Page 100 - Too Much and Never Enough - Mary L. Trump

“I have no idea. Something that goes with these, I guess,” I said, holding up the box of crackers.
“Probably caviar,” he said, laughing. I shrugged, having no idea what caviar was.
I grabbed the basket handle and walked toward the pile of presents I’d stacked next to the stairs. I passed Ivana and my grandmother on the way, lifted the basket, said, “Thanks, Ivana,” and put it on the floor.
“Is that yours?”
At first I thought she was talking about the gift basket, but she was referring to the copy of Omni magazine that was sitting on top of the stack of gifts I’d already opened. Omni, a magazine of science and science fiction that had launched in October of that year, was my new obsession. I had just picked up the December issue and brought it with me to the House in the hope that between shrimp cocktail and dinner I’d have a chance to finish reading it.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Bob, the publisher, is a friend of mine.”
“No way! I love this magazine.”
“I’ll introduce you. You’ll come into the city and meet him.”
It wasn’t quite as seismic as being told I was going to meet Isaac
Asimov, but it was pretty close. “Wow. Thanks.”
I filled a plate and went upstairs to my dad’s room, where he’d been all
day, too sick to join us. He was sitting up, listening to his portable radio. I handed the plate to him, but he put it on the small bedside table, not interested. I told him about Ivana’s generous offer.
“Wait a second; who does she want to introduce you to?”
I would never forget the name. I’d looked at the magazine’s masthead right after speaking to Ivana, and there he was: Bob Guccione, Publisher.
“You’re going to meet the guy who publishes Penthouse?” Even at thirteen I knew what Penthouse was. There was no way we could be talking about the same person. Dad chuckled and said, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” And all of a sudden, neither did I.
It was impossible to laugh about the presents my mother received. Why she was still expected to attend family holidays years after her divorce from my father was a mystery, but why she went was an even bigger mystery.