An Ex to Grind (35 page)

"She'll be just a few more minutes," said Taylor, Desiree's assistant. It was eleven-thirty the next morning.

I'd been waiting to see Madam Matchmaker since eleven and didn't appreciate having to sit there staring at the ceiling, but then I didn't exactly have anyplace else to go.

"Is there someone in her office or is she out buying more fuzzy slippers?" I said.

"Slippers? She's with a client," Taylor said indignantly. She, unlike Steffi, was loyal to her boss. "But I'm sure she'll—"

At that moment, Lynda Fox, queen of the LPGA tour and member of the Heart Hunting for Exes club, emerged from
Desiree's office looking a lot more upbeat than the last time I'd seen her. I figured she must have stopped by to leaf through the files of potential cohabitors and/or new spouses for her ex-husband.

I walked over to her as she was making her way toward the door and touched her forearm, which was the size of my thigh. Well, she was a professional athlete. It was her job to take steroids.

"Hey," she said, yanking the arm away, as if I were some toady autograph seeker. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to save you from making a big mistake," I said, then lowered my voice. "Take it from me. You don't want to fix up your ex with one of Desiree's A-listers so you can dodge the alimony."

She raised her eyebrows. "Who said that's why I'm here?"

"Look, I'm the one who came up with the idea, okay? My ex is Traffic Dan Swain, the football player. I set him up with Desiree's A-plus client, and now I'm sorry I did, because he's marrying her."

Her brows relaxed, and she grinned, slapping me on the back with such force that I nearly fell over. "That's great. You screwed him on the money, so what the hell are you complaining about?"

"I still love him," I said, feeling the tears well up. I hadn't cried all morning, but I knew the dry spell wouldn't last. "I realized it after I'd already set him up."

"Too bad, but I don't love my ex, so I have nothing to worry about," she said. "I can't stand the sight of him, if you want the truth. Every time he shows up to visit the kids in his new clothes and new shoes and new car, I wanna strangle him."

"I used to feel that way, but I learned that money isn't everything."

Huh? Had I just said that? Or were my sinuses so blocked up with sob snot that I wasn't thinking straight?

"What planet have you been living on, honey?" said Lynda Fox. "Women didn't get this far only to hand over half of everything to men. That's not what Gloria Steinem fought for."

"Maybe it is," I said. "Maybe sexual equality means sexual equality for both sexes."

Had I really just said
that
?

She backed away from me as if I'd sprouted a penis. "You need to get your priorities straight," she said, joining the chorus.

"They're getting straighter all the time," I said. "You're the one who should rethink what you're doing. You could end up losing more than your tournament winnings."

"You remind me of my friend Margery Pinckney the way you're pining for your ex," she said. "She was married to a chiropractor—they had five kids, one of them a Rhodes scholar, another one doing ten years for armed robbery—and she divorced him. Mostly because of the problems with the kid who went to jail. Anyhow, her ex remarried and had a child with his new wife, and Margery was all by herself, regretting her decision to walk out. She was so depressed that she had her tongue pierced. A nice diamond stud, but still. It interfered with her ability to eat, and she became anorexic."

I stared at Lynda, amazed by her lack of sensitivity. Once again she had prattled on about people whose personal business was entirely their own. What a blabbermouth.

"So," she said, as if to sum up, "unlike you and Margery, I don't want my ex-husband back."

"I get it," I said and stepped aside so she could leave.

When it was my turn with Desiree, who was in a brunette wig and weighed down by enough gold chokers to literally choke her, I told her about Dan's engagement. She'd already heard an earful about it from Leah, of course, but I put my own spin on the story by crying throughout it.

"Take it easy," she said as I reached into my purse for yet another pocket pack of Kleenex. I'd gone through a case of them. "I had a feeling this would happen."

"That they'd get married or that I'd want Dan back?"

"That they'd get married, that you'd want Dan back, and that you'd be stuck having to pay me even though you ended up miserable."

"Maybe you should have been a fortune-teller instead of a matchmaker," I said sourly.

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"If you're going to tell me to get my priorities straight, I'll scream."

"I was gonna tell you to wash your hair. You look like hell."

"It's been a tough time, Desiree. I'm deeply despondent."

"Then I'll give you the same advice I give all my clients. If you want to attract a member of the opposite sex, you have to take stock of your appearance."

My jaw dropped. Attract a member of the opposite sex? Hadn't she been listening? "I'm not one of your clients," I said. "Not like the others, anyway."

"Didn't you just tell me you wanted Dan back? It all starts with that first date. You have to look your best for it."

"What are you talking about?" I said. "He's engaged to Leah. Helloooo?"

"Melanie, Melanie, Melanie." She sighed. "Have you forgotten that one of the services Desiree Klein Heart Hunting provides is love coaching? I spent enough time coaching Leah in how to get Dan to commit, didn't I?"

"So?"

"So now you need coaching in how to get him to come back to you."

I blinked at her, hoping she'd disappear and that my entire experience with her would turn out to be a figment of my imagination, sort of like Dorothy in
The Wizard of Oz
. Desiree, it seemed to me then, was a cross between the wizard and the wicked witch, with a munchkin thrown in.

"You'd sell her out to help me?" I said.

"I'm not selling anybody out," she said. "I'm offering you the benefit of my years of love coaching, that's all. You want it or not?"

What did I have to lose? I was desperate. "Why not."

"Fine. Here it is. If Dan really loves Leah, then there's nothing you can do to change that. But if he's on the fence even just a little, you've got a shot."

"Asking her to marry him doesn't sound like he's on the fence," I said.

"You never heard of broken engagements?"

"Yes, but—"

" 'But' nothing. I'm not advising you to steal him from Leah. I'm not 'selling her out,' as you put it. I'm only telling you to see if there's any fence sitting going on—any window of opportunity."

"And how do I do that?"

"Knock on the window. See if anyone's home."

"Please." I rolled my eyes. She was as crazy as she was corrupt.

"Fight for him, Melanie. Stop all the hysterics and just go tell him how you feel. Even if he gives you the boot, you'll be no worse off than you are right now."

She did have a point. I couldn't sink any lower. Or so I thought.

"Go," she urged. "Play it out one last time. At least you'll know for sure where you stand."

I got up from my chair, dabbing at my eyes with the tissue. "Thanks, but I still wish I'd never met you."

"No one twisted your arm to walk in here and throw money at me," she pointed out. "It was your idea to play God with Dan's life, not mine."

"I just pray he never finds out," I said.

"Why should he? Who's gonna tell him?"

Who indeed.

I went home to wash my hair. Well, it wasn't the worst advice Desiree had given me, especially since I was competing with Leah, the hair goddess. I iced my face too, trying to deflate the tires I'd grown on my eyelids. And then I put on some jeans and a sweater and called Dan. I asked if I could come over and see Buster right away. He said I could. I asked if he would be there. He said he thought so but that Isa would let me in if he had to run out. I asked if he could make sure he'd be there, because I had something I wanted to discuss with him. He said it sounded serious. I said it was.

The stage was set. I gave myself one last check in my hall mirror and off I went, prepared to either win back my ex or accept my fate and concede victory to Leah.

"So, what do you think of the big news?" said Ricardo when I entered my old building. "Bet you never in a million years figured Mr. Swain would marry the caretaker."

"No, I never did," I said, stating the obvious.

"Guess the insurance company won't have to worry about her showing up every night." He laughed. "She took such good care of him that he can't live without her, huh?"

"Seems that way," I said. I had hoped to avoid having this conversation with Ricardo, but, as I knew all too well, he never left his post and, therefore, could never be avoided.

"Maybe I'll give them your notebook for a wedding present," he said. "As a token of how the romance began, you know?"

The notebook. Oh, God. It was incriminating evidence and could never fall into Dan's hands. I instructed Ricardo to hand it over to me immediately. I told him
I
would be giving it to the happy couple as a wedding present.

He went on for another minute or two about how many babes there were in the caretaker profession and explained that he, himself, was dating a nurse who was pregnant with his child. "Seven kids, I'll have," he said. "Incredible, right?"

"What would be incredible is if you made an honest woman of this one," I said. I had no further interest in sucking up to him, since he was no longer my accomplice. I just wanted to get upstairs and talk to Dan.

When Ricardo finally did buzz me up, I was met at the door by Isa, another former accomplice I would rather have avoided.

"Hello,
chérie
," she said. "You hear the news?"

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Yes, Isa. Dan's engaged to Leah. I know all about it."

She beamed. "I'm the one who made it happen. I put a spell on them—her, so she'd sleep here for those ninety days you wanted, and him, so he'd stop making you pay him every month."

"Good job," I said. Did I ever deserve what I got.

"And I have all the pictures on that digital camera," she added with pride.

The photos. More evidence of my deceit. "I'd like the camera back, Isa."

"No problem,
chérie
. It's at my place. You could come by some night and pick it up."

Like that would happen. I had enough problems without running into crackhead sons and car thieves. "In that case, why don't you hang on to it for now. But don't bring it to work until I tell you, okay?"

Just then, Buster pranced into the foyer, followed by his master.

"Here's my sweetie boy," I said, referring to my dog, although the same sentiments applied to my ex. "You feeling okay, Busty? No more coughing?"

"He's done really well on the medicine," said Dan as Isa waved her cleaning rag at me and disappeared. "No coughing or fatigue or anything."

I looked at my ex more closely—he was wearing a cable-knit sweater I'd given him one Christmas, and it made me even more nostalgic for our happy days together. Unfortunately, nostalgia often elicits tears, and out popped mine. I was sick of crying, not to mention embarrassed that I was doing it in front of the man I was supposed to charm, but they dripped down my cheeks, onto my chin. Lovely.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said with genuine concern. "What's this?"

He pulled me up off the floor where I'd been hugging Buster and guided me over to the sofa. I sank down onto the soft cushion, put my head in my hands and sobbed my guts out. I wanted so badly to be as bright and perky as Leah, but there I was, an open wound.

"Buster will be fine," he said, rubbing my back. "You've got to believe that, Mel."

Sob sob sob.

"I've never seen you like this," he said. "Want some water?"

As he started for the kitchen, I mumbled, "I've cried enough water to fill your sink."

"Okay. No water." He sat beside me, waiting for me to come up for air. "I knew you were upset about Buster, but I didn't realize how upset. Leah agrees with Patrick about the treatment plan, by the way. She's been keeping a close eye on our Busty. He's very comfortable around her."

Sob sob sob.

"Mel, I'm worried about you," he said. "You've never been a crier. Where's the tough cookie I know so well?"

"Melted!" I picked up my head. Suddenly, I didn't care if he saw my swollen eyes and swollen nose and swollen lips. What difference did any of it make?

"What do you mean?" he said, looking bewildered.

"I've turned into this pathetic tear factory because you're marrying Leah." There. I said it.

"Come on," he said with a chuckle, as if he didn't understand that I was serious. "That doesn't make sense. Now you're off the hook for the alimony. You should be celebrating."

"I don't care about the alimony. I just want you."

"Me?" He stared at me, stunned. "Since when?"

"Since… since… you became the man I always hoped you'd become."

"Aw, now you're yanking my chain. You just need to calm down." He resumed the rubbing of my back.

"It's true, Dan. You're taking charge of your life and acting responsibly and proving that I was wrong to leave you, leave our marriage. I love you. I never stopped loving you, even though I said horrible, nasty things to you and you said horrible, nasty things to me. I want us to get back together."

Finally realizing that I meant what I was saying, he took his hand off my back, this time as if he was afraid he might have caught something by touching me. He looked that unnerved.

Sob sob sob.

He rose from the sofa and started pacing. "I didn't see this coming at all," he said.

"Neither did I," I said. "But the feelings are there, and I can't hold them in. I'm not trying to ruin your happiness, I swear I'm not. I just had to tell you. In case there's any chance you have feelings for me too."

He stopped pacing and stood there staring at me again. "But I love Leah."

"Do you?" I asked.