Nothing But Trouble (11 page)

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Authors: Bettye Griffin

BOOK: Nothing But Trouble
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In a way it was almost too bad, though. When she was drunk she fucked like the Energizer bunny, even though afterward she was dead to the world.
Chapter 12
“
T
his is nice, isn't it, us just being girls together on a Sunday afternoon?” Cécile said, beaming at Micheline across their table at Chili's.
“Yes, it is,” Micheline agreed. “I'm glad you could get away. How's business, anyway?”
“Of course, it's only been a week, but so far, it's going really well. I think we're going to do fine.”
“Somehow I thought you'd have to be chained to your computer, typing away. Are your friends minding the store?”
Cécile felt a twinge of annoyance that Micheline, despite having been firmly told by Norell that the partners weren't mere typists, continued to make condescending remarks about their line of work. She pushed her irritation away, thinking of her promise to her mother to get along with her sister. “Actually, Norell's covering the help desk. For problems, we have instant messaging set up that whoever's on duty checks constantly,” she explained. “Dana takes calls on her office line only in case of an emergency. She's the only one of us who has a separate phone line installed in her office, but it wouldn't be fair for her to have to take calls day and night. Some of our contractors prefer to work at two and three in the morning.”
“No, I agree that Dana can't have her phone ringing at that hour.” Micheline said. “She really seems very nice. I hope she's making it all right without her husband.”
“Oh, she'll be fine,” Cécile said. She felt it would be disloyal to discuss Dana's financial problems with her sister. If she knew Micheline, she'd find a way to take advantage of the situation, so the less she knew, the better. “Are you all settled?”
“Yeah. But I'll be glad to find an apartment. I'm not much for living in tiny spaces. I don't know how you—” Micheline quickly broke off. She hadn't meant to say she didn't know how Cécile stood it, but unfortunately she'd said enough so that her intent was pretty clear.
She decided to just keep talking. No point in apologizing. After all, she hadn't completed the statement, even if Cécile probably knew what she'd been about to say. “I've been looking at apartments and have even seen a few I like.”
“Oh? Whereabouts?”
Micheline took a moment to be grateful that Cécile had let her blunder pass. “All over town. One's in Riverside, one's in the Southeast, around Tinseltown, and one's at the Beaches.”
“The Beaches is nice. That's where Norell lives.”
Micheline was glad Cécile mentioned Norell. She'd been curious ever since meeting Norell the other night at Wild Wednesday. Dana and Cécile had both dressed nicely for the occasion, but Micheline recognized that the turquoise suit, alligator pumps of the same color, matching shoulder bag, and jewelry Norell wore were expensive. Micheline expected all of Cécile's friends to be struggling housewives. Norell didn't fit the profile, and she would love to know the story behind it.
“Does she?” she said now. “I'll bet it's nice.”
“Oh, it's real nice. She just got married a little over a year ago—”
“First time?”
“Yes. Her husband's about a dozen years older than she is, and he's pretty well off. They have a beautiful house. It's not all that close to the water, but it's real nice just the same. Jewel-tiled floors, dream kitchen, a patio with pool between the two downstairs bedrooms... .”
Micheline nodded. So Norell had a well-off, older husband. That explained why she could dress so nicely. Hell, she'd marry somebody who was forty in a heartbeat, if it meant she could dress like Norell did, and if he could satisfy her sexually. If a time came when he couldn't keep up with the program she'd divorce his ass ... and get a nice settlement, of course.
Cécile leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “Micheline, can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.”
Cécile leaned back. “I'm pregnant.”
Micheline's response came quickly. “You're kidding.”
“No. I had my tubes tied, but apparently it failed. That happens sometimes, you know, even after the first year.”
“Can you sue your doctor?”
“No. I signed a form accepting that possibility. I haven't had time to schedule an appointment with my doctor yet to tell him.”
“That's nice and all, Sis, but where are you going to put it?”
She sighed. “Michael has been talking about remodeling ever since before we got married. We need it desperately. You've seen how cramped the girls are. I told him that with a new baby coming we should just buy a bigger house.”
“That makes sense.”
“He's mad at me.”
“Why, for heaven's sake?”
“Because he feels I got pregnant on purpose to force him to make a move.”
“That's silly!”
“I know. But he's annoyed at the money we'll have to put out each month on a bigger house. He's lived in his house for eleven years. The mortgage payment is four hundred and sixty-nine dollars.”
“Wow. That
is
hard to give up. I'll have to pay about seven hundred for a decent apartment.”
“It might not happen. He says he won't spend more than one-fifty on a new house.”
Micheline shrugged. “I'm no real estate pro, Sis, but in today's market, wouldn't that buy a house about the same size as the one you've got now?”
“That's exactly right. So what's the point? At least with the house we've got now we know all its little idiosyncrasies—you know, which floorboards creak and which faucet handle is a little hard to turn.”
“Adding on will be cheaper than buying a new house.”
“It'll also be a structural and a living nightmare,” Cécile declared. “I hate houses that have rooms added on. You can always tell because the two parts never match.” She smiled sheepishly at the irony of confiding in her sister, something she never expected to do. “Thanks, Michie. I just felt like I had to share that with somebody. I hate putting my problems on Dana, and I'd like to put off telling Norell I'm pregnant as long as I can.”
Micheline immediately perked up. “Oh? Why's that?”
“Because she's having trouble trying to get pregnant. She even had some surgery done on her reproductive system, but they told her she probably won't ever have a baby.”
“Oh, how sad. How does her husband feel about that?”
“He's worried about how
she
feels. This is a second marriage for him, and he already has a couple of kids, so it's not a great tragedy for him personally.”
It had pleased Micheline to hear that Norell, with her fancy wardrobe, her diamonds and sapphires, and her beautiful beach house, had fertility problems. In her opinion, no one should lead a charmed life, unless it was her. Look at Dana. She had a nice house, too, in a pretty neighborhood, and drove a nice cream-colored, fully equipped Camry, but Micheline sensed she had financial problems because she'd been a little too eager to get Micheline to rent her spare room. Cécile hadn't volunteered any information, probably out of loyalty.
Micheline decided not to press the issue, although as with Norell, she would have loved to know the background history. You never knew when information might come in handy.
“So, how was your weekend?” Cécile asked. “Any hot dates?”
“Oh, I went out on Friday night with a nice guy. I met him at Wild Wednesday.”
“Ah, you just met him. Tell me about him, Michie.”
She shrugged. “He's just an ordinary fellow. I think we can have some fun together.” Now it was her turn to lean forward eagerly. “So tell me, when do you start house hunting?”
“We're going out this afternoon. What about you? What're your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I'm getting together with one of my old friends. You remember Yolanda L'Esperance from Riviera Beach?”
“Just vaguely. It's been so long. Is she here in Jacksonville now?”
“Yes. She's married, and she just had a baby.” Micheline sat back in her chair, happy to have successfully changed the subject.
For the less said about her Friday-night date, the better.
Chapter 13
C
écile's breath caught in her throat. “Michael, look!” She pointed with a stubby fingernail to the figure on the information sheet of the model house they'd just looked at.
He squinted. “Are you kidding? This house is three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars? For what?”
“And that's just the base price. I'm sure that doesn't include any bells and whistles they've got in the model.”
Michael put down the paper. “Come on, let's get out of here. We can forget about new construction. It's gone through the roof.”
They got back into their car and continued driving to their original destination, an open house nearby. Cécile wrote off the unscheduled stop-off as a mistake. To her disappointment, even the open house proved to be futile, for the house being sold—although relatively new with four bedrooms, two baths, and an asking price within their range—turned out to be too small. The master suite was fine, but the three smaller bedrooms weren't large enough to house two children apiece, plus a third in one of them when the baby was older.
Cécile felt terribly disappointed. They'd just begun looking, but from what she'd seen in the paper and in those free “House for Sale” booklets, residential real estate had gotten awfully expensive. She'd always felt Michael had been exaggerating the expense because of his frugal nature, but now she knew better. Would they really be able to manage? Michael's Expedition was fairly new, but the van she drove was seven years old and wouldn't last forever. What if it had to be replaced while they still had two or three years' worth of hefty payments on the Expedition? A much larger mortgage plus two car payments ... Would they have to cut out all the extras, send out for pizza instead of having family dinners at Bennigan's or Motogo Japanese restaurant, where the chefs prepared their meal right there at the table? What about their family membership at the Y, and the girls' soccer league? Those extras all cost money, money they wouldn't have if their mortgage payment suddenly quadrupled. Maybe they should skip the new house and remodel the one they had. A new master suite and bath would solve the problem, but where would they put it? Their yard was already relatively small, and adding on an upstairs would be major construction.
Michael broke into her thoughts. “Don't get all gloomy on me, Cécile. This is the first time we've looked, and you're acting like you want to give up. You didn't expect to find something today, did you?”
“Now you're making me feel silly,” she protested. “Of course I didn't expect to find the perfect house today. But what we did see isn't very encouraging.”
“We already knew that. I tell you, this kid is going to send us to the poorhouse.”
“Yeah,” she said dully, not wanting to admit just how unprepared she'd been ... and too hurt to respond to his hurtful remark about the baby. “We already knew.”
 
 
At first Micheline didn't recognize the strange feeling that stemmed from the base of her throat and ran into her chest. Then she realized it was envy. No wonder she hadn't been able to define it. Micheline rarely felt envious of anyone. She was accustomed to others feeling that way about her, but she couldn't help it as she watched her old friend Yolanda L'Esperance proudly show off her new baby. Yolanda had married Robert Isaacs, a Jacksonville dentist. Before the baby she'd worked as a bookkeeper for a restaurant, but she had given up her job. “We want to have at least one more child, and I probably won't go back to work until my youngest is in school,” she told Micheline.
Micheline and Yolanda had grown up in the same neighborhood in Riviera Beach, largely populated by domestic and blue collar workers who performed services in nearby superwealthy Palm Beach. They'd gone through school together, but now Yolanda had a handsome, successful husband, a beautiful baby boy, and a lovely home. All Micheline had was a nice car, a stunning wardrobe, a few pieces of good jewelry, and a few dollars in the bank. She essentially lived in one room, even if it was just temporary while she decided what part of town to settle in.
Romantically, she didn't even have any real prospects. The man she'd given her phone number to at Wild Wednesday had made no secret of the fact that he was presently separated from his wife. Micheline knew that meant he wasn't getting sex regularly and felt horny. That was all right, for she felt the same way. She was prepared to accept him at face value and have some fun. But what he didn't know yet was that he'd have to spend some money on her before she gave anything up.
Her lips formed into a slight smile. He'd made a move on her as they left the comedy club they'd gone to, which just happened to be located inside a hotel. She gave him points for style, if not for speed.
Looking around at Yolanda's comfortable surroundings made Micheline realize she wasn't getting any younger. She really needed to start looking for a husband. The idea of being married had always appealed to her, especially if she could swing a setup like this. No way would she be like Cécile, working her butt off typing all day while living in a two-by-four house and taking care of all those damn kids, half of whom weren't even hers.
“You know, Michie,” Yolanda was saying, “Rob has a colleague who just broke up with his girlfriend. I'd love to introduce the two of you. I think you'd like each other, and he's a real catch.”
Micheline's envy evaporated. No longer was Yolanda a braggart, rubbing her face in her domestic bliss and semi-swank lifestyle, but a friend who wanted her to meet a successful man, too. Sight unseen, Micheline resolved to make Rob's dentist friend forget all about his former girlfriend, provided he was as good a catch as Yolanda said he was, and provided they were sexually compatible.
No, that wasn't right. She'd wait until she had him hooked before she slept with him. If she handled it carefully, she could get her sexual gratification with the man she was seeing now—she had a date with him tonight—while giving the dentist a line that she was a good Catholic girl who didn't believe in premarital sex. In her heart Micheline knew she could trust Yolanda's judgment. If Yolanda said he was good looking, he was sure to be just that.
Micheline had moved ahead to thinking about children's names when Yolanda said, “I'll call Rob to see when we can get this set up.”
“Wonderful,” Micheline said.
Feeling hopeful about the future beat feeling jealous any day.

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