Just as I was opening a bottle of red to relax on a quiet Saturday evening at home, my cell phone rang. It was my mother who never calls on Saturdays. When she's not traveling, Saturday is her spa day where she spends the day primping and relaxing while watching Law and Order: Criminal Intent. Really, this just her excuse to drink Pinot Grigio in the afternoon guilt-free but in any event, I seldom hear from her on a Saturday afternoon, New York time.
She calls my cell phone through Skype and after I pick up, it usually takes her about ten seconds to realize that I had picked up. "Hello! Hello! Ella! Hello!" can be heard barking on the other end as she screams into the wrong part of her computer. I have showed her several times where the mic is but clearly she never listens. "I'm here!" I scream into my phone, "Ma!!!". Once she realizes that we have made contact, her voice goes from barking Long Island Italian mother to sweet and concerned mother - for a second. "Oh hi sweetie, it's Mom," she says. "I know, hi," I say, at this point just wanting move past introductions.
"Well, I heard some gossip today at the market," she said with a hushed tone. I swear I could hear her eyes look left and then right to see if anyone was listening. This reminds me of the time that she called me 1 am Paris time to tell me that she bumped into Tina Fosserelli at Rite Aid and thought that her baby was ugly. After she spit out her opinion, I spent fifteen minutes on the phone assuring her that she was not a terrible person because she didn't find all children to be beautiful. So I could only imagine what she discovered on this Saturday afternoon.
"Did you know it's MF's birthday today?" she asked with concern. Oh shit, I guess it is, he's 35 today. It hadn't even occurred to me. Before I could indulge in memories of last year, back when I was trying to mend our relationship that was hanging on a hinge with throwing him a surprise party, I had to stop my thoughts from wandering. "Wait, how do you know that?" I asked confused because she has a terrible memory. Did I mark it in the family calender when I in New York for the holidays? I couldn't have, that would be totally creepy and I always knew his ballpark birth date which was somewhere between the 9th and the 12th of February, so how the hell could my mother know the day he blessed the world with his presence?
"Well I'll tell you how I know," she said in her Page 6 voice like she is delivering juicy gossip via The New York Post, "I bumped into Jessica Mossberg-Stein at Waldbaum's and apparently she read on Facebook that it's his birthday," she said, saying apparently as if it was allegedly his birthday.
I forget that Jessica Mossberg-Stein is friends with MF on Facebook. She passed through Paris a few summers ago and we had taken her out to dinner. Jessica and MF both being iPhone people (I suppose like the rest of the world, sauf moi), added each other on Facebook after several mojito royales at the restaurant at Palais de Tokyo leaving their "friendship" immortalized on social media. I forget just how many friends we still have in common.
"Well that's lovely, I hope he has a joyeux anniversaire," I said sarcastically while letting my sip of Bourgogne slide down my throat. "Well the word is, his new girlfriend threw him," she waited for a dramatic pause, "a surprise party last night," she said as if this was the hottest news, "What a whore, she copied you!" she exploded. My mom is so eloquent.
"Mom, she's not a whore because she threw him a surprise party," I said defending someone whom I didn't know, "She and I are just both terribly unoriginal." This did sort of annoy me, he didn't deserve another surprise party because he's probably still acting like an ungrateful little bitch.
"Mom," I asked exasperated, "Is this why you called? To tell me what's happening with MF? Fresh off the Long Island gossip mill?" "No," she said defensively and desperately searching for something else to say, "Charlotte is also wearing her Valentine's Day collar, the one with the red bow and bell," she said trying to sound convincing, "She looks gorgeous." I had to admit that it was a good subject change because I'm sure Charlotte looked adorably festive and ready for Valentine's Day. Yes, I am a total cat person. "I don't normally say this, but can I hang up now?" I pleaded.
And there you have it, MF gossip traveling from Paris to the supermarkets of Long Island back to Paris. This what I get for staying in on a Saturday night.
