We Interrupt This Date (12 page)

“Go,” I said, lifting Cole out of her arms
and waving her toward the stairs. Out of habit I glanced at the
answering machine before I sat in the chair she’d just vacated. No
messages. But then DeLorean would have answered the phone while I
was out and told me if anyone had called. I’d have to get used to
not living alone, even though it was only a few weeks since
Christian went away to college.

Cole started fussing the minute DeLorean left
the room. I managed to get him to take a spoonful of his peas,
which he then promptly spat at me. I cleaned the two of us and sat
in a rocker with him and hummed Brahms’ Lullaby. After about ten
minutes, his eyes started to droop and he was nearly asleep when
Brad broke into a barking fit.

The baby startled awake and wailed loud
enough to wake Rip Van Winkle if he’d been sacked out in the next
room. I beamed a couple of choice thoughts Brad’s way. I expected
DeLorean to hear Cole’s distress cries and rush back down to take
him over from me, but she didn’t put in an appearance.

Sighing with frustration, I got up and walked
Cole back and forth from the front door to the kitchen. Yesterday
at this time I was still at work, wishing I were home. I’d been
looking forward to lunch with Jack. Funny how fast things could
change.

The phone rang and, even though the sound
prompted Brad to break into a fresh barking session and Cole to
break into a fresh round of crying, I was glad for the
interruption. “Caraway residence, Susan speaking,” I said
breathlessly.

“Honey, you sound like you were expecting Tom
Cruise to give you a ring. Is that a baby I hear?” Patty sounded as
cheery as ever.

“How did you know? Could it have been the
distinctive, ear-splitting wail? My sister flew in from LA with her
baby this afternoon.” My voice was considerably less cheery. I
hadn’t been expecting Tom Cruise, but somehow I’d gotten the idea
that Jack might call to reschedule our lunch date.

No, not a date, just lunch. But still.

“Brenda is on the other line with a customer.
She said to ask where you keep the copies of the loan contracts
because she can’t find them and she’s practically turned the office
inside out. She has, too, wait ‘til you see it. It’s completely
rearranged, but I don’t like the feng shui at all. She’s got the
trashcan in the family center and she refuses to listen when I try
to tell her she’s setting herself up for problems with Odell.”

“I think problems with Odell are in the job
description.”

“Whatever. I’m going to miss you, Susan.
Brenda is simply too opinionated and she says she doesn’t believe
in the Universe. How can you not believe in the Universe? I mean,
it’s right out there.”

Cole let out an extra loud wail, and Brad
responded by throwing himself against the door of the utility room
and howling like a love-starved werewolf. “The contracts are in
Odell’s file cabinet next to his desk. He doesn’t let them out of
his sight.”

“I’ll tell her. Sounds like you have your
hands full, so I’ll let you go.”

“Later, Patty.”

What made her think I had my hands full? She
couldn’t possibly know that Brad needed another walk and Cole
needed his diaper changed and my sister was working on a new
Guinness record for napping.

By seven o’clock, DeLorean still hadn’t come
downstairs. I fixed Cole a bottle and took him to her room. She
rolled over sleepily and reached for him, cuddling him next to
her.

“Thanks,” she whispered huskily.

I experienced a moment of tenderness toward
the little sister who used to follow me everywhere and copy
everything I did. She’d even named her favorite doll after me,
though I hadn’t been exactly thrilled to have a grubby,
green-haired, one-eyed namesake that lived naked in the toy
box.

The tender feeling lasted until I got back
downstairs and discovered that Brad hadn’t been gentleman enough to
wait for his next walk. I had to tie him to an oak tree in the back
yard while I shoveled the mess off the utility room floor.

I turned on the TV and alternated between
watching Casablanca–again--and reading a book about country houses.
When was someone going to write a book about divorce houses?

The phone rang and when I glanced at the
caller ID, I gave up all thoughts of feeling sorry for myself.

“Hello, Jack.”

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“I’m watching Casablanca.” I grabbed the
remote and pressed mute. Rick was in the middle of telling Ilsa
that they’d always have Paris.

“Woman, you need to get a life.”

“Sorry about canceling lunch, but
DeLorean few in from LA with a crisis situation.” My voice was flat
and matter-of-fact, but inside I was screaming,
Damn it, why does my sister have such rotten
timing?

“We can reschedule. But I need to ask you something.
I kind of need a woman’s opinion about the master bath in my new
place, the house I’m renovating. Think you can help me out?”

“You’re talking to a woman who’s relatively
clueless when it comes to home decor.” I wasn’t colorblind, though
Mama had accused me in injured tones of being color impaired when I
tried to hang purple drapes on the windows of my scarlet walled
dining room. Hey, even I knew it wasn’t a match, but they were on
sale and I was too tired to keep shopping. “But if you think I can
help, I’d be glad to tell you what I think about your
bathroom.”

“Great. I’m working part of the day tomorrow.
I’ll call you when I get off and we’ll arrange to go over there and
take a look.”

He had to cut the call short. When I put the
receiver down, I caught a reflection of myself in the kitchen
window and saw that I was grinning like a demented smiley face.

So what? I was glad he’d phoned, despite my
doubts over the value of my bathroom decorating input. For a few
minutes I’d been able to feel like a desirable woman instead of
DeLorean’s overworked sister. Maybe I could sneak away during the
bathroom inspection and use my cell phone to consult Veronica about
the decorating and then return with priceless advice. When Kelly
The Girlfriend showed up, she’d be thankful for my help. We’d
become good friends, maybe even go shopping together.

Something in my forehead started to thump
like a jungle drum. I hoped Kelly hated Charleston.

DeLorean dragged herself into the kitchen,
Cole in tow, about ten minutes after I got out of the shower in the
morning. The makeup she’d forgotten to remove yesterday had turned
into a dark bandit mask around her eyes, proof that she was just as
tired and wrung out as she’d told me she was. She put Cole in his
carrier, one of those all purpose models that doubles as a car seat
and also fits into a baby carriage and a grocery cart. Then she
plopped down at the table and assumed the expression of someone
who’d just lost all her friends and had no prospects of getting new
ones.

On cue, a wave of pity swept over me. Despite
her protests that she was better off without “the flaming
narcissist,” she had to be deeply hurt over his rejection of her
and Cole.

“Coffee?” I leaned across the table and
squeezed her shoulder, and she beamed me a grateful smile.

“Sure. I’m still on California time and this
is way too early for me to be out of bed. Right when I drifted off
to sleep after you brought him up, Cole started howling.”

I’d heard him, all the way downstairs in the
family room. Now I wished I’d gone back up and taken him to give
her a break. “Does he wake up a lot at night?”

“God, does he ever. If I’m especially tired,
the little imp thinks after midnight is play time.”

“Christian used to do the same thing. And
speaking of Christian, he’s going to love having Cole around. He
always wanted a little brother. Of course, he won’t be home from
college all that much.”

“I’ll bet he’ll make a terrific babysitter.”
She put a dab of sugar in her coffee and whirred her spoon in the
cup as if she were carrying out an experiment to see if coffee
would whip up like cream.

DeLorean hadn’t told me much about the break
up. We were both tired yesterday and I hadn’t pressed her. But I
figured this was a good time for her to tell me what she had in
mind as far as finding a job and a place of her own.

I fixed her a couple of slices of cinnamon
toast without asking if she was hungry. I got a carton of plain
yogurt for myself and topped it with banana slices.

“What happened with you and Baldwin?” With
anyone else, I’d have been less direct, but DeLorean was my sister
and if she was going to live at my house, I needed to know what was
going on.

“He was a creep. I wanted an acting or
modeling career followed by that perfect marriage I’ve always
dreamed of, a little house with a picket fence, kids.” She bit her
lip and blinked back tears. “Baldwin wanted a good time, not a
commitment. He was furious when he found out I was pregnant. I’d
never seen him so angry. Like it was all my fault. But I swear, we
only--”

I held up my hand. “Spare me the
details.”

As if her son had understood what she was
saying, Cole let out a wail. DeLorean lifted him and cuddled him
close.

She nuzzled his hair and said, “Poor little
man. I didn’t pick a very good daddy for you, did I?”

DeLorean had been crazy about dolls when she
was a little girl and she always said she wanted a dozen babies
when she grew up. The problem was, she seemed to have started on
the baby collection prematurely. I felt bad that Cole would grow up
without his father. At least by the time T. Chandler and I
divorced, Christian was nearly grown. But I’d still felt guilty,
despite Christian’s reassurances that his father had treated me
badly and didn’t deserve me.

“I know it’s awful right now, but you’ll get
back on your feet. Meanwhile, you’ll have to manage on whatever
child support Baldwin gives you.”

“Child support?” She stared at the wall. A
delicate pink flush colored her cheeks. “Would you believe he’s
buried to the hilt with child support payments and alimony for his
two ex-wives? There’s barely enough left for me to buy diapers,
even if he decided to support Cole.”

“What?” My voice went up a full octave. “I
never knew he had ex-wives and child support. Anyway, I thought
Baldwin was rich. He certainly bragged enough about his expensive
furniture and his decorator and his Porsche--his whole designer
life.”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you about his
marriages? It must have slipped my mind because I’m sure it’s
something I would have told you. Anyway, after two failures,
Baldwin said he was afraid to commit, even though he fooled me into
believing him when he said I was the love of his life. And
he
would
be rich—he makes
plenty of money--except the wives and kids get it all. There are
three of them. Kids, I mean. Besides Cole. All that stuff you
saw--the apartment, the furniture, his car? Credit cards. I blinded
myself to the truth until it was too late.”

She said this with as much emotion as a
waitress reciting the dinner special at the Crab Shack. Obviously
she’d rehearsed and was doing her best to minimize the impact.
My ex is a deadbeat. Could you please pass the orange
juice?

I slumped in my chair like a deflated beach
ball. DeLorean was going to have to manage on her own—with my
help--because her baby’s father seemed to have overbooked when it
came to providing for his children. Or maybe in his case it would
be more appropriate to follow Mama’s example and say
“offspring.”

“It’s not the end of life as you know it on
planet earth. We’ll find you a job and eventually you’ll be ready
to move on.”

“Job?” DeLorean looked at me, with tears
welling in the corners of her eyes. “I’m too broken up right now to
even think about work. Besides, you live a million miles from
nowhere. How am I supposed to get to work without a car?”

A neighborhood in the suburbs of Mount
Pleasant was not exactly the frontier. I pondered for a few
seconds. I had a small emergency savings account. “I might be able
to help with the down payment for a car. Nothing fancy or brand
new, but transportation’s all you need.”

She was shaking her head before I finished
speaking. “I couldn’t possibly afford daycare. I mean, it’s not
like I’m qualified for a high paying job. All my salary would go to
keep Cole, probably in some understaffed nursery where he’d be
lonely and neglected in a wet diaper all day. He’d cry his heart
out, you know he would, and I’d feel like a terrible mother.”

“Come on, DeLorean, you have no way of
knowing what kind of--”

“There’s no reason to take a chance, no
reason for me to trade my salary for daycare. I’ll just stay home
with Cole and do your housework or something. When he’s older, and
I’m over the breakup, I’ll decide what kind of career I want.”

What, when Cole was ready for college? My
sister needed a reality check and she needed it now. If I could
have afforded a live in housekeeper, I’d already have one.

“You have a degree in elementary education,”
I ground out.

Her expression went serene. “True, but I’ve
never actually taught school and I’m not sure I want to. I’m
thinking of going back to college. Maybe I’ll get a nursing degree
and help sick people. But right now--I couldn’t handle a job, not
with what I’m going through.”

I bit back a remark that would have left
scorch marks on my tongue. I could see DeLorean’s side--up to a
point. And no one knew better than I did that jobs weren’t to be
had for the asking. But she wasn’t a child to be looked after by
her sister. And despite the fact that she was willing to trade
housework for room and board, the arrangement would be hard on
me.