Finding Clarity: A Mom, A Dwarf and a Posh Private School in the People’s Republic of Berkeley

CHAPTER 11

When Sydney said it was a cardinal rule that no one ever, ever was allowed to

wear shoes inside the DeNutti’s glass box just in case a sole scuffed the precious floor

ripped out of a third-world rain forest, I just never thought ever included a party where

every tight ass with Yalie glasses and an open check book would have to slide around in

stocking feet. But sliding they were, in the distance, near the glass dining table, over by

the bar, down the few stairs into the sunken living room. It was like an evening

performance of Old People On Ice. There they were, every distinguished guest B-C could

muster, their laughter tinkling along with the ice cubes in their festive drinks, as they held

on to one another in their fabulously tailored fabrics and matching tans with the greatest

hope that they would not be the one to make a fool of themselves in front of all of

Berkeley society.

And there I was, gliding toward them, a tray of rapidly melting cromesquis in my

left arm, small napkins that said PEACE in my right. My shame was as deep as the color

in my cheeks. And I wasn’t sure what was worse, feeling this way or anticipating the look

on Andy’s face when I pleaded ignorance as to why I hadn’t corrected Deanna DeNutti.

Puckered old fools with names like Thayer, James, Daryl and Lamoreau, lifted the

crunchy brown balls off my tray, pretty much ignoring me. And why not? Those who did

stop into the office on occasion had no reason to remember me. And even if they did,

By Laura A. Novak Copyright, 2011 Pg1

Finding Clarity: A Mom, A Dwarf and a Posh Private School in the People’s Republic of Berkeley

what were the chances that I moonlighted for the very same caterer that Our Lady of the

Hills used?

Terrified I’d kill myself in my Hanes pantyhose (Jesus, I hadn’t even thought to

buy sandal foot) I moved gingerly from one distinguished guest to the next, careful to

avoid Sonya Sterling who leaned against the fireplace mantle, draped in a diaphanous

cloud of black tulle, holding court with her counterparts. Sydney hovered in the far corner

of the living room, near a modern art sculpture thingy that resembled an inner tube

resting on a toilet plunger. The thing – excuse me, art - must have stood twelve feet tall

and barely nodded at the ceiling, that’s how cavernous this house was. Colorful wires

darted in myriad directions as if screaming to get away from it. As I took the steps one at

a time, sideways, as if stepping in skies, I saw Sydney momentarily grab the sculpture to

regain her balance. It was then that she in turn noticed me, her what the hell are you

doing with a serving tray expression punctuating my self-loathing.

“What the hell are you doing with that serving tray?” Carlos Sommers eerily

echoed the sentiment through clenched teeth from behind me.

“You don’t want to know,” I replied, afraid to face him.

“Oh don’t I? You’re supposed to be my date. My beard. Remember?”

“Listen, it’s not what you think,” I whispered, as a young couple took the last of

the little turd balls off my plate. The man’s plaid tie in Christmas colors matched his

wife’s taffeta skirt. His nametag said Laurance. Hers read Laura. His vest was black

velvet. As was hers. I stared a moment too long upon realizing that their designer

By Laura A. Novak Copyright, 2011 Pg2

Finding Clarity: A Mom, A Dwarf and a Posh Private School in the People’s Republic of Berkeley

eyewear matched. But Carlos said, “Excuse us,” and pulled me toward the wall of glass

that faced San Francisco Bay and offered the best view money could buy.

“Really, there’s a simple explanation,” I began, tears welling in my eyes. “It all

started in Weight Watchers and….”

“I don’t want to know. But you got to ditch that tray because I’m going to need

your help,” Carlos added, jostling my arm. “I’m making my move on two guys tonight

and you’re going to help me.”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t look now, but over your right shoulder is the Board member in charge of

the finance committee. If Benno was paid off, he’d have to know about it.” I started to

turn but Carlos grabbed my shoulders. “Nope, don’t look I said. And then to your left,

nope, don’t turn around, is the head of the Buildings and Grounds Committee.”

“And what would he have to do with Benno being dumped?” I asked turning back

to the view of San Francisco as nonchalantly as possible.

“Nothing. He just smells nice.” I tossed Carlos a look of mild disgust and tucked

the tray under my left arm and began shoving the extra PEACE napkins into my other

armpit. “Don’t do that,” Carlos dropped his voice, “It’s gauche.”

“Look, what do you want from me?” I spat, finally venting my humiliation.

“You’re demeaning, this is demeaning. I’m not welcome here so I might as well go

home.”

By Laura A. Novak Copyright, 2011 Pg3

Finding Clarity: A Mom, A Dwarf and a Posh Private School in the People’s Republic of Berkeley

“No, Clari, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Carlos wrapped his arms around

me and nodded toward Sydney who began to slide toward us. “This, this tray thing was,

I’m sure, some sort of horrible mix up. But what we have here is our first and best chance

to tell a bunch of these dudes that we are on to them. Because there is no way in hell that

Dickie-Poo acted alone.” Sydney slid into our midst with a phony smile that I’d come to

realize was her public face. Her lips barely moved over her teeth.

“What’s with the tray?”

“Never mind the tray, we’ve moved beyond that,” Carlos brushed her off. Sydney

bent closer to my face.

“Has a girlfriend been crying?”

“No, just allergies,” I said, dabbing at my eyes.

“Well you take those nasty allergies right upstairs to the master bathroom and blot

that beautiful mascara of yours,” she said, putting her arm around Carlos who still had his

arm around me. “And tell Deanna to serve her own fucking McNuggets.”

Across the hangar, Deanna DeNutti zeroed in on me, crooking her finger as if I

were on a leash. “There’s a powder room off the kitchen, near the garage where the rest

of the staff put their stuff,” I said, ignoring her. “I’ll just go freshen up and then figure out

how to ditch that bitch.”

“No honey, if you must freshen anywhere, then you must freshen in the master

bathroom, like Sydney said,” Carlos affirmed.

By Laura A. Novak Copyright, 2011 Pg4

Finding Clarity: A Mom, A Dwarf and a Posh Private School in the People’s Republic of Berkeley

I crossed my arms, cocked my head to the side and said, “Why am I even listening

to this? I’m going home. You’re on your own confronting DeNutti.”

“No, it’s true,” Sydney insisted. It’s legendary that the bathroom is the only room

in the house with any color in it. It’s floor to ceiling black marble. I mean floor to ceiling.

I know because I used it once. I couldn’t help myself. One minute I’m peeing and the

next I’m snooping through Lady Deanna’s drawers. Even tried on one of her Dior

lipsticks. Awful shade on me, but that’s beside the point. All you need to know is that by

all accounts, Dick spends a lot of time in it.”

“What!” I nearly shrieked. “What on earth are you talking about Sydney?”

“No it’s true,” Carlos whispered. “The word on the street is that he uses the

master bathroom upstairs as his private office.”

“That is an image I choose not to dwell on,” I said, shaking my index finger at

them. I then started to slide toward the one hundred and fifty or so people gathering in the

main living area. “I’m going to go take a moment upstairs and then go home. I’d rather

be with my boys than acting as a servant for her.”

But Deanna still had me in her cross hairs. She herself began gliding across the

living room floor, pausing only a second long enough to glance at, nod to and then

summarily ignore Melanie Mueskes. Melanie lingered alone in front of a large white

canvas with a cream colored strip running horizontally across it. She was attired in a

Kelly green satin dress belted at the waist and was munching on a little turd ball that

someone else must have served her. Her halo of frizz was pulled back at the sides by two

By Laura A. Novak Copyright, 2011 Pg5

Finding Clarity: A Mom, A Dwarf and a Posh Private School in the People’s Republic of Berkeley

rhinestone barrettes. Dangling earrings in the shape of wrapped Christmas packages made

of sequins caught the light from the recessed spots tucked in the ceiling and I wanted to

cry I was so embarrassed for her. But Melanie just waved ecstatically at me as if this was

the greatest party she’d ever been snubbed at.

“Fine, but you’d better hurry before The Dick Man starts his speech,” Sydney

said. “He said he’s got a major announcement tonight, but knowing him, it’s probably

about his golf handicap.”

DeNutti, with his hunched shoulders and bear-like physique wagged his finger at

Sydney as if she too were his servant. He began to walk toward us, not slide, but walk.

Through the spindly legs of women who drank too much and the men whose grey flannel

trousers were last pressed in 1952, I could see that DeNutti wore what appeared to be

pale yellow surgical socks on his feet. The kind hospitals give patients, the ones with

sticky white pads on the bottom so they don’t fall and kill themselves.

“Hey, how come DeNutti gets to…?” I began.

But Sydney interrupted, the ever-present phony smile plastered once again across

her fabulous face. “Now’s my chance to tell our buddy here that we have something to

discuss. That should keep him from bitching to me about whatever it was he was going to

come bitch to me about.”

“But those socks…” I started to ask Carlos. But he linked his arm in mine and

said, “You need not worry about getting up that slippery staircase. There’s an elevator by

By Laura A. Novak Copyright, 2011 Pg6

Finding Clarity: A Mom, A Dwarf and a Posh Private School in the People’s Republic of Berkeley

the garage door. And don’t worry about Deanna,” he said. “I’ll go talk sales at Saks with

her so she won’t wonder why the help is using the master bathroom.”

Copyright: Laura A. Novak, 2011

By Laura A. Novak Copyright, 2011 Pg7