Olivia Goldsmith - Marrying Mom

OLIVIA GOLDSMITH

MARRYING MOM

HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

This edition 1998

Special overseas edition 1997

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 1997

First published in the USA by HarperCollins Publishers 1997

Copyright © Olivia Goldsmith 1997.

Olivia Goldsmith asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Source ISBN: 9780006499886

Ebook Edition © MAY 2015 ISBN: 9780062424082

Version: 2015-10-28

Marrying Mom

‘What a great feeling to fall into the capable hands of Olivia Goldsmith. The author of The First Wives Club and Bestseller always serves up believable characters in slightly outlandish situations in a mixture that makes highly entertaining reading … The resulting romantic twists and turns are funny, but better still is Goldsmith’s sharp portrait of the maddening but lovable Phyllis … All pop novels ought to be as hard to put down as Marrying Mom. ’

People

‘ Witty … full of funny New York moments and read-for-the-big-screen charm … Perfect comic relief.’

New York Daily News

Bestseller

‘Extremely satisfying.’ The New York Times Book Review

‘Like Jane Austen dealing blackjack … you keep licking your fingers and reaching for the next page as if it were another potato chip.’

Newsweek

To Nan, with abiding affection.

We’ll always have Paris.

“Old age is woman’s hell.”

—Ninon de Lenclos

Paul Smith for putting up with an insane schedule, and for giving me the house of my dreams.

Jim and Christopher Robinson for their understanding and sacrifice on behalf of this book.

Linda Grady, as fine a reader as she is a friend and writer.

Barbara Turner for her love, humor, and for giving me this plot in the first place. (Don’t sue, sis.)

Paul Mahon because of all those trips to Montana, Ireland, Michigan, and the rest. Lucky I don’t depend on you.

Jerry Young for never putting me on hold. What are you wearing, Jerry?

Sherry Lansing for sharing my vision, telling me jokes, and turning this book into a film.

Aida Mora for keeping me supplied with endless Diet Cokes and making things homey.

Allen Kirstein for encouragement when I needed it the most.

John Yunis for tempting me to look better than I ever have.

Flex (a.k.a. Angelo) for the streaks and blow job.

Gail Parent, whom I can’t live without.

Chris Patusky, who tried to pick me up at a book signing. (Hope that trouble with the bar association clears up soon, Chris.)

Amy Bobrow for help with Wall Street lingo and with Matilda.

Harold Wise, the best, most caring internist in Manhattan. You were right about everything, Harold.

Diana Hellinger, the only girlfriend I have who will sing with me over the telephone.

Lorraine Kreahling for putting aside our project while this book consumed me; thanks for being my friend.

Amy Fine Collins for helping me with my ABCs. You know I’d always do it for you, girlfriend.

Mike Snyder for being one giant earlobe. You were so slow you hurt my whole family, but I love you.

John Botteri (a.k.a. Moe) for knowing exactly how many BTUs a girl writer needs.

Barry LaPoint for your artistic talent, integrity, and for knowing which of the hallway doors to change.

Laura Ziskin for kindly understanding and for giving this book up.

David Madden, even though you wouldn’t marry me.

Robert Cort for giving me the really key advice about Mom’s character. Wish this were an award, big guy.

Arlene Sorkin, girl screenwriter extraordinaire.

Andrew Fisher for his unmatchable expertise in dealing with the true professionals of the building trade.

Kelly Lange, because being Queen ain’t easy.

Anthea Disney, a real woman, a real CEO, and a real pal.

Ruth Nathan, my inspiration in so many ways.

Lynn Goldberg, because I still worship you, Lynn. And by the way, when are you going to put me up on your wall?

Dwight Currie, superb book reader, bookseller, book writer, and bookkeeper (except for that last one).

Michael Kohlmann, still “the nice one” and still my friend.

Steve Rubin and Ed Town of Gallery North Star, Grafton, Vermont, for keeping me well fed and well hung.

Edgar Fabro at Copy Quest, because no one can duplicate his amazing talents.

Jody Post, because I miss you and I missed you.

Norman Currie at the Bettmann Archives for his inspirational help in filling the album.

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise

Dedication

Epigraph

Thanks to

One

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Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Keep Reading

The Switch

About the Author

Other Books By

About the Publisher

Ira, I’m leaving you.” It wasn’t easy for Phyllis to give her husband of forty-seven years the news, but she was doing it. She had always told the truth. All her life people had called her “difficult” or “tough” or “insensitive,” but actually she was just honest.

“I can’t take it, Ira,” she told him. “You know I never liked Florida. I came down here for you, because you wanted to.” She paused. She didn’t want to blame. It was a free country and Ira hadn’t forced her. “Well, you’d always supported me,” Phyllis admitted. “Let’s face it: you earned the money, so I owed it to you. But it was your retirement, Ira, not mine. I wasn’t ready to retire. But did you give me a choice?” Ira said nothing. Of course, she didn’t expect him to. The fact was that in their forty-seven years of married life he’d rarely said much. Still, by some marital osmosis, she always knew what his position was on any given subject. Now she realized that the wave of disapproval that she expected to feel had not materialized. This meant that either Ira was sulking or that he wasn’t there at all. She paused. Even for her, considered a loud mouth by everyone all her life, even for her it was hard to say this. But it had to be said. “You didn’t pay enough attention to them, Ira. You needed me at the company, and I did what I had to do. But the children needed us. And I don’t think they got enough of us, Ira. Things have gone wrong for them. Sharon with Barney … Susan unmarried … and Bruce!” Phyllis paused and bit her lip. There were some things best left unsaid. “I don’t want to criticize you, but I don’t think you were there for them, Ira. You paid for the best schools, but they didn’t learn how to live. They don’t know what’s important. And I think they need their mother. I’m going up to take care of the children, Ira. I wasn’t a good enough mother to them then, but I can try and make up for it now.”