The Family Fortune by Laurie Horowitz Page B

” Teddy said. I think Teddy still thought in terms of vaudeville. He didn’t equate “show person” with someone like Joseph Goldman, who ran a multimillion-dollar company.
    â€œEmma looks like Lauren Bacall, and you really can’t do better than Lauren Bacall,” Miranda said.
    â€œAnd he had presence,” Teddy said. “He certainly wasn’t what you’d call attractive. He was far too short for that. But he had what it took to command a room.”
    â€œSo now it’s just the brass tacks,” Teddy said. His face was ruddy and he wouldn’t have liked it if he’d known. The drink in his hand was obviously not his first.
    Â 
    My father, Miranda, Astrid, and Dolores all left on the same day.
    Priscilla was furious that Miranda had chosen Dolores as a companion on this sojourn to Palm Beach. She thought Dolores was certainly not in the league of a Fortune, even a Fortune without money. Besides, she thought my claim on my family should be stronger than that of a stranger, and she was far more angry than I was to see me so easily discarded. True, I didn’t want to go, but they might have acted, just for a minute, as if I’d be missed. I realized that I had been under the misconception that I performed some important function in my family. But now it looked like my role could easily be assumed by just about anyone.
    A black Lincoln Town Car arrived to take Teddy, Miranda, and Dolores to the airport.
    â€œThat’s the very least we can do,” Miranda said. “We can march out of here with style.”
    â€œWell, goodbye, dear,” Teddy said. He kissed me on the cheek and checked his watch. “Where is Dolores? She’s late.”
    A taxi pulled up and Dolores toppled out. She was lugging an army surplus duffel over one shoulder. With the other hand she pulled a rolling suitcase. She also had a handbag and a carry-on piece. She juggled it all without much grace.
    â€œCome on, then,” Miranda called to her from the front steps. “We don’t want to miss our plane. We should have ordered a limousine. The Town Car is going to be tight with the three of us,” she complained.
    â€œI could keep the cab and meet you at the airport,” Dolores said. Miranda paused to consider this. She looked at Dolores and her haphazard luggage.
    â€œOf course not. We’ll all fit.” Teddy signaled the driver, who took Dolores’s bags and shifted them into the Lincoln, then came up the steps and gathered some of Miranda’s luggage.
    Miranda pecked me on both cheeks, European style, took her Louis Vuitton train case, and trotted out to the car. She was wearing high heels and a Chanel suit—no jeans and T-shirts for her. She would arrive in Florida with all the ostentation of a small-time celebrity.
    My father took several bags, and between him and the driver, they eventually filled the car. The trunk wouldn’t close, so instead of leaving the neighborhood with the desired aplomb, they looked slapdash and Beverly Hillbillyish. But it didn’t matter. There was no one but me and Astrid to watch them go.
    After they left, Astrid looked at me. There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling.
    She wrapped me in a strong hug. It made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to hugging people and I never knew what to do with my hands. I always ended up patting the other person on the back awkwardly.
    â€œYou’re the only one of them who is worth anything, Jane,” she said, “and don’t you ever forget it.” She handed me a piece of paper with her new address on it. “I want to know how you are, and if you ever need a place to stay, you can always come to me.”
    Ironically, in the end, it was our maid who thought to offer me a place to stay, but I was going to my sister Winnie’s for Thanksgiving. It was a command performance. Winnie’s life as a wife and mother wasn’t exactly what she had