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Authors: Tracy Brogan

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BOOK: Crazy Little Thing
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“Is he here?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. Didn’t I tell you? He moved back home to save money to buy a restaurant.”

My brain pinged in alarm. She knew perfectly well she hadn’t told me, because if she had, I might not have come. She knew I wanted a man-free zone for my summer vacation. If Jasper was there, I’d have to share a bathroom with his whiskers and his toilet seat neglect. He’d fart at random and blame it on the dogs. And I’d have to wear a bra all the time! What the hell kind of vacation was this going to be? My trepidation over coming resurfaced.

It hadn’t been an easy decision to pull the kids away from everything familiar. Any extended visit with Dody had the potential for mayhem. So did most short visits. But the tipping point came when Richard forbid us to go. The passive-aggressive glee I got from telling him he couldn’t stop me was worth having to put up with Jasper.

I walked over to my SUV and opened the back to unload. It was loaded to the brim. I was a notorious overpacker and brought everything we could possibly need for the summer—and several things we wouldn’t. I liked to plan for every potential contingency. You just never knew when you’d get stranded in a remote place and need a ball of twine or rubber cement. Richard always teased me, but he had no idea how much of
my
effort went into making sure
his
vacation ran smoothly.

Dody turned to my children. “Darlings, there are toys for you in the kitchen. It’s mostly old junk from my friend Anita Parker. She just cleaned her attic.”

Paige and Jordan squeaked and immediately ran inside. The promise of toys, even crappy old toys from some stranger’s attic, was enough to get Jordan over his shyness.

Dody turned back to me. “Anita’s bird died. Did I tell you that? What a tragedy.” She lowered her voice in solemnity. “Gobbled up by her own cat! Can you imagine?”

“You mean the bird that bit me when I was little?” I was terrified of that bird.

Dody nodded. “Probably.” She hugged me again. “Oh, I’m so happy you’re finally here! Three years is too long.”

I reached out from her embrace and tugged on another suitcase.

“It hasn’t been so very long, Dody.”

“Pish-posh. Those times you stayed at a hotel don’t count.” She brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, as if I were three instead of thirty.

“We didn’t stay here because Richard was allergic to the dogs.”

“Bullshit. He just didn’t like me.”

I didn’t argue. She was right. Richard thought Dody was rude and invasive and that her house always smelled like cabbage and patchouli. Which it does.

Deliberately moving on, I said, “I signed the divorce papers last week.”

“You did? Thank goodness!”

I received another effusive embrace.

“I never liked him either, you know.” Dody wiped her hands together as if her memory of him were a greasy smudge. “Now that’s over and done with, we can find you a better man.”

I jerked out another suitcase and nearly slugged her with it. “Why would I want another man?”

Her expression of bewilderment suggested I’d just turned down chocolate cake. “Because, silly, you can’t stay single forever.”

I dropped the luggage with a thud into the dirt of the driveway.

“Technically, I’ve been divorced for five days, Dody. Uncle Walter died six years ago and you’re still single.”

“But you’ve been alone for over a year now. And I’m playing the field. As a matter of fact, I met a simply delightful man just the other day. Didn’t I tell you? We met at the shooting range.”

“The shooting range? What were you doing at the shooting range?”

“Target practice, silly. You shouldn’t own a gun if you don’t know how to use it.”

I nearly slammed my hand in the trunk.

“Use it? When did you get a gun?”

This was not good news. My aunt wasn’t responsible enough to own a squirt gun, much less something with real bullets.

“A few weeks ago. We have that skunk, you know.”

“What skunk?”

“The one who keeps getting in our trash. Last week he sprayed Lazyboy right in the face.”

“So you’re going to shoot him?”

“Of course not!” She reached down and picked up the smallest suitcase. “I’ll shoot over his head to scare him away. Anyway, his name is Harry.”

“You named the skunk Harry?”

She looked at me as though I was the one talking crazy. “Why would I name the skunk Harry? That’s ridiculous. Harry is the man I met. He’s a dentist. Lovely teeth, I must say. And his granddaughter works at the new Starbursts.”

“Starbursts?”

“Yes, the coffee place.”

“Oh, you mean Starbucks.”

“Yes, that’s the one. I love those Ralph Macchios, don’t you?”

“She means macchiato,” said Jasper, coming out from the house at last. He gave me a fast hug then scooped up several suitcases. “Welcome to Casa de Loco.”

“Thanks.”

My cousin hadn’t changed much since the last time I’d seen him. Taller, skinnier, if that was possible, but still a boyish version of my aunt, with curly blond hair and light blue eyes. And he wasn’t particularly hairy. Maybe he wouldn’t leave too many whiskers in the bathroom.

“Anyway,” Dody said, “Harry is Italian. He has a mustache, like the Italians. And there’s the gun too, of course. But do you know the very best part?” She gave a girlish giggle. “He looks just like Dr. Phil!”

Seriously? That was the best part?

“I met him, you know, Dr. Phil,” she went on as Jasper and I carried my stuff into the house. “At a taping of his show. He told me my scarf was very unique. It was the one Walter got me at Fort Knox. You know, the one that looks like a giant hundred dollar bill? Anyway, that Dr. Phil was the most charming man ever, even if he was staring at my bosoms.” She straightened her shoulders. “Walter always did say I have an impressive rack.”

“God, mother,” Jasper winced.

“What? I do.”

“What took you so long, Mommy?” Paige demanded when I finally joined them on the beach later that evening. Jasper had gathered some chairs in a semicircle so we could watch the sunset near the water. He and Dody were there, waiting with the kids.

“I was putting things away,” I said.

She put her hands on her hips and frowned. “You’re always putting things away!”

“Darling, would you and Jordan find me some bird feathers?” Dody interrupted. “If you do, I’ll make you each a dream catcher.”

Paige nodded and skipped away, pulling Jordan with her.

Jasper gestured to a beach chair. “Have a seat. Want a beer?” He reached into the red cooler sitting next to him in the sand.

I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had a beer. The women of Glenville didn’t drink beer. They sipped expensive chardonnay from delicately stemmed goblets. Of course, most of them polished off the entire bottle in one sitting to wash down their Prozac. And by them, I mean me.

But I was officially on vacation. Time to kick back and relax. “Sure, I would love a beer. Thanks.”

No sooner had I taken the bottle from one cousin’s hand when the unmistakable melody of my other cousin rang out.

“Free at last, baby girl! You are free at last!”

Fontaine, Dody’s younger son, galloped down the deck steps two at a time, his lime-green shirt unbuttoned and flapping in the breeze. His dark hair was artfully gelled into place and he sported a dashing new goatee. He kissed the air next to my ear. “You look fab, Sades. Broken heart agrees with you.”

“Thanks, Fontaine. You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

He smiled, flashing unnaturally bright teeth, and flexed a slender bicep. “I know, right? I’ve been doing yoga with Mom.”

Jasper choked on his beer. “It’s revolting to watch.”

Fontaine twitched a dark brow. “You’re just jealous because I’m so bendy.”

“Right. If I ever need to stick my head up my own ass, maybe I’ll join you. Here’s a beer.” He tossed it to Fontaine, who caught it with a flourish.

“Boys, play nice,” Dody said, extending her leg and wiggling her foot. “Fontaine, do you love my new flip-flops? I got them for a steal at the dollar store. They were a dollar.”

“What are the odds?” Jasper mumbled, immune to the thrill of finding cute, cheap shoes.

“Sparkly, Mom. Good find.” Fontaine plopped down into a beach chair and I did the same.

The sun glowed orange, casting light and shadows across the sand. It was nearly time to tuck my kids into bed, but Paige was giggling, tossing feathers into the air and watching them float downward. Jordan was poking at a dried clump of seaweed with a driftwood stick. Maybe just this once they could stay up late. Tomorrow we could establish our bedtime routine.

“Fontaine, tell Sadie about your magazine interview,” Dody said. Then she turned to me. “He was interviewed for a magazine, Sadie. Isn’t that exciting? It’s all about his new interior design job and how everybody is doing fong shewy.”

“It was a blurb, Mom.” Fontaine sipped his beer.

“Nonetheless, it was very flattering.” She dabbed moisture from her eyes. “You’ve got your fancy decorating job, and Jasper works at such a nice restaurant and has a beautiful girlfriend. You are both doing so well.” Her voice caught with emotion. “Walter and I are so proud of you.”

“Have you been talking to Dad again?” Jasper’s tone was as dry as the sand.

“Not directly, of course. But my spiritual advisor has. She’s very wise.” Dody lifted her foot again, admiring how the sun reflected off the sparkles of her one-dollar flip-flop.

“Wise enough to swipe your money and tell you gibberish. If she’s so good at communicating with Dad, ask him where he left the good rake.”

“He can’t be bothered with such trivial, earthbound questions,” she answered.

“Why? It’s not like he has someplace else to be,” Jasper responded.

“Oh, phooey. I’m not discussing this with you anymore. Sadie, ask Fontaine about his magazine article. Oh, and the renovations at his house. That’s why he’s staying with us for a few weeks, you know.”

I spilled beer on the front of my shirt. “You’re staying here too?” Damn! How many men was I going to have to put up with during this visit?

“I’m moving a few walls. But the drywall dust is hell on my nasal passages. Besides, you’ll have way more fun with me here. You can’t just sit around all day with my mom.”

Au, contraire! That is exactly what I planned to do. A big, fat nothing! I wanted to lie on the beach for hours, play checkers with my kids, watch mindless television, and give up all personal grooming habits. I was here to escape from men, but my visions of a perfectly estrogen-driven summer vacation were vanishing faster than the polar ice caps. Sure, Fontaine was fun, like cotton candy is fun. But it’s also sickeningly sweet and too much gives me a splitting headache. Just like Fontaine.

I forced a smile. “That’s great. We’ll have a blast.”

I looked back over the water and gulped down my beer. This wasn’t at all what I had planned. But then again, what in my life was turning out the way I expected?

Fontaine tapped his elbow against mine. “So, sugarplum, aside from the total collapse of your marriage, what else is new?”

He was as blunt as he was fashion conscious, which is to say, very.

“Not much. Richard is still mad I got the house. My mother is still mad I got divorced while my sister is mad I didn’t dump him sooner. And I’m thinking about cutting my hair. How about you?”

He nodded. “Yes, I definitely think you should cut your hair.”

“That’s not what I meant. Hey, wait a minute! You said I looked fabulous.”

He was already getting on my nerves.

“You do, mostly. But your hair shows hints of giving up. We’ll have to do better since you’re back on the market.”

I sat forward in my chair so abruptly a flock of nearby seagulls launched into flight. “I am not on the market!”

“Of course you are.” He set his empty bottle in the sand.

“That’s what I said!” Dody nodded emphatically.

“I am not.” I shook my head, equally emphatic.

“Don’t even bother, Sadie.” Jasper chuckled. “You’re their summer project. Didn’t you know?”

“Pish-posh, Jasper. Shush yourself,” Dody hissed.

“Is that why you invited me here?” A wave of nausea rolled over me and the back of my neck prickled like heat rash. I should have known my aunt’s insistent invitation cloaked an ulterior motive. She wasn’t president of the Bell Harbor Busybody Association for nothing.

“Don’t listen to him, darling,” Dody assured me. “We just want to nurture you and mend your broken spirit.”

“I don’t have a broken spirit!”

Fontaine and his mother exchanged a look. One that said
She’s so pathetic she doesn’t even realize how pathetic she is
.

“Seriously. I’m fine. I just need a little vacation.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, kitty cat.” Fontaine sighed. “We just want you to have a little fun, you know.”

“Yeah, well, fun for me does not involve men.”

“But darling,” Dody chided gently, “you can’t fight against the universal balance. Without the despair of today we can’t experience the joy of tomorrow.”

“Did Dr. Phil tell you that?” Jasper asked, draining the last of his beer before reaching into the cooler and taking another.

BOOK: Crazy Little Thing
2.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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