“She's a hunting dog, Candy, not a supermodel.”
“You need to give her a little style,” Candy said with a grin. “That's probably why she's been depressed.” Her old leather collar was faded and worn, and as they said it, the basset looked up and wagged her tail. “See, she knows what I mean. I have a fabulous woman who makes Zoe clothes in Paris. I'll measure Beulah before we leave and get her some stuff.”
“Now I'm getting depressed. You're corrupting our dog,” Chris said firmly. Beulah was the only thing that he and Sabrina officially shared. They had their own apartments, never commingled money, and were careful to keep things separate. As attorneys, they knew the mess it could make otherwise, if they ever broke up. But Beulah was the child they shared. Sabrina always laughed and said they'd need a joint custody agreement for her if they ever split up. Chris had a better idea and would have preferred getting married, if nothing else to protect the dog, he liked to tease her. But marriage just hadn't been in the cards for her so far, and wouldn't be for a while.
“Why not?” Tammy asked her the next day, as they were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. Everyone else had gone out. Their father and Chris were doing errands, and Candy was checking out a new gym nearby. She said she was falling apart not doing her Pilates for the last week, and she said she was gaining weight, which seemed like good news to all of them. She said her body was turning to mush, or it felt that way to her. Hard to believe at twenty-one.
“I don't know,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “I just can't see myself getting married. I hear such bad stories all day, about how people screw each other over, cheat, used to love each other and messed it all up when they got married. It doesn't make it very appealing, no matter how nice a guy Chris is. They all are in the beginning, and then everything gets fucked up.”
“Look at Mom and Dad,” Tammy pointed out. They were her role models for the perfect marriage. She still wanted one of those, if she ever found a man like their dad. The ones she met in L.A., particularly in show business, were all crazy, players, narcissists, or generally bad guys. She seemed to meet them all. She said she was a magnet for nuts and shits, mostly nuts.
“Yeah, look at Mom and Dad,” Sabrina said, looking glum. “They were perfect together. How could we ever find something like that? It only happens once. Mom used to say that too. She always said how lucky they were. I'm not sure I'd have the same luck, and if I didn't, I'd feel cheated, I don't want anything less. They set the bar pretty high.”
“I think Chris comes pretty close. You found a good one. That's not easy to do. Besides, Mom and Dad worked at it. It didn't just happen. They used to fight when we were kids.”
“Not often. And usually about something we did, that they didn't agree on. Like when I sneaked out at night during the week. Dad thought she should say something and let it go at that. Mom put me on restriction for three weeks. She was a lot tougher than he was.”
“Maybe that's why they got along. But I can't remember them ever having serious fights. Maybe once, when he got drunk on New Year's Eve. I don't think she talked to him for a week.” They both laughed at the memory. Even with a little too much to drink, he had been cute. Their mother had said he embarrassed her with their friends. Neither of them had been a heavy drinker, and none of their daughters was, although they drank more than their parents had. Candy partied harder than the others, but she was still young, and moved in a faster crowd, because of her work. None of the others was out of control, and Candy was still within the norm. They knew Annie smoked dope with her artist friends, but she was so serious about her work, she didn't like getting stoned often. She had done more of it when she was in college, but none of them had substance abuse problems, and neither had their parents. They were a pretty wholesome group. Chris drank more than Sabrina did, and liked his vodka when he went out, but he didn't do it to excess. He seemed like the perfect man to Tammy, particularly compared to the freaks she met.
“I think it will be really sad if you and Chris don't get married one day,” she commented as she put their cups in the dishwasher. “You're turning thirty-five in September. If you want kids, you shouldn't drag your ass forever. Besides, he may get tired of waiting. You don't even live together. I'm surprised he doesn't put the heat on you. He's not getting any younger either.”
“He's only thirty-six. And he does put the heat on me at times. I just tell him I'm not ready. I'm not. I don't know if I'll ever be. I like things the way they are now, and we spend the night together three or four times a week. I like having time off, to myself. I work a lot at night.”
“You're spoiled,” Tammy commented.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Sabrina admitted.
“Let me tell you, if I found a guy like him, I'd nail him to the floor. What if you lose him because you won't get married?” Tammy had wondered about that before. She thought Chris was incredibly patient with her sister, and she knew he wanted kids. Sabrina wasn't sure about that either. She didn't want to lose her children half time to joint custody if she ever got divorced. She had been deeply affected by her work, and the ugly problems she handled for her clients every day.
“I don't know. I guess I'll worry about that when it happens, if it ever does. For now, it works.”
Tammy shook her head in disgust. “Here I am, telling myself I'll go to a sperm bank when I'm your age, if I haven't found the right guy, which I probably won't, and you have the greatest guy on the planet, who wants to get married and have children, and you want to live alone and be single forever. Shit. Life just isn't fair.”
“No, it's not. And don't you dare go to a sperm bank yet, you twit. The right guy will come along.”
“Not in my business. And not in L.A. That's almost a sure thing. You don't know how crazy those guys are. I can't even be bothered dating anymore. If I hear one more bullshit story from some guy who just hasn't met the right woman in the twenty years he's been divorced, while he's cheating on me and dating twenty-year-old starlets, is a vegan, and has to have a high colonic twice a week to keep his head straight, whose politics are to the left of Lenin's, and by the way can I get him a major part in the show…I will throw up, and have. I'd rather TiVo my favorite shows and stay home with Juanita, checking scripts, after I leave the office at ten-thirty, which is what I do most of the time. It's just not worth putting on makeup and high heels for those guys. I really think I will wind up alone. It's better than what's out there.” At twenty-nine, she had almost given up. “I tried computer dating a couple of times last year. They were even worse. One guy took me to dinner, and didn't have enough money to add a tip, and he asked me if he could borrow gas money to get home. The other one admitted he'd been gay all his life, and made a bet with his boyfriend that he could date a woman, just once. I was it. I've had it with the Freaks of the World Club. I'm their oldest member, and I'm way in the lead for number of dates with hopeless geeks.” Sabrina had to laugh at what she said, but knew it was true, for Tammy anyway. She was in a tough spot to meet men. She was successful, powerful in her industry, in a world of narcissists and operators who all wanted something from her and gave nothing back. And yet she was beautiful, smart, successful, and young. It was hard to believe she couldn't meet a decent man, but she hadn't yet. She worked too hard, had almost no spare time, and didn't even try anymore. She spent weekends working, or at home with her dog. “Besides,” she added, “it would be too traumatic for Juanie if I got involved with a guy. She hates men.”