Dying for a Date (11 page)

She looked at me with anticipation, probably hoping I would have first hand knowledge she could share with her cronies.

Once she heard my “up close and personal” first hand information, I doubted she would want to share it with anyone. Fortunately our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the waitress with a pot of coffee. More caffeine was needed before I could deal with my mother's questions. I dumped in one packet of sugar then grabbed a second one. This breakfast required extra carbs to get me through the impending inquisition.

"Didn't you notice anything at all? And you haven't even mentioned how your date went."

I gazed at the six-tier dessert showcase displayed next to the cashier. The revolving tiers of fruit-filled cobblers and whipped cream topped lemon and chocolate pies were spinning around and around, exactly how the carousel of my life felt right now.

"Let's place our order then I'll fill you in."

Our server materialized the minute our menus were set down. Her cheeks were as rosy as the apples dotting her crisp white apron. “Ladies, what will you have this bright sunny day?” she asked way too cheerfully.

Bet none of her dates drowned last night.

"I'll have two eggs lightly basted, with three slices of bacon, not undercooked but not burnt, and an English muffin, lightly buttered with butter, no margarine."

The waitress scribbled quickly to make sure she didn't miss any of my mother's precise order. You have to admire a woman who knows exactly what she wants. When she glanced at me I decided to go whole hog. “I'll have the crab benedict. Lightly sauced,” I added, with a grin.

She winked. “Yeah, right. I'll be back with a coffee refill."

Mother folded her arms against her chest. “All right, Laurel, no more delays. Tell me about last night."

I reflected back on the previous evening trying to decide where to begin. I commenced with Jeremy's arrival at my front door. I had just mentioned the high-end champagne when our server arrived with a huge tray loaded with our breakfast order. It looked like the eggs, bacon and muffins were all cooked to my mother's very specific directions. No wonder she kept coming back here for brunch.

"This Dr. Slater really seems like a catch. Perhaps I was too hasty in judging the Love Club.” She bit into her toast. “I can't believe he ordered Dom Perignon. Did you enjoy it?"

Did I ever. I nodded, the savory Bearnaise sauce dribbling down my chin.

"Did he ask you out again?” She poured some cream into her coffee, slowly stirring it while she waited for my response. I shoveled the crab benedict into my mouth, hoping she wouldn't expect an answer if my mouth was full.

"Slow down, dear. You're eating much too fast. Did Dr. Slater ask you to go out with him again?"

I swallowed a bite of crab. It was time to bite the bullet as well. “No, Jeremy didn't ask me out again. He isn't going to be available for me to go out with."

"Why not? Is he going out of town?” With the skill of a surgeon she precisely cut a piece of bacon and placed it in her mouth.

"No, Jeremy is uh, uh...” I couldn't think of anything else to say so I finished with, “dead."

Her eyes bugged out and she started choking. Ever the dutiful daughter, I grabbed her water glass and handed it to her. She swallowed a few sips, eyes contemplating me as she set the glass down. “Dead?"

I winced and nodded. She picked up her fork. The utensil hovered over her plate like a helicopter, finally landing on a bite of egg. I marveled at her calm, waiting for the barrage of questions to begin.

"Am I to assume Jeremy is the man who drowned in the river?"

"Yes, Mother.” I shared the details without a single interruption. She was either marvelously in control or totally in shock.

"Laurel, I must say I'm at a total loss for words.” In thirty-nine years, this was the first time I could recall my mother acknowledging such an event.

"Do you see any reason why it wouldn't have been an accident?"

"I can't imagine anyone intentionally pushing Jeremy in the river. It's a good thing I was in the bathroom when this occurred or I might be considered a suspect."

She sat there shaking her head. “Laurel, Laurel, Laurel."

"Mother, Mother, Mother,” I mimicked in reply.

She pursed her thin lips together. “This situation is far too serious to joke about. I hope you finally realize how foolish this Love Club idea is. Obviously they haven't screened their members. It's much too dangerous for you to go out with these strangers."

"Mother, you're making some rash assumptions. We don't know how or why Garrett was killed. And we still don't know if Jeremy drowned accidentally or not.” My lips twisted as I smiled wryly. “The only danger appears to be when someone goes out with me."

Our waitress brought more coffee and inquired whether we were finished. We both seemed to have lost our appetites so I grabbed the bill and stopped at the cashier station to pay. As far as I was concerned this was enough mother and daughter bonding for today. As we exited the restaurant my mother halted in the middle of the pavement. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Mom, what's the matter?"

She foraged in her purse and pulled out a pre-packaged tissue. She gently wiped her eyes and blew her nose before continuing. “You know how worried I am about you going out with these strange men. If anything happened to you, I don't know what I would do."

I was touched. It was so seldom my mother showed any emotion, especially in public.

"Honest, right now I have zero desire to go on another date."

"Well, don't totally give up on men. You just need to go out with someone you can trust."

We hugged and headed toward our respective vehicles. We were almost to our cars when she asked, “What kind of costume is Ben wearing for Halloween?"

Oops. Time I focused on my children instead of my primal urges. “Ben and I are going to work on his costume tonight, as soon as the kids return home from their weekend with Hank."

We parted company, she in her pristine car and I in my dusty hybrid. The kids wouldn't be home until around six so I decided some quiet time would do me some good. I drove to my favorite orchard and sat at a picnic table surrounded by apple-laden trees overlooking the farm's trout filled pond. It felt good to relax, the sun caressing me with its warmth while I gnawed on a caramel apple. Between the sunshine and the high dosage of sugar, the tension eased out of my shoulders.

Back at the house, I decided it wouldn't hurt to emulate my mother. I not only scrubbed my car from one sparkling periwinkle end to the other, I found time to whip up some chocolate chip cookies for the kids. And possibly their father. When we were married I used to hide cookies in my lingerie drawer to keep Hank from devouring the entire batch.

One would think a man would never stray from a wife who smelled like chocolate.

My arms were elbow deep in suds when the timer beeped. I wiped my hands on a dishtowel, grabbed a potholder and opened the oven door. The front door blew open and the kids serenaded me with their theme song, “Hey Mom, where are you?"

Perfect timing. I turned to greet them, baking sheet in hand.

A furry animal scurried over my bare foot. I screamed and the metal pan flew into the air. Hot cookies rained melted chocolate on the floor.

"Kids, there's a rat in the kitchen.” I opened the door of the pantry and looked for a weapon. A can of Pringles would have to suffice.

"Mom,” wailed Ben, “that's not a rat. It's our new kitten. You've probably scared her to death.” Ben picked up the furry creature, which was cowering next to the stove. He cuddled her in one arm while he chomped on one of the few cookies that escaped landing on the floor.

Jenna bent over and began picking up the cookies that were splattered all over the floor.

"Mom, you need to get glasses. Can't you tell it's a kitten? Isn't she adorable?"

I took a closer look at the “adorable” kitten. She was a strange blend of orange and black hair with enormous pointed ears, definitely the homeliest cat I'd ever encountered.

"We got her at the mall and named her Pumpkin cause she's orange and black and it's almost Halloween. We can keep her, can't we? Dad said you wouldn't mind.” Ben looked over my shoulder and I turned to glower at a sheepish Hank.

"Sure, honey, I mean Laurel. I know you had a tough weekend, so we went to the mall to pick up a costume for Ben. He said you'd been too busy to work on one this year."

My ex. Master of the guilt trip.

"Dad bought me this terrific costume. I'm going to be Spiderman.” Ben transferred the kitten to Jenna's willing arms then proceeded to climb the cabinets in Spiderman style, leaving chocolate imprints all over my oak paneled doors.

"We picked up cat food and a litter box. We promise to clean it every day. Honest.” Jenna's eyes pleaded with me as she stroked the tiny orange and black critter. The odds were fifty to one that my children would remember to empty the litter box every day. But I was grateful the costume issue was resolved so I grudgingly nodded. How much trouble could a tiny kitten be?

Hank looked relieved at my acquiescence. The four of us, plus their furry friend, trooped outside to bring in the kids’ suitcases and the kitten paraphernalia. We were outside less than twenty seconds when Pumpkin leaped out of Ben's arms and decided to investigate our garden.

What I didn't anticipate was that Pumpkin would discover a butterfly and chase it. She had probably never been outside before and was now presented with the opportunity to explore the wonders of nature. Ben discovered a nine-week-old kitten could run faster than a seven-year-old boy. Pumpkin streaked across the lawn, Ben and Jenna racing after her. I was right on their heels.

We couldn't let little Pumpkin turn into pumpkin pie!

Pumpkin miraculously avoided the street. She climbed up the back tire of the Prius, jumped on the trunk, clambered up the rear window and on to the roof of the car, leaving a trail of tiny dirty paw prints for us to admire. She paused and began calmly washing her paws.

"See, Mom.” Ben scooped up the kitten. “Pumpkin is smart enough to stay away from the street.” Terrific. Too bad she wasn't smart enough to stay off my car. There went my plan to emulate my mother's immaculate habits. With two children and a new kitten I should concentrate on things within my control—as soon as I could think of any.

The kids hauled their stuff, including their new pet, upstairs. I offered Hank some cookies, which I knew he wouldn't refuse. I neglected to mention that his goodies adorned the floor a few minutes earlier. He inhaled them in seconds. “You still make a great chocolate chip cookie."

I narrowed my eyes. I knew when my ex was buttering me up for something.

He cleared his throat. “I need to tell you something."

"Something like you and Nadine split up?"

He stopped mid chomp. “How did you find out?"

"I have my sources.” I grabbed a cookie and nibbled on it. I needed chocolate—but strictly for medicinal purposes. “So what happened between the two of you?"

"I broke it off. I've missed being with you, Laurel."

I snorted. Not a wise move when your mouth is filled with cookie crumbs. I grabbed a tumbler from the cabinet and filled it with tap water. Once I stopped choking I was able to continue. “This concerns me, how?"

"Well, I..."

I thought Hank was reaching for another cookie, but he grabbed my right hand instead and pulled me close, my five foot four inches nestled against his six-foot frame. For a brief moment, I relaxed against his familiar chest. My eyes closed as he gently massaged my back in that way that had soothed me on so many nights. It felt good to be held by someone who wanted me, cared about me, desired...Hey?

I felt a movement that brought back familiar memories. I jumped back and swatted his hand. “What do you think you're doing?"

He smirked. “See hon, you still turn me on. When Jenna told me you joined the Love Club it made me realize how much I miss you. We had twenty great years together. Don't turn your back on me. Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?"

Evidently our definition of twenty great years differed dramatically. I wanted to kick his sorry butt through the back door but I merely shoved him in that direction. “Get out."

He snatched two more cookies and exited the kitchen with one last parting shot.

"Just remember. I love you and I want you back."

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I dreamt I was kissing a moustached stranger. I woke up to discover a furry paw glued to my moisturized face. Blech. I pushed the kitten off my face and attempted to remove strands of her hair from my mouth. She emitted a piercing howl, ran across the bed knocking my fake Tiffany lamp to the floor, then raced down the stairs.

I finally cornered her in the kitchen where she was amenable to a bribe of roasted turkey. After I shut her in our oversized laundry room I crawled back into bed. Two o'clock. Less than four hours until my alarm went off. Hank was probably sleeping just fine tonight. Perhaps the kids should get him a kitten for Christmas so their dad could also experience the joy of owning a pet.

Seconds before I drifted back to sleep I remembered Hank's comment about my tough weekend. Was he referring to my tragic date? Or brunch with mother?

Getting the kids ready for school with the distraction of our new pet made me late to work. As I walked into the lobby, which was decorated with pumpkins and hay bales, Vivian pointed at the clock hanging over the double doors. I hustled down the corridor past two rows of cubicles, turned the corner and bumped into Stan. He was standing, newspaper in hand, undoubtedly waiting to interrogate me. He watched in silence as I hung my jacket on the coat rack and stored my purse in the bottom drawer. Then he laid the front page of the paper on my desk.

The headlines of our local newspaper,
The Mountain Democrat,
screeched at me.

That got my attention. The newspaper must be giving brownie points for excessive alliteration. I tried to read but couldn't concentrate with Stan staring at me. I pictured imaginary question marks dotting his broad forehead.