The Family Man Part 28

"A let's-get-over-this letter. A love letter, essentially. Imagine what that's like: You get a phone call from your father hearing that your mother died, and the next day you get a letter from her begging for a truce."

Thalia says, "That's a Hallmark Hall of Fame first act. You made that up."

"Okay, maybe part of it. She wasn't on the way to the post office. But she was in a car accident, and when this friend came home from work there were two messages on her machine: one to call the hospital, and the other from her mother, calling from her car, like a minute before the accident."

Thalia says to Henry, "Note the use of 'my friend.' Very discreet. Must be an old girlfriend?"

"Irrelevant," says Philip.

"Too late. She's gone, headed toward the park."

"I didn't mean now, today. I only meant soon. Ask her to lunch."

Thalia asks Henry, "Would you like to step in and tell Philip what lunches with Denise are like? Or maybe you agree with him; maybe you know that mothers do die and it's better to patch things up while everyone's still alive. You can be honest. I won't feel ganged-up on."

Henry weighs his obligation to honest in front of Philip the stranger/arbitrator. Finally he says, "Speaking selfishly, I'd be nervous."

"Why?" asks Philip.

"I know why," says Thalia. "He doesn't have to explain."

"A bitter divorce that cost you your only child?" Philip supplies.

Thalia moves from Philip's side to slip her arm around Henry's waist. "Only for a few decades," she says.

Henry would prefer feeding only Thalia but has politely made omelets for her (cheese) and her guest (jelly). Upon receipt of his breakfast, Philip turns the plate forty-five degrees this way and that in artistic appreciation and says, "This could be in an advertis.e.m.e.nt for the egg council."

"It's really the single thing I cook well," Henry says.

"Are you joining us?" Thalia asks.

Henry says he had oatmeal an hour before. He'll just wash the omelet pan and get on with his day.

"What is your day?" Philip asks. "What keeps you busy?"

"He's retired while still youthful," says Thalia.

"You putter around? The workbench-in-the-bas.e.m.e.nt sort of thing?"

Henry says, "I do the legal equivalent of puttering around."

"And I'm the workbench," says Thalia. She asks Henry if he has any juice, but no, sit, she'll get it. "Philip?"

"What kind is it?" he asks.

"Orange," says Henry.

"He meant, 'Is it from concentrate?'" says Thalia. She slips off the stool, gets the juice, pours each a gla.s.s in what Henry sees is less than loving fashion.

Philip says, "I know you're the go-to guy for Thalia in terms of her contract with Dumont."

Henry, at the counter, studiously wraps up the cheese and washes the cheese grater.

"Henry?" Thalia tries. "Come sit down. I'll do that."

Philip says, "I think I know what your stepfather is thinking right now."

"Which is what?" asks Henry.

"If I were you I'd be thinking, 'Who is this guy? It seems like one minute ago he was a total stranger and hired hand, and now he's her confidant. What exactly is going on?'"

Henry doesn't like confidant and now, officially, doesn't like Philip. He will ask Thalia as soon as they are alone if this is typical Philip conversation and does she find it presumptuous. But for now, as ever, Henry remains the good host. He says, "Thalia from the beginning, from moving day, told me that you knew about the Leif arrangement."

"I understand celebrity," says Philip. "I see people in the club whom I'd characterize as near-desperate for attention, and I'm not just talking about attention from a guy or a girl. I mean they want their name in lights and their million hits on YouTube. They put up with all kinds of degrading treatment from bouncers and drunken playboys to be seen as someone who makes it past the velvet rope."

"Yet you choose to work in that environment?" asks Henry.

"My club isn't like those pseudo-exclusive places. We're relatively democratic. And you know what? In the end, that's what's really cool."

"We're all going down," says Thalia. "In the Twilight Zone version of us we'll end up in a world with no tabloids, no websites, no cameras, no clubs, no hooking up. We'll have to live quiet Amish lives in western Pennsylvania."

"If there was no hooking up, I believe we'd be Shakers," says Henry.

"You should come by some night," says Philip. "We take reservations and there's no bulls.h.i.t about 'Don't see your name on the list, dude. Sorry.'"

"I'm probably not right for your clientele. And vice versa. But thank you."

Thalia, sponge in hand, wipes down the island and says, "I think it's time we let Henry get back to his routine."

Philip asks Henry, "How well do you know this Leif character? I mean, has he sat around your kitchen and engaged you like this?"

"Not specifically the kitchen. But he's been here for a drink."

Thalia adds, "I brought him home to meet Henry before I signed up. And then he came by to apologize after he was arrested."

"I've rented some of his movies," says Philip. "They're not bad for the genre, but I don't see any irony in them-not dramatic irony, not situational irony. Nothing really clever there."

"I haven't watched them," says Henry.

"I haven't either," says Thalia. "And don't want to. I read reviews on Netflix so I'd sound like a student of auteur Dumont if the subject comes up."

Philip says, "I don't know how much Thalia's told you about my views on this mock romance-"

"Nothing at all," says Henry.

"This might surprise you, given my own investment, but I think she has to stick with it."

Henry manages to repeat, "Given your own investment?"

"Emotional investment," Philip says. "I thought that was obvious."

Henry says, "This is the first conversation we've had since your moving truck pulled away. That makes it hard for an outsider to gauge your emotional investment."

This would be the time and place for Thalia to back Philip's claim or to deny it, but she says only, "Tell Henry why you think I have to stick with it."

"My major was Ethics, Society, and Law," says Philip. "I think she made a commitment-not just by signing a legal doc.u.ment, but by offering Leif something deeper."

"Oh, really?" says Henry.

"Friendship."

"The old-fashioned kind," adds Thalia.

"So your advice is that Thalia, at odds with what the contract asks for-essentially to fake a romance and an engagement-should stick it out despite the early humiliations, so Leif Dumont learns lessons about friendship?"

Philip says, "Thalia likes to act. In the role of Leif's friend, she is forced to be her true self."

Her true self! Henry prays that he can quote every word, every presumption, for later reporting to Todd. He glances at Thalia, hoping for a sign, for her signature wide-eyed comic double take. This isn't what he sees. Instead there is a look he's observed only during mother-daughter hostilities. It marks, he believes, the end of Philip.

30. I Get It Now.

WHAT FINAL LEAP through what hoop must Thalia take to establish herself as attention-grabbing arm candy? Neither she nor her counsel is invited to the meeting at Estime where publicist Wendy Morelli and the West Coast bra.s.s on speakerphone contrive this: that Thalia will finally make some noise. She will publicly and loudly accuse a pretty girl-carefully screened, rehea.r.s.ed, and paid-of blatantly flirting with Leif at the Box (strings pulled to secure admission). A fight will ensue. Slaps instigated by a jealous Thalia will be exchanged and Cosmopolitans pitched. Leif will break it up manfully, and Thalia will storm out. He will stay and try his thespian best to flirt with the interloper but after one round of drinks will tip the bartender a C-note and next be seen in the back seat of a limo kissing Thalia. Columnists will write about the catfight because Estime will promise serious gossip about celebrity clients whom the news outlets are actually interested in. Next day, the bribable paparazzi will cover a shopping trip to Tiffany & Co.

Wendy Morelli herself delivers the top-secret plan via e-mail. Thalia forwards the e-mail to Henry; a minute later, before he's responded to or even read it, she is knocking urgently on his bedroom door.

"You won't believe it! Are you decent?" she yells. "I e-mailed you. I printed it out. Are you alone?"

"Todd is here," Henry says. "What's wrong?"

"Are you both decent, then?"

"For G.o.d's sake, come in," Todd yells.

She half opens the door and peeks around. They are in bed, a sheet pulled up to their armpits. "Oh, big deal," she says.

Barefoot, she is wearing a Hunter College sweatshirt over pajama bottoms. "It's over," she says. "I'm free. Those a.s.sholes!" She brandishes the printout, belly-flops onto a free end of the bed, and reads the plan aloud, voice dripping with disdain.

"Astonishing," says Henry.

"No, it's not," says Todd. "It's the culture as we know it."

"First of all, an e-mail! Wouldn't you think I'd be the first person in on a meeting where it's decided I'm going to start a brawl?"

"With counsel," adds Henry.

"Like I'd do this? Like you can control a situation like this? Is anyone going to guarantee that I won't get jumped or pinned-"

"Or Tasered," says Todd.

Henry says, "I don't want to say I told you so, but this arrangement was never meant to be enjoyed or even endorsed. You signed on for an acting job. And now they're staging the finale."

"I thought you'd be wild," says Thalia. "I thought you'd want to get a restraining order!"

Henry laughs. "On what grounds?"

Thalia sputters, "For-I don't know-battery! Ludicrousness!"

"Has Leif weighed in on this?" Todd asks.

"I haven't heard from him, but you know Leif: He does what he's told."

Todd points out that Leif's role is hardly unattractive: two girls fighting over him. In his wildest dreams!

"Neither of you are as offended as I expected," says Thalia.

"We don't have to be offended if you're walking away," says Henry.

Thalia is staring at the e-mail. A different message seems to be appearing between the lines. She looks up. "I get it now," she says.

"What's to get?" says Todd. "It's all there, step by idiotic step."

"It's a fake plan! There's no cc to the lawyer or to Henry or to Leif. This is a trick. They came up with the most ridiculous idea anyone could think of so I'd walk."

Todd says, "I'm not so sure it's a fake. I think this is business as usual for a n.o.body trying to be a somebody."

"What's that look on your face?" Henry asks Thalia.

She sits up, points to her own cheekbone. "This look? As in, Your mission, should you choose to accept it...?"

"Uh-oh," says Todd.

Thalia writes back to Estime and cc's Henry, "Sounds fine. What would you like me to wear? And do you need to measure my finger for the engagement ring?" An e-mail silence follows. "They're stumped," Thalia tells Henry. "I wasn't supposed to cooperate."

"Coffee?" he asks. "Come up. I bought Sumatra yesterday."

They take their mugs to the library and sink in unison into the leather couch, feet on the coffee table. "Have you talked to Leif since the plan was hatched?" Henry asks.

She picks up her cell, waves it as if it's a product to be pitched on the Home Shopping Network. "Listen carefully and observe. I am going to call him now and tell him I am looking forward to our performance at the Box."

"Smoke him out, you mean?"

"Correct."