Going For Broke (34 page)

             
Brud clearly would rather skip this portion of the conversation, but Martha started in, ready to tell all.

             
“Well, it was the funniest thing...  I was down at the Hummer dealership -”

             
Victoria cut in, “You drive a Hummer?”  Figures.

             
“No, I was just shopping.  Anyway, I was looking at this adorable H3 and was leaning into the car to see how many cupholders it had, this is so embarrassing, and I must have lost my footing, because before you knew it I had tumbled into the front seat!  Can you picture it?”

             
Oh, yes I can picture your little bootie hanging out of the side of the car for all to see, Victoria thought.  Instead she just nodded her head.

             
“Well, thankfully Frederick was there to save me!” Victoria could swear that Martha stuck her chest out just a little farther as she said it. 

             
“Thankfully,” Victoria agreed.

             
“Well, Frederick and I got to talking,” Martha started stroking his arm, “and we just had so much in common.  Well, one thing led to another -- and here we are!”

             
Frederick/Brud was noticeably silent during Martha’s story.  Victoria didn’t feel sorry for him.  As a matter of fact, she was fed up with most men, especially those that cheat or lie to their wives. 

             
  “How is Eleanor?” Victoria asked.

             
Now it was Brud’s turn to be uncomfortable.  “She’s great.  Up at Lake Geneva with the grandkids.” 

             
Eleanor obviously wasn’t one of the many things that Martha and Brud had in common, although Martha didn’t seem very concerned about her, wherever Eleanor and the grandkids happened to be.

             
“Give her my best,” Victoria said, as she grabbed her bag off the chair.  “Martha, great to see you again!”   She sped out of the coffee shop as quickly as she could.  Let them sort that all out.  She ducked out the door and took a minute to catch her breath.  She didn’t have long.

             
Scott Simons turned the corner and walked straight into her.  He looked as hungover as she felt, and somehow it looked rakishly handsome on him.   He gave her a huge smile when he saw her.

             
“Stalking me, are we?” he teased. 

             
“Stalking?” she didn’t understand.

             
“I live upstairs.  Remember?” he gave her a devilish smile. 

             
She dragged her hand through her hair and shook her head.  “I’m amazed I remember anything from last night.  I haven’t had that much to drink in a long time.  I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing.” she said, remembering every moment of their evening.

             
He leaned in close to her and said with a conspiratorial whisper, “Nothing I wouldn’t want repeated.”

             
He may look fantastic, but his breath smelled like it had better days.  Victoria took a step back and hid a shudder.  There was nothing from last night she wanted to be repeated.  She wasn’t happy when Parker caught them, though today she was thankful that he stopped it when he did.  Running into Scott was bad enough after a few drunken kisses.  She couldn’t imagine having to see him after anything more.

             
“Well, then,” she really didn’t have much more to say to him.  She looked around for Mike’s truck.  The last thing she wanted was for Mike to see them together again.  Where was he?  “I should get going.”  Witty repartee it wasn’t, but she wasn’t looking to impress at this point.  She was just looking to get out of there. 

             
“I’d love to see you again” Scott said, as he stuffed his hands into his pockets like a high school boy.  What Victoria wouldn’t have given to have this conversation twenty five years ago! 

             
“That would be great” she lied.  “It’s just that things are a little crazy right now.”

             
“I’m flexible,” he smiled.  He wasn’t going to press her, and for that she was thankful.  Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

             
“Thanks.  I’ve really got to go --” she pointed toward her trusty bike.

             
“No, sure,” he said, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.  “Can I get your number before you run off on me?”

             
“I’m at my mother’s -- can you believe I don’t know her number off the top of my head?”

             
“What about your cell?” he asked.

             
“Sorry - I don’t have one.  I’m really sorry, I have to get going,” she said as she walked backwards toward her bike.  “I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again soon.  After all, I know where you live!”

             
A little confused, Scott waved and headed into Starbucks.  Great, let him have a nice cup of coffee with Martha and her newest boytoy.  Or was that oldmantoy?  All she knew was that she needed to get home.

CHAPTER 22

             
“Thanks Mom, I just don’t think I could sit through the entire dress rehearsal of The Wizard of Oz tonight,” Victoria dropped her head on the end of the sofa in the living room.  Barbara was worried, as this looked more like the Vicky that landed on her doorstep earlier this spring.  She had pulled out Bud’s old sweatpants and was wearing an old New Trier East Swimming sweatshirt, which confused Barbara, as Vicky was never a swimmer.  She went over and felt Victoria’s forehead.

             
“I’m fine mother,” Victoria snapped.

             
“A bit of the Irish flue?” Barbara asked.

             
“With a severe case of the Oh-Nos,” Victoria said, hitting her forehead repeatedly with an avocado green pillow.

             
“Anything you want to talk about?”  Victoria pulled the pillow from her face and looked at her mother with an evil stare.  “Fine, don’t tell me anything.  I should be used to it by now.”

             
Victoria’s heart broke just a little bit as she watched her children leave for play practice.  Their costumes were at school and she had yet to see them in full dress, and she knew from Posey every detail of both her and Parker’s costumes.  Any other day, she told herself, she’d be front and center.  Today it was all she could do to fake a cheerful goodbye and send them on their way. 

             
It felt good to zone out to the TV.  She hadn’t done it in awhile, and it was just like riding a bike.  There was a new season of the Real Housewives of Atlanta, and although she had missed the first six episodes, she really didn’t need to see them to jump right in. 

             
Fritz grabbed his leash in his mouth and jumped up on the sofa, trying to persuade Victoria to take him for a walk.  She could swear that dog could tell time - every day at exactly 7:00, he was ready to go.  Today he’d have to walk himself.  She shuffled to the back door to let him out in the backyard, a lame attempt to exercise him.  He stood in the middle of the kitchen and let out a bark of protest.

             
“Sorry pal, tonight you’re on your own.  I’m on strike.  Come on, go out,” she motioned out the door.

             
He refused to budge.  Christ, you dumb dog, she thought.  Go outside and poop!  She tried to scoot him outside with her foot, but he held steady, and she was only able to glide him across the linoleum floor, he stopped when he got to the threshold. 

             
“Fine, little Fucker, be like that.  I’m bigger than you.”  She bent down and picked up the little dog and was about to throw it down the stairs.

             
“Getting ready for the midget throwing contest later this week?”

             
She looked up to see Mike in her backyard, leaning against the garage, with a cell phone in his hand.  He held it up like he was going to take a picture of her.  She dropped the dog on the stoop, and Fritz ran straight to Mike, tail wagging.  Mike bent down to scratch the dog’s ears, and looked up at Victoria.  His usual half-smile was gone. 

             
“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked.  The pitch of her voice was high, and it was clear that she was nervous.

             
“Aren’t we past that?”

             
“My mother and Bud are inside!”

             
“Really?  What about the rehearsal?” He wasn’t going to let her off the hook.

             
“How did you know about --”

             
“Hey, it’s my job,” he shrugged.

             
“You shouldn’t be here,” she put her arms on her hips, trying to display some sort of authority.

             
“We need to talk,” was all he said, and she folded like a deck of cards.  She sat on the bottom stair, and put her hungover head in her hands. 

             
He came over and sat next to her, filling the step completely.  It was easier to talk to him without having to look him straight in the eye.  “About the other night?”

             
“About last night,” he answered.  His tone was low and his voice was soft.

             
Shit!  It was Mike’s truck she had seen out of the corner of her eye.  She felt stupid, slutty and did she say stupid?  She didn’t know what to say.

             
“You saw me.”

             
“I wish I hadn’t.”

             
“I was drunk.”

             
“I could tell.”

             
“I didn’t mean anything.”

             
“I know.”

             
She stopped.  “You know?  How do you know?”

             
“I think I have a good idea of who you are, Mrs. Vernon.  You don’t really seem like the kind of girl to get drunk and make out with the first good-looking guy you see.  Not that that Simons guy is very good looking.”

             
“I got drunk and made out with you,” she answered.

             
“Ah, that’s different.  First of all, you weren’t really drunk.  Charmingly tipsy, yes, but not just about to puke drunk.  Trust me, I know the difference.  Secondly, I am much better looking.  A lot.”  He leaned in closer to her.  “And thirdly (is that a word, thirdly?) thirdly I know you have feelings for me.”

             
“You know that, do you?” She asked, not moving away.