Read Disillusion Meets Delight Online

Authors: Leah Battaglio

Disillusion Meets Delight (26 page)

“He really seems to be a nice young man.  He had his little sister with him.  Did you know that he is her legal guardian?  A man of his age taking responsibility like that, it is just so commendable.  It makes me want to cry.”  AAAGGGHHH why is this happening to me????

 

“Anyway, he asked how you were and I said fine of course you were awfully busy working and not doing anything else.” 

 

“Is dinner nearly done mother?  I’m really quite hungry.”  I had eaten a frozen entrée at lunch that filled me up for about a minute and have been starving ever since.

 

“He didn’t seem to be up to anything either.  Well, obviously since he has to work so hard with that little darling Maggie.  She really has quite the personality.” 

 

“So, dinner is almost done I assume then?”  I ask moving toward the kitchen as my head feels just a little bit lighter for some reason.  And then it happens.  The doorbell rings.  Why would the doorbell ring at dinner time?  Why would the doorbell ring at dinner time unless my mother had invited somebody?  Oh no.  She didn’t.  She couldn’t have!

 

“Ian!  Maggie!  Oh it is so good to see you again.  Here let me take your coats.  Now Margaret, I bought some of that sparkling cider so you could use the wine glass as well.  Sophistication does not need to always involve alcohol.” 

 

As I hear footsteps near the kitchen, I grab my purse and make a dash upstairs.  I can’t let Ian see me like this!  I assumed that since it was just my mother, I wouldn’t need to freshen up.  She would find something to critique anyway so why bother?  Thankfully, I wore one of my more flattering work ensembles so it would just take a bit of hair and makeup attention.  Actually, looking at myself in the mirror, it would take an act of god.  My eye shadow had formed tiny creases in my lids.  The blush had worn off from the 7 A.M. application and my nose had taken on that blinding shine that one never welcomes.  

 

“Natalie?  Natalie where are you?  We have company!  I can’t imagine where she went to, she was just here.”  I could hear my mother say downstairs. 

 

“Maybe she heard I was coming and made a run for it.”  I heard Ian reply.  You should be so lucky jackass.  Oh he sounds so hot.  Damn.    

 

I pull myself together the best I can and make my entrance into the kitchen where my mother, Ian and Maggie are engaged in conversation.  Of course, Ian also
looked
hot.  He was wearing a black v-neck cashmere sweater with a dark gray crew neck t-shirt underneath.  He was wearing dark blue jeans that had the perfect flare at the bottom-not too flare so that he was punk skater kid but not the awful tapered look that some men still insist on wearing. 

 

“Well what a surprise!”  I say in my most natural I had no idea my mother would step to such meddlesome levels to find me a husband tone.   

 

“Hi, I’m Natalie.  You must be Ian’s sister?”

 

“Yeah, I’m Maggie.  We’re half sister and brother actually.”  She put out a shy wave and giggled as she spoke. 

 

“Yes, I would probably make sure people knew that too.  Claiming him as full blood could damage your rep.”  Natalie 1, Ian 0. 

 

“Natalie Christine Everett!  Don’t be rude at the dinner table.”  My mother obviously doesn’t share my sense of humor.  Ian smiled just enough for one of the sides of his mouth to curl and he raised an eyebrow in recognition of our apparent duel. 

 

“Oh mother, calm down.  Maggie thought it was funny.  I was just kidding anyway.”

 

Maggie seemed to relax at that moment and helped herself to some of the sparkling apple cider.  She had her arm in a sling but appeared to maneuver quite well despite it all.  She had Ian’s dark eyes but her skin tone was more olive in comparison to Ian’s fair alabaster.  Although it had been only minutes that I had spent with her, I could tell she was a likeable teenager.  Not like some of the monsters that one would find at malls and movie theaters.  I couldn’t help but wonder if Ian had a little bit to do with it.  Oh who am I kidding?  If she learned any manners or charm, it was not from Ian O’Reilly. 

 

“Caroline, this lasagna is amazing.  I wish I could cook this well.  I’m afraid we sometimes have to use the old frozen food section standby.”  Ian said as he wiped his mouth.  For a moment, I pictured him and Maggie sitting in the living room with TV trays and a frozen dinner and it made me a little sad. 

 

“That’s why you need a woman around the house, Ian.  Natalie has always been fascinated with the Food Network you know.”  My mother takes a sip of wine as I practically choke on mine. 

 

“Mother, I just watch the Food Network because I have a crush on that grilling guy.”  Woo, good save.  Actually, the chef on that show is cute. 

 

“Ah yes, that makes more sense now.  No offense Caroline, but picturing Natalie in the kitchen with an apron making a soufflé is somewhat hard to imagine.”  Ian says chuckling to himself.  Well, I never! 

 

“No, no, Ian you are right there.  I keep buying her cookbooks in the hope that someday she will realize they are for making meals and not décor.” 

 

“Um, excuse me?  First of all, in my defense, I have a very nice sage green apron that I bought from Williams-Sonoma.  Second of all, I made manicotti once with homemade sauce and everything.  And it was good.”  Hah!  That will teach them to gang up on me!

 

“Oh yes, I do remember that.  You made a Valentine’s dinner for one of those boyfriends of yours.  Unfortunately Ian, the manicotti didn’t keep him around.  Isn’t he married to that girl from those carpet commercials?” 

 

“Yes mother.”  I roll my eyes but a pang hits me in the stomach and I suddenly feel a rush of embarrassment and sadness. 

 

“It’s okay Natalie.  You know, we are women of a new era.  There’s more to life than cooking for guys!”  Oh bless her.  Bless her soul she has come to my defense!

 

“Oh my gosh! I have a way cool idea!  You and Ian should take one of those gourmet cooking classes together!”  Um, I take that back.  She isn’t on my side at all!  I can’t take a cooking class with that man.  The first sign of weakness (which by the way would be cracking an egg if you’re interested) and he would eat me alive.  I know his kind.  He pretends to be
not so
savvy in the kitchen and then he’s cracking eggs with one hand and he’s on his way to teacher’s pet.

 

“No way.”  I say aloud as I finish my nightmare fantasy. 

 

“I would have to agree with Natalie.  I’m kind of busy right now with work and things.”  I give Ian an approving nod in agreement. 

 

“Besides, Natalie seems to be rather frightened at the idea of gaining culinary skill.  Caroline, some women just aren’t cut out for that type of thing.”  Ian says with an eyebrow raised in my direction that lets me know Natalie-1 Ian, now 1. 

 

“What do you mean, not cut out for
that type of thing
?  Last time I checked, cooking was not boot camp.  They aren’t asking us to serve duty for our country Ian.”  Thank goodness for that because I would never make it in the military.  I cry a lot. 

 

“Natalie, I can just tell that you are one of those women who go to the grocery store when you’re out of wine or the latest Cosmopolitan.  When you’re hungry, you go to your favorite restaurant and get takeout.  You don’t cook.”  Ian giggles under his breath as he wipes the condensation from the wine glass.  Actually, jackass, I subscribe to Cosmo. 

 

“So what, you think I’m a wino now who just reads fashion magazines?  You don’t know anything about me Ian.  Nothing at all!” 

 

At this point, my eyes have begun to bulge out and I am spitting mad.  I’m mad partly because in some ways, Ian did have me pegged.  I don’t go grocery shopping that much because I live alone.  Who wants to make a fabulous meal when it is just going to be me eating it?  Sylvester always meows with adoration, but in the end, he’s happy with his tuna surprise from the can.

 

I was annoyed with Ian’s quick judgment but I was also kind of hurt that he labeled me as some superficial chick with no substance.  I am more than that.  So what if I love designer bags and jeans.  I’m not a bad person simply because I plan to buy my very own pair of Jimmy Choos with my next tax return. 

 

“Oh here we are!  Margaret and I have just signed you both up.  Here, it’s my treat.” 

 

I didn’t notice Maggie and my mother had disappeared to the computer desk.  I was so distracted by our exchange of words everything else around me blacked out.  I stood staring at Ian and I knew for my own pride I would have to partake in this asinine cooking class. 

 

“Fine, Ian, it looks like I will be seeing you tomorrow night at the PCC campus at 6:00.  Tomorrow night?!  Fine, whatever.  Mother, dinner was wonderful but I really need to get home.  Maggie, it was really nice to meet you.”  When I got outside I took a deep breath and wondered how my Monday evening turned into such a wretched mess.  Not to mention I forgot to grab leftovers for dinner the rest of the week.  Wonderful.

 

I was overjoyed at the idea of walking into my apartment, saying hi to my feline soul mate, hopping in my favorite Crabtree and Evelyn pink flowered pajamas and getting into bed.  I don’t care if it is only 7:55.  I want this day to be over. 

 

“Surprise!”  I walk in to see Mya in the kitchen unloading grocery bags and rearranging my cupboards. 

 

“Hi Mya, what’s going on?”

 

“Well, I knew you didn’t have any food so I went to the grocery store and picked up a few things.” 

 

“A few things, Mya you have like ten bags of stuff here.” 

 

“Oh but Natalie, Zupan’s has smaller bags than Freddie’s so it just seems more.   Besides Natalie, you don’t expect me to live on coffee and ramen do you?”  Mya asks as if I was completely out of my mind.

 

“Um, no, of course not.  So, did you talk to Kyle, how did he take it?  You don’t seem to be that upset considering you just dumped your boyfriend.  Are you alright?”  It was true.  She was very chipper which worried me somewhat, okay, a lot. 

 

“Oh well, here’s the thing.”  She was wrinkling up her face which meant there was something more that she hadn’t told me. 

 

“I realized I wasn’t ready.  See, he has a huge presentation tomorrow and I have a test and so I really didn’t think it was good timing.” 

 

“Oh, okay.  So, then why are you here if you didn’t break up with him?”  Now I am really confused and scared.

 

“I told Kyle that you were having a bit of an episode so I thought I should stay with you for a while.  You know, for moral support and supervision.” 

 

“Are you kidding me?  So Kyle thinks I’m having a suicidal nervous breakdown?  Fabulous.  I’m going to bed.  Thanks for the groceries.  Good night.”

 

“But I wanted to show you everything I got.  Natalie?  Wait.”  Mya was trailing after me but after the evening that I have had, I was in no mood.

 

“Do you want me to make dinner tomorrow?”  Mya was now standing in my bedroom doorway in complete denial that I was trying to avoid her.

 

“No thanks.  I have to take a crap ass cooking class with Ian O’Reilly because he thinks I’m a superficial bitch that can’t cook and so I now have to prove him wrong.  Goodnight Mya.”

 

“Oh, um, goodnight Natalie.” 

 
Chapter Forty-Nine
 

 

 

I overslept and consequently was going to be late for work, again.  Lately getting up to go to work has been an agonizing event for me.  Normally, I despise being late for anything.  It stresses me out and puts me in a frenzy.  Being late for work was no exception.  But regardless of the heart palpitations and tearful raging moments because I can’t find my keys or my glasses or some other minute necessity, I still could not get my body out of bed until the 20 minutes before I should leave my house.  It was not a good situation at all and I knew eventually Magda Rubin-Allen was going to catch on. 

 

I ran out of my apartment where Mya was still sound asleep and my cat had migrated out to her sleeping quarters.  Sometimes I wish I was a cat.  Not so I could sleep with Mya, but because curling up in bed and only worrying about eating and crapping seemed okay sometimes. 

 

I carefully maneuvered to my desk with a watchful eye.  If I was lucky, nobody would even notice I wasn’t there.  I turn on my computer and take a deep breath.  I’m safe.  Nobody has even acknowledged my presence.  Ah shit, Magda is calling; so much for a good morning.

 

“Natalie, may I see you in my office please?  Thank you.”  Great, I’m probably going to get some lame lecture on how being late for work is a poor example blah blah blah. 

 

“Oh Natalie, good to see you.  Come in and sit down.”  She acts surprised as though I’m the one that wanted to see her.  As if! 

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