“Do we have another case of Dalmore, or should you run down to Sherry Lehmann?”
“I’m serious Jasmine,” he said. “Nothing is permanent. Tomorrow you could wake up and discover that everything you had was gone.”
All I can say is, thank goodness Lysette finally went ahead and had her baby. Maybe she’ll finally leave my future ex-husband alone and stop filling his head with arcane ideas. Ever since that horrible night in Queens, he’s unrecognizable – reading books and thinking and talking about the meaning of … oh Shit. I just remembered. We are out of Dalmore.
If you’re curious to know how it all worked out, Sabina is in stable condition but still in a coma ever since she collapsed at the engagement party Elvis and I threw her in July. Really, it’s just a matter of time before Daddy forgets she ever existed and moves on with his life.
All this means I’ll have time to focus on other things, like finally getting together with my badly-ageing literary agent Elaine Totsky. We’ve scheduled two meetings and I’ve missed both of them, but I don’t see how I can be expected to remember her existence at all, what with her refusal to see my plastic surgeon.
“I don’t think your father will forget Sabina,” my future ex-husband says. He’s reading over my shoulder, again. “Elvis is staying with him until she recovers.”
“You mean ‘If’…” I say, ever optimistic.
But I admit that this news comes as a bombshell. Elvis is living with Daddy. How can this be? I never got to live in the same house as Daddy. What’s that little twit have that I haven’t?
“A mother that your father loves,” my future ex-husband offers. He’s insufferable. What I really need to do is somehow get my father out of the country. Technically, I’m not supposed to leave the country, but I’m sure I could get around that with a little help.
Maybe I should plan a ski trip this winter. Those always seem to go so well for our family.