Small Change (15 page)

“I love you, too,” he assured her, and then he was gone, leaving Jess with nothing but a dial tone and a heavy heart.

She went to her piano and played Greig's “Piano Concerto in A minor” then moved on to Shostakovich.

Banging the keys helped her work out some of her sadness and anger, but she still had plenty left over when she was done. It kept her in the clutches of a bad mood the rest of the day and she was still feeling grumpy when she arrived at Rachel's house late that afternoon to take her friend shopping.

Rachel took one look at her and demanded, “All right, what's wrong?”

“Other than wanting to kill my husband? Nothing,” Jess replied.

Rachel gave her an empathetic look. “You two are the closest thing I know to a perfect couple. You're not going to go bursting my bubble, are you?”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Jess said, and managed a smile.

“What wouldn't you dream of?” asked Tiffany, who was now in the open doorway.

“Never mind,” said Rachel, sensing Jess didn't want to talk about her problems on the home front.

Rachel was right. Jess didn't want to talk about it, not with her girlfriends, not even with her husband. Especially not with her husband. He would be lucky if she ever talked to him again.

“
H
ave you got your money?” Tiffany asked Rachel before they set out on their bargain shopping safari.

Rachel held up a twenty-dollar bill. “I do.”

“Twenty dollars?” That was what Rachel was spending on a new single-and-ready-to-mingle wardrobe? Tiffany was good but she wasn't that good.

“This is all I'm going to spend,” Rachel announced. “Anyway, I am who am, and anyone I date may as well know it up front.”

“Absolutely,” said Jess, “but you can still be who you are and have some hotter clothes.” She linked arms with Rachel and led her out the front door, adding, “Remember, there's nothing wrong with self-improvement.”

Tiffany smiled and followed them out. Jess was one smart woman.

Bargain Boutique was a fairly new business, located in Valentine Square in what used to be a jewelry store. Bonnie, who ran the consignment store, was as tall as Rachel. She was now a regular at Salon H, always coming in to get her nails done, maintain her blondeness, or add hair extensions. Tiffany had alerted her that they would be arriving with a bargain makeover in tow. She'd described Rachel in great detail and now Bonnie stood ready with an assortment of clothes for Rachel to try on.

“Just like at Nordstrom's,” Tiffany explained.

“Only more affordable,” added Bonnie.

“I hope so,” said Rachel. “I've got a whole twenty to blow.”

Bonnie shot a look at Tiffany as to ask if Rachel thought she could work miracles there at Bargain Boutique and Tiffany managed a little shrug. She moved over to the clothes Bonnie had set aside and started sorting through them. “Since we've only got twenty to spend, that's out. And forget the jeans.”

“I already have jeans anyway,” added Rachel. She drifted over to a rack and began moving clothes. She pulled off a yellow sweater set and held it up for Jess to see. “This is pretty.”

Jess snatched it from her and hung it back up. “Not on you.”

Rachel pouted. “Why not?”

“It will turn your skin sallow,” said Tiffany, pulling out a knit navy top. She paired it with a hot pink sweater, then handed them to Rachel, along with a sleeveless black satin top. “Here. Try these on.”

Still pouting, Rachel took the items and stepped into the dressing room at the far corner of the shop.

Meanwhile, Tiffany kept sorting through the clothes. “Yay! You did have some hot shorts.”

Bonnie held up a halter top with a floral pattern in varying shades of red. “I thought this would look good on her, too.”

Tiffany checked the price. It was only seven dollars. “Absolutely.”

“Oh, yeah,” agreed Jess. “That goes in the keeper pile.”

Tiffany turned to see that Rachel had stepped out of the dressing room to model the black top. Combined with her long, dark hair it turned her into a goddess of sleek. Well, as long as you ignored the bits of gray in her hair and the fact that she was wearing those ugly tennis shoes with her jeans. She struck a pose. “What do you guys think?”

“Perfect,” Tiffany approved. “Add some silver jewelry and a pencil skirt and it will be totally hot.”

“Or she could wear it with her jeans and some cute shoes,” added Jess, drifting over to the counter to sort through a basket of jewelry.

Rachel nodded decisively. “I'm getting it. That's ten dollars. I have ten left to spend.”

Tiffany looked at the floral top and frowned. “I guess we'll have to put this back.”

“I'll get it for her,” offered Jess. She held up a sterling silver cuff bracelet. “And this.”

“No, you won't,” Rachel called from the dressing room.

“Yes, I will,” Jess insisted. “We're not out of money yet.”

Rachel stepped back out, modeling the navy top and pink sweater. “That looks great,” Tiffany approved.

Rachel nodded. “I'll take it. And that's the end of my money so I'm done.”

Tiffany took the white shorts over to her. “Try these on. They're only five dollars. If they fit I'll buy them for you.”

“Then we need to get her some decent sandals,” said Jess.

“I'm afraid I can't help you there,” said Bonnie.

“That's okay,” said Tiffany. “There's a great discount shoe store over in the mall. Don't worry,” she added, knowing Rachel was firm on not spending any more money. “I'll take care of it.”

Both Rachel and Jess looked at her like she'd fessed up to planning a bank robbery. “I don't think going anywhere near the mall is a good idea,” said Rachel.

“I have some tip money. And I've got eBay money coming in at the end of the week, too.”

“Which you're supposed to be using to pay off your credit cards,” Rachel reminded her.

“It's okay. I can handle it.”

“So can I,” Rachel said decidedly. She snatched the shorts from Tiffany without even bothering to try them on and marched to the counter. “I'll write a check for all this, then use my cash to buy sandals. Will you take a check?”

“Sure,” Bonnie said, looking guiltily from one woman to the other like it was, somehow, her fault Rachel was spending more than she intended. “By the way, Tiffany told me about how you're helping each other with saving money. I think it's a great idea.”

“Well, we're trying,” said Rachel.

“Think of all the money we just saved,” Tiffany told her, feeling immensely pleased with how much she was accomplishing for her friend on so little.

“I'm still not sure about the mall,” Jess worried as they left Bargain Boutique.

“I'll be fine. If I even touch anything, you guys pull me away,” said Tiffany.

“Gladly,” said Rachel. “We don't want Brian to murder you and bury you in the backyard. Which he'll probably do if he sees you coming home with anything more.”

Rachel's words jogged Tiffany's memory. She suddenly had a vision of a small pile of packages sitting on the porch. She'd bought a few little bargains on eBay. It was nothing much, but Brian might not understand if he saw them. She checked her watch. Could she make it to the shoe store and then home before Brian got there? She was sure going to try.

Jess was still putting on her seat belt when Tiffany roared off down the street. “Whoa,” she protested. “Where's the fire?”

“I still have children to raise,” Rachel added as they squealed around a corner. “And you can't afford another speeding ticket.”

Tiffany wasn't sure she could afford another fight with Brian, either, but she slowed down to a semireasonable speed.

The Shoe Bin was Rachel's favorite discount shoe store. “We'll find the best bargains here,” she said as they walked in.

Jess got stalled in front of a display of flashy flip-flops. Rachel stopped, too, but Tiffany pulled her away. “Come on. They'll have those on the aisle anyway.”

By now Jess had caught up with them and was carrying a delicate silver sandal. “How about this?”

“That would go great with my new silver bracelet,” said Rachel, reaching for it.

Jess jerked it away. “I meant for me.”

“Here they are in your size,” said Tiffany, pulling out a box. “Try them on.”

Rachel pulled off her tennis shoes and socks, and Tiffany snagged a couple of cut-up nylons for her feet. She slipped on the sandals.

“Oh, yes,” approved Jess. “Those with jeans and your new top and that silver bracelet and you're lookin' like something.”

They did look great. “Perfect,” Tiffany approved. She sneaked a look at her watch. If they left right now …

Jess was reaching for another box. “Hey, try these on.”

“Those silver ones are perfect,” said Tiffany.

“I like these, too,” said Rachel, reaching for the next pair of sandals.

She tried them on. She walked up and down the aisle in them. Then she tried on the silver sandals again. “I don't know.”

“Buy both,” suggested Tiffany.
Then we can get out of here
.

“No. I only have money for one.” Rachel stood for a moment, looking at both boxes.

“Then live it up,” said Jess. “Go for the silver.”

Rachel smiled and nodded. “I think I will.”

“See. You can wear fabulous shoes and still be you,” Jess teased as they moved to the cash register.

“Maybe there's more to me than I realized,” Rachel admitted.

Tiffany tried not to pace as the clerk rang up her friend's purchase. She strolled over to a display by the door. Ooooh, those heels were cute. And they were on sale. She picked one up.

And felt a hand on her arm. “Oh, no. No purchases for you, little lady,” said Jess. She took the shoe out of Tiffany's hand and returned it to the display. “But I tell you what. I'll buy you a blended coffee drink before we go.”

Go. They had to go. “Umm, can I pass? I forgot, I need to get home right away.”

Jess looked surprised, but she nodded and said, “Sure.”

“Okay, I'm done,” Rachel announced, joining them.

Good. Maybe, if she drove just a little over the speed limit, she could still beat Brian home.

No such luck. His Jeep was already parked in the driveway when she pulled in. Maybe the packages hadn't come. She didn't see any on the porch. She let out her breath. Saved.

“This was great,” Rachel was saying. “I'm now a beauty on a budget.”

“You mean diva on a dime,” teased Jess, grinning at Tiffany.

“That, too.” Rachel hugged them both. “Thanks, you two.”

“No problem,” said Tiffany, who was already breathing easier. Since her packages hadn't arrived there would be no problem at home. Thank God.

But there was a problem at home. She slipped inside the door to see a tiny tower of boxes on the entryway floor. Uh-oh.

Brian wasn't going to be interested in hearing about these bar-gains, even though one was a book on how to make money selling on eBay and another was a postal scale she could use to weigh her merchandise at home. Those, at least, were justifiable. It was going to be harder to explain the Pottery Barn pitcher she'd gotten for a song—until she had to pay shipping—or the Juicy Couture tote bag she'd snagged. Suddenly, as if she was psychic, she could hear the conversation between her and Brian.

B
RIAN
:
Don't tell me you needed all that stuff.

T
IFFANY
:
I did. Really.

B
RIAN
:
Yeah? What did you need that green bag for?

T
IFFANY
:
To carry all my stuff when I'm at garage sales.

B
RIAN
:
You're joking, right?

Tiffany suddenly felt like she did when she ate too much sugar, all full and barfy and disgusted with her
self. She could have used an old bag or even a grocery bag. Why hadn't she thought of that when she was bidding on the Juicy Couture one? Her heart began pounding painfully against her chest. What was she going to do? What could she say?
Come on, brain. Think!

“I can't,” replied her brain. Who could blame it? Bidding fever, like gold fever, had no rational explanation.

She wanted to run away. Instead, she called, “I'm home,” trying to make her voice sound normal.

She got no answer. Oh, this was so not good.

“Bri?” She went through the living room and into the kitchen. She found him under the sink, repairing the leak she'd been after him to fix for the last two weeks. “Oh, you're fixing the sink. Thanks!” Brian was home and happily puttering. All was well.

But he didn't say anything. No “You're welcome.” Not even a “Where have you been?”

She tried another conversation starter. “You beat me home.” Well, duh. She hurried on. “We were giving Rachel a makeover at Bargain Boutique.”

He came out from under the sink and set his wrench on the counter. He kept his back to her as he dried his hands on a rag. “And what did you buy there?”

His voice sounded like steel. She pulled out a kitchen bar stool and sat down because her legs suddenly felt as incapable of helping her as her brain. “Nothing.”

“No money left?”

Now he turned and looked at her. Tiffany felt suddenly cold and rubbed her arms. “I …” Her brain refused to supply her with any words, forcing her to stop there.

“You. Yeah, that about sums it up, Tiff. It's all about you. That's who you were thinking about when you bought all that crap in the hall. It sure wasn't us. It sure wasn't about helping us get out of debt, was it?”

“Brian.” Again, she couldn't seem to get anything else out although her heart was crying, “Please don't be mad. Please give me
another chance. Please love me through this even though I know I don't deserve it.”

“I'm moving out.”

“What?”
Oh, please tell me I'm dreaming this
. “Brian, no. Don't leave me.”

“I think we need some time apart. I just …” He shook his head, his jaw suddenly clenched.

“Just what?” She could barely get the words out.

“I can't stay here and watch you do this. It's like being married to an addict who won't go for help.”

“I'm working on this,” she said, her voice pleading. She was. Yes, she had a little slip once in a while, but she was really trying. Why couldn't he see that?

He heaved a sigh and shook his head. Then he took his wrench and started for the garage.

“Where are you going?” she protested. His home was here. With her.

“To put this away.”

“I mean after.”

“I don't know yet. I'll let you know.”

She followed him and stood in the doorway, watching as he carefully hung his wrench back in place on the garage wall where he kept his tools. “So you want a divorce?” She could barely get the words out. She sounded like she was dying. Well, duh. She was.

“I don't know that either. I'll let you know,” he said.

Let her know? Let her know? Oh, no.

He looked at her sadly. “God, Tiff. We used to be so happy. What happened?”