Feilcity's Annual Fall Meltdown

Welcome back. Hope you enjoy this latest installment!

My first column for the Times was a success. I got some nice letters to the editor. Of course, not everyone liked it (some thought I was too flippant about the somber subject of funerals), but overall, I was pleased, the editor was pleased, and I received a request for more pieces. In the meantime, I was busy as ever, and I continued my weekly appointments with Lila. I still wondered why we met so frequently, but contented myself with the thought that Lila enjoyed the company. Since I did too, I had no desire to end our weekly meetings.

In fact, the day the column ran, I was at Lila’s penthouse, for the first time since the Labor Day weekend. She had returned from the Hamptons only days before, and was eager to resume our meetings. We were going over the menu for her funeral brunch, and I had just finished reviewing the appetizer list, when my cellphone rang. I didn’t recognize the phone number. It was a Los Angeles area code, but it wasn’t Felicity, so I ignored it, assuming whoever it was would leave a message. But the phone kept ringing, and eventually Lila turned from her perusal of the list of main courses.

“Aren’t you going to answer that, Francie?” she asked.

“No, it’s fine. They can leave a message,” I said.

“They don’t seem inclined to leave a message,” Lila pointed out. “Go ahead, answer it. I don’t mind.”

I shrugged and picked up the phone. To my surprise, it was Felicity’s roommate, Syn, on the other end. “Francie? Oh, thank God!”

“Syn, what’s wrong?” I asked, although I was afraid I knew the answer.

Syn immediately confirmed my worst fears. “It’s time,” she said, simply.

“It’s too early,” I countered.

“What can I say? She’s gone.”

My heart sank. I looked across at Lila, who was now looking at me with concern. I can only imagine what my face looked like, as I listened to Syn explain that she hadn’t seen Felicity in three days, and that my sister had blown off two auditions in that time.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I said, flatly. “But keep looking, will you?”

I hung up the phone and just sat there in silence. Really, I couldn’t keep doing this. Something had to give. For a while I forgot anyone else was there until Lila cleared her throat and asked, ”For heaven’s sake, Francie, what’s wrong?”

“Huh?” I blinked in confusion. “Oh! Lila, I’m so sorry! Where were we?” I made a move to pick up a sample menu. Lila pulled it out of reach.

“The lamb shanks can wait,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.”

“No, it’s—“

“Francie.”

I sighed in resignation. “It’s my sister, Felicity. She’s missing.”

“What?” Lila stared at me. “My god, Francie. You should go right away. Have the police been called?”

No, no, Lila, it’s not as bad as all that,” I assured her.

“What do you mean? Your sister is missing!” Lila was clearly mystified by my nonchalance, so I realized I needed to explain.

“She does this every year,” I said. “She’ll turn up. She always does. But I do need to go out to LA. She’ll need me when she does turn up.”

“I don’t understand,” Lila said.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not explaining this very well. You see, when we were six, our father died.”

“Yes, I remember. It was very hard on Felicia.” Lila smiled compassionately. “It must have been hard on you both as well. But what does that have to do with Felicity disappearing?”

“It happened in late September. His driver lost control of the car on some wet leaves. Felicity had a really hard time with it. I don’t think she ever really dealt with it properly.” I lost myself for a moment in the vague memories I had of that day, but tried to focus on the matter at hand. “Anyway, every year around the anniversary of my dad’s death, Felicity goes off the rails a bit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, as kids, it was things like acting out in school and being defiant at home. It would last for a week or so, and then she’d be back to normal. As we got older, she started drinking and doing recreational drugs, and running away. Then, she’d come back and act like nothing had happened.”

I could tell Lila was shocked. “What did your mother do?”

“She tried to get Felicity to see a therapist, but it never took. Either Felicity would clam up and say nothing, or she would blow off the appointments. So, eventually, we just learned to deal with it. When Felicity would run away, we’d try to find her, but we knew she would only come back when she was ready. So, most of the time, we just waited.”

“And worried.”

I nodded. “Yes. It was very hard on my mother.”

“What about you?”

I shrugged. “I managed.”

Lila hesitated a moment, and then said, “Francie, I know you love your sister, but her behavior strikes me as quite selfish and self indulgent.”

Even though I had thought the same way often enough, I still felt the need to defend my sister. “She can’t help it. Losing our dad was very hard on her.”

Lila shook her head. “It was hard on all of you. But you managed to deal with it and grow up. You didn’t cause your family further pain through self-destructive behavior.”

The last bit was said rather forcefully, and I looked at Lila for a long moment. Again, she had echoed the thoughts I had had many times, but felt guilty expressing. Despite how sad my mother always seemed when Felicity had her meltdowns, and despite the sleepless nights she experienced each time, she had always insisted that we not mention the incidents once Felicity had returned home. I had always resented that, and the fact that Felicity would continue to behave however she wanted. But, I never told my mother that. It felt disloyal, even now.

“She can’t help it,” I insisted. But the protest sounded hollow, even to me.

“Of course she can,” Lila countered. “Maybe not as a young girl, but she is a grown woman, and she needs to take responsibility for herself and her actions now. You can’t keep rescuing her.”

“She’s my sister,” I said simply.

Lila nodded. “I know. And I know that, despite how little she has done for you, you will always be there for her. But it isn’t fair to you, Francie.”

“She’s the only family I have left.”

Lila sat back in her seat and looked at me for a long moment. Then she said, “Your sister lives in Los Angeles?”

“Yes.”

Lila picked up her cellphone. “Michael is heading to Seattle tomorrow on business for the foundation. I’ll just have him drop you in LA on his way. Will that be soon enough?”

“Yes,” I said. “Felicity won’t be found until she wants to be.” That was true enough, but even as I said the words, I started to panic. There were so many reasons I did not want to be trapped on a six-hour flight with Michael Rhodes. So many reasons I couldn’t admit to myself, let alone Lila. I hurried to decline the offer. “Really,” I said. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“Don’t be silly,” Lila insisted. “There’s no reason for you to travel alone.”

“No, it’s fine, I swear. I’ll just book a flight when I get home today.”

“Who said anything about booking a flight?” Lila held up a hand for a moment as whoever she was calling picked up. “Yes, Charles, how are you?. . . Excellent. I’d like you to file a change of flight plan for Mr. Rhodes’s journey tomorrow. . . . Yes, a dear friend needs to go to Los Angeles, so I’d like you to drop her off on your way. . . . Thanks so much, Charles. Goodbye.”

Lila hung up the phone and turned the full force of her charming smile on me. “It’s done,” she said, cheerfully.

I knew I probably looked completely dumbfounded. I was completely dumbfounded. “Just like that?” I asked. “You can just change a flight plan on that short notice?”

Lila’s smile widened, and a mischievous twinkle lit her eyes. “Well,” she said. “It’s the foundation’s plane. And it’s my name on the foundation . . . and the plane. So, yes, I can.”

I had to smile back, but at the same time, I knew I could not accept. “Lila…” I began.

She cut me off immediately. “Francie, let me answer you now and save you the time. No, it’s no trouble at all. Yes, of course I should. And no, you don’t need to repay me. Does that cover everything?”

“I . . . uh . . .” I really didn’t know what to say.

“Excellent, that’s settled then,” Lila continued, as if I had agreed with everything. “Now, why don’t you head home? I’m sure you have a great deal to do before leaving. You’ll have to pack, of course, and get that lovely young woman – Keeley was it? – to oversee the business while you’re gone. We can pick things up when you return.”

“But your menu,” I insisted.

Lila looked down at the menu cards in front of her. “Do you know,” she said. I don’t really think crudité and lamb shanks are the thing after all. I’m thinking maybe Asian fusion.”

My jaw dropped a bit at that. Asian fusion? Seriously? But Lila was already packing away my things, so I had no choice but to prepare to go. “Thank you, Lila,” I said sincerely.

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll have Michael call you with the details.”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek, as had become her custom, and I headed out. The truth was there really was a lot I needed to do before I left for LA. Felicity never really thought about how her episodes inconvenienced others, whether it be me, or her roommate, Syn. Of course, thinking about others had never really been Felicity’s strong suit.

I spent the rest of the afternoon making calls and packing. Michael didn’t call. To be honest, I hadn’t expected him to. I knew he’d want to put off any conversation for as long as possible. Instead, he texted me in the evening that he would pick me up at 9AM. I sent back a terse reply and tried not to think about the impending six-hour flight the next day. In fact, I spent the entire sleepless night trying not to think about it.

I rose with the sun, since it seemed pointless to lie awake in bed any longer. I took Roxie for a run along the Esplanade, and then got her settled in the apartment (Keeley would be along later to take her to her place). Then I went to the lobby to sit and wait for Michael’s car to arrive.

He was prompt as ever, and I steeled myself for the inevitable confrontation. We hadn’t spoken since that Sunday night on the beach at the Hamptons, and I had no clue what to say to him. Whatever I did, I certainly had no intention of discussing Lauren, although I didn’t see how I could avoid it.

I followed Michael’s driver to the car, and waited as he loaded my suitcase and then opened the back door. I would just say, “Hi, Michael, thanks for the ride.” That’s all. And the subject of Lauren would be off the table completely. Perfect plan. Then I got into the car and sat down across from Michael. I opened my mouth to say my rehearsed line and then realized who was sitting next to him.

“Hi, Lauren.”