Yankee Doodle Dixie (24 page)

“Is Leelee there?”

“This is she.”

“Hi Leelee, it’s Liam White,” he says in a cheery voice.

What in
the world
is going on? I’m shocked and confused all at the same time. Just a weak, “Hi,” is all I manage to say before mouthing to Johnny, “It’s him,” and pointing to the receiver in my hand.

“I wish I had known I was calling the request line. That’s all they gave me in information. I finally wised up after it rung two hundred times before your deejay ever picked up the phone.”

“Okay.”

“Did you get the message that I called yesterday?”

“Yes, and I called you back.” Now it’s my voice that’s sounding icy. Well, maybe just a little icy.

“When?”

This guy really
is
psycho. “Okay, well. It’s nice talking to you again.” I look over at Johnny, who flutters his fingers in an amused wave and leaves my office.

“Are you hanging up?” He sounds shocked.

“I’m at work and I can’t really talk,” I whisper back, and pivot my chair around so I’m facing the corner, just in case Stan or Edward walks by. “Besides, you weren’t interested in talking with me yesterday, and honestly I don’t understand why you want to talk with me now. You certainly didn’t seem happy that I had your phone number.” I say the last little bit more loudly—my tone rising as I explain my feelings. At the very least, I can be proud I stood up for myself, and to Liam White of all people—this is a very different Leelee than the pushover who was left to fend for herself in Vermont.

“I never talked with you, hon. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This guy is very strange, Leelee. Just hang up the phone.
“Well, I talked with someone and he didn’t want to talk to me, so I—”

“Wait a minute. I bet you talked to Deke. Shit. I gave your deejay Deke’s phone number by mistake. And I forgot to tell him.”

“What are you talking about?” I say.

“I am truly sorry. I’m in the habit of giving out Deke’s phone number instead of mine since he handles most of my business. He doesn’t trust me to write things down,” he says, with a chuckle. “Sometimes I can be a bit flaky. Here, let me give you mine.”

I’m stunned. But I’m still not sure whether to believe him or not. In a rare moment of silence I hold my tongue, waiting.

“Have you got a pen?”

“Yes,” I say, reaching across my desk.

He gives me his number. “Leelee, I am so so sorry. Was Deke rude to you? He’s got a real abrupt manner to him sometimes.”

“He was pretty rude.”

“It’s his job to look out for me. This is my fault. Honestly, he didn’t know I called you.”

After spending a miserable evening last night, beating myself up for not listening to Alice and Virginia, I don’t quite know what to think or say. “Well, then, how are you?” I say, for lack of something more creative.

“I’m feeling pretty good. Got a day off today in West Palm Beach. It’s eighty-four degrees and the hotel we’re at has a killer pool. Have you been to West Palm before?”

“Yes, but it’s been a while.”

“We’re headed to Boston next week. Then I’m in New York for a couple of days. I’d fly you up there if you wanted to come.”

I’m so completely stunned by his words I cannot speak. Could I have actually heard him invite me to New York City?

“Hello. Leelee, are you still there?”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“I think you are adorable. I’d like to get to know you better.”

All right. That’s it. I’ve lost it. Bolivar here I come.

“If it’s the room you’re worried about, that’s not an issue. I’ll get you your own.”

I’ll say you will.
I have a million questions I’m dying to ask him. Like
Are you married?
for starters. Alice’s silly qualms have now started to alarm me. “Gosh, I haven’t been working here all that long,” I say. “I don’t think I have any vacations days coming to me.” It’s more of a thought than an answer.

“Oh, well another time then,” he says matter-of-factly, but with obvious disappointment in his voice.

“Oh! I didn’t mean that I
couldn’t
come, I just mean I’ll have to ask. That’s all.”

“Okay. I get that.”

We’d been talking a whole two minutes when Edward slides into the room. “Leelee? Would you come to my office please?”

“Oh sure, Edward. I’ll be right there,” I say, pushing the receiver away from my mouth.

Instead of turning around and walking back out the door, he stands there waiting for me.

“Thank you so much for calling,” I say in a very professional tone. “I’ll make sure the tickets are mailed to you when they come in.” This time,
I
hang up on Liam White.

I peer up at Edward, guilt written all over my face.

“Who was that?” he asks.

“A sinner. I mean a
winner,
” I say, and follow him into his office. A half hour later I emerge numb and weary from the droning instructions Edward gave me about our latest promotion—reiterating again all of the particular rules about contest giveaways, prize distribution, and the sneaky salespeople who will try and coerce me into giving away products that haven’t yet arrived. But not even his dull tone could spoil the adrenaline rush from Liam White’s telephone call.

So what now? A rock star has just invited me to join him in New York City. And I
hung up
on him. What are my best friends going to say? I send them all a text asking if there’s any way they can meet me for lunch at Molly’s, a Mexican restaurant close to the station.

*   *   *

The girls are already seated at the table when I show up a little after twelve. With large, bifolded menus covering their faces, they don’t even see me slip into my seat.

“Y’all are going to scream your head off when I tell you this,” I say, as soon as I sit down.

All three menus close at the same time and six eyes stare at me, accented by high-arched brows. “What!” they all answer at once.

“Guess.”

“It’s something about Liam White,” Virgy says. “I know that look on your Fiery face.”

Mary Jule lays her menu down on the table and folds her arms on top of it. “Oh, Leelee. I still feel bad about the advice I gave you. I should have told you not to call him back.”

Alice says, “You never listen to me, do you?”

“Liam-White-just-invited-me-to-New-York,” I say, trying hard to contain myself, but running all my words together regardless.

Mary Jule stands right up at her seat, balls her hands into fists, and moves her arms around and around in circles, swaying her hips. “I knew it. I knew it,” she sings.

“Okay. I don’t usually do this, but I’m putting a stop to this right now. After the way that asshole talked to you on the phone. Give me his number. He’s deranged,” Alice says.

“It wasn’t him I talked to.” I explain the whole story about how I’d really talked with his road manager, Deke.

Alice is skeptical at first. Mary Jule is dreamy-eyed. Virginia, in a total about-face, is beside herself. “Fiery, this is so you. I don’t know anyone else in the world that would get an invitation from a rock star to go to New York. When are you leaving?”

With her right arm, Alice slices the air to form a large
T
. “Time out,” she says. “We don’t even have any proof that he’s not married. And even if he’s not, how do you know he doesn’t have a disease?”

“Oh my gosh. I just thought about something,” Mary Jule says, ignoring Alice’s last comment. “Remember that movie,
The Banger Sisters
with Goldie Hawn and Susan Sarandon?” She glances around the table, waiting for all of us to confirm that we remember. Then she leans into the table and lowers her voice. “They take plasters of those rock stars’ members.” Stirring her Tab with a cocktail straw, she leans down to take a small sip.

“I swear to god, Fiery, if you don’t at least take a measuring stick,” Virginia says.

I stare expressionless at Alice and Mary Jule. “Did she just say what I think she said?”

“She said it,” Mary Jule says, and her artful smile melts into laughter.

“I am not finding this funny,” I say.

“I’m sorry,” Mary Jule goes on, “but I have this mental picture of you digging in your purse for one of those soft measuring tapes, ‘Hold on, Liam, Virginia needs to know your measurements.’”

I slap my hand on the table. “Would you please listen to yourselves? I mean, seriously now. Y’all already have me sleeping with the guy.”

“I’m only teasing,” Mary Jule says.

“I’ll tell you right now he’s going to expect you to,” Alice says.

“No, he is not. He told me that he’d get me my own room.”

Alice looks off to the side, as if she’s pondering my potential for a sordid life. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m getting way ahead of myself. Of course you’re not going to bed with him. But you have to realize how vulnerable you are.”

“Plus, what about Peter?” Mary Jule asks.

“What
about
Peter? Everything he said at George Clark’s parking lot, when I left Vermont, was just a show of emotion. He doesn’t care for me that way. If he did, he wouldn’t let not having a job stand in the way.”

Alice says, “I don’t believe it.”

“Then why don’t I hear from him?”

“He told you he didn’t think he could handle a long-distance relationship. And more importantly, he doesn’t have a job
here
. Maybe it’s too hard for him to call you. Why don’t you call him?” Alice says.

“I don’t know. I’m trying to let him go.”

“Have you heard from Baker?” Virginia asks.

“He calls the girls every couple of weeks, and all he talks about is how great things are going for him in Vermont. He says he wants the girls to spend their summers there. They aren’t going to want to leave me to spend their summers freezing to death. He’s dreaming.”

Virginia chews and swallows the tortilla chip she’s just dunked in salsa. “Okay, back to Liam White. How will you get off work?”

“I’ll have to call in sick. There’s no way Edward will let me go, nor could I ever tell him. I’ll have to sneak.”

“I’ll call this afternoon and get you an appointment for a spray tan.” Mary Jule reaches over and looks at my fingers. “And a manicure.”

“Will Kissie watch the girls?” Virginia asks.

I look at her like she’s crazy.

“I was just going to offer, that’s all,” she says.

“I know, thank you,” I say, patting her hand. “But Kissie’s here, thank goodness.”

*   *   *

When I get back to the office, I start pretending like I’m not feeling all that well. With the fake flu coming on I figure I better start the symptoms now if I’m going to accept Liam White’s offer. And the thought of that offer, spending a fantasy weekend with him in New York, has got to be the most surreal notion that has ever crossed my mind. It’s hard to imagine that it’s even a notion to begin with. Six months ago I was in Vermont fighting off black flies, nor’easters, and snowdrifts; eight months before that I was still in my Memphis dream home with a loving husband and two daughters. It’s all too much to take in sometimes, and when an opportunity like this comes along—to escape, really escape—well, I’d be a fool not to take it. It might be only for two days but it’s been a really long time since I’ve done something fanciful and entirely for me. Heck, it’s been years since anyone’s pampered me. I’ll call Liam White and accept his invitation as soon as I leave for the day. Sure it’s a little indulgent, but it is New York City after all. I can think of no better place to bask in extravagance.

Chapter Ten

Kissie’s rooting around my kitchen when I get home. Actually she’d call it “rambling” around the kitchen and by her chants and the tone of her voice, I can tell she’s quite peeved. Riley’s not around, it’s not hot outside, and there’s a Democrat in the White House. That leaves only one thing or one person she could be irritated at—me.

When I had called a few days ago to ask if she wouldn’t mind staying with Sarah and Isabella next weekend because I had an invitation to go to New York from a
rock star
she hardly had two words to say. Personally, I thought she’d be thrilled, as much as she loves Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong. “Hmm,” she finally said, and sat there on the other end of the phone, like she was holding back what was really on her mind. After I said, “Isn’t this wonderful?” she only said, “All right,” with a tinge of irritation. Although she held her tongue on the phone, I knew good and well the discussion was far from over.

I had only been home a little while when she gave me that “Kissie glare.” It’s a look I’ve seen many times before, and one that at my age I thought I’d outgrown. She stared at me an extra long moment, puckered her lips and finally said, “How old is this man you’re runnin’ off to see?”

“I don’t know.” That’s the response Kissie has always taught me to say when you don’t want to commit yourself to something.

“Huh,” she says, and lowers herself slowly onto a chair at the breakfast room table, staring into my eyes. It could only mean one thing—Leelee lecture time.

When my doorbell rings twice consecutively, it only makes matters worse. Besides sending Roberta into a barking frenzy, it sets Kissie’s nerves on fire. Because she’s absolutely positive who’s ringing it, she shakes her head and says,
“unh-unh.”

I mosey on over to the foyer and peep through the peephole. Sure enough, there’s Riley with a large box in his hand. He has to hold it over to one side so he can see in front of him. I fling open the door. “What’s this, Riley?” I say, as he hands it to me.

“I happened to be in the yard today when the FedEx man dropped it off. I didn’t want it to get stolen so I bwought it over to my house. It’s to you from someone in New York City.”

Peering at the top, I scan the label to see whom it’s from before shaking it. I don’t recognize the sender.

“It’s a little heavy,” he says, reaching out to touch it again. “Maybe it’s a new pair of boots. Or possibly a food basket.”

I shake the box a time or two.

“I twied bwinging it over when I saw Kissie dwive up with the girls but she didn’t answer the door.”