“Hey Ashley,” Arin says without inflection.
“Hey Arin, Seth. Where’s Toby?”
“He’s home with my friend. She’s staying with us from Brazil.”
“Cool.”
Arin walks past me and straight into the kitchen. Her eyes are filled with sorrow. Seth watches her go, then turns his attention towards me. “She’s angry.”
“I gathered. I suppose you have nothing to do with that.”
“She’s pregnant.”
“I hope you didn’t say that to her.”
“Say what?”
“That she’s angry because she’s pregnant.”
He shrugs. “Who’s the new guy in the kitchen?”
I look toward Kay’s small kitchen, which is crammed with people. That has to be making her crazy. “It’s Matt’s business partner. I guess he fancies himself a chef.”
“If you ask me, he fancies Kay.”
“I didn’t ask you.”
“No need to be so touchy. I’m just saying.”
“What’s wrong with Arin?”
“What isn’t wrong with Arin? I can’t do a thing right when it comes to her, and she’s quick to tell me. I’m in trouble for texting you.”
“Seth!” I pull my phone from my back pocket and there are unread texts. “I didn’t read them, I guess.” I study Seth and his tanzanite blue eyes, against his pale, balding head. He really is unaware that something like texting your ex-girlfriend can rile a woman—a pregnant woman. “She’s trying, Seth. You can be hard to reach and you need to communicate with her.”
“What? I’m there constantly for her. I don’t know what she wants.”
“She wants your attention.”
“Seth, really? You can’t stay away from Ashley for five seconds?” Arin yells from the kitchen.
At this point, I can’t think of a thing that keeps me here at this so-called dinner party. I grab my sweater and handbag from the coat closet, and meet Matt’s eyes. “Tell Kay, I had to go out.”
“Go out where?”
“Out!” I yank open the door and some random stranger is standing there. She’s tiny with golden brown hair cascading down her chest in loose, beach ringlets. Her eyes are dark and bitter. She practically snarls at my appearance.
“Hmm,” she says. “This is her?” She stares behind me.
When I turn, she’s speaking to Matt, who looks at me as if he has no idea who this woman is—but it’s obvious he knows exactly who she is. “This is Ashley Novak. She’s here visiting from Philly.”
The woman crosses her arms over her chest. “Why?”
“Because I used to live here,” I say, incensed.
“You used to live here with Matt?”
“Matt doesn’t live here.”
“Matt told me this was his house.” She taps her foot on the front porch.
“No.” Matt puts his hands on my shoulders protectively. “It’s my girlfriend’s house, Tammy. I told you that.”
I gaze back at Matt to see if he’s leading her in the direction he fed her.
“She’s the orange underwear girl?” I ask, and Matt nods.
“I left my undies here on purpose. That’s why I came to apologize. It’s Step 8 of my program, and I did it because Matt had this nice house. I thought he could rescue me, but then I realized the house was way too clean for a bachelor pad and I thought I could get rid of the woman. But, I found out, I could rescue myself.”
“I have no idea what’s going on,” I say.
“Tammy is trying to tell you that nothing happened between us. I’m not going to lie. It’s why I brought her here a few months back, but then she told me about her sponsor, and that she’s in for addiction. Something snapped me back to reality. Nothing happened.”
“No man ever turned me out like that. Like I was a dog to be put out on the street!” Tammy’s rage starts to simmer, and I’m worried she’s about to go back on whatever drug she just got off. “So I left my calling card.”
I shake my head. “Matt? Why weren’t you honest with Kay from the start? If nothing happened, I don’t understand why you chose to wait until I was pinned under you at Tiffany’s to infer that I’d found something?
“Because I told you, something could have happened and I felt guilty. I thought you might have found her earring because I found the other one.”
“Ahh,”
“Isn’t that just as bad? It was my intention, and if we weren’t in a crisis, would you have believed me?”
“It’s not me who matters.”
“Anyways. Sorry. Are we good?” Tammy asks.
“Yeah. Yeah,” I say. “We’re good. Good luck with the rest of treatment,” I say quickly, trying to usher her out.
“You were first on my restitution list. I barely know you from a stick o’ pigs, so I figured you were a good place to start.” Tammy sighs. “It’s going to get harder now, facing the people I really care about.”
I look at Kay in the kitchen, but she’s busily chopping vegetables and laughing with her guests. I don’t think she’s aware of what’s happened on the porch.
A stretch limousine pulls up behind underwear chick’s car, and a driver emerges. He opens the trunk, pulls out a Louis Vuitton suitcase then opens the car door. My mother-in-law, Elaine Novak, gets out of the stretch limo, and my heart pounds. I was wrong. This night could get worse. Infinitely worse.
Frantically, I try to dial my husband, but once again, it goes straight to voice mail. I text him, “911 NOW.”
A man follows her out of the imposing vehicle. I can only assume it’s the baby daddy, unless Elaine has suddenly gone cougar. He’s tall, brimming with muscles, and he looks like Josh Lucas. “Not bad, Emily.”
“Ashley, are you going to just stand there, or help me with my bags?” Elaine calls to me.
“Excuse me, Tammy,” I say. “Good luck with your sobriety. I know you can do it.”
Baby Daddy picks up Elaine’s bag—worth more than the contents of our house—and starts up the walk. See, the world just isn’t fair.
Emily gets a guy who follows her across the country and picks up his future mother-in-law’s bag without being asked, and Kay gets a guy who picks up addicts and brings them back to her house.
“Ashley!” Elaine yells at me again.
“I’m sorry.” I startle out of my nightmare and jump off the steps.
“You don’t have your shoes on? What are you, turning into Britney Spears?”
“Absolutely not. I can only wish for Britney Spears’ sanity at the moment.”
“Do you see what I mean, Josh?” Elaine snaps. “She’s in her own world half the time. I don’t know how my son bears it.”
To give her credit, Elaine is trying to speak quietly, but on the freshly asphalted street, her voice carries across the neighborhood Josh sticks out his free hand.
“Ashley, I’m Josh Greywold. With any luck, I’m going to be your brother-in-law soon.”
With any luck? I wonder if he means bad luck.
“It’s nice to meet you, Josh.” I’d like to tell him I’ve heard so much about him, but it’s not true. He could be a potted plant for all I know about him. For all Kevin knows about him, he’s some crazy stalker who chased his sister to California.
“Ashley, you seem pale.” Elaine pats my cheek. “I took an early flight. Josh has to get back to practice. Don’t you, doll? My son had to text me where you were staying. It’s no easy task finding you, my dear. This is really in the center of town, isn’t it?”
“Kevin texted you?” I kiss her cheek and take her sweater from the crook of her arm. “Won’t you come inside?” I look down at my phone, but there are no new texts.
“I’m sorry to bother you here, but I didn’t have my daughter’s address. It seems as if you’ve cordoned her off from the real world, as if she should be ashamed. It’s not 1953, Ashley.”
“No,” I tell her. “She’s actually staying in a friend’s mansion. She couldn’t have things more lovely. I wanted her to be comfortable.”
Well, I wanted her to sail off to some exotic land never to darken my door again, but that’s hardly Christian.
“She’ll be comfortable at home with me,” Josh says. “Where she belongs.”
I nod. “Of course. Come in, won’t you both?”
As we enter the house, Kay comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She reaches out toward my mother-in-law. “Mrs. Novak. What a nice surprise to see you again so soon.”
“I brought my daughter’s fiancé. He’s so anxious to get married, and once we found out where she was, we set out straightaway.”
I gauge Josh’s reaction and he does seem excited to get married. Go figure.
“Come on in, there’s enough dinner for everyone,” Kay offers. The miracle of the tri-tip.
“We already ate,” Elaine says. “We’d actually like to be on our way toward the wine country. I understand she’s somewhere there, but obviously, I don’t have the address.”
“You didn’t rent a car?” I ask her as I watch the limousine pull away.
“I thought we’d take yours.”
“I don’t have a car. I’m on vacation, remember?”
“You can take mine,” Kay says. “I’ll have Matt drive me to work in the morning.” She reaches up on her tip-toes and kisses Matt. He grasps her hand on his cheek, and doesn’t let go of her hand until they reach the kitchen.
“No, no. I’ll rent a car in the morning. No problems.”
“Who is this?” Tammy jumps back on the porch when she sees Matt alongside Kay. Her eyes slice back to me with laser precision. “I thought you were Matt’s wife?” She looks at my ring finger.
I shake my head, more than a little fearful that Tammy doesn’t have all the drugs out of her system just yet. I’ve seen way too many movies where the scary chick slides a knife out of a holster on her thigh, so I move behind Matt.
My mother-in-law is cawing. “The morning! We can’t wait until morning! We flew all day to get here.”
My heart starts pounding hard. “Well, you should have flown into San Francisco because you’re miles away from the wine country and your daughter, and we already drove that twice for your family and we’re not driving again! Understand?”
Everyone takes a step back. Including Tammy.
I take slow, deep breaths. “We’ve already driven that road twice in the last two days,” I say to Elaine, much calmer this time.
“Third time’s the charm. The third time is for love,” she says this while pinching her future son-in-law’s cheek as though he were nine.
“No!” I shout. “No! I’m not going anywhere. I’m on vacation. Vacation! Or do they call it
holiday
down in your neck of the woods? Regardless, it doesn’t include chauffeuring your in-laws all over the third largest state in the nation!”
“Well, isn’t she pleasant?” Elaine says.
I run up the steps, slam the door behind me, and clamber to my room, burrow my way under my pillow and scream into the mattress
. I’m never coming out!
‡
M
y phone rings,
and I yank it out of my pocket and see Brea’s name – not my husband’s.
“Hello?”
“What did you do?”
“Don’t ask. How’d you find out?”
“Kay told me to call you. She says dinner is starting soon and you’re holed up in your room and you left your mother-in-law with the Reasons?”
I groan. “I snapped at my mother-in-law! I’m standing next to Kay, who is planning to marry this idiot, the idiot and the idiot’s almost-fling, and I yell at my mother-in-law, what the heck is wrong with me?”
“I’m coming over.”
I don’t even argue. If anyone can save me from myself, it’s my best friend. It’s certainly not my husband, who has ignored my text, knowing his mother was on her way to ruin my vacation. It wasn’t bad enough Kevin sent me his sister? This word
vacation
. I don’t think Kevin understands it.
I hang up when there’s a light rap on my door. I brush myself off, stand up straight and open the door slightly. It’s Kay.
She waltzes in. “Way to make a first impression.”
“Oh Kay, leave me alone.”
Kay places her fingertips on her chin. “Notice something?”
I grab her hand and stare at the common chip diamond ring on her finger. “Where did you get that?”
“Matt just proposed!” she squeals.
I drop her hand. “Where?”
“You’re jealous!”
“Oh gosh, Kay, I’m anything but jealous. I’m worn out. Where did he get that ring? Is it real?” I grab at her finger again and she swipes it away.
“You’re such a snob! It’s beautiful!”
“We picked out a two carat Tiffany’s diamond. Where is that ring, Kay?”
I drop my head. I fell for Matt’s baloney. Going to Tiffany’s was all a ruse. He planned to buy her a piece of junk trinket all along.
“He said that you told him I wouldn’t like the ring you picked out. That it was your dream, not mine, and bought me exactly what I’d like, something simple.” She scoffs. “You can’t even be happy for me! You’re the one who told him not to buy the Tiffany’s ring! You always have to be the star, don’t you? You can’t share the spotlight with anyone?”
To her credit, Kay doesn’t rush from the room and slam the door. She waits patiently for me to respond, but I can’t bring myself to be happy for her. Try as I might. I know what kind of ring Matt can afford on his salary, and seeing the bubblegum machine toy he bought her, I can’t hide my disdain.
“So that’s it. You have nothing to say to me. No congratulations? No, ‘you’ll make a beautiful bride?’”
“You will make a beautiful bride,” I tell her honestly. “And I didn’t tell Matt that about the ring. We picked out a ring at Tiffany’s.”