Jackpot! Read online

  Danny had no interest in hearing about my parents past, not because he didn’t feel love for his father, and not because he didn’t miss him. I suspected it was just too painful for him to hear such good things about someone he never really knew.

  “Danny feels like he was robbed when I talk about the good times I had with Dad,” Ma would tell me, “and that’s okay. He was.”

  I, on the other hand, could tell someone the life story of Seth Jacobson. Furthermore, I knew everything about Frankie Jacobson. At least I thought I did. Now, because of how she’d been acting since she won the lotto, distant and vague, I wasn’t sure.

  The instant Ma opened the door, I felt the same weirdness I’d been feeling the past few days. Frankie hugged me hello, but she had this formality about her that I’d never seen before.

  “Come in,” she said.

  No words were exchanged as I walked behind her into the living area of the condo. The silence was awkward. Then, when I saw Danny and Frankie’s lawyer, Alan, sitting at the dining room table I began to see things more clearly.

  “Have a seat please,” Frankie said to me in a tone similar to that of a receptionist in a doctor’s office.

  “Hi,” said Danny, who seemed puzzled.

  I waved to my brother. “What’s going on, Ma?” I asked softly, as I sat down.

  “You know Alan, don’t you?” she asked me.

  “Yes.” I gave him a polite smile.

  “Hi, Jamie,” said Alan.

  Ma sat down at the table. “Alan, shall we begin?” she asked.

  “Certainly, Mrs. Jacobson.”

  He started shuffling some papers. I looked at Danny and mouthed, “What’s going on?”

  Danny just shrugged. Then he turned to our mother.

  “Ma, do you mind if I get a beer?”

  Frankie was about to reply, but Alan beat her to it.

  “Your mother would prefer if you gave up alcoholic beverages,” he said.

  Frankie added, “Except wine at Rosh Hashanah.”

  Danny stood up and got in Alan’s face. “Hey dude, if my mother has issues with me, I think she can tell me herself.”

  “Sit down, Danny,” Ma snapped.

  Danny froze.

  “Actually,” she continued, “Alan will be speaking on my behalf for the remainder of the evening.”

  Danny seemed confused. He sat back down.

  “Alan, please begin,” said Frankie.

  “Sure,” he said, “As you probably heard at the press conference, your mother stated she will be giving her Illinois Lottery winnings to her grandchildren.”

  “Yeah, Ma, I don’t get it,” said Danny.

  “Shhh. Just listen,” Ma scolded, “Please continue, Alan.”

  Alan proceeded to pull out two copies of a lengthy legal document. He handed one to me and one to my brother.

  “This document, signed by your mother, states that if either of you produce a child, you will receive a sum of eight million dollars.”

  I glared at the document for a few moments without even reading it. Then I stood up and exploded. “Are you crazy?”

  “Nope,” she answered flatly.

  “Let me get this straight,” said Danny, “You want us to have babies, and you’re willing to pay us for that?”

  “Yup,” said Frankie.

  “Why?” I shouted.

  “Because all I want before I die…”

  Danny interrupted, “Is to make us as miserable as humanly possible.”

  Frankie ignored him.

  “So what are we supposed to do?” I asked, “Get married? Neither of us are even dating anyone!”

  “The document doesn’t state anything about marriage,” Alan said, “just children.”

  Now I was fuming. “So, what? If we ever get around to having kids, like years from now, we become wealthy?”

  “That’s not it at all,” Ma said, “Alan, tell them the interesting part.”

  As Alan nervously shuffled through some papers, something made me peruse the document. And just as I heard Alan clear his throat to speak, a certain paragraph on the page caught my eye.

  “Oh my God!” I gasped.

  Then Danny saw it too. “Oh shit!” he screamed.

  Both of us looked at our mother, who was smiling.

  “It says here we have one year to produce a baby!” exclaimed Danny.

  “That’s correct,” answered Alan, “One year from today, if either of you have a child, either through a pregnancy or adoption, you will receive your inheritance.”

  I giggled bitterly, reading the document further, “It says here that the child will be tested through DNA.”

  “Yes,” added Alan, “and if you adopt, we’ll need to see the adoption agreement.”

  “So you basically want me to either start the adoption process, which I think we all know takes more than a year, or go out, find some guy, and get myself pregnant in the next three months?”

  “Gives new meaning to the phrase the clock is ticking, doesn’t it?” joked Danny.

  I shot him a look. “Do you think this is funny?”

  “No!” he defended, “I’m in shock!”

  I turned to Frankie. “What about diseases?” I asked, “What about AIDS? Aren’t you worried about that?”

  “You’re both intelligent, educated people. I’m sure you’ll take all the necessary precautions to make sure your potential partners are disease free.”

  “Ma, you sound like one of those people who work at the department of motor vehicles, explaining the procedure on how to get a driver’s license,” said Danny.

  “What have you turned into?” I shouted.

  “I’ve waited long enough for you two to grow up,” Ma responded, “Both of you are selfish, materialistic people. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do. But it’s time for you to realize what’s important in life. Think of it this way. I’m giving you the incentive you need to settle down.”

  “You can’t buy us,” I said.

  “I’m not trying to buy you,” Ma replied bitterly, “I’m trying to buy babies. And guess what? Knowing you two, I think it will work.”

  I sat there frozen and watched my mother stand up and head for her bedroom. She turned to us and said, “Look, I don’t want to get into a big discussion about this. My mind’s made up. This is what I want. I love you both. Very much.” Then she looked at Alan. “Please answer any additional questions my children might have. I’m going to bed.” Then she was gone.

  The three of us sat in silence for a few moments. Alan looked so nervous. I had a brief thought that maybe he was afraid Danny might start beating him up or something, but all Danny was doing was paging through our mother’s ridiculous document. Not knowing what else to do, I did the same.

  I couldn’t believe what was happening. Adoption seemed impossible at this point. So who did Frankie think was going to father my child? Was she so desperate that she was willing to have her daughter go out and whore herself around in hopes of getting pregnant? This woman, who I’d been so close to my whole life was now a complete stranger. I truly believed my mother had completely lost her mind.

  “What are you going to do?” Danny asked me, “Get back together with Max?”

  “I guess I have to consider it.” It was repulsive to think about, but I had to admit it was a valid option at this point. Eight million dollars seemed like a reward that may be too good to pass up. With that money, I could make my own movie and not have to deal with the agents and producers who kept rejecting me. I wouldn’t need them anymore.

  But I’d have to be married to Max and have a baby. But so what? I’d be independently wealthy. I could eventually get divorced, be professionally successful, and get lots of help with the baby from my crazy, nutty mother, who I was trying so hard not to despise at this moment.

  “How about you?” I asked Danny, “Any ideas?”

  “Yup,” he replied.

  “Tell me.”

  He took a deep breath and gr
inned, seeming almost triumphant. “I know someone who will have my baby in a second.”

  Chapter 8

  My heart was racing while I knocked on Jennifer’s door and waited for her to answer. I was scared as hell that the girl of my dreams, who lived just down the hall might walk out of her apartment and see the guy she kissed a few nights earlier standing at his ex-girlfriend’s door.

  What was I thinking taking this risk? I wondered. I was really pissed at my mother right now. But I was more pissed at myself. My night with Courtney had been unbelievable and I’d barely been able to get her off my mind. But now, here I was at Jennifer’s place, selling out to psychotic Frankie, by agreeing to have a baby with someone I didn’t love. My rationale was, in nine months I’d be a multi-millionaire.

  I wondered when I’d become so money conscious. Years ago, I wouldn’t have cared about getting my hands on Frankie’s millions. If I was a person who wanted wealth, I wouldn’t have majored in education. I’d have become a doctor, or a financial planner, or a consultant of some kind. But I didn’t. I became a history teacher and I’d always been satisfied with it, one because I felt like I was making a difference in kids’ lives, but also because I was having fun acting on the side, and I always believed that eventually I’d get my break and the wealth might come anyhow. But nothing was really progressing in my acting career and now, getting older, I realized I wanted things. I wanted to take fun trips and go to nice restaurants, and was it so bad for me at thirty-four years old to actually want to own a condo or a house? I realized right then that I’d changed over the years, and although it wasn’t making me very proud of myself, I couldn’t deny it.

  I thought about asking Courtney to have my baby, but I didn’t for two reasons. One, what if she had a really harsh reaction to the idea and decided she wanted nothing to do with me because my character had offended her so much? She seemed like a pretty moralistic person. Secondly, even though I’d spent only a few hours with the girl, my gut instinct told me there could be a future for us and I didn’t want to taint or spoil it by putting her under pressure to have my child. I wanted things to progress naturally with us. Of course, if she found out Jennifer was having my baby, did I really think she’d want anything to do with me? Still, with eight million dollars at stake, it was a risk I was willing to take.

  I heard a door slam and my heart stopped. I looked down the hallway and prayed it wasn’t Courtney. Lucky for me, it was one of Jennifer’s other neighbors. The guy gave me a nod as he passed by, and then pressed the elevator button and stood there. I knocked again, wondering what was taking her so long. A couple seconds later, Jennifer opened her door.

  “Hi,” she said with a wide, welcoming smile.

  “Hi.” I tried to sound enthusiastic about seeing her, but in reality, all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to have sex with her. The only girl I wanted to be with, both physically and emotionally, lived literally 25 feet away from where I was standing, and was hopefully not home at this moment.

  “Come in,” said Jennifer, leading me into the apartment I’d been in at least a dozen times, the same apartment that now felt like a prison cell for me. “Sit down. Want a beer?”

  “I’m good,” I replied.

  “You seem nervous.”

  “Well, the thing is…”

  Jennifer sat down beside me and put her hand on my knee. “Tell me why you’re here, Danny. Why’d you call and ask to come over?”

  I looked right into her eyes. They seemed to be begging for me to say what I’d come here to say. I could tell her I wanted her to have my baby and we’d probably be in her bedroom with our clothes off within thirty seconds. I’d have sex with her for a few weeks, hopefully get her pregnant, and collect millions of dollars. It seemed simple, effortless, too easy, almost.

  “Danny, talk to me,” she said, “I miss you. I miss being with you,” she began to seduce.

  I opened my mouth and was about to deliver the news that would make this woman the happiest person on earth. The words “let’s have a baby” were inside me. Actually, they were sitting there in my throat, waiting for my mouth to speak them. But I couldn’t get them to come out.

  “What?” she said with a soft giggle, “just tell me.”

  “I think…”

  “Yeah?” She looked like the anticipation was going to kill her.

  “I think…”

  She was smiling from ear to ear, and I now found myself looking not at Jennifer’s happy, hopeful face. All I could see was Courtney’s face, the face that made me want to be the best guy in the world.

  “I think I should go.” Then I stood up. Jennifer turned white and the look on her face instantly went from hopeful to appalled.

  “Why?” she managed, tears already forming in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Jen. I came here to…well…forget it. I was thinking…”

  “Thinking you want me to have a baby?” she said, standing up and taking my face in her hands.

  “I thought I could do it, but I just can’t,” I said sadly. I took her hands away and kissed them. Then I walked to the door, and just before I left I turned around and said, “I hope things work out for you. I really do.”

  It made me physically sick to see her standing there crying when I left, but the relief I felt was almost overwhelming. I looked down the hall toward Courtney’s apartment and I knew I did the right thing.

  Chapter 9

  As I walked down Wells Street in my Nine West sandals (since my Jimmy Choos were no longer wearable), I passed all the trendy restaurants I’d eaten at over the years. I’d had so many good times on this street with girlfriends, dates, my ex-husband, John, and even Max. But tonight wasn’t about a good time. Tonight was a job. My task of the evening; meet Max for dinner at Topo Gigio and get back together. Not because I loved him and realized I made a huge mistake breaking up with him, but for a reason that was unimaginably unethical; collect my insane mother’s money. The anxiety I was feeling at this moment was ten times worse than it was the night I was headed to Morton’s to get engaged.

  Walking briskly and with determination, I suddenly bumped into something that caused pain so sharp, I could barely catch my breath.

  “Are you okay?” I heard a woman shout.

  When I turned to look at her, I realized I knew her. She was Jill Goldfarb, one of Ma’s friend’s daughters, and I had just slammed into her baby stroller.

  “Jill…hi!” I exclaimed in the sweetest voice I could manage, given the fact that my thigh was now throbbing. I wanted to ask her why the hell she would park her stroller in the middle of the sidewalk, but I didn’t want to be rude.

  “Are you okay? I’m so sorry!”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine,” I said, trying not to think about the big bruise I knew I’d have in the morning.

  “So, how are you?” asked Jill in the same tone someone would use on a person who just found out she had six months to live.

  What I felt like answering was “Yes, I’m still single and I actually don’t want to commit suicide.” Instead, I went with, “I’m good, you?”

  “Great!” she responded, before adding in a condescending tone, “Glad to hear you’re well.”

  “How’s your baby?” I asked, wondering why its stroller was here, injuring me, and why the baby wasn’t in it. I got my answer an instant later when I heard the loudest, most piercing cry I’d heard in years. Up walked Jill’s husband, holding their one year-old little girl. The two had just come out of Lori’s Shoes (which has a bathroom and a changing table in it).

  “She had a big poopie,” shouted Jill’s husband. He actually had to yell, so we could hear him over the screaming kid.

  “Emma missed her nap today,” yelled Jill, “she’s a little cranky.” She took Emma from her husband. “Don’t cry, sweetie,” she said in a high squeaky baby voice. Emma continued to wail.

  I managed to fake sympathy, replying, “Aww…”

  Then the most unbelievable thing happened. A
s Jill tried to comfort her, Emma punched her mother in the face. Jill gasped and Emma kept screaming. The husband just stood there, not knowing what to do.

  Revenge can be so gratifying, I thought. “Well, it was nice seeing you guys,” I shouted enthusiastically, “Nice meeting you, Emma!” Then, with a wave and a smile, I was off.

  I practically ran down the block, the entire way wondering how the hell, after experiencing Emma, I could be doing what I was about to do. I was on my way to meet Max, get back together with him, and then get married and pregnant a.s.a.p. Was I going to have an Emma soon? The thought of that was making me crave a Xanax in a huge way.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like kids. Even with what Emma had just done I thought she was cute. It was just that I was afraid of them. Having a child seemed like being out of control of a lot of things; something I wasn’t very good at. And let’s not forget the drilling in my head by my ex that I wasn’t meant to be a mom. “I was too selfish. I liked my freedom, my independence.” Looking back, I realized he was talking about himself. He was selfish. He liked his freedom, his independence. He also liked to sleep with other women (which I didn’t know at the time) so that gave him little time for kids. And even though I realized the damage he’d done to my mental state, it was hard to recondition myself that maybe I could be a good mother.

  When I reached the entrance of Topo Gigio, I pulled out my Bobbi Brown Truffle lipstick and reapplied. I realized I was sweating, combination nerves and Emma. Once inside, the smell of good old fashioned Italian cooking should have been appealing to me. Instead, I felt nauseous. I looked around the room and saw Max, already seated and drinking a glass of wine. He waved me over. It was funny. This was sort of déjà-vu of the Morton’s night, only for some reason, Max didn’t look nervous. He appeared relaxed.

  I took a deep breath and approached his table. This was going to be torturous. I was going to have to apologize, stroke Max’s ego and perhaps even grovel to get him back. Not that I thought it would be difficult. I was sure he’d get back together with me. Nonetheless, I would have to falsely admit I made a mistake and then tell Max I loved him, which was also untrue.