Authors: Leslie Carroll
Tags: #Divorced women, #Contemporary Women, #Humorous, #New York (N.Y.), #Fiction, #Humorous fiction, #Mothers and Daughters, #General
“McIntyre.” He extends his hand. My own looks tiny in the palm of it. “Dennis McIntyre. And
my mother
taught me never to stand on ceremony. So, if it’s okay with you, Zoë, your mom doesn’t need to write a letter. She can thank me in person.”
Dennis puts his hands on my daughter’s shoulders and looks directly into her shining eyes. “Can I take your mom out for dinner next week? And maybe a movie?”
“Are . . . are you . . . are you trying to pick me up?” I ask.
“I already did that.” He smiles. “Claire. So, if it’s all right with you, I’m ready to move on to step two.”
Dear Diary:
Mommy’s different. I was so scared when she went into the
school the day it caught fire. And Mrs. Hennepin wouldn’t let
me go to see if she was okay when the firemen brought her out.
So I was even more scared then. But Fireman Dennis saved her
life and now she doesn’t get mad at me so much anymore. She
used to get mad at me sometimes if I didn’t finish my dinner
and when I picked at my food. Fireman Dennis asked her on a
date. Mommy wanted to know what I thought about that. I told
her I think it’s good because he’s very nice. Mommy said she
doesn’t know how she feels about that. She and Fireman Dennis
have been talking on the telephone and they talk for a long time
and she’s happy when she talks to him. Maybe he could be my
new daddy. I don’t think my real daddy will come back. I used
to think that but I don’t think it anymore. I think he is happy
being with Serena. Daddy went away in June and it’s February
now. That’s . . . July, August, September, October, November,
December, January and part of February. That’s really a long
time. If he was going to come back to live with Mommy and me
he would do it. So I don’t think he’s coming back. Maybe
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Mommy thinks that too. Maybe that’s why she is talking to Fireman Dennis a lot.
They are going to go on a date but Mommy is busy with her
job and Fireman Dennis is busy with his job and we have my
homework every day except on weekends and my yoga and ballet
and Museum Adventures and kinder karate, and if she goes out
without me Mommy won’t let me stay home alone so we have to
get a baby-sitter and MiMi said she would baby-sit me but she
has been busy too.
MiMi is going to have a big birthday party at nighttime and
I’m going to get to go and be with the grown-ups. She came to visit
us and asked Mommy if she could borrow Mommy’s wedding
dress to wear at her birthday party because she said it would be
fun to wear a wedding dress on her birthday. Mommy didn’t have
a fancy wedding dress because she and Daddy didn’t have a big
party. She did wear a long white dress but it is not fancy like a
bride’s dress with a big skirt like a princess. Well, it’s a little bit
fancy. The back of it stretches on the floor a little and if you get
too close, you’ll step on it. Mommy said MiMi could borrow it if
she wanted to but maybe it was bad luck because Mommy and
Daddy didn’t stay married.
I can’t believe Claire met a guy! That didn’
can
t come out right. I
believe it; she’s gorgeous, sweet, and funny. What guy wouldn’t fall for her? But if he hadn’t dragged her off a burning rooftop and given her mouth-to-mouth, chances are they wouldn’t have been introduced.
Maybe one of these days they’ll actually go out on a date. I invited him to my birthday bash, so she’ll see him again at least once. Between his schedule and hers—and Zoë’s—they’re having a hard time getting it together. Zoë actually seems pretty okay with it. That kind of surprised me, I think. In fact, she seems more PLAY DATES
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cool with it than Claire does. It’s a bad pun, but I think my sister is afraid of getting burned again. I don’t want to see her hurt. On the other hand I can’t watch her deny herself, out of fear, a second shot at love. If all goes well, I’ll get to meet Dennis tonight. I think she’s sick of my calling him her “hot date.” My birthday won’t exactly be a cozy setting, but at least they’ll get to spend a bit of time together. And he gets to meet the whole Marsh family in one shot. Talk about trial by fire.
I’d better quit while I’m ahead, here.
I stepped into The Corner Bar, which is exactly what it sounds like. A local place located at an intersection. Dark. Used to be smoky. If you bury your nose in a banquette and inhale deeply, you can still get enough of a whiff of stale cigarette smoke to satisfy most nic-fits. The only glitch is the jukebox, which plays kitsch like Olivia Newton-John and Weird Al Yankovic.
Jake, the guy who owns The Corner, is a thirty-something who treats the bar like his pride and joy, which makes it a cool place to hang out, toss back a few, and shoot some pool. A couple of weeks ago, when I broached the subject of renting out the place for a private party, he got really into it. Jake, in fact, was the one who talked me into getting my guests to go whole hog and do the black-tie thing. Since his music is an acquired taste, he agreed to supplement the jukebox selections by cranking up his stereo. I agreed to supply some tunes.
I wanted to talk to Jake just to be sure that everything was cool for tonight. The Corner had just opened. Jake was wiping down the tabletops and talking to a curly-haired, good-looking guy in a suit who was leaning against the edge of the bar.
“Hey, girlfriend!” He dropped his rag on a table and gave me a hug. “Happy Birthday, Sweet Pea!”
“When’d you get a girlfriend?!” the suit wanted to know. If you know Jake well, the man’s in love with his saloon.
“Figure of speech, man.” Jake slung his arm over my shoulder
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and brought me over to the suit. “Owen, this is Mia. The birthday girl. Miss three-oh.”
“Congratulations. I did it myself not too long ago.” He grinned and winked at me. Nice smile. Even nicer eyes. “Trust me, you’ll survive.” The suit extended his hand. “Owen Michaels.”
“Mia Marsh. What brings you to The Corner in a three-piece suit at . . .” I looked at my watch. “Eleven A.M. on a Saturday?”
Jake poured Owen a glass of O.J.
“Business meeting in an hour. With a potential client. I believe you’ve got to look the part if you want to inspire confidence.”
Fair enough. “Does he?” I asked Jake. “Inspire confidence?”
“You’re looking at one satisfied customer. Actually, it’s Owen who should be satisfied. The Corner has been a great ROI for him.”
“ROI?”
“Return on investment. Owen and I went to Colgate together.
You know how some kids want to be astronauts or firemen when they grow up? I always wanted a bar. Now, this guy,” he said, pointing at Owen, “Mr. MBA, here, has the Midas touch when it comes to investing. He can play the stock market like it’s a Stradivarius. Knows when to jump in and when to bail out.”
“Awww, shucks, Jake,” Owen drawled comically.
“Jump in? Bail out? That sounds more like playing the Hokey Pokey,” I quipped.
“Mia? O.J.?” Jake asked me. I nodded. He poured. “Want anything special in it?”
I shook my head. “I’d better not start this early. I’m in a party mood and I’m shitty at pacing myself. So, what are you going to put in a ‘Mi♥amore’?”
“What’s a ‘Mi♥amore’?” Owen wanted to know.
“A specialty drink I asked Jake to come up with for my birthday. It’s the name of the cosmetics line I want to start up. Eventually. My pipe dream. I’m a makeup artist.”
“I haven’t tried it yet but I was thinking of floating Chambord PLAY DATES
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on top of a glass of Muscatel. It will be sweet as hell. Just like you,” Jake teased. “We’ll try it now, if you want, so I make sure the Chambord will actually float for a bit.”
I frowned. I had a mental image of what Jake’s idea would look like. Blood and plasma. Ugh. “Tell you what. I pass. Think up something else. What about making it deep pink? I don’t know, vodka, Chambord, and pink lemonade. Not to shatter your rosy illusions, Jake, but sweet and tart is closer to who I really am. It’s probably a drink already, but we can rename it for tonight.”
It was Jake’s turn to frown. “Sounds awfully
girly
, but it’s
your
birthday, Mia.”
“I think you should have whatever drink you want. And I like the name,” Owen said helpfully.
I stuck out my tongue at Jake. “Hah! See? And I think you’re swell,” I said, turning to Owen. “I know it’s short notice, but if your tux is clean, you’re welcome to stop by tonight. Any time after eight.” I liked this guy. Okay, so he was wearing a suit before lunch on Saturday, but there was something about him I couldn’t quite pinpoint that made me like him right away. I don’t know . . . he was friendly, direct, confident, without being a show-man about any of it. Like, “yeah, well, so I’m good at making money.” No big deal.
“Thanks for the invite, Mia. I’d like that,” Owen said. “I’ll try to make it.”
To my ears, it was kind of noncommittal. Like “sounds cool, but don’t count on me.” Story of my life so far. Oh, well. I’ve got more to worry about than whether a near stranger I’ve just spent all of ten minutes with will show up later. More pressing, in fact, is figuring out what I’m going to wear. I thought I had it all mapped out, but I’ve changed my mind fifty times already.
By 10 P.M. the party was in full swing. Most of my friends are night owls. I was surprised that Zoë was still going strong. My
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niece was wearing an adorable party dress with ruffles and flounces. She looked like a little princess.
If I didn’t know that Claire had far less spare time than the mayor, I’d swear she looked rested. She was radiant. I think her new guy has something to do with it. Dennis McIntyre is not only a hunk, he’s attentive, warm, and seems great with Zoë.
He also hasn’t turned and run after maximum exposure to three more Marshes. He’ll really be one of New York’s Bravest if he makes it through the night unscathed. Some first date. Poor guy. Actually, our family’s not rude or mean or anything—just eccentric.
“So, have you kissed him?” I whispered in Claire’s ear.
She laughed. “Mouth-to-mouth. So, yeah, I guess. But I wasn’t conscious, so I don’t think it counts!”
“Do you think it’ll go anywhere?”
“My fingers are crossed. At least he understands my crazy life.
I’ve had to cancel dates because of Zoë’s schedule and he’s had to break them to go put out fires.”
“How can he make a date with you on a day that he’s working?” I’m confused.
“No. They call him in on a day off sometimes.”
“Isn’t it scary, dating a fireman?”
“We haven’t
had
a date yet. This is
it
, remember? You know, I didn’t think about it until this minute, but it’s scary being a mother every day, too. I’m not a paranoid person—except in playgrounds—but you just never know what can happen.”
“Let me get you a drink,” I offered, and pushed my way to the crowded bar. The Corner was packed. I’m a lucky woman, to have so many dear friends. Apart from Owen—who had just walked in, looking mighty tasty in his tux—there wasn’t a casual acquaintance in the bunch. I asked Jake to fix a Mi♥amore for Claire, and one for Dennis, who has sidled up beside me, perched his butt on a bar stool, and asked if there’s anything he could do to help.
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“Be good to my sister,” I said. “That’s not a suggestion. It’s a threat.” I laughed, but we both knew I was dead serious.
“If she can find time to let me, I’ll do my best,” he assured me.
“She’s been badly burned,” I told him. “Relationship-wise.
Burns can take a long time to heal. And there’s almost always scar tissue. I expect you know that.”
“I’m a patient man.”
Zoë came over and rested her chin on his knee. “And my parents got divorced when I was a kid, too. I’ve been where this one is,” Dennis said, gently patting Zoë’s back. “You hungry?” he asked her. “Your Aunt Mia is serving PB & J sandwiches.”
“Uh-hunh.”
I could see that she was beginning to get sleepy.
“Let’s go find the food, then.” Dennis stood up and steered Zoë toward the buffet table. “Thanks for the drink!” he said, turning back to me. He’d declined the shocking pink Mi♥amore in favor of a bottle of Bud.
Lucky Sixpence was dancing by the jukebox with my mother and some of my other gay friends. I had to do something about this music. Lucky had punched up the title song to
Grease
the movie. “Grease Is the Word” or whatever it’s called.
“Where are my CDs?” I asked Jake.
He took a look behind the bar. The pile next to the stereo system was his own. “I don’t think you ever brought them over.”
“Fuck. I’ll be right back, then.”
“Where are you off to?” Owen asked me. “You can’t skip out on your own party. Besides, I just got here!”
“Come with me then,” I suggested. “I need to run home for a minute. I forgot to bring my tunes and I can’t stand Jake’s juke.” We walked out into the East Village night, coatless, Owen in his Armani tux, me in Claire’s wedding gown. It had been my original wardrobe choice for tonight; and after trying on every other gown in my own closet, I decided to stick with my first instincts.
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“Your sister must have had a June wedding, judging from that dress. Aren’t you cold?”
“We don’t have far to go. I just live down the street.”
Owen slipped off his jacket. “Take it anyway. You’re shivering.”
“No, I’m not,” I lied, hiking up the skirt so I could walk faster.
“Mia, you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve met . . . today. It’s February, for God’s sake. If you’re going to hang out with me, you’re going to stay warm. I’m as stubborn as you are.”
“You’re no gentleman!” I teased, as he insisted, despite my protests, on draping his jacket over my shoulders.