw a gorgeous suit. It was beautiful and it fit me perfectly. But I didn’t buy it. You know why?”

“Here comes the lecture,” Beth said. “Because it’s not healthy to have everything you want.”

Of course, that shut me up.

“Where’s Toni?” my mother asked.

“She went into her favorite store. She’s looking at some pants.”

“You bought Toni pants last week,” Beth said. “Why does she get pants this week and last week?”

“I bought her a pair of jeans. Today she’s looking at dress pants. Beth, it doesn’t matter what Toni has or what Toni does. We’re not dealing with Toni now, we’re dealing with you. You made your choice, and that’s it!”

“You’re not being-”

“I don’t want to hear this!”

With that, Beth stomped away.

“Where are you going?” I shouted at her.

“I’ll be at Body Beautiful… looking at stuff I can’t buy!”

At least she hadn’t added “because my mom isn’t fair.”

My mother tried to he helpful. “They’ll get over it. Things’ll be back to normal. Once they’ve… adjusted.”

I turned to my mother, smiling sadly. “Know what, Ma? Every day I thank God that we didn’t hit the big one.”

She laughed, then frowned. Instantly, I spotted the reason behind her wariness. Toni had returned, carrying three separate parcels. She gave me a cat-in-the-canary-cage smile.

Wryly, I said, “That must be one large pair of pants.”

She showed me what she had bought. I told her she’d have to return everything but the pants. She told me I didn’t understand. I said that might be, but she’d still have to take back her purchases.

And then the famous retort.

“We have the money, don’t we?”

At that point I gave my mother the car keys and elected to walk home.

Toni’s Turn

When I was called out of class that Thursday, 1 thought maybe someone had died. Why else would Mom let me miss school? She was uptight about those types of things. But nothing could have prepared me for the news to come.

“We won what ?” shrieked Beth, my younger sister.

“Whoa,” I muttered under my breath.

The lottery.

Of course, my parents wouldn’t tell us the specifics, like how much we had actually won. But I was promised a car, so I wasn’t about to stage a protest.

So we had finally come into some money. Not like we were hurting financially, but I knew the money would help us out. Mom was always nervous when it came to money, and I thought the extra cash might put her more at ease. And if she was more relaxed, she’d be more inclined to buy her lovely elder daughter more wonderful tokens of affection.