Jill Smolinski - The Next Thing on My List

It was karaoke night, so once again the place was hopping. And for the record, there wasn’ t enough tequila in my drink, and perhaps in the world, to make me sing karaoke. I gave a prayer of thanks to Marissa on a daily basis that she hadn’ t put that on her list. Nonetheless, the singing served as a lively backdrop, and who doesn’ t enjoy hearing ‘ I Will Survive’ being bludgeoned by two drunk Japanese ladies?

The four of us sat at a corner table, shoveling chips into our mouths and poring over the list. I clarify: not the list itself. To avoid the risk that drinks might get spilled on the original list, I’ d written the remaining tasks on a separate piece of paper. Marissa’ s list had become like the Declaration of Independence-a priceless document to be protected in a glass box (or in this case, my wallet) until such time as it was ready to be presented and toured about to the masses.

‘ We know what you’ re going to do to change someone’ s life.’ Martucci beamed, riding high on the fact that he was the first to know about the adoption.

‘ I can’ t believe you’ re gonna have a kid,’ Brie added.

Susan’ s fingers tapped on the list. ‘ Although a backup plan might be a good idea& in case the adoption doesn’ t go through.’

‘ It’ ll go through,’ I said with more confidence than I felt.

Two weeks ago, after my revelation to Martucci, I’ d hired a lawyer. There were so many factors to work out that I hadn’ t thought about, such as paying for hospital extras, the birth father’ s rights, and so on. But so far, so good. Deedee started crying when I told her I was going to adopt the baby-that was, after having Kip call her mother to make sure Maria was okay with the plan. On the couple of visits I’ d had with Deedee since then, she’ d chattered endlessly about how it was going to be so cool when she and I were both big sisters.

Although the adoption smacked strangely of a business deal at this point, I knew it would feel real the moment I held the baby in my arms. Still, I was trying to stay on the down low in case everything fell through. I hadn’ t even mentioned it to my parents. It was hard enough to keep my own emotions from spiraling out of control-it’ d be cruel to tell them they were going to be grandparents only to snatch it away.

Of the handful of people I’ d told so far, the only negative reaction was from Susan, which didn’ t surprise me. She kept asking, ‘ But why?’ so many times that I started to wonder if I were actually talking to her five-year-old sons. About the hundredth time she’ d said, ‘ I never got the feeling that a baby was that important to you,’ I’ d turned to her and snapped, ‘ That’ s because it never felt possible before. I also don’ t walk around talking about how I want to sleep with Orlando Bloom, but believe me: The day he shows up wearing nothing but a towel and asking me if I’ ll rub lotion on his back, the answer, for the record, is, Hell, yes.’

‘ A backup plan’ s not a bad idea,’ Martucci said, shaking me from my thoughts. ‘ In case you fail at changing this girl’ s life. What else could you do?’

We sat silent. A beefy guy in a cowboy hat sang that country song about living like you were dying. A good choice since he was in fact dying onstage.

‘ Money,’ Brie said. ‘ I always say, ‘ Money changes everything.’ ‘

‘ Cyndi Lauper said it first,’ I joked, only to meet a table of blank stares. ‘ It was a song! Don’ t make me go get that karaoke list and prove it!’

Martucci smacked the table excitedly. ‘ Lottery tickets! You buy a hundred lottery tickets and hand them out to people you know. One of them hits, and boom, you’ ve changed that person’ s life.’

‘ Ooh, that’ s a good one,’ Brie said, and then turned to me. ‘ I got Lotto numbers I play, so ask me before you buy mine. I always play my age, my birthday, the number of guys I’ ve had sex with-’

‘ Lotto numbers only go up to forty-six,’ Martucci said, and chortled.

‘ I know. That’ s why I got to split it up.’

‘ It’ s settled, then. Even though I’ m certain that the adoption will work out’ -here I narrowed my eyes at Susan as if daring her to challenge me-’ the Lotto is the backup plan. So that’ s one down, six to go. Moving things along& ‘

‘ What’ s your rush? You may as well enjoy your nights out while you can,’ Susan purred. ‘ It’ s the last you’ ll have of them for a long while. That’ s how it is when you have kids.’

I scowled at her. ‘ You’ re out. You have kids.’

‘ They’ re home with my husband. Do you have one of those?’

Ouch.

My expression must have shown the sting because she said, ‘ I’ m sorry. That was out of line. I’ m worried about you, that’ s all. Being a single mother isn’ t easy-believe me, I know plenty of them. But I’ ll play nice. I promise.’

‘ All’ s forgiven,’ I replied, and I meant it. For every bit of haranguing Susan was giving me, I knew she’ d also be the first to help me when the time came. Lord knew I’ d need plenty of baby-sitting.

‘ Next: Run a 5K,’ Martucci read from the list. ‘ That will be handled this weekend, you stud muffin.’

‘ Martucci’ s running with me,’ I told Brie and Susan. ‘ Anyone is welcome to join us. Brie& you run?’

‘ Depends.’ She shoved a chip in her mouth. ‘ Somebody chasing me?’

‘ I’ ll take that as a no.’

Susan promised to bring Chase and the boys to cheer for me, and then it was on to one of the more troublesome on the list: #7, Make Buddy Fitch pay.

I reported to them how Sebastian had recently called me with an update. His private investigator had searched the United States and found three guys named Buddy Fitch. There was a sixty-eight-year-old retiree in Florida, a thirty-seven-year-old autoworker in Michigan, and a forty-four-year-old in Texas, currently unemployed. That was it. Sebastian explained that it had been particularly challenging, with Buddy being a common nickname. For all we know, he’ d said, Buddy could’ ve been a special name between him and Marissa. It might be a dead end. Crossing my fingers for luck, I’ d called the Buddys. I’ d told each one that I believed he knew a Marissa Jones and that he might want to know she’ d passed away recently. And I’ d turned up nothing.

‘ They claimed they’ d never heard of her,’ I moped.

‘ You should’ ve said she left them something in her will,’ Brie said. ‘ I bet that’ d jog their memories.’

My heart sank. ‘ That would have been perfect! Like those police stings where they bring in a bunch of criminals and tell them they’ ve won a prize. I blew it! Now I’ m no further than when I started.’

‘ Not necessarily,’ Martucci said. ‘ The list says, Make Buddy Fitch pay. It doesn’ t say which Buddy Fitch. So choose one of them and do something vengeful. I vote for the autoworker. Can’ t pick on a retiree or some guy out of a job. That’ d be low.’

Susan was appalled. ‘ And arbitrarily playing a trick on someone because he happens to have the right name isn’ t?’

‘ Susan’ s right,’ I said reluctantly.

‘ It doesn’ t have to be real mean,’ Brie suggested. ‘ You could do something a little mean. Like short-sheet his bed.’

‘ Right. I’ m going to fly to Michigan to short-sheet a guy’ s bed.’

She shrugged. ‘ All I know is that I’ d hate it. Gotta stretch my legs at night. Otherwise they cramp up.’

‘ We’ ll back-burner this one, I guess.’ I sighed. ‘ Sebastian told me his PIs would keep working on it. Plus I contacted Troy Jones to see if he’ d ask around one more time. Somebody Marissa knew must be able to tell us who this guy is. Which now brings us to number fifteen on the list. I have to take Mom and Grandma to see Wayne Newton in Las Vegas.’