When Girlfriends Step Up (19 page)

“You make amazing cocktails,” Jackie said to Chad, drawing out the word “amazing.” I sat my soaking butt down on a barstool. “Robin, Chad makes
amazing
cocktails. Virgin too.” She gave a small smirk in Chad’s direction, then took a sip of her own blue cocktail in between drags on her cigarette. Chad gave a shrug as he blended my fruity virgin daiquiri.

“So, have you given any thought to baby names yet?” Jackie asked. She put her cigarette out and blew the smoke opposite my direction. Her question caught me off guard. My head wasn’t in baby land. Quite the contrary. I found it curious that Jackie was suddenly flirting with Chad. Jackie was always the overtly flirtatious type. She was a man magnet and completely comfortable in her glowing skin. Flirty, and with an attitude that she could get any man she wanted. But she’d never really flirted with Chad before. Not that I knew of. We were always somewhat good friends with Chad and Conner, seeing how Conner and Claire had been together since freshman year and now lived together. And Chad and Conner were best buds. The group often came together in some form, but Jackie had never flirted so intensely with Chad. So obviously. Maybe her prospects at the jazz bar weren’t what she thought and she was…desperate? We still teased Sophie now and then for stooping so low as to have a fling with Chad. He wasn’t a bad guy. But…it was just…weird. It was
Chad
. That dopey, greasy-haired guy who tag-teamed it with Conner—nice guy, but more into chasing booty, it seemed, than chasing, well, anything else.

“Baby names?” Jackie asked, waving her hand in front of my glazed face.

“Oh, no.” I said. “Haven’t really given any thought to it, actually.”

“Probably makes more sense once you know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

I nodded my head as Chad handed me my drink. He put some fresh strawberries on the rim of the glass. It was delicious. I thanked him then hopped off the barstool and made my way back to the pool once Jackie started to give all of her attention—her flirty attention—to Chad.

***

“We are
not
watching
Scarface
,” Sophie protested late that evening when we were all dry from the pool and in comfortable clothes—some of us in pajamas—ready to watch a film in the impressive entertainment room.

“And
not
The Fast and the Furious
,” Claire chimed in. “Or any stupid souped-up man movie.”

I cuddled up under my blanket and reclined slightly in my chair. Lara and Sophie did the same on either side of me, while Claire and Conner shared the reclining love seat for two. Jackie was passing around bags of popcorn and bottles of beer, while Chad fiddled with the entertainment system.

“I’ve got something I think we’ll all like,” Chad said. “And once it starts there’s no going back. No complaining.”

“Better be some porn, dude,” Conner said, snickering. Claire gave him a solid whack on the head and told him he could sleep by himself tonight if he didn’t behave.

“A little something the ladies and gents will enjoy.” Chad took a seat a couple recliners down from Lara, and Jackie took one right next to him. Just then the screen flashed the usual FBI warning and the room became silent, everyone intent to find out what Conner was going to make us sit through for a good two or three hours.

“
Out of Africa
!” Conner shouted once the opening credits rolled on.

“Come on, man, it’s a classic,” Chad said. “And one we can all enjoy.”
 

I had to give it to Chad.
Out of Africa
was the farthest choice from
Scarface
or
Casino
or any gangster thug film I was expecting we’d have to watch. And I was always down for anything starring Meryl Streep.

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning, bright and early around nine o’clock, we all staggered into the large and immaculate kitchen.

Chad removed a pitcher of hand-squeezed orange juice. He poured Lara and me a glass, then one for Sophie as she came around the corner. “Sleep well, ladies? Pillows and beds soft enough?”

“Oh, amazing,” Lara said. “Thanks again for inviting us, Chad.”

“Think nothing of it. Totally my pleasure.”

Sophie threw back some aspirin with her orange juice and offered Lara the bottle, who also threw some back.

“A little too much drinking, girls?” Chad teased. He started to pull out various breakfast foods.

“What’s on the plan for today?” I asked. Claire and Conner made their way from their upstairs guest bedroom, still dressed in their pajamas.

We discussed whether we wanted to try out windsurfing first, or save that for the afternoon, when the wind would probably pick up. Or if we wanted to go kayaking, hang by the pool, even take out the speedboat. It was decided, and without much debate, that we’d first take out the speedboat since drinking and operating a vehicle aren’t exactly the wisest of combinations. And, since we’d be taking Chad’s truck to the water with the speedboat in tow, why not throw on the windsurfing gear and make it a whole “day at the lake” trip?

Green Lake was always packed with locals in the summer, and the Fourth of July was no exception. But with a speedboat and not having to resort to beachside lounging only, we didn’t have to worry much about the crowds.

“Now
this
is vacation,” Sophie said, laying out on one of the many red and white striped, monogrammed beach towels with which the speedboat was equipped. The sun was shining brightly at only half past ten, and the sky was a stunning blue with not a cloud in sight. A breeze was starting to pick up, and Chad assured us that come three or four in the afternoon we’d have enough of a breeze to make the windsurfing worth our time.

“Brilliant Fourth of July plans,” Claire said, also laying out on a beach towel, her forehead resting on her hands, her bikini top untied, letting her back get some strap-free sun.
 

“Hey, girl!” Jackie called out to me. “Want to take a dip with me?” In all her near-orange, faux-tanned glory, she was standing at the stern of the boat, looking like she was ready to jump right into the water. “Come on, let’s take a dip and swim around a bit. Laze it up. Last one in the water’s a rotten egg!” Jackie didn’t even give me a second to respond as she jumped off the boat’s edge.

“I’m coming, too!” Lara was a split second behind, only a flash of her bright red bikini and then—
Splash!
Eventually the rest of the girls dove in, followed by the guys, who brought along a few kick boards, tubes, and other flotation devices so we could relax and lounge in the cool lake water.

***

Windsurfing ended up being a lot of fun. I’d only done it once or twice before, but when I got up on the board and took it easy, one step at a time, it became less and less difficult. I caught a few good runs and enjoyed the wind blowing through my hair, careening over the glassy water, not a care in the world. Having fun and letting the wind physically take me wherever it wished. Of course, I had the entire crew of girls and the guys keep an extra careful eye out for me. They were insistent that I not take a run too long or too far. And they pressed the matter that I was pregnant and needed to be extra cautious of
everything
. As grating as it could be, I knew they were only doing what they thought was best.

By the end of the afternoon I was finally feeling like I was on vacation, and I wanted to soak up as much of it as I could. The day had been filled with plenty of swimming, some great windsurfing runs, and some much needed lounging on the speedboat in the sun. Tomorrow night we’d all be heading back home, back to the grind. But before then we were hitting up a local bar, or “pseudo club,” as Chad called it, that night.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky,” Sophie said to me while we were getting ready in the bathroom.

“Please,” I said. I ran a brush through my slightly wet blonde hair.

“I mean as in ‘lucky’ with dancing with some really hot guys,” she corrected.

From the sound of it, this local bar would be crawling with old fishermen, or forty-something townies, or married couples. I doubted it would have the dance or date material that a club like Vogue or the jazz bar where Jackie worked had. Although, if well-to-do, forty-something men were what Jackie was in the market for, then perhaps our pseudo club for the evening would be right up her alley.

“Don’t be a downer,” Sophie said in response to my negative reply of most likely not finding anything more than some gramps and cheezers at the club.

“Men can sense when you’re not confident and then that’s a total turnoff,” Lara said, straightening her hair with a hot iron. She’d already put on her “going out makeup” and looked fantastic. Maybe she’d catch herself a fish and tackle man.

“She’s right, Robin. Men can
totally
tell if you’re down on yourself. You need to
ooze
that confidence, baby. Ooze it!”

Neither of them knew about Bobby.
He
didn’t detect my lack of confidence. At least I don’t think he did.
He
was nice to me, and, I think it’s safe to say, purposely flirted with me. He seemed somehow interested in me…or at least interested in a repeat lunch date. Even if it was business. Still, I didn’t lack
that
much self-confidence. I was in a precarious situation. It wasn’t exactly easy-going for me, yet I was trying. Pregnant girls still know how to dance and have a good time.

I applied a smooth layer of peach-colored lipstick and smacked my lips. “I’m confident.” My tone was more whiney than brassy.

“‘I’m confident,’” Sophie mimicked in an exaggerated, whiney tone.

I gave her a playful nudge, then gave my loosely iron-curled hair a spritz of hairspray. “Oh shut it. Some guys find me and my confidence to be just fine.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped. “Do tell, girl! What are you hiding from us?”

I told her it was nothing serious—that there was a co-worker of mine, and we weren’t really flirting, but we weren’t exactly on our regular business or co-worker terms.
 

“It’s weird, that’s all it is,” I told Sophie dismissively. “Not awkward-weird like I’m uncomfortable, per se…”

“Just weird since it’s different now.” Lara finished my sentence perfectly. “Weird since things used to be one way—simpatico, really—and now they’re turning towards flirtation. Am I right?”

“Basically Bobby’s super nice to me now, and I don’t know what to think of it since he obviously has a girlfriend, and I’m, well…” I motioned to my stomach. “And your co-worker, Lara! What’s his name? Paul?” I looked at Sophie. “Paul is also nicey-nice now with her, too.” I looked back at Lara. “Kind of random all of a sudden and it’s…”

“Weird,” Lara said. “But anyway.”

Sophie was shaking her head and hemming and hawing. “So this Paul guy ordeal is the exact same thing as Bobby, Lara?” she asked. “He’s flirting with you all of a sudden and you’re not sure how to take it? And you obviously like him too?”

I opened my mouth to protest that I didn’t necessarily
like
like Bobby that way, but Sophie put up her hand to stop me from spouting such ludicrous things. It was extremely apparent that I was developing some kind of romantic feelings for Bobby. I couldn’t hide it, or fight it.

“Oh, no!” Lara suddenly protested. “It’s not the same thing. Definitely not the same thing.”

“How so?” Sophie asked.

“Paul and I don’t have anything going on. He’s definitely not ‘into me’ and I wouldn’t say I’m really all that ‘into him.’ Not really… No, not the same thing.”

I shot Lara a confused look. Earlier she told me she was into Paul, and that he was acting like he was interested in her. Now a different story? Was she as much in denial as I was? Probably.

Lara replied to my quizzical look with, “Well it’s not really
that
different, I guess. If all this stuff with Bobby is only in Robin’s head—making mountains out of molehills—then sure, it’s probably the same thing. But there’s nothing that
can
or ever
will
become of Paul and me. That
is
all in my head.”

“Uh huh.” Sophie blew her bangs away.

“It’s true,” Lara continued. “Nothing serious will come of it. He’s acting a little flirty, but I’m blowing it out of proportion. No bigs. And I don’t really like him all that much anyhow.”

I still couldn’t believe her, but if that’s how Lara felt now, that’s how she felt. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “So Paul’s
not
the same as Bobby. I admit it, girls. I think I do have a tiny thing brewing for Bobby. But he
does
have a girlfriend, and I’m not going there.” I looked to Sophie. “I’m not going there.”

I put my makeup back into the cosmetic bag, trying to tidy up to some degree the mess on the counter, and walked into the bedroom to slip on my pair of black, strappy sandals. “Not going there, ladies. Unless Bobby gets rid of his girlfriend—and he
won’t
—there’s nothing to discuss. Latent romance on my part; probably just blowing things out of proportion. Forget about it. And maybe Sophie’s right. Maybe I’ll find my dream man at this club tonight. Or at least someone I can have a fun time dancing with.”

“Latent, well…” Sophie said. “So you’re saying if this guy, this Bobby, didn’t have a girlfriend—”

“Forget about it.”

“But if he
didn’t
, you’d be interested, wouldn’t you? You’d pounce on this guy?”

“Gosh, pounce is a little…suggestive.”

Lara giggled, slipping on her own pair of summer sandals. They looked great with her simple, dark purple, cotton halter dress. “But you would, wouldn’t you?” Lara added in.

I grabbed my cell phone and wallet and headed out the bedroom door, pausing in the doorway. “In the right circumstance. If he was in fact single. And available. And looking. And
interested
. Interested in dating a woman with a baby on the way, mind you. Then…” I briefly looked over in the direction of the foyer, watching as our group started to gather and filter out the front door, ready for a night out. “Then yes. I’d try my damnedest to make Bobby Holman mine.” With a turn on the heel, and a flick of my hair, I made my way to the foyer where I joined Conner and Claire. Behind me I could hear a small duo of giggles from Sophie and Lara.