Vanity Fare (22 page)

Far from the Fattening Crowd

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21

“HELLO?”

It was around 10:00
P.M.
, Aidan had gone to sleep a while ago, and Mom was fussing in the kitchen. It pleased me that she’d taken on some of our domestic tasks—she’d always turned her nose up at mastering any kind of culinary skill as something ordinary women did. I had grabbed a book and was hiding out in the bedroom, waiting for Keisha to call.

My mind, however, refused to concentrate on the feisty heroine and the noble, dangerous hero. Instead I kept replaying that afternoon’s conversation with Nick. It kinda broke a bit of my heart that he would even think me capable of that kind of duplicity. And I had to figure out what to say to that scrapbooking she-devil when I saw her again.

“Hi, Molly.” Not Keisha. A man’s voice. Not John. Definitely not Simon.

“Nick?”

“Yes,” he replied in his pompous voice. Then his tone changed. “Listen, sorry to call so late, but I just got back from a dinner meeting. Is it too late?”

I rolled onto my back on my bed, wishing my heart weren’t pounding so fast. “No, not too late at all. I stay up later than I should, actually. I always mean to go . . .” I was babbling. “Anyway. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to call and say I thought you did a terrific presentation today.” His voice was more than professional. Thank goodness. “The network is very excited about the opening. It was a few of their staff I had dinner with tonight, actually.”

How high school crush-ish of me was it that I was happy he hadn’t just had a date?

“Thanks for calling. I’m really sorry about practicing in front of those women, I had no idea—I was nervous as hell, actually.” Even more when I thought you didn’t trust me.

“Natalie’s a bitch,” he said bluntly. “It’s over, you told me what happened, and it’s fine.” Men. Always able to move on while women chewed discontent like a bone. “I knew you were nervous, which is why I wanted to call and let you know how well you did. And—”

He stopped. I waited a heartbeat, two, then spoke. “What?”

I heard him take a deep breath. “I just wanted to explain about before. About saying no. It’s just . . . well, it wouldn’t be right right now.”

I assumed my cheeriest, doesn’t-bother-me-at-all voice. “No problem. Really.”

He gave a dry chuckle devoid of humor. “No, it is a problem. But I just wanted to tell you, it’s not you. It’s not that I don’t—That is, I wish things were different.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” Different? Different how? Like I was taller? He wasn’t so picky about who he dated? He didn’t want to mix business with pleasure?

He exhaled so hard I could almost feel the breeze in my ear. “Is Aidan free this weekend? I want to take him to that place again.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I promised. Plus I like him, he’s a cool kid.”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “Thanks. Yeah, he’s free anytime. No birthday parties this weekend, thank goodness.”

“Okay. How’s Saturday? Around one? I figured we could grab some pizza and then I could take him over.”

“Saturday’s great.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up, then stared at the phone for a while. He had called me. At home. At ten o’clock at night. To tell me I did well. After I’d screwed up royally. And that he wished things were different.

And that he wanted to hang out with my son.

I was all gooey inside. I mean, I knew the end result was the same, but he thought well enough of me to make the effort to reach me. That meant something, at least. My quick success with Simon might have made me a little cocky, if such a thing were possible. Maybe it was enough that Nick was my friend, had my back, liked Aidan. Maybe he even trusted me. Heck, he’d gotten my mother to listen to advice, and that was something I had never been able to do.

It wasn’t that bad being turned down. Although I wished I could’ve kissed him, just once, to see if his lips felt as good as they looked.

Ah, but what would an about-to-be divorced romance reader be without an unattainable fantasy?

Luckily, the phone rang again before I could answer that question.

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe. How’d it go?” It was Keisha. She’d been my cheerleader throughout the preparations, so I knew she’d want to hear all about it.

“Good. Actually,” I said, trying to sound casual, “Nick just called to tell me the network is really excited. Seems like they might do something on the shop.”

“Nick, huh?” Leave it to Keisha to find the crucial nugget of information in there. “So what else did
Nick
say, hm?”

“That he wished things were different.”

“Different how?”

“He said he had to say no to my asking him out, not because of me, but because things aren’t different, somehow.”

“Well, that’s fairly cryptic. What do you think he means?”

I shrugged, then realized she couldn’t see me. “I don’t know. I’m guessing it has something to do with the whole church and state thing—a while ago, John mentioned I shouldn’t say anything to Nick about Simon.”

“Whoa, slow down. I feel like I need a diagram.”

“Well, basically, I think Nick is the watchdog for the finances and all that—”

“And the dog better not be sniffing around any other bitch’s butt, right?”

“Oh, I love your way with a metaphor. Yeah, that’s it in a nutshell.”

“Or a kibble.”

“You’d better stop or I’m going to have to smack your nose with a newspaper.”

“Only if you leash me first, Mistress. Hey, that’s an idea: phone sex!”

“Um . . . I love you, Keisha, but not that way.”

She giggled. “No, silly, I mean you. To make extra money.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be great:
Are you sure I don’t look fat like this? Oh, okay, go ahead and do your thing, I’ll wait. Are you done yet? Oh, you are? Sorry, I didn’t notice.
Um, I don’t think me doing phone sex is a long-term, or even a short-term, solution to my financial problems.”

“But if Nick called . . . ,” she said in a teasing voice.

I glared. Of course she couldn’t see me. “How come I don’t say a thing, and you still know I’ve got a mad crush on him?”

“You asked him out, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And have you asked anyone out? Ever?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Ergo, you have a mad crush.”

“Hey, why didn’t you become a lawyer? You probably would’ve done a lot better than Hugh.”

“Hmph, no thanks. I’d rather show old movies than wear a suit and get litigious all day.”

“Good point. What was playing tonight?”

“
Wuthering Heights
.”

“Which one?”

“The one with Laurence Olivier. Look, I know you have a mad crush on Timothy Dalton, but that version sucks ass.”

“You’re right, Miss Film Major. But damn, he’s gorgeous.”

“Does Nick look like
him
? Then I could understand all your fussing.”

“Not really. Except maybe in the dark, dangerous way. Oh, and he has black hair.”

“What color eyes?”

“Blue. Dark, stormy blue.”

“Hold on, honey, you’ve got to check yourself. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he turned you down, right?”

I sighed. “Yeah. But, man, is he foxy.”

“So now the bakery thing is done, what’s next?”

“Oh, besides developing my love of scrapbooking?”

“Look, honey, I know you’re white, you don’t have to rub my face in it.”

I cackled. “That’s where you’re wrong. Next to me? With dreads hanging down her back? A woman named Tamsin. Wearing kente cloth, no less.”

“Ouch. Okay, I’m toast. I might as well be dating the Irish carpenter if my sisters are pasting photos into albums with some weird-ass confetti and shit.”

“And next you’ll be following NASCAR.” She snorted. “Next up,” I continued, “I think John has some more work for me. I really can’t do much until I hear from the Teaching Fellows, which’ll be in late May. Hugh sent me the rent money, and I canceled my cell phone. Mom’s been doing some of the cooking—”

“God help you,” Keisha muttered. “—and she’s kept the foreclosure folks at bay while she tries to figure out her finances. Nick gave her some advice on that, too.” I continued speaking over her snort. “She’s been picking up a few things here and there, which is nice. Not enough to live on, certainly, but I think I can make it until I hear.”

“And then what?”

“Well, if I get in, I start training—and getting paid—a few weeks after that. If I don’t? I have no frigging clue.”

“It’s sort of a plan.”

I sighed, and looked out the window. “I don’t know, Keish. I really don’t. I know I have to do something, but I don’t know what.”

“What’s up with the divorce proceedings?”

There I knew I was on solid ground. “Well, I was going to do it all amicably, back when Hugh had a job, but when he lost his job, and told me he couldn’t pay that much, I lost it. He shouldn’t be able to just tell me he can’t support our child and have that be okay.”

She cheered. “You go! I told you not to go down easy. Can I be blunt?”

“Um, like you never have been before?”

“Yeah, right. Well, Hugh is a lazy fuckhead. But, and this is the good part, he’s also a pussy. See, he’ll cave on the whole divorce agreement thing, and you can move forward knowing Aidan will always be okay.”

“If Hugh doesn’t pussy out and become a deadbeat dad.”

“If he does, I
am
getting a law degree so I can sue his ass.”

“Thanks, Keish. It’s nice to know you have my back.”

“Always, honey. Always.”

“So?”

Dr. Lowell pushed her glasses back up on her nose. She was wearing her most intimidating therapist’s outfit: a tasteful plaid suit with a double strand of pearls wrapped around her throat. If I saw her on the street, I would assume she was smarter than me, richer than me, and happier than me. All right, maybe I shouldn’t be going there.

“Well, let’s see. I did that big presentation, and I didn’t fall on my face. Or have lettuce in my teeth. I went to somebody else’s house to do scrapbooking—”

She raised her eyebrows in a question.

“—I’ll explain in a minute. I made a lunch date with some new friends, I asked a man out, an absolutely stunning man wants me but I don’t want him, my mother is
not
driving me crazy, Aidan is a sweetheart, Hugh is a jerk, and Keisha still lives three thousand miles away.”

She leaned back, resting her hands on her knees. Her manicure was perfect. “Sounds like you’ve had a busy week.”

I laughed. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You sound good.” She sounded pleased.

“I am.” Now I sounded pleased.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Sure. I mean, besides the list?”

She nodded.

“I don’t know if I can explain it.” She wrinkled her nose at me. I held my hand up before she could speak. “Okay, I know, that’s why I’m here. To explain. Okay. Well, with Simon, the thing is—he’s gorgeous, but he knows it. And honestly, I’m not sure how much we have in common, besides both of us thinking he’s beautiful. He doesn’t read, he’s a total go-getter business guy, and Aidan doesn’t like him.”

“Has Aidan told you so?”

I grimaced. “He asked me if foreign people—Simon’s British, remember—were supposed to be here because we got our freedom from his country. And was there someone we should call to tell on him so he’d have to leave.”

“Okay, then. So you’ll dump him. That must feel—”

“Weird. Yeah, it is. I did dump him already, actually. And I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever dumped anyone before. Not really. Especially not someone I’d usually be gnawing on my arm to get.”

“But it’s not right. And you know it. So you did the right thing and stopped it before either one of you gets hurt.” She gave an approving nod.

“Mm.”

“How’s the financial situation?”

I heaved a sigh. “Bad. Not as bad as I’d first thought, but pretty bad. I’m checking into alternate insurance plans, and Mom and I are cooking, but—well, you know, I haven’t paid you in a while.” I knotted my fingers together and leaned forward on her couch. She waved her hand in dismissal.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s worry about getting you on your feet first and then paying me. I’ll survive.” Good, because without her, I couldn’t have survived myself this long.

“Do you really think I’ll be able to make it?” I watched my hands clench each other.

“Look at me, Molly.” I looked up and met her gaze. It was kind and warm. Immediately my insides relaxed a tiny bit. This was why she was worth every penny I didn’t have. “I have confidence in you.
You
have to have confidence in you. And I know you can do this, and be happy.”

“Funny, a lady at a bar told me the same thing,” I said in a reflective tone. I flapped my hands. “But never mind. Really, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I mean, Hugh always talked about getting things, and buying stuff, and eating fancy meals—me, I just want enough to be able to give Aidan some of the toys he wants, have seafood once in a while, and buy new jeans in the fall. That’s it. It doesn’t take much.”

“And you’re more than capable of managing it. I know you are. Do you know you are?”

I exhaled. A big, life-affirming sigh that seemed as if it could sweep away all my doubts and insecurities. “Yes. I know I am.”

She smiled and leaned back in her chair. “See? And once you know that, you can do anything.”

“Now you sound like Helen Reddy.”

She looked puzzled.

“ ‘I Am Woman?’ Australian pop singer from the 1970s? Don’t tell me you never heard that song.”

She chuckled. “Yes, of course. And speaking of which, how are things going with Hugh?”

I stretched my legs out in front of me and clasped my hands behind my head. “He’s going to regret my going all Helen Reddy on his ass. I’ve asked my lawyer to try to get sufficient child support, to put everything down in writing. Thank God I paid him in advance. Originally, we had a gentleman’s agreement without official documentation, but since he’s no gentleman, I’m not going to leave it up to chance. Of course, it could take longer this way, but that doesn’t matter to me.”