Authors: Kristin Billerbeck
Jane
I
’m packing my suitcase, ready to get back to a world that makes sense to me when the phone rings. I see Ronnie’s name light up the caller ID screen, and I about burst.
“Hi, Sweetie!”
“Hey, Mom, how are you this morning?”
“Well, I’m getting things packed up, once again racing from the shambles I’ve managed to create in L.A. This city doesn’t like me, and now it seems, neither do you.”
“Mom, I need time is all. This will blow over. It has to because I know you would never do anything to hurt me, and you’re my mom. I love you.”
“I wouldn’t, Ronnie. I’ve done some stupid things in my day, but never would I hurt you on purpose.”
“So I have a favor to ask of you then.”
“A favor? Anything son.”
“Find Davis and marry him. Mom, he loves you, and you’ve given too much of your life away trying to protect us. You can’t keep running. Sometimes, you have to stop and feel the pain. It’s no fun. Trust me, it’s no fun, but it’s necessary.”
“You’re giving me advice on romance?”
“I would never feel qualified to do that.” He laughs. “I’m giving you advice on keeping what’s good around.”
“You met Mitch then?”
“I did. I like him. He holds his pencil the same way I do.”
“How would you know that?”
“We had breakfast. We’re going to have breakfast every Sunday for a while. Get to know each other.”
“I’m glad. Can I give you one piece of advice?”
“That depends.”
“Don’t rescue women. Your namesake always did that.”
“I’m not rescuing anyone.”
“I know what you like in women, son. I saw it in the sixth grade, when you went on and on about Julia Suarez. The poor girl had that lisp, and everyone made fun of her. You fell in love immediately.”
“I’m afraid I wasn’t that sympathetic, Mom. She hit puberty early, and I was twelve. That’s when I was making my decisions hormonally. You take care of yourself.”
“I’ll take care of myself. The diabetes is in check. I promise.”
“When are you leaving? I’ll need you to leave the fax online so that anything that needs to be signed can be sent down there and returned quickly.”
“Oh, that’s right! I still haven’t talked to Mitch about—”
“Mitch and I have the will all worked out. Don’t you worry. He won’t be making any claims.”
His comment fills me with questions, but I don’t want to lose
my son over telling him how to run his life, so I clamp my mouth tightly.
“I’m leaving tomorrow. I think it’s best if I’m gone when Lindsay returns. She’s ready for her house back, and I’m sure Davis is ready for me to get back to my old life, if he still wants me in his old life. I haven’t even spoken with him since he called about the gallery being low on stock, so I’m certain that—”
“Davis isn’t there, Mom.”
“What do you mean he isn’t there?”
“Davis isn’t at the house, and he isn’t running the gallery. He hired a woman from Xalapa. He’s gone. He wanted me to break it to you gently and asks that you respect his wishes.”
“Ronnie, Davis has always said that—”
“No, this time, he’s gone. He left the house and gallery in the care of this woman. She has a son that I’m going to enroll at the school. Davis left you a note. I’m so sorry, Mom.”
I feel as though my heart might stop. “You talked to him? Didn’t you just tell me to go back to him?”
“I did, but I didn’t say it was going to be easy. Nothing worth having ever is. Davis called me because he thought if he talked to you, he might change his mind. He still loves you deeply. I wish you could tell him you feel the same, but it may be too late this time. But I have faith in you, Mom.”
“You’re telling me I’m going home to an empty house, and that he couldn’t wait to tell me personally? But I should run after him and not be too proud to beg?”
“Precisely. Davis is gone. He said he couldn’t playact as your husband any longer.”
“Playact?” I force myself to catch my breath. Those are nearly the exact words I used to describe my own situation with Ron. I couldn’t have done that to another human being. “We’ve been
through so much together. Surely, he’d tell me this himself. Ronnie, you know that Davis and I—”
“He was worried he wouldn’t follow through. I told you, Mom. You don’t always make it easy for people to tell you their truth.”
I’m crushed and in disbelief. “You can’t trust anyone in this world.”
“You can trust God.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Ronnie. Grow up! I’m talking about reality here.”
He hangs up on me.
I believe in the law of attraction. Clearly, I’m attracting a swell of garbage, so I must be doing something to get such a violent reaction from the men I love.
The world is a very dark place to be sometimes.
Lindsay
I
have my whole life in front of me. That’s what I think when I go to the front of the ship and hold my arms out like Leonardo and Kate in
Titanic
. Like every idiot on a cruise ship hasn’t done this before me. Well, everyone under the age of sixteen, I suppose. Seeing someone my age is probably disconcerting for many.
“You’re the queen of the world!”
I turn around to find a man behind me smiling at my antics. I step down from the bow. “Like you don’t want to do it. Do it. Go ahead, I dare you.” I order the stranger. “Step up there and give me your best Leo.” I swing my arm in the direction of the front, and he follows my arm.
“All right, I will.” He leans over the railing, and he’s so tall, I’m scared he’s going to fall and I pull him back. “Seriously?” He asks me.
“Sorry. I’m a worrier.”
He steps back up and puts his arms out. “I’m on top of the world!” he shouts, and even with the roar of the wind, I can hear people behind us on deck laughing. He turns around with a grin. There is never an available man anywhere in a twenty-mile vicinity until you’re married or decide you’re never going to be. Then, they’re like ants, marching through life, determined as the one they follow. “Come up here,” he shouts.
I walk up the slight slope to the tip of the ship. I put my arms out and he puts his out. “We’re the king of the world!” we shout and laugh like the freaks we are.
I shake my head. “You make a good Leo.”
“And you are a fabulous Winslet. Is this your first cruise?” He puts his hand out and I grab it and he pulls me back to the bow.
“Second, but I was with my husband the first time, and I think it was before Leo and Kate.”
“Ah, divorced?”
“He died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I pushed him over the rail on that last cruise.” I look at him in all seriousness and his smile evaporates.
“Seriously?”
“Stroke.” I shrug.
“Ah. That’s a relief.” He steps toward the deck chairs just in case. “You have a sick sense of humor.”
“I do, but I need one. It keeps me sane.”
“Ah, this is sanity,” he quips. “Where you from?”
“Bel Air. A little condo, not the mansions,” I clarify.
“Brentwood,” he says. “I live in a guesthouse. Not the mansions.”
“Like Kato Kaelin?”
“Sort of, only I pay rent and have a job, and my little old lady landlord wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“I don’t have a job. I used to sell men’s suits.” I shrug. “I got a degree in Art History. It was pretty useless, actually. I had a Mayan artist staying with me, and I didn’t even get that, so it’s more useless than I remember.”
He nods. “I’m a landscape architect.”
“Wow. That sounds like a real job.”
“Don’t I look like I have a real job?”
I shrug. “It’s just most guys in L.A. tell you what their job is while they’re waiting for their role.”
“You an actress?”
“Not until a few minutes ago on the bow of this ship. I was a trophy wife.”
He blinks quickly. “You admit it?”
“I didn’t really know until it was too late. Now I’m proud of it. I was a good trophy wife and in the end, I think he would have taken me ugly.”
“That does sound like a good trophy wife. Norm Beckham,” he says officially as he thrust out his hand. He’s dressed like a tourist. Bad silky, floral shirt and khaki shorts with a brown belt. Too tacky to believe a woman had any part in the outfit, so I take him to be single.
“Lindsay Brindle. Got any cruise tips?”
He nods. “Stay away from the casino and if you drink, do so slowly in Mexico and go with a friend.”
“The voice of experience?”
“A guy’s weekend I will regret for a very long time.”
“So you like to cruise then?”
“I like to get away for four days and not cook a meal and come home rested. You can’t beat the value. No one can call you—well, they can possibly, but I leave my cell phone at home.”
“I’m here to find myself.” It sounds more twisted as I say it aloud. “I brought my shrink along.” I take out a self-help title from my bag.
“Yourself? Not a new boyfriend?” he asks with raised brow.
“You men think we’re all out to trap you.” I look him up and down. “You’re safe.”
“Is it the shirt?” he asks, fingering his collar.
“Partly. Partly because I really am not looking for a new husband, and if I were, I’d have to figure out what I was looking for. Hence, the reason I’m here looking for me.”
“There she is!”
I look up to see Haley and Helena approaching. I squeal like a teenager, “What are you two doing here?”
“We’re here to help you vacation. You don’t want to do that alone,” Haley exclaims.
“Or with strangers,” Helena says, arms crossed in front of her.
“Helena, Haley, meet Norm Beckham, a landscape artist from Brentwood.”
“Only a Brentwood guesthouse,” he clarifies.
“You don’t have to make yourself any less desirable. We’re not here looking for men,” Helena quips.
Norm, a blond man with significant stature, gives a questioning gaze toward Helena. How do you explain our gorgeous, Spock-like friend to a complete stranger? “She doesn’t mean anything by that.”
“No?”
“She’s just stating the facts. Aren’t you Helena?”
“Wasn’t that obvious?” she asks.
“This has been enlightening. I think I’ll be going now. You ladies have a lovely cruise,” Norm says. “Lindsay, same bat channel to
morrow morning, if you want to fly with me.” He winks and saunters off.
“What was that about?” Haley asks me. “Don’t you have a few men to get rid of before you add more to your cache?”
“I don’t have a cache, Haley.”
“A litter then? What do you want to call it?”
“History. So what are you girls doing here?”
“We were worried about you. So we got a last minute room in the bowel of the ship, with no window, and we thought that doesn’t matter—we’ll stay in Lindsay’s suite. So we’re here.”
“How did you get off work?”
“My boss is out of town. I told Lily she could cover for me, or come on the cruise, but we needed to be here for you. We booked our room as soon as we heard from Bette.”
“So this morning on the phone? You were already on your way here?”
“Yep. We were making sure you actually got on board before we got stuck on this floating bar alone.”
We share a group hug. “My homeys are here for me,” I say, delighted at the thought that for once, I am the needy one and everyone knows it. I’m terrible at being the needy one. “I’m here to plan my life on an organizational flow chart. I brought markers.”
“Whoopee! That sounds like an exciting vacation.” Haley rolls her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell the girls you needed some life planning? What are the Trophy Wives good for, if not giving advice?”
God bless her. I know Haley’s trying to be helpful, but these flirtations with Jake and Ronnie, however life altering they may be, are the only sign of life I’ve actually felt in a year. They’re the only things that made me realize my heart does still beat and that there is hope that I won’t be alone forever.
“Jane doesn’t think I’m good enough for her son, and I’m fine with that. But you know, Jake’s mother didn’t think I was good enough for him, either, and Ron’s mother was dead or she probably would have felt the same. So I figured maybe God needs to show me why the mothers of America think I’m such horrible wife material. I need clarity. I want to learn from my mistakes, you know? All of this had to happen for a reason.” Haley nods.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Helena says with that look of duh she’s perfected. Granted, she could be talking about the origin of anything from shampoo to Aristotle’s separation from Plato, and she’d give you the same expression.
“It’s never obvious to me, Helena. Enlighten me, if you get it.”
“Clearly, you have a mother issue you need to deal with. God says that sin will be visited to the fourth generation.”
“So that’s why mothers don’t like me?” I ask.
“No, that’s why you need people’s mothers’ approval. You don’t have your own to contend with, so subconsciously, you’re searching.”
Haley gives Helena a look and slices her palm across her neck. I can’t imagine why anyone bothers to try to shut Helena up. She never takes notice of anyone’s reactions. It seems to empower her. Any kind of feedback at all seems to empower her.
“Not to mention that you were married to Jane’s former husband, and there’s the whole six degrees of separation thing.”
I shake my head. “Six degrees?”
“It has been empirically measured that we are no further than six degrees, or steps if you will, from anyone here on earth. Hence, the small world theory and the reason you are a mere one degree from Jane. Therefore, if you were married to the same man…. Gosh, you know.” Helena puts a finger to her temple. “I don’t believe that’s
even one degree of separation. You’re related. It’s the equivalent of coming from a small, mountainous state and announcing you’re about to marry your brother.”
“It is not! Helena,” Haley barks. “It’s like this, Lindsay. Women don’t like to share men. You have already shared Ron, and now you’re asking Jane to share her son with you. Remember how Rachel and Leah didn’t want to share? Same thing. She’s crying out to you, ‘Mine!’”
“You’re both here to drive me crazy. Tell me the truth. You’ve got a straight jacket in your suitcase, and you’re here to take me away so that no one has to deal with me at all. Isn’t that right?” I look at them both, and they blink innocently. As if everything they’ve told me should make perfect sense, and I am the one who has completely lost touch with reality.
“Let’s go find the first buffet, shall we?” Haley asks, laughing. She hangs on to me as we walk, balancing herself carefully on her sparkling new Keds. Haley is not the most stable when it comes to walking, and I’m sure the sway of the boat is doing nothing to help the situation.
But suddenly I’m struck by what Helena has told me. “It’s like I’m dating my brother?” I ask Helena. “Really?”
“Mathematically speaking, yes.”
“But we’re bad at math, Helena, so it hardly matters,” Haley says.
“Right. It hardly matters. I don’t think Ronnie or his mother are speaking to me anyway.” I swallow the emotions this brings up for me. I wish I could be the sensible girl who doesn’t feel everything so deeply.
“Well, it’s fine. You didn’t know them two months ago, and you won’t know them two months from now. They were bit players in your life, that’s all. Just two walk-on roles.”
I stop walking as I try and figure out why Haley’s statement makes me angry. “Ronnie has the same protective nature Ron had, and I felt really safe in his arms. I felt like I could simply sit with him for hours, and we connected without words. That’s what I loved about him.”
“You didn’t love anything about him,” Haley reminds me. “You barely knew him. This was just a stressful time in life, and the two of you came together in grief. It’s a beautiful thing really. So romantic, but hardly real.”
“It was romantic, Haley. In a way I haven’t experienced before, and I know this is partly because I can’t have him in my life. I broke the only promise I made to his mother. I lied to him. His appearance in my life—well, it absolutely brought out the worst in me. There’s no doubt. But on some level, I felt at my best with him, too.”
Haley stops walking. “Did you say his appearance brought out the worst in you?”
“Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Ridiculous,” Helena confirms.
“I’m not so sure,” Haley stammers. “I know you, Lindsay.”
“You’re lonely. He’s lonely, it’s a stressful time and BOOM!” Helena claps her hands together. “It’s social combustion. Oh, can I have the key to put my stuff in your room? You can’t believe how disgusting ours is. No window or anything, and Haley keeps bumping into the wall because she can’t tell which way is up.”
“Sure. Sure.” I take out the key and hand it back to her. “Suite 8000.”
We walk down the hallway, and Haley falls into the wall while we search for the buffet.
“I can’t believe you came on a boat for me. You have trouble walking on dry land.”
“I’m here because it’s you in crisis this time. I’m so sorry again
about your mom. I know you wanted to see her before something like this happened. I’m here for you, girl. I’m your tub of chocolate frosting.”
“Aww.” I stop and hug her. “You like me. You really like me.” I give her my best Sally Field.
“You can make fun of me all you want, but I am so glad to have my best friend back. I worried that you were going to spend your life getting your hair done and calling me for shoe sales. It was so unlike you.” She pauses for a moment. “Well, there’s more to you than that. Let’s agree on that much.”
“There are worse kinds of lives.” I grin at her. “Look at you, you’re still wearing Keds! The same shoes you wore when you were five, only now they have rhinestones on them. Is it any wonder I must call you with shoe sales?”
“Listen, Lindsay, you have to think about your skill set. I used mine, and I never even went to college. You’ve got a degree. You’re light-years ahead of me.”
“But I never used it. I worked at Nordstrom’s. I sold suits by flirting. It’s not like that’s a real skill.”
“It is, but technically, it usually leads to illegal work, so we’re going to have to find something else, but you keep avoiding that conversation. Remember when we talked about design…styling…the ministry? At some point, you have to make a choice.”
“Hence the flow chart I brought.”
“You’ve just gotten out of the habit of asking God what the right things are. You know in your heart. That man you were talking with up on deck?”
“Norm?”
“Norm.” She rolls her eyes as though she hadn’t heard his name the first time. “Do you know, Lindsay, the first time I met you, you flirted with a coffee barista half your age. Oh, you read him the riot
act that nothing was going to happen, but do you realize your first language is flirting? It’s your comfort zone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You have gotten by your whole life by flirting and being beautiful. But what happens when you’re not?
If
you’re not? What happens when you’re Cherry and your chest is still thirty, but you’re not?”