Single in Suburbia (26 page)

Candace rolled her eyes. Her stomach rolled too. “She liked his pedigree and his bank account. I have to admit Nathan looked very good on paper.” It was just in everyday life that he didn’t stack up. Candace considered the remains of the shrimp salad on her plate. “Does anyone else feel queasy?”

Cindy and Sharon had both had the shrimp salad but shook their heads no.

Candace pushed the plate away and the discomfort from her mind. Everything she ate seemed to disagree with her lately. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I want to get married again.”

There was a shocked silence.

“But your mother said…”

Sharon shot Bootsie a look, which confirmed Candace’s suspicions. Then she held a palm to Candace’s forehead. “You do feel a little bit warm. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“She’s just been in the burbs too long; it’s not a target rich environment,” Cindy added. “That can seriously lower your expectations.”

They all laughed. Or at least the three of them did. Candace bristled. “Actually, I’m kind of starting to like it where I am,” she said. “And I’m already dating someone.” She waited a beat and then called their bluff. “Did my mother mention that when she asked you to call me?”

The sudden silence was answer enough.

“He’s a really great guy who Hannah has decided is not husband material.”

“Oh?” Bootsie recovered first. “What does he do?”

“He’s an accountant.”

“Well that should be a plus in Hannah’s book. Which firm is he with?” Sharon asked. “Maybe Steve knows him.” Her current husband was a managing partner at Ernst & Young.

“He has his own firm, a small general practice,” Candace replied.

The sympathy in their eyes rankled and she felt a fresh flash of irritation. She was not going to apologize to them or anyone else for dating Dan Donovan.

For a moment she toyed with telling them about Dan’s Irish heritage and his dedication to the losing Mudhens. They’d laugh themselves silly about her stints in the concession stand and gasp in horror if she told them about Maid for You and her new friends who dressed up like French maids and cleaned other people’s houses.

It would be kind of fun to see their expressions of shock and horror. But even as her stomach rolled again, she knew she could never offer up the people she’d come to care about and admire for anyone’s entertainment. Or even to make a point.

A part of Candace wanted to march over to her mother’s and tell her that her machinations weren’t working; that giving birth didn’t entitle her to choose Candace’s friends or husbands. Instead she turned the conversation. Soon everyone was chatting amiably enough. But it wasn’t long before Candace’s mind began to wander. The recent designer trunk show at Neimen’s and the upcoming spa trip the other three were planning seemed considerably less compelling to Candace than Amanda’s struggle for survival and Brooke’s attempt to come to grips with the identity she’d created for herself.

Candace’s stomach rolled again and she realized with some surprise that she was eager to get back to her house in the suburbs; the place she had somehow come to think of as home.

“Well,” Bootsie said as she signaled for the check. “I am just filled with admiration for the way you’ve adjusted to your new environment.”

“Why thank you, Bootsie,” Candace replied as she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. “The challenges have at times seemed insurmountable, but somehow I’ve soldiered on.”

At home that afternoon, Amanda retrieved the mail from the mailbox and trudged up the driveway sorting through it as she went. All she had received were bills, bills, and what looked like still more bills. Which she sincerely wished she could mark “return to sender.”

In the kitchen she poured herself a glass of iced tea and carried the phone to the kitchen table so that she could sit and check messages.

The only message was from Rob. “Hi, Amanda.” His voice was friendlier than she’d heard it in a long time. “I was thinking about popping by to see the kids.” There was a pause. “And, uh, then I thought maybe I could take you out to dinner to, um, catch up a little.” A rueful tone moved into his voice. “I think I have one credit card that’s still usable.” There was a long pause. “Don’t worry about calling me back. I’ll just stop over at about seven if that’s OK.”

Thinking about Rob’s call, Amanda watched what looked like a family of squirrels race up and down the limbs of the crepe myrtle outside. There were only three of them; a mother, she imagined, looking out for her two children. Maybe the father squirrel had also had a midlife crisis and was currently living in another tree, gathering nuts with a more bushy tailed squirrelette.

Restless, Amanda showered and dressed and popped a frozen pizza in the oven for Meghan and Wyatt. She didn’t mention their father’s call in case he didn’t actually show up, but at seven there was a rap on the kitchen door and Rob walked into the kitchen.

“Dad!” Wyatt jumped up and threw his arms around his father.

Meghan startled and a smile lit her face but was gone just as quickly. Her anger was an equal opportunity emotion. Although she blamed Amanda for driving her father away, she also blamed him for leaving. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you guys and take your mother out for dinner.”

“You did?” Wyatt’s face lit with excitement.

“You are?” Meghan couldn’t pull off her usual tone of feigned indifference.

Amanda leveled a gaze at Rob, which he blithely ignored. She wasn’t sure if he had any idea of what his words were now conjuring. At this point even Meghan was picturing him moving back in and their old life slipping back into place.

She gave all three of them a pointed look. “We’re just going to eat a meal. Don’t go turning it into something it’s not.”

Rob winked at Meghan and Wyatt. Winked!

Doing a slow burn, Amanda kissed the kids good-bye and grabbed her purse. “Do your homework. No TV. And no talking on the phone until it’s all done.”

Meghan and Wyatt were too busy imagining things to argue. This was not good.

She managed to hold her tongue until they got to the restaurant, a small neighborhood Italian place they’d often come to as a family.

“
Buona sera,
Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan. How nice to see you again!” Guillermo, one of the owners, led them to a table near the window. “It’s been much too long!”

Rob ordered glasses of Chianti and they perused the menu in silence. When they’d given their orders, Amanda looked her husband in the eye. “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”

He seemed surprised by her question and the anger simmering beneath it. “I just wanted a chance to see how you were doing, how the kids are.”

“Is that right?”

“Um-hmm.”

“Well, let’s see,” she said, fingering the stem of her wineglass. “I have a stack of bills in the kitchen I’m afraid to open because I already can’t pay the ones I did look at. I’m working on a…project…with Candace Sugarman to try to create income, but I’m not sure I can ever generate enough.

“Wyatt’s so worried he can’t pitch anymore and he’s become so solicitous that every sweet thing he does breaks my heart or makes me feel guilty. Meghan’s hormones and anger are running rampant and I’m never sure whether I’m going to encounter the good Meghan or her evil twin. And I think giving them any thought that we can ever be more than civil to each other is grossly unfair and unkind.”

“Wow,” Rob said. “You don’t pull any punches anymore, do you?” He looked at her more closely. “You’ve really changed.”

“Being abandoned, penniless, and left responsible for two children will do that to a woman.”

She tore a piece of bread from the loaf and dipped it into the plate of seasoned olive oil. Her mouth moved in a chewing motion and she swallowed, but for all the pleasure she derived from it, it might as well have been cardboard. “So,” she asked, “how are things with you?”

He sipped his wine. When he spoke he didn’t quite look her in the eye. “I don’t think I’m going to find another law firm to take me on. Even the smaller practices don’t want me. I do have an offer from a commercial real estate company that I’m considering. Whatever I do isn’t going to produce serious income for some time.”

More good news. “Why are we having dinner tonight, Rob? What’s the point?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to see you. I guess when things get hard you turn to the people who know you the best.”

She laughed at the irony. “It’s funny that you say that, because lately I’ve been wondering whether I ever really knew you at all.”

Their entrees came and although everything smelled heavenly, she had no appetite. She would have thought cleaning two houses a day and running after two children would have guaranteed her a spot in the clean plate club, but sitting across a table from Rob was unsettling.

“Where’s Tiffany tonight?” she asked as casually as she could.

“She went out with some of her old friends.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think the suburban lifestyle is quite what she was expecting.” His smile was pained.

Amanda didn’t speak, but she practically held her breath waiting to see what would come next.

“Are you dating Hunter James?” he asked. “I saw him at the ballpark with you and Wyatt says he’s helping him with his pitching.”

“I think you gave up the right to ask me that when you moved out,” Amanda said quietly. She was trying mightily to maintain her calm, but the anger continued to bubble underneath. “And I think you should be glad that a pitcher of his caliber is willing to work with your son.”

“Oh, I am.” His voice dropped. “I guess I’m just really realizing how much I’ve given up.” The look of regret in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Oh, Rob.” She heard a matching regret in her voice and knew a weariness that had nothing to do with the houses she’d cleaned. “I wish to hell you’d taken the time to think before you went chasing off after a new life.” She took the napkin off her lap and set it on the table, knowing she couldn’t eat another bite.

“Meghan and Wyatt and I are trying to get on with ours. If you want to spend more time with them or help in some way, I’m all for it. But don’t go messing with our heads.” Lifting her purse from the floor beside her feet, she set it in her lap, eager now to leave. “When you have something specific you want to say to me, I’ll listen. But don’t waste my time and upset the kids with any more…exploratory missions.”

chapter
23

S
olange was dusting the banister outside Hunter James’s home office Tuesday morning when her cell phone vibrated. Pulling the phone from her pocket, she glanced at the caller ID. The name Hunter James scrolled across the front of it.

A glance over her shoulder confirmed he was at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his ankles crossed on the mahogany desktop, a phone pressed to his ear.

Looking up, he caught her staring at him and smiled. Covering the mouthpiece of his phone, he asked, “Do you need to get in here, Solange?”

The phone vibrated in her hand.

“Um, no,
monsieur
. I, uh…” She took a step to her side. “I, um,
non,
not now.” A few more steps took her out of his line of sight, but it didn’t stop her phone from vibrating. Not sure what to do, she speed-walked to the laundry room, pulled the bifold door closed behind her, and squeezed into the corner next to Fido’s bed. “Hello?” she said into the phone.

“Hi, Amanda. It’s Hunter.”

“Oh, hi.” She tried to keep her voice down and sound normal at the same time.

“I can barely hear you,” he said. “You sound muffled. Almost like you were in a tunnel or a…closet…or something.”

Her gaze flew to the laundry room door, but it was still closed. She didn’t think there was anyone in the kitchen, but she couldn’t be positive. The washing machine next to her kicked into the spin cycle. Something loud thudded as it was tossed in the dryer.

“I must be in a bad reception area.” She felt totally stupid scrunched in a corner of a laundry room talking to someone a room away.

“What’s that noise?” The washer whirred beside her. The dryer thumped.

“I, uh…I’m in a…” If she was going to continue leading a double life, she was going to have to learn to lie faster. “Laundromat,” she said. “My, uh, washing machine broke down and I brought the wash here.”

“Isn’t that funny?” he said. “Solange is doing our laundry right now. Do you want to bring yours over?”

Right. Then she could hand herself her own laundry. Hearing footsteps in the kitchen, Amanda burrowed deeper into the corner. She did not want to be discovered in this ridiculous position, definitely did not want him to learn her secret while she cowered in his laundry room. “No, um, I’m fine, thanks,” she said.

The dryer shuddered to a stop and the buzzer that announced the end of the cycle went off. She wondered how long it would take him to notice that the sounds he was hearing through his office wall were the same ones he was hearing through the receiver of his phone. “So, um, did you need something?” she asked.

“I just wanted to see if there’s anything else we need for the party. You know, like armed guards to keep the boys and girls at a safe distance from each other. Or ‘do not touch’ signs for the girls to hang around their necks.”