Read Nothing But Trouble Online

Authors: Bettye Griffin

Nothing But Trouble (10 page)

God, he was cheap
. “So what do we do? Just stay here? All nine of us?”
“See if you can find a place big enough for one-fifty. I won't go higher.” Michael laid back and pulled the covers over him, his back to her, making the silent statement that he was through.
Cécile reached for the remote control and snapped off the television, then laid down and punched her pillows. How the hell was she supposed to find a reasonably large four-bedroom house for less than one hundred and fifty thousand dollars? Five or ten years ago she could have, but not now. Michael had set an impossible goal, and he was prepared to stay right here when she couldn't satisfy his wishes. Tears sprang to her eyes. It wasn't fair. All Michael saw was a well-organized home. He didn't realize how hard she had to work to make it so. She'd done her job too well.
She had another reason to be upset. His accusation about her pregnancy really stung. She knew that plenty of women deliberately stopped birth control, thinking a baby could salvage failing marriages or hold on to a man who was about to bolt, but she wasn't one of them. She couldn't help it if she got pregnant so easily. The only baby she'd actually been happy about initially was her eldest, Josie. After her relationship with Louis began to deteriorate, she'd been disappointed to learn she was carrying Gaby, and devastated later when she got pregnant with Eleith.
But she loved them all, just as she'd love this new baby.
Chapter 10
D
ana wrapped up her workweek Friday afternoon, then looked in her closet to see what she might be able to wear for her date tomorrow with Sean. She knew they were going to dinner, but she wished she knew where. She didn't want to dress for someplace nice, like the Hilltop or River City Brewing, if they were going to a more casual setting, like The Outback or Clark's Fish Camp.
She ultimately decided on an ankle-grazing maroon paisley skirt. She could pair it with a casual top, and flats or low-heeled mules, and be dressed appropriately for any restaurant.
After dinner she spent a few hours in her office proofreading reports for CDN. There was enough work on the system for her to transcribe if she wanted to, but she felt too jumpy and nervous to attempt it. As she read she used extra care, not wanting any errors to slip by. She could hear Brittany talking and laughing on the phone. Her daughter sounded so happy. Dana wondered how her news would affect Brittany's mood. She hadn't told her yet about her date, and she intended to put it off as long as she could.
She turned at the sound of Brittany's knock. “Hi!” she said, swiveling her chair so that it faced the doorway.
“Hi, Mom. Can I go skating tomorrow?”
“Where and who with?”
“At the rink in Mandarin with Nikki and Shanequa. Shanequa's mother is gonna pick us up and bring us back.”
“In the afternoon?”
Brittany made a face. “With all those little kids? Nah. They have a teen session from eight to midnight. But Shanequa's mother is going to pick us up at ten-thirty. She says that's late enough for us to be out.”
“I agree with her. Technically, you're not even teenagers yet.”
“I can go, then?”
“Uh, no.”
“Why not, Mom?”
Dana had been dreading this moment. She'd hoped to put it off until tomorrow afternoon. “Because I've arranged for you to stay over at Norell's tomorrow night. I made some plans to go out, and you can't stay at home alone.”
“But why can't you get Tina to stay here? That way I can still go skating, and if you're not here yet when I get home she'll be here.”
“Because Tina's mother won't want her to stay here alone at night. She's a babysitter, not a housesitter.”
“Okay, so I won't go skating. I'll just stay home with Tina. It'll be better than going out to Miss Norell's. What would I do there?”
“No, Brittany.”
“Why not?”
Dana sighed. “Because ... Brittany ... I don't want you to be shocked or anything, but ... I'm going on a date tomorrow night.” She studied her daughter's expression carefully, anxious to see her first reaction, which she knew would be the honest one, no matter what Brittany said afterward.
“A date?” Brittany asked. “With a man?”
“Um, yeah.” Dana's tone was tentative. “That's why you'll have to go to Norell's tomorrow. I think it would be best if I keep you away from my social life.”
Brittany's face puckered. “But you just went out Wednesday. Are you gonna be going out all the time now, sending me off to Miss Cécile's and Miss Norell's so I won't be in the way?”
Dana's heart wrenched. “No, honey,” she said gently. She reached for Brittany's hand and squeezed it. “Please don't feel like you're in the way. You're never, ever in the way. No one means more to me than you. This week has been very social for me, but it's not going to be a regular thing, I promise. I'm a little old to be hanging out every night.” She looked at her daughter, whose eyes had the sad look of a wounded puppy. “Britt? Your thoughts?”
“Since you want to know how I feel, does that mean you won't go if I say I don't want you to?”
“No, it doesn't,” Dana replied, realizing too late how sharp she sounded. In a gentler tone she added, “Look, Britt, I know this is strange and new and a little scary. It is to me, too. But we have to face the fact that Daddy's gone. He's not coming back. I miss him terribly, but there has to be more to my life than work. I've worked very hard these last months, and now that things are a little easier I'd like to relax a little and have some fun. I'm not getting any younger, you know.”
“I want you to have fun, Mom,” Brittany said, and Dana waited for the “but” she knew would follow.
“I just don't want you to bring home a new daddy for me,” Brittany concluded.
Dana's mouth fell open, but nothing came out. She had known Brittany had something else to say, but her statement was the absolute last thing she'd expected to hear. “I think you're putting the cart before the horse,” she replied dryly. “You can rest assured that I'm only going out to dinner, not to the chapel.”
 
 
Sean arrived promptly. A suddenly shy Dana greeted him and took her keys and purse. She double latched the door, and when she turned she almost stopped breathing at the first sight of Kenny's old white Eclipse sitting in the driveway, like Kenny had come home after being away for close to a year.
It's Sean's car now
, she told herself repeatedly as she walked toward it on leaden legs.
If Sean noticed her nervousness he didn't comment on it. He seated her inside, and she closed her eyes briefly while he walked around to the other side, opening them as he got in the driver's seat.
It's just initial shock. I'm all right now.
Sean drove to Interstate 95 and headed south. “There's a good German restaurant in Saint Augustine,” he said. “I learned to like German food while I was in the Army. Of course, if you don't care for German cuisine there's plenty of other places. Seafood, Italian, steak... .”
“I've never had German food, but I like trying new things, so that's fine.” Now that she was inside the car she found it much easier to forget its history, and she actually felt relaxed.
Sean had the radio set to an easy-listening station, and he amazed Dana by knowing all the words to Don McLean's seventies pop classic
American Pie
. “I've always loved that song,” he said after the last chorus.
“Not one of my favorites,” Dana responded a little dubiously. She only tuned in to that particular station when she couldn't find anything else to listen to. Rock music could be just as insulting to her ears as rap, but at least this station didn't play anything that sounded like an acid trip. Among her favorites were that Steve Miller song about the space cowboy known as
The Joker
and Fleetwood Mac's
Dreams
. Both tunes had sentimental roots; she and her sister Gail used to sing them when they were young. While she felt it was sweet of Sean to share his taste in music with her, she didn't feel like telling him about Gail and her tragic fate. “But you sang it very nicely,” she added, wanting to be polite.
“Thanks. I listen to this station a lot, or the jazz station, which is more likely to be playing something by Luther than real jazz. Today's music is garbage. Occasionally they'll play something from back in the day on the R&B station, but I don't like listening to all those remakes of songs that were done better the first time out.”
“I'm with you on that one. If I had any talent for songwriting I'd make a fortune. Scriptwriting, too, for that matter, since no one seems to be able to come up with anything original there, either.”
At the restaurant Sean suggested she try Jaeger schnitzel, which she enjoyed. They had dinner to a background of live accordion music. Dana chuckled when two young girls, apparently sisters, got on the floor and danced the Macarena. She recognized the steps but never would have recognized the theme music; to Dana everything the man played on that accordion sounded like
The Third Man Theme
.
They began with impersonal topics of conversation, but eventually turned to their marriages. Dana admitted that Kenny's shortage of insurance protection had led to some hard times for her, but, wanting to end on an upbeat note, added that she'd taken steps to improve her lot and things were much better now. Sean confided that he and his wife's constant arguments led to his moving out. “It's very difficult to blend when one party has kids,” he remarked, “and she has two sons, neither of whom are crazy about me.”
What'd you do, slug one of 'em?
She suppressed a smile at her private thought. “I guess it can be. Two of my friends recently married men with kids, and fortunately everything seems to be working out for both of them. And who knows, the two of you might still be able to work it out.” She wanted to keep things light, to let him know it was okay for him to still be married, that she wasn't expecting anything from him.
Sean shrugged. “We'll see.” Then he said, “Come on, let's dance.”
“You're kidding. To
this
?”
“Sure. We can do a two-step.”
Laughing, Dana got to her feet.
They listened to the oldies station again on the way home, singing along with people like Martha and the Vandellas and Paul Revere and the Raiders, old songs Dana didn't even realize she knew the words to. At her door Sean placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her oh-so-briefly, teasing her with his tongue and leaving her breathless ... and more aware than ever of what she was missing. “Good night, Dana,” he said. “We'll do it again soon, huh?”
“I'd like that. Good night, Sean.”
Chapter 11
O
nce upstairs in her bedroom, Dana dialed Norell's number. Brittany had brightened up when she learned that Vic's daughters would be at Norell's, but Dana wanted to check on her and make sure all was well.
One of Vic's daughters answered; Dana didn't know which one. “Hi, this is Dana,” she said. “Is Brittany around?”
“Oh, hi, Miss Dana. This is Amber. I'll get her for you.”
Brittany's voice came over the line within seconds. “Hi, Mom!”
“Hi, sweetie. I just wanted to let you know I'm home and ask if you're having a good time.”
“You're home kind of early. Didn't you have a nice time?”
Dana found Brittany's concern for her touching. “Yes, actually I did. But it doesn't take that long to have dinner, even with driving down to Saint Augustine and back. What about you? What are you doing?”
“I went to the movies with Jessica and Amber. We ate at Panera Bread while we were out. Now we're just watching TV.”
“Are you having fun?”
“Oh, yeah. Did you want to talk to Miss Norell?”
Dana could hear laughter in the background. She guessed that Brittany was anxious to get back to the girls and therefore wanted to pass her off to Norell. She didn't mind. Brittany's happiness counted more than anything else. “Sure.”
She waited for a long minute or two before Norell picked up. “Hi!”
“Hi. I hope I'm not calling at a bad time,” Dana said.
“I've got a few minutes. We're entertaining Rodney and Karen.”
“Oh.” Dana knew Norell didn't care for the company of the woman who remained a good friend of Vic's first wife. “We can always talk in the morning.”
“No, I'm dying to hear all about it. I told them I might be a few minutes. They know your daughter is here. They probably assume you're just calling to check on her.”
“She seems to be enjoying herself.”
“Yes, she likes being with the girls. But back to you and Sean.”
Dana chuckled. She moved into a reclining position in the center of her bed, bent one knee and rested her other ankle on it. “Okay. We went down to Saint Augustine and had German food.”
“German food! Like bratwurst and sauerkraut?”
“Actually, Jaeger schnitzel and spaetzel. Apparently Sean did a hitch in the Army and spent some time over there. It was good, but kind of heavy. I'll bet there's a ton of overweight people over there.
“Anyway,” Dana continued, “There was this man there playing the accordion. The music was terrible—think Lawrence Welk—but we danced, and it was kinda nice, actually.”
“Did he kiss you?”
Just thinking about it made Dana flash her teeth. Norell couldn't see her, of course, but she picked up on the silence.
“Ooh!” she squealed. “Tell me about it.”
“It was just a kiss, Norell. Brief and to the point. And I enjoyed every second.” She added softly, “It's been a long time for me.”
“I take it that means you'll be seeing him again.”
“He made me feel good, Norell. So feminine. Being with him made me realize that Kenny had gotten lazy about things he always used to do for me, like put me in the car or hold my hand.”
“So are you telling me that when Vic and I have been married for fifteen years, he won't treat me quite the same as he does now?”
“I don't think it's deliberate,” Dana said hastily. “I think men just get comfortable with their wives and unconsciously get a little lazy.”
“I'm glad you had a good time, honey.”
“Thanks. I know you are. Norell, this may sound ridiculous, but I've already decided I'm going to sleep with him.”
“That doesn't sound ridiculous to me. But I was single a lot longer than you were. Sometimes one date is all it takes to know. And sometimes I didn't wait until the second date to do it.”
“Well, I don't know about that, but I do need some sexual release. After that he can go back to his wife for all I care.”
“Hold up,” Norell said abruptly. “His wife? He's
married
?”
“They're separated. Apparently some friction between him and his wife's kids. Unless there's more to it than that, it shouldn't be too hard to patch up. But in the meantime I'll take him if she doesn't want him.” Dana paused, conscious of the silence on the other end of the line. “I take it you don't approve.”
Norell didn't speak right away. “Why don't we talk tomorrow?” she finally suggested.
Dana had a sudden flashback of her mother ominously saying “Just wait till your father gets home” after she'd broken something or misbehaved as a child. “All right. Thanks for listening, Norell. I'll be out tomorrow to pick up Brittany.”
Norell slowly replaced the receiver. Married! Bad enough that Sean drove the car that had once belonged to Kenny, but he had a wife to boot. Dana must truly be desperate to be willing to overlook so much. The whole thing made her feel a little queasy. She slowly returned to the living room to join the others.
Then again, maybe her queasiness came from vodka. She'd been quietly refilling her glass all night. It was the only way she could cope with Karen Weathers.
Norell always found these evenings difficult. Vic's friend Rodney was all right, but Karen, his wife, was a good friend of Phyllis's, and Norell could tell she resented Vic's divorcing Phyllis and then marrying someone a dozen years younger. Karen often steered the conversation to events that had occurred years before, effectively shutting Norell out.
As ticked off as Norell got at Karen's maneuvers whenever they were thrown together, tonight it was worse. Children were the main topic of conversation. Rodney and Karen had three sons, two of whom still lived at home. Norell gathered from the conversation that they were having difficulty motivating the youngest one, who at fifteen was flunking math and barely passing English and history. She sat quietly, smoking cigarette after cigarette and sipping drink after drink, as Vic recounted the difficulty he had had with his own son, who had lived with him during high school and college, and how he'd handled it.
“Kids,” Karen said with a sigh. Then she flashed a sly grin, showing incisors that were too long and gave her the appearance of being part canine. “So,” she said, for once including Norell in the conversation, “do you two plan on shopping for diapers anytime soon?”
“No,” Norell replied tightly. Karen's sweet expression hadn't fooled her. She knew the innocent-sounding query masked a malicious intent. Vic must have confided in Rodney her fertility woes, who in turn shared them with Karen. The scenario infuriated her. Just wait till she got Vic alone.
“I'm too old to have a kid in diapers,” Vic said easily. “People would think I'm the grandfather.”
Norell, determined not to let Karen's deviousness get the better of her, calmly leaned back in her chair and took another swig.
At the end of the evening Norell felt mellow enough to bid the Weatherses good night with genuine warmth. She enjoyed Karen's frown as she hugged Rodney and kissed his cheek in farewell.
What is she, scared that maybe I'll try to steal her man, even if he's Vic's best buddy?
Norell slipped into a sheer, ice blue chemise-style nightgown with dark blue satin piping. She brushed her side-parted tawny locks out becomingly around her shoulders. Impulsively she began taking large pinches of various areas of her body. Her stomach, which got most of her attention in workouts, was firm and flat. But she frowned when she noted soft spots on her upper arms. It was time to work on that area. She still remembered her eleventh grade English teacher, Mrs. McNulty, whose inside upper arms shook like Jell-O whenever she wrote on the blackboard. Norell vowed to begin working on her arms next week. Right now there was another exercise she had in mind.
 
 
Norell, on her knees, clutched the brass love knot headboard tightly. She straddled Vic's head and rotated her pelvis from front to back. She could stay here and let him lick her all night long. Well, maybe not
all
night. Her knees felt like they'd give out any minute, and wouldn't that be something? “Woman Collapses and Suffocates Husband During Oral Sex,” the headline would read.
Only her pending climax kept her from laughing out loud.
“I want you to do something for me,” Vic said after they laid on their respective sides of the bed, trying to cool off and catch their breath.
“I'm not getting up, Vic. Whatever it is you want, you'll have to get it yourself.”
“No, I don't want something to drink. I did something I shouldn't have done, and I don't want you to be angry with me.”
“What'd you do?” Norell asked, although she knew what he was about to confess.
“I mentioned our situation to Rodney. I told him to keep it between us, but the minute Karen asked if we planned to have kids, I knew he'd told her about it. I'm sorry, Norell. Rodney's been my buddy since high school. If I can't talk to him, who can I talk to?”
“Vic, why you always tell me somethin' tha's gonna make me mad right after we have sex?” Her words came out slightly slurred.
He chuckled. “I'm no fool. I'm hoping you'll be feeling too good to want to fight.”
She squeezed his hand. “I do'n wanna fight, either. I jus' wanna go to sleep. G'night.” She closed her eyes, and within minutes was fast asleep, like she'd just received an anesthetic.
Vic covered his sleeping wife. He wasn't surprised to see how quickly she had knocked out. When he straightened out the wet bar after Rodney and Karen left, he'd been shocked to see that Norell had put away a third of a bottle of Smirnoff. She hadn't said ten words the rest of the night after her terse response to Karen's question about their plans for children; she'd merely relaxed in her chair and appeared to be enjoying the conversation and background music, her eyes becoming heavy lidded. He'd caught the mischievous glint in Karen's eye when she'd asked if they planned to start a family, and expected Norell to give him grief for telling Karen about her problem the minute they were alone, even if it had actually been Rodney he'd confided in. Now he knew she was mellow because she'd been quietly getting sloshed, and it wasn't the first time. Just a few nights ago she'd come home blitzed after she'd been out with her girlfriends.
Vic didn't know how to handle the situation. Surely Norell's reason for hitting the bottle like this was her unhappiness about being unable to conceive. Back when they were dating, she confided in him that she'd found herself depending on alcohol to help ease the pain of her mother's death and the financial problems she experienced after her emergency appendectomy. As they grew closer, her drinking slowed to a drip, but once again she found herself in a painful situation. If something didn't give, his wife would become a lush. He'd hoped that going into business with Dana and Cécile would keep her busy enough to forget about having a baby, but while CDN Transcription was a priority for her, he knew she still hurt.
Vic also felt more than a little guilty because he really hadn't wanted another child. They'd talked about having kids before they got married, and he said yes only because he knew it was what she wanted. One of the reasons Norell had been so attractive to him was that she'd already been told it would be difficult for her to conceive. Vic liked the idea of a younger—but not too young—still-shapely wife who was completely unencumbered and who would make him and his two younger children the center of her universe. He barely had in-laws, since Norell's brother was on a ship somewhere halfway across the world and lived on a base in San Diego when he was in port.
The perfect situation Vic pounced on now faced a major threat, for if Norell continued to drink like this, she would only ruin her health and her looks. He didn't stay with Phyllis when she'd let herself go, and they had been married for a long time. He wouldn't be staying with Norell, either, if she started getting all puffy from drinking too much, but damned if he wouldn't do everything possible to prevent that from happening. Maybe he'd gingerly broach the subject of her going into therapy to cope with the depression that made her crave alcohol.

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