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Authors: Josi S. Kilpack

Tags: #Fiction

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“She’s totally going to poison your iced tea,” he said as he began ringing up the books. “And then I’ll have to testify about this whole exchange, your family will sue Barnes and Noble after all, and, like you said, our premiums will go through the roof. Just stay home.” He never once cracked a smile.

I laughed again and glanced at the doors before leaning over the counter conspiratorially. “I’m a wild woman. There’s no telling what I might do.”

Chapter 3

Saturday—my favorite day of the week.

I slept in until almost nine, lingered over coffee, and read half a dozen chapters in
The Hunger Games.
As soon as Stormy saw it, she wanted it, but I was reading it first. In the afternoon, I helped Paul with some yard work and then took Stormy shopping for jeans; she
had
to have some colored skinny jeans, which I found disturbingly similar to the pants I wore back in high school. Jared had agreed to pay for half of the shopping spree after saying he’d love to have Stormy for Halloween. Stormy wasn’t as thrilled; she was sure she’d end up babysitting Jared’s girlfriend’s two little kids, but she was a pretty good sport once she knew she could still go to a friend’s Halloween party that Saturday night.

“Are you going to dress up?” I asked as we pulled onto the Afton Parkway on our way to the mall.

“For the party? Yeah.”

“What are you going to dress up as?”

“Tress and I are going to be Playboy Bunnies.”

I laughed at the obvious joke. When Stormy didn’t laugh with me, I glanced at her while I slowed down for a light, and I felt my face fall. “That
is
a joke, right?”

“I’m seventeen, Mom,” Stormy said, but she wriggled in her seat uncomfortably.

It was all downhill from there. By the time Stormy had found her final pair of jeans—teal skinny jeans that I thought looked ridiculous—we weren’t even speaking. I’d forbidden her from wearing the costume of her choice and had even threatened to cancel my weekend with Paul if I had to in order to make sure she didn’t go advertising herself as a tramp.
A Playboy Bunny?
I thought over and over again on the drive home. She couldn’t be serious—could she? Didn’t she realize what that would say to every other kid at the party? As a girl who, at Stormy’s age, had been six months pregnant, I knew
exactly
what it said, and there was no way on this green earth that my daughter was going to send out those kind of signals. I’d always thought I’d done a good job of teaching my daughters the self-respecting nature of modesty, but apparently I’d missed something.

The car hadn’t even come to a complete stop in the garage before Stormy opened her door and stomped up the stairs. I took my time gathering my purse, racking my brain for the right way to handle this. Why was I always the bad guy? So often, parenthood felt like a losing battle I could never win.

While I was stalling, I saw the book club flier on the dashboard and picked it up, giving it another look. I hadn’t thought much about it since encountering Ruby at the bookstore on Wednesday, but Paul was planning to catch the Lakers game, and Stormy was going to be a
ton
of fun tonight. Maybe going to a book club with a bunch of strangers, one of whom I’d already called a serial killer, was just what I needed to salvage my weekend.

I pushed open the door and was almost knocked over by a completely unexpected tackle-hug from the daughter who minutes earlier hadn’t been speaking to me.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, squeezing the breath out of me. I had to put out an arm to brace myself against the wall so that I didn’t lose my balance. “I’ll dress up as anything you want me to,” she said. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I managed to push her back a little bit. “Thank me for what?” I asked.

“The car!” she squeaked, her face completely lit up.

“The car?” I repeated, beyond confused by this whole situation. Had I blacked out or something?

Stormy dug her cell phone out of her pocket. “Tress is going to freak!” She pushed a few buttons and headed toward the kitchen counter. “Tress—guess what? I’m getting a car!”

I walked to the counter and put my purse down before looking at the newspaper spread out on the island. It was open to the used car section and sitting on top was a notebook with some notes written on it in Paul’s handwriting. The cars listed were things like a Kia Spectra, a Ford Fresia, and a Jetta. Girl cars.

“Paul?” I called, heading toward our bedroom where his computer was set up. I felt a little thrill run through me at the idea that he was buying Stormy a car. Part of me, I admit, was bothered that I couldn’t do it, and yet I was touched that he would step in. He and Stormy got along really well, but something like this would go a long way toward making their relationship even better, and it was proof that we really were meshing into a family.

“Huh?” he said when I entered, though he didn’t look up from his computer.

I came up behind him and put my arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck. “You are my hero,” I said before kissing him again.

Paul laughed his teenage-girl laugh and turned his chair, allowing me to slide onto his lap. “Wow, and all I was doing was checking the NBA stats.”

I smiled and nuzzled his neck again; he was a sucker for that kind of thing. “I mean about the car. She’s out of her head excited, and you saved me from a really miserable day in parenthood-land.”

Paul was quiet for a minute. “I’m confused,” he finally said.

I pulled back. “If you wanted it to be a surprise, you shouldn’t have left your notes on the counter,” I said, tapping him playfully on the nose.

“Oh,” Paul said, realization dawning. “You mean the car for Mason.”

I froze at the mention of
his
daughter. “Mason?”

Paul nodded. “I know it’s a little premature,” he said, laughing nervously though his eyes danced. “But she turns sixteen in a couple of months, and I thought it would make a good birthday-slash-Christmas present. Plus, maybe she could come up more often if she had her own wheels. If I get it now, I can have it registered and outfitted in time for the holiday without having to rush anything, ya know?”

I closed my eyes and told myself not to get angry. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But even if he wasn’t at fault, the fact remained that what I’d thought was a
bad
motherhood day had just taken a ridiculously horrible turn.

Chapter 4

The Playboy Bunny argument was nothing compared to the “Paul’s daughter gets a car and she’s not even sixteen yet!” tirade that filled my home Saturday afternoon. Paul decided to watch the game at his brother Charlie’s house in Fountain Green as soon as he realized what had happened, leaving me to deal with my daughter’s temper tantrum alone. I’d never been all that good at tantrums, and reason made way for a tantrum of my own before Stormy slammed the door to her room, rattling Paul’s framed D’Ottavio prints that lined the hallway.

I let out a breath and tried chanting
eight more months, eight more months, eight more months,
but it didn’t ease the rock in my stomach.

Half an hour later Jared called me to discuss the situation. Thank you, Stormy. He offered to pay the insurance if I bought her a car; I told him I couldn’t afford one. He told me to talk to Paul. Without getting into the details of my financial relationship with my husband, I said that wasn’t an option, which invited a pointed “I see.” My blood boiled.

After that
lovely
discussion, I tried to read some more, but I couldn’t get into the story. I looked at the clock—it was almost six—and I made up my mind, once and for all, to go to that book club. I had just enough time to make a quick dinner of pasta and pesto sauce, prepare a plate for Stormy, eat my own plateful, and head out. Before I left, I wrote a quick note to Stormy, slid it into
The
Hunger Games,
and pushed the whole book under the door of her room, though it was a tight fit. Letting her read the book before I finished wasn’t much in the way of peace offerings, but I was still pretty frustrated, and it was the best I could do.

I ended up arriving at the book group fifteen minutes early, but that was okay. It gave me a chance to chat with Ruby, and laugh about how we’d met. She was eccentric, that was for sure, but she had a beautiful home, and while we waited for the others to arrive, she told me all about her late husband and the travels they’d taken. I sensed she was lonely and was surprised to realize that I could relate. Of course I had Paul and my girls and some friends at work, but I couldn’t really say there were any women in my life—not even my mom or sisters—with whom I felt truly comfortable. I hadn’t had many close relationships with other women as an adult since my life had always been out of the norm. While I was learning to be a mom, the girls my age were still in high school. My career was in full swing by the time most women my age were graduating from college. Ruby was almost twenty years older than I was, but I wondered if she was the kind of woman I could really become friends with. More than ever, I felt like I had room in my life to really nurture that kind of relationship.

The next member of the group, Athena, arrived five minutes before it started. I guessed she was in her thirties and tried not to envy her athletic body. I’d never had time for the kind of commitment it took to have a physique like that. Then again, maybe she was naturally thin, the same way she was naturally beautiful. She had the most striking eyes, but I worried she’d retreat if I told her so; I had the distinct impression she didn’t want to be put on the spot, even in a positive way. The doorbell rang, and Ruby went to answer it, leaving Athena and me alone in Ruby’s living room.

“Do you live here in Newport?” I asked when Athena didn’t seem willing to start a conversation.

“Yes,” she said simply.

Before I had a chance to ask anything else, Ruby was back with another woman.

“Olivia,” Ruby said. “Meet Daisy and Athena.”

The new woman smiled and handed a plate of cookies to Ruby.

“Call me Livvy,” she insisted, blowing her overgrown bangs out of her face. Livvy nervously attempted to smooth her hair, making me wonder if she wasn’t exactly comfortable with the hairstyle she’d chosen. “I know you didn’t want us to bring anything, but this was a new recipe I just had to try. White chocolate chip cookies.”

Ruby thanked her as the door chimed again. “Oh, I’m glad everyone is so punctual,” she said, excusing herself again.

Livvy turned to us, looking flustered. She was probably close to my age—younger maybe, but close.

“It’s wonderful to meet both of you. I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” Livvy said, straightening her wrinkled top. I’d learned the hard way that you really shouldn’t wear linen unless you could take care of it.

I didn’t have time for a polite comment before Ruby reappeared with a young woman trailing behind her. A very young woman. How old was this girl? Nineteen?

“And this is Paige. We have one more member, but she must be running late.” Ruby looked at her watch and frowned.

We all said or nodded hello to Paige, who gave a small smile and a smaller wave in greeting, and my heart went out to her. She seemed a little overwhelmed. She’d no sooner sat down when the doorbell rang yet again. Ruby smiled and bustled out of the room, returning a few seconds later with a tall woman dressed in khaki slacks and a green, collared shirt with a logo from Walgreens stitched in the corner. I could tell right away something was different with Ruby’s relationship to this member; she stood closer to the girl and looked more at ease.

“This is my niece, Shannon,” Ruby said with a smile. “She needs to make room for a book in her life now and again, so I’m thrilled she could come.”

Shannon smiled back, but I had the distinct impression that she was here for Ruby more than for the book group. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and I guessed she was in her late thirties. She looked tired, and I wondered what she did at Walgreens. Was she a cashier? Obviously she’d just gotten off work.

“Everyone have a seat, and we’ll make the round of introductions,” Ruby said, gesturing Shannon toward the white couches I’d already become familiar with. Shannon perched on the edge next to Paige, but didn’t sit back all the way.

Once seated, Ruby wasted no time getting started. “As you all know, I’m Ruby Crenshaw. I just turned sixty-two last month. I’ve lived in this gorgeous home by myself since the passing of my husband. It’s been nearly two years, but sometimes it seems as if Phil has just left for work.” She paused for a breath. “I have one son who lives in Illinois with his wife. My brother and his wife—Shannon’s parents—recently moved to Phoenix, though I can’t imagine why they would want to live in the middle of the desert.” She shook her head as evidence of her confusion, then smiled as she looked at her niece. “Shannon lives in Laguna Hills; it’s wonderful to have her so close. No grandkids of my own just yet.”

I’d been right about her being lonely.

“I’ve always read,” Ruby continued, “especially when my husband traveled.” She looked down at her hands and fiddled with the wedding ring she still wore, which made my heart ache a little. Paul and I had only been married for three years, but I couldn’t imagine life without him. “Since I was widowed, I haven’t socialized like I used to with our friends. They’re always there with an open invitation, but I find it harder to enjoy myself around them since I’m always the third or fifth or seventh wheel. So I spend a lot of time cooking for myself, and reading, of course.” She looked up and put on a bright smile. “That’s enough about me. Let’s go around the circle.”

She waved toward me, indicating I was first, so I gave a quick synopsis of my family and my job, not letting my thoughts dwell on the tension waiting for me at home. “And I’m looking forward to getting to know more people now that my kids are older and I have my own life again.” I laughed, but noticed that the other women just smiled politely.

Athena and Paige were too young to know what it felt like to be at this stage of life. Shannon and Livvy might understand the demands of mothering a child who thought she knew everything, but neither of them backed me up. Shannon might still be too young, and Livvy was probably a perfect little housewife, with a perfect little life, whose kids were the center of her universe. By comparison, my comment had just made me look like one of those career-driven women who counted their family low on the list of priorities. I felt self-conscious for having said something so flippant. Maybe this wasn’t going to work out. I pasted a smile on my face anyway and turned to the next person.

Livvy cleared her throat before telling us about her four kids. Four! I couldn’t imagine. As she continued in a hurried voice, I realized that was all she talked about—her kids. Didn’t she have anything in her life outside of them? I was right about the happy homemaker judgment I’d already pronounced.

“My daughter is babysitting for me tonight, which means the kids will likely be having frozen pizza for dinner, but at least they’ve got homemade cookies,” she said.

I could read through that, though. Livvy felt guilty for being here—guilty for doing something that, compared to the rest of her life, seemed frivolous. I could relate, but it also annoyed me.

“I haven’t read a novel in a long time, so I’m hoping to get a kick start with the group,” she finished.

Ruby leaned over and patted Livvy’s hand.

Then it was Paige’s turn. She wasn’t nineteen, but she was still in her mid-twenties. “I’m sort of starting over right now,” she said, shifting awkwardly in her seat. “See, I’m newly single. I have two little boys—almost seven and three. I still can’t believe I’m actually divorced. It wasn’t supposed to happen to
me,
you know? I mean, we were married in the temple and everything.”

Temple? Was she Jewish? But she acted as though she’d said something she hadn’t meant to and hurried to explain.

“See, I’m Mormon and marriage is supposed to be forever when the ceremony is in one of our temples. . . . The boys miss their dad like crazy, but he left us for another woman, and . . .” She paused again, and I could see she was embarrassed. In my mind I told her to just take a deep breath, it was okay. “I came tonight because reading is one of my few escapes—or, well, it used to be—and I miss it. I also came in hopes of making some new friends.” She took a nervous bite of her cookie, and I smiled, trying to catch her eye as her cheeks flushed.

I knew she thought she’d said too much, and I wanted to hug her. I’d been there myself, and I reflected for a moment on those first few years after my own divorce. It had been like living in a haze, and I was sure I was suffering from depression on top of just plain old being overwhelmed by it all. I hoped I could have the chance to offer her some encouragement.
It gets easier,
I wanted to say, but worried I would embarrass her even more so I kept it to myself.

Ruby offered sincere regret for Paige’s circumstance but said how glad she was that Paige had made this time for herself. I agreed wholeheartedly. Maybe my own adjustment period wouldn’t have been so hard if I’d had other women to be close to during that time. Instead, I’d stayed pretty isolated and had put all my energy into trying to figure it out on my own.

“I’m a pharmacist,” Shannon said once Paige finished. “I live in Laguna Hills, like Aunt Ruby said, and I have one son. He’s twelve. I’ve been married for fourteen years and, honestly, I can’t remember the last book I read. I think Aunt Ruby’s hoping I’ll develop some hobbies.”

“She works too much,” Ruby said with a knowing nod, but a kind smile. “I’m really glad you’re here, Shannon.”

Shannon shrugged, looking embarrassed, and then turned to Athena expectantly. “So, tell us about you.”

Athena looked even more uncomfortable than she’d been when she first came in, but I found myself curious about her story now that we’d learned about everyone else. I hoped she wouldn’t retreat from the chance to let us get to know her.

“I’m thirty-two and single,” she said.

We all waited for her to continue, but she didn’t seem as though she had anything else to say.

“Oh, come on,” Ruby said. “There’s got to be more to you than that.” She smiled in a motherly way that seemed to do the trick for Athena.

“I own an online magazine called
Newport Travel.
It keeps me pretty busy . . . so much so that my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago.”

It was obvious that hadn’t been what she planned to say.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ruby said. “But you’re a beautiful girl, and I’m sure you won’t be single for long.”

I cringed, especially since Athena looked the tiniest bit stricken by Ruby’s words.

“It’s not exactly what you think,” she said. “I wasn’t ready to move into anything deeper and . . . Karl was . . . so he ended it.” I thought for sure she’d stop there but was surprised when she kept going. “He thinks I’m a workaholic.” She took a deep breath, and Livvy nodded at her encouragingly. “I am. I know it. But I want to do better. So here I am.”

Ruby clapped her hands together. “We’ll straighten you out.”

Everyone laughed.

“Well, now that we know one another, let’s eat,” Ruby said with a big smile while Athena recovered from what looked like shock at what she’d said. “Then we’ll talk books.”

The rest of the evening went smoothly. I could tell we were all a little hesitant about being too comfortable with one another, but it wasn’t
uncomfortable,
and by the time we left, I was glad I’d come.

The closer I got to home, the more the reality of what was waiting for me there began to descend. I wished I had somewhere else to go, but that wasn’t the case. I was the mom; I was in charge, which meant everyone’s problems became my problems.

Eight more months.

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