Authors: Beth Kendrick
I batted my eyelashes. “Ooh, la la.”
“Zee finest Price Chopper had to offer.”
“You really know how to spoil a girl.”
“I’m learning.” He sat down across from me and passed the tater tots. “I talked to my dad today. Told him I quit.”
“How’d he take it?”
“Better than I expected, actually. There’s an opening for a basketball coach at the high school, and I think I might apply.” He watched my reaction closely. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Maybe it was just those pheromones kicking into high gear again, but these were the best tater tots I’d ever tasted. “Everything looks delicious. I can’t wait to taste the turkey.”
“In a minute. First, a toast.” He held his wineglass aloft and said, “Here’s to starting over, one step at a time.”
R
ing the bell again,” Erin instructed, stomping her feet on the welcome mat outside Casey’s apartment. “Maybe she’s in the shower.”
“If she’s in the shower, she’s not going to hear us, no matter how many times we ring it,” I said, but Erin just ignored me and jabbed the doorbell.
We huddled together on the stoop and listened for any signs of activity on the other side of the door.
“Maybe she’s not home,” I suggested.
Erin looked cranky. “She better be home. I talked to her yesterday afternoon and we agreed to leave at ten o’clock. It’s”—she shoved back her coat sleeve to check her watch—“ten-oh-seven right now. She is officially late.”
“Cut the girl some slack; it’s Sunday morning.”
“Ha. If I know Casey, she’s probably already mopped the
floor, done two loads of laundry, and whipped up a homemade quiche Lorraine or some Welsh rarebit.”
I shook my head. “You are in some mood today.”
“Yeah, because I’m a marital refugee shuffled from couch to couch while my ex-mother-in-law takes over my house and burns me in effigy. Cut
me
some slack.”
“Well, at least you didn’t get dissed and dismissed at the courthouse by the man who promised to cherish you forever,” I said. “Cut
me
some slack.”
“We all need some slack,” Erin declared. “That’s why we’re leaving the state. As soon as Casey gets her organic little posterior out here.”
Before she could ring the bell again, Casey poked her disheveled head out. She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed—her reddish-brown hair was mussed and she had dark purple smudges under her eyes. “Hey, guys. Is it ten already?”
Erin looked ready to stroke out. “You’re not even dressed yet?”
“Hey.” I nudged her boot with mine. “We’re going Christmas shopping; it’s supposed to be fun, remember?”
“Yeah, but if it takes an hour to get there, and an hour back, then an hour for dinner, and we’re planning to see a movie…”
“Hurry,” I pleaded to Casey. “I can’t take much more of this.”
“Yeah, actually…” Casey stretched her arms over her head. “I don’t think I’m gonna go.”
“You have to go!” I jerked my head toward Erin. “Don’t leave me alone with her today!”
“Sorry. Some stuff came up at the last minute, and you know how it is.” She shrugged helplessly. “But you guys have a good time.”
“Come on,” I wheedled. “Can’t you see we need retail therapy in the worst way?”
And then I noticed Casey’s T-shirt. It was big. It was baggy. It had an NBA emblem on the front. “Is that Nick’s shirt?” I asked.
She twisted the incriminating garment around her torso, trying to obscure the Celtics logo. “Uh…”
“You’re sleeping in his shirt?” Erin asked in disbelief.
“No! I just put this on thirty seconds ago.”
“And what were you wearing before that?” I prompted.
“Uh…”
“Honey? Who’s at the door?” Nick ambled up behind Casey and peered over her shoulder. He also sported rumpled bed hair and wore only a pair of striped blue boxers. I couldn’t help noticing he was one of those rare guys who actually looked better with fewer clothes on.
I looked at Casey, looked at Nick, and said, “You didn’t.”
“She did,” Erin squealed.
“Can we talk about this later?” Casey asked. “I have a lot to do today.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you do.” Erin and I both cracked up.
“Oh, grow up.” Casey folded her arms. “What is this, junior high?”
“No.” Erin tried to suppress a laugh. “I’d say you need at least an R rating.”
“Boinking in the Berkshires,”
I suggested.
“The Naughty Snowbunny and the Ski Patrol.”
“You’re not funny,” Casey said acidly.
“It’s a little funny,” Nick threw in. “Don’t give me that look. I’m just saying—”
“Watch your head,” Erin advised him. “Try not to bang it against anything hard.”
I chimed in with my version of a cheesy porn sound track. “Bow chicka bow wow…”
Casey slammed the door.
Erin and I collapsed on each other, giggling.
“Well, I guess she and Nick are going to give it another try,” I said when I caught my breath.
“Evidently.” Erin rubbed her eyes. “You know, that really cheered me up.”
“You’re evil, but that’s why I like you.” I started back down the stairs toward the parking lot. “Now let’s shop.”
Our spirits improved even more when we drove past the large sign welcoming us to the Empire State.
“So long, Massachusetts!” Erin tapped the car horn. “Hopefully, our karma will improve in New York.”
But before we even reached the thruway exit for Crossgates Mall, we were snarled in gridlock and inhaling noxious exhaust fumes.
“This is what we get for braving the stores two weekends before Christmas.” Erin turned up the radio, which was playing a grand orchestral version of “Carol of the Bells.” “But I have to send everything out this week if I want presents to make it to California by the twenty-fifth.”
“At least you don’t have to buy anything for Renée.”
“Oh, I already did. A hideous little ceramic taco holder in the shape of a Chihuahua. Tackiest thing you’ve ever seen. I’ll mail it to her after New Year’s. Anonymously, of course.”
“Leave it with me and I’ll leave it on her doorstep in the middle of the night,” I offered.
“You’re a doll. Would you consider TPing the house while you’re at it?”
“Sure, why not?”
“So what do you have to buy today? Are you almost done with your list?”
“Well, now that Taylor, Marissa, and Mark are no longer on it, my list is considerably shorter.” I paused. “But I decided to sign up for one of those adopt-a-family programs, so I’ll be stocking up on toys for a six-year-old boy and an eighteen-month-old girl. And I’m going to get my parents something. Even though they told me not to.”
Erin nodded. “They want you to save your money for tu
ition?” Last night, we’d gone online to check out the prerequisites for the nursing program at Berkshire Community College. I’d have to take some science courses at night while working full-time at the preschool, but I estimated that I could finish the degree in two years if I stayed focused.
“Not exactly.” I fiddled with the seat-belt strap. “They kind of disowned me.”
Erin slammed on the brakes as the car ahead of us stopped short on the exit ramp. “For what?”
I stared up at the heavy gray clouds. “For letting Mark get away.”
“What the hell do they think you’re supposed to do? Drug him and lock him in the basement?”
“No, my mom thinks I should be happy with what I have and stop obsessing about a baby. She says there’s a bunch of research proving that childless couples are happier in the long run, and I should hang on to Mark for dear life.”
“But, even ignoring for a moment the fact that you guys can’t agree on the baby issue, he
lied to you.
Multiple times. About big things like,
I can father children
and
I’ll meet you at the courthouse to get married.”
I sighed. “Well, my mom doesn’t see it that way.”
“She wants you to spend your life with a liar?”
“She wants me to spend my life the same way she did—with a wealthy guy to take care of me.”
“And what does your dad say about all of this?” Erin asked.
“He’s in prison,” I said dully. “So not much.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. His attorneys are appealing again, so there’s a chance he could be out soon, but either way, they’re bankrupt. Most of their snooty friends pretend not to know them. And they just want me to be protected from all that crap.”
“But to stop speaking to you…”
“She’ll get over it eventually.” I cracked open the window for some fresh, cold air. “I hope.”
We finally made it into the mall parking lot and found a spot right away as an SUV pulled out in front of us.
“See?” Erin clapped her hands. “Total karmic reversal. All right, let’s get in there and focus. If we finish by five, we can still catch a movie, and I know there’s a giant box of Sno-Caps with my name on it.”
Everything went fine until we wandered into Baby Gap. I picked out socks, mittens, and corduroy overalls for my adopt-a-family toddler, but as I reached out to stroke a soft pink angora sweater, my face crumpled.
“Stella?” Erin stopped ooh-ing and ahh-ing over a miniature pair of red rain boots. “Are you all right?”
I nodded, mute with grief. My fist closed around the angora while tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Are you hurt? Are you sick? What the hell?”
“Babies.” I gasped. “They’ve ruined my whole life and I don’t even have any.”
“Oh boy.” She threw an arm around my shoulder and steered me into a corner. “Calm down. Deep breaths.”
I grabbed the tissue she offered and blew my nose loudly. “My marriage didn’t work because of a child that doesn’t exist.”
“Your marriage didn’t work because the groom was a pussy,” she said bluntly.
“I know I’m supposed to be ambitious. I’m supposed to want to be a lawyer, or a CEO, or a doctor like you, but I don’t. I just want to be a mother. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Erin soothed.
“I’m twenty-four, I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, and all I can think about is kids.”
“And you’ll have them. You’ve got plenty of time.”
“When?” I wailed. “When am I going to be able to come in here and buy onesies with ducks on them for
my
baby?”
Erin made a face. “Ducks? Really?”
“I like ducks.” I sniffled. “Kittens, pandas, little fuzzy bunnies…I love all that stuff.”
“Okay, the pandas are kind of cute,” Erin conceded. “But don’t cry about it. Your time will come.”
“I got my period this morning,” I said. “I cried for twenty minutes.”
“So that’s why you took so long in the shower.”
“Something’s wrong with me. I’m a babyholic. The more I want to start a family, the more single I get. And now I’m back to square one.”
“You’re psychotic with hormones right now, but trust me when I say a million guys will be lining up to father your child as soon as you’re ready to date again.”
“But I need to find the
right
guy.”
“You’ll find him, I promise. When you least expect it.”
I dabbed my eyes. “I hate when people say that.”
“Hate away, but I know I’m right. When you least expect it, Stell. Wait and see.”
I
can’t believe you’re really leaving,” I said, as Erin topped off her glass of diet soda and offered me a refill. It had been a week since Stella’s now infamous breakdown at Baby Gap, and Erin was preparing to leave for Boston. For good.
Erin placed the empty soda can on Stella’s makeshift coffee table—an overturned shipping box from my store—and jingled the keys to the U-Haul parked outside. “I finished my last day at the office fifteen minutes ago and I am officially done with Alden, Massachusetts.”
“How does it feel?” I asked.
She paused for a moment before answering. “Not so great. I thought I’d be triumphant and relieved, but—”
“But it’s sad,” Stella finished. “And you haven’t heard from David?”
Erin shook her head. “Let’s not talk about this right now. I want to leave on a good note.”
Between Erin’s packing, Stella’s unpacking, and Cash’s exuberant romps, Stella’s new apartment looked like a Target after a cyclone. Books and magazines were piled high on every available flat surface, shoes and scarves were jumbled on the closet floors, and the kitchen counter was crowded with pots, pans, and cartons of dishes. Stella had managed to clear a small area for the sofa, Cash’s fleece-lined bed, and a three-foot Christmas tree, which she and Erin had decorated with various earrings, necklaces, and hair clips. (“We did the best we could with what we had,” Stella had explained when she caught me staring at it. “Neither one of us was in the mood to go shopping for ornaments and glittery stars.”)
“I’m going to miss you guys,” Erin said.
“We’ll miss you, too,” I said. “And if you decide to come back and try to work it out with David—”
She tried to look puzzled. “David who?”
“Give it up.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’m over him,” she blustered. “I mean it. He’s not the man I thought he was.”
“Neither was Mark,” Stella said.
They both turned to me.
“Yeah, men totally suck,” I agreed. “Hear, hear.”
Erin smiled at Stella. “She says it, but she doesn’t mean it.”
“She’s gone,” Stella said. “Back to the dark side.”
“I have not!” I protested. “Just because I’m reevaluating the situation with Nick—”
“And having sex with him,” Erin added.
“And floating around on a little cotton candy cloud with puffy pink hearts where your eyeballs should be,” Stella teased.
“—does not mean I’ve decided to get back together with him. I’m still thinking things over.” I held up a hand to silence their jeers. “No, I mean it! Things have been great for the past week, but he’s on his best behavior. All the sex has been fogging up our brains. It’s only a matter of time before he starts backsliding into his old ways: stubbornness, absenteeism, monosyllabic answers to all my questions.”
“Well, enjoy the brain-fogging sex while it lasts,” Erin advised.
“Don’t worry, I am. Speaking of which, I’ve got to get going. I’m meeting Mr. Brain Fog at seven, and I need to change.”
“Someplace fancy?”
I flushed. “The White Birch.”
Erin and Stella immediately launched into a chorus of
“Ooh…”
“It’s not serious!” I insisted. “It’s just sex.”
“Girl, if you’re making an appearance at the White Birch on Friday night, you are officially an item.”
“Yeah, you might as well put on his varsity letter jacket and wear his class ring on a chain around your neck.”
“But I hate to leave while you’re still here, Erin. I mean, who knows when I’ll get to see you again?”
“I’m moving to Boston, I’m not dropping dead,” Erin said. “It’s only a two-hour drive. And I expect you both to come visit. We’ll go bar hopping and troll for men. Bring your most inappropriate outfits.”
“Aw, you guys.” I got to my feet and held out my arms. “You’re the best friends I could ever find out I’m not legally married with. Group hug.”
Erin pretended to retch, but she joined in, and so did Stella.
“Safe trip.” I gave Erin an extra squeeze. “Good luck. Don’t forget us.”
My stomach did a little samba in anticipation of seeing Nick, even though I should have known better. What if he couldn’t keep any of the promises he’d made this week?
I found myself going back to my old marital mantra:
Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?
I wanted to be happy. Maybe, hopefully, just this once, I’d underestimated him.
The White Birch was packed with a dressy, Friday night date crowd, and Nick and I had to wait at the bar until a table opened up.
“I made reservations.” He glowered. “I planned in advance.”
“I know you did,” I assured him. “It’s not your fault the other diners are slow eaters.”
He looked at his watch. “The hostess said they had an opening at seven sharp. It’s seven ten and—hey! Those people got here after us! Why do
they
get to sit down?”
“Nick. Chill. We’re having a nice time, remember? This is supposed to be fun.”
“I don’t want to keep you waiting.” He drummed his fingers on the top of the bar.
I brushed back my hair and smiled. “I’m sitting here enjoying a glass of wine with a hot guy. What’s the rush? If I wanted to freak out about falling ten minutes behind schedule, I’d go out with Erin.”
He finally relaxed. “Did she ever forgive you for standing her up on Sunday?”
“Yeah, I made her some fudge and she saw reason. She’s leaving tonight, you know. Probably on the road already. Going back to Boston to…” My train of thought derailed as I glimpsed a familiar face on the other side of the bar. “Hey! That’s Renée.”
Nick followed my gaze. “Renée?”
“Renée Schmidt. Erin’s mother-in-law. Well, her former…oh, you know what I mean.”
We stared at the willowy young brunette chatting with Renée.
“Who’s the chick in the green dress?” Nick asked. “Is that her daughter?”
“David’s an only child.” I strained to get a better look at Renée’s companion. “At least, I thought he was.”
“They look exactly alike,” Nick said. “Even their dresses look the same. What’s up with that?”
The younger woman did bear a striking resemblance to David’s mother. Same haircut, same ramrod posture, even the same shade of red lipstick.
“Maybe she figured out a way to go back in time and clone herself?” I suggested.
We got our answer two minutes later when David showed up, straightening his tie and stammering apologies about getting held up at the hospital. I couldn’t see his face, but from the way Old Renée was cooing and shoving him toward Young Renée, it was clear she had orchestrated a date.
“I can’t believe this,” I fumed. “Erin hasn’t even been gone two hours!”
“Bad form,” Nick agreed, watching David shake Young Renée’s limp, perfectly manicured hand.
“What a ho!”
Nick looked a little afraid of me. “Hey, maybe she doesn’t know about Erin—”
“Not her—him!”
“Oh.” He took a sip of his Jack and Coke. “Then yeah, pretty much.”
“Who the hell does he think he is, going out and having a
good time while Erin cries herself to sleep every night? And with someone who looks just like his mother, talk about sick—”
“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe that’s his cousin.”
I sat back in my chair and fumed. “Ugh. Disgusting, the whole thing.”
“Okay, just calm down—”
“I will not calm down! He lets Erin walk out of his life so his mom can be his pimp?”
Nick started to stroke my back soothingly. “It sucks, but it’s really not our business. Let’s just calm down and have a nice dinner.”
“I’m going over there.”
Nick clutched at the back of my blouse. “Do not go over there.”
But it was too late. I weaved and dodged through the crowd like an offensive lineman on heels.
I was three steps away from David when he started yelling.
“For the last time, Mother, I do not want to date anyone! I’m married!”
I froze, along with everyone else in the front half of the restaurant.
Renée toyed with her pearl pendant. “Now, David, stop being ridiculous. Kaitlyn is a lovely girl, and I know you two will get along famously once you get to know her.”
“I don’t want to get to know her!”
He turned to the shell-shocked brunette and murmured, “Sorry, nothing personal.”
“Lower your voice,” Renée admonished. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“
I’m
embarrassing
you
? The woman who springs a blind date on me with no warning?”
Kaitlyn tugged up the collar of her shirtdress and started edging toward the door, but Renée blocked her exit. “I’m not asking you to fall in love and propose tonight—although you could do a lot worse. Kaitlyn here is my protégée at the gardening club. She has a BA in horticulture, she’s an excellent cook, and she likes to golf, isn’t that right, dear?”
Kaitlyn smiled up at Renée with what looked like hero worship. “I’ve heard so much about you, David. You’re very lucky to have a mother like Renée.”
“Really?” David loosened his collar. “Did she tell you I’m married?”
“David, stop it this instant,” Renée commanded. “You’re not married. That woman left you high and dry, and I don’t want to hear another word about her.”
“Good night, Mom.” David spun on his heel and headed for the coat check.
Renée dug her fingers into his arm.
“Let go of me,” he bit out.
Her eyes widened at the steel in his tone, but she didn’t back down. “Don’t you talk to me that way. You’re going to sit
down and have a lovely dinner with us, and I don’t want any more arguments.”
I felt a pang of sympathy for Kaitlyn, who clearly would rather be facing down an amphitheater full of bloodthirsty lions.
“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” Kaitlyn—she really did look like Renée, the resemblance was eerie—cleared her throat. “I thought we were…I’m just gonna go.” And this time, she managed to slip away to the hostess stand.
“Are you happy now?” Renée snapped at her son. “You’ve ruined what could have been a delightful evening.”
“I didn’t ruin anything,” David said. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? You always have to cross the line.”
“I’m trying to make you happy. It’s time you moved on. Erin was never right for you. She was uppity, opinionated, contrary—”
“Has it ever occurred to you that I
like
uppity, opinionated, contrary women?”
“You’d be much happier with someone like Kaitlyn.”
“With someone like you, you mean. Whether you like it or not, Erin is my wife.”
“Well, she’s gone.” Renée’s smile was savage. “She gave up on you and went back to Boston. She didn’t want to fight for you.”
“She shouldn’t
have
to fight for me.” David’s frustration was almost palpable. “I should have fought for her.”
“She moved on,” Renée crowed. “It’s too late.”
“Actually,” I volunteered, “you only missed her by an hour.”
David finally noticed me. “Where?…”
“She just left for Boston,” I supplied. “She’s staying at her friend’s apartment. Simone, I think she said.”
“Thanks.” He bolted for the door.
Renée stumbled as she attempted to chase him down. “David, wait! You can’t do this!”
He looked her straight in the eye. “I want my wife back. I want my whole life back. And I want you out of our house.”
“You don’t mean that! Where will I go?”
“You’ll figure something out; you’re very resourceful.”
“But David, please, I’m your
mother—
”
He didn’t give her a chance to finish, didn’t even pick up his coat on the way out to the parking lot.
“I’ve got to call Erin!” I told Nick, whipping out my cell phone.
Nick sighed, all put-upon. “You’re distracted.”
“Uh, yeah. Biggest scandal of the season just went down ten feet away from us.”
“But I wanted to talk about something important at dinner.”
“We will; don’t worry.” I turned my back on him as Erin’s voice mail clicked on. “Hey, it’s me. Heads up; you’ll never guess what just happened. Think Mothra versus Godzilla. Call me back!”
Ten minutes later, I was ready to resume my date but Nick, still waiting for a table, was doing a slow burn.
“This was supposed to be our night. I made all these big plans, and everything’s gone to hell.”
“Nothing’s gone to hell.” I glanced at the digital clock on my cell phone screen. “Do you think David is on the turnpike yet?”
“I don’t want to talk about David.” He raked his hands through his hair, his eyes wild. “We’re supposed to be talking about us. You. Me. Who cares about Erin and David?”