Newton Neighbors (New England Trilogy) (22 page)

“A party? Are you mad? You know there’s a strict no booze rule, not to mention the signing-in of every guest. I’m pretty sure they have a no parties policy here, too.”

Ely clapped her hands together. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Did I tell you I did a semester of law in Miami?”

“Yes.”

“Well, anyway, as far as I know there ain’t no rules sayin’ this is a no party zone. So I say, lawfully, we are within our rights.”

Jessie flopped down onto her bed. “Yeah? Well, Ely, I’ve never studied law, but even I know ignorance is no defense.”
 

“Ah, that’s in England. Things are different over here, J. If I’ve told you once, I’ve said a million times—we only got one life.”

Jessie joined in for the second part of her roomie’s favorite slogan, and together they chanted, “You gotta live it.” She covered her face with her hands. “I was hoping to spend the night with Dan.”

“Invite him.”

“I don’t even know if he’s around yet. He might be working.”

Ely sat up on her bed. “He’s very vague about when he’s available and when he’s not, ain’t he?”

Jessie knew what Ely was talking about. Her roomie had made no secret of the fact she was suspicious about Dan. Ely was trying to protect her. It was endearing. Sometimes.

She pulled one of her pillows from under her head and threw it across the room at Ely. “Your new word for today is
shift work
, Ely. He doesn’t know from one end of the week to the other what shifts he’ll be on. It’s no big deal.”

Ely sat forward to avoid the incoming pillow, and that was when she saw the laminated card fly out of the pillowcase and hit the floor. She was on her feet and bending over it in a second. “What’s this?” she said, sounding playful as she picked it up.

Jessie’s eyes snapped open when she heard her roommate’s tone. “What did you find?” She sat up.

“Well, well, well. Look at what we have here.” Ely’s tone was teasing.
 

Jessie came straight over. She knew she had nothing to hide but still felt defensive for some reason.
 

“What is it?”

“It’s Dan ‘Romeo’ Walker’s driver’s license.”

Jessie tried to grab it out of her hand, so Ely jerked it back. “Ah, ah. Back to my legal lessons—possession in nine-tenths of the law.”

“Let me see it.” Jessie stomped her foot and scowled.

But Ely was reading the fine print. “Well, I never thought he was that old, and now I even know where he lives.” She tapped the license against her chin. “Should we send Josh and the boys around to check his place out?”

Jessie made another lunge for the card, and Ely let her have it. She took it back to the security of her bed to study it. “You know, you’re right. He’s thirty. I didn’t think he was that old.”

“What? You’re sleeping with the guy and you haven’t even asked him his age? J, I’d assumed you’d asked him if he’s married or divorced and if he has any transmittable diseases at this point.” She looked at Jessie for a reply but didn’t get one.

“J?” Ely tried again, using three syllables on the letter.

This time Jessie looked up. “No, I haven’t asked any of those questions. We use condoms, so I’m sure we’re safe. Regarding his personal life—well, we haven’t got around to that yet.”

Ely groaned and threw herself back down on her bed. “J, J, J . . . how can you be so smart and so dumb at the same time? You gotta ask those questions. For all you know, he might have a wife and three kids across town. He is thirty, you know.”

Jessie stood up and began pacing the floor, trying to defend herself. “No, Ely. You don’t understand. We British, we’re a lot more discreet. We’re a very private bunch and we don’t probe.”

Ely let out a guffaw. “Seems to me Dan’s done plenty of probing, judging by your smiles. I thought you two were getting real close, real fast. Isn’t all this stuff just pillow talk?”

Jessie kept pacing but didn’t feel like talking.

“Darlin’,” Ely said, trying again, “you did tell me this man is just some light entertainment for you while you’re on this side of the pond and nothing more. I’m wondering if you still feel that way.”

“What are you getting at?”
 

Ely shook her head. She looked like she didn’t want to go on, but Jessie was starting to feel paranoid.
 

“Ely, I’m serious. What are you saying?”

The other girl shrugged, still silent.

“You think I’m falling for him?”

Ely looked at Jessie, her face the picture of sincerity and her eyes worried. She sat up on her bed. “I gotta say, J, you’re walkin’ around here like a broodmare. Your eyes have gone all glassy. I don’t see you eating much, and Lord knows you have all but stopped doing my homework for me.” She was trying to make a joke out of it, but Jessie didn’t laugh.

“All I’m saying is if I was your mom, I’d be concerned. I can smell trouble around that boy, and you yourself told me you’re staying in the States for just one year. Don’t let that guy break your heart, girl.”

Jessie started to feel angry. Dan was the first bit of fun she’d had in years. She was still getting her homework done and she managed to keep the babysitting thing going, too. “Well, you’re not my mother, so you don’t need to be concerned.” Her tone was harsh. “And I’m sorry I don’t have time to do your homework anymore. Here’s a novel idea—do it yourself!”

Ely waved her hands in the air. “I don’t care about the damn work, Jessie. But like it or not, I do care about you.”

This softened Jessie a bit. She looked at her roomie and gave a weak smile. “Thanks. You know what, ignore me. I’m just tired.”

Ely nodded as if that was an end to it. “Me, too. Let’s get to sleep, because tomorrow’s gonna be a big night,” she said, rubbing her hands together.

Jessie moaned. “For real?”

“Darn sure. Somebody has to see to it that these are the best days of our life.” Ely winked at Jessie. “I know you got sittin’ in the morning and classes in the afternoon, so why don’t you leave all the preparations to me. It’s what I do best, anyway. Now you know where Dan lives. Why don’t you go take him his license in the evening and invite him to the party. It’s a good reason to check out his place, and you get to meet his folks at the same time.”

Jessie was intrigued. “He shouldn’t really be living at home at his age.” It was the first even vaguely negative thing she had ever said about her new love.

“Maybe he just hasn’t found the right woman yet.” Ely shrugged.
 

Jessie beamed at her. “You think? Maybe?”

“Maybe, baby.”

Michael Grant was ready for bed. Work was hectic at the moment, and he was looking forward to the Thanksgiving break. He rubbed his tired eyes and called the dog. He didn’t much like Fifi. She was all bark and no bite. But the women in his life loved her. Michael liked Rick’s dog. A Labrador was a proper family pet, not a shih tzu. But it had been Cathi’s decision, and like most times, she had gotten what she wanted.

She’d had the good sense to go to bed before the movie started. Wise woman. Stupidly, he had stayed up to watch a film he had seen before, and for what? Michael walked to the back door to let the dog out.
 

The night was mild for the end of November. Naturally there was a chill in the air, but it was a clear sky with no sign of snow, so he wandered out into the backyard to enjoy the mild weather while he still could. Within a few weeks, the yard would be deep in snow.

It was great to just sit and let his mind drift. He had been a creative editor in the firm for fifteen years now, writing the catchiest jingles and wittiest one-liners in the business.
Don’t go without your Flo
was his biggest success. Now Flo Smoothies ranked as the nation’s number one smoothie chain, but what Michael really wanted to do was write a book. It was burning inside him. He knew what he was going to write about. He had his characters, the plot, location—everything was in his head. All he needed was to get it onto paper.
 

That was the catch. There was just no time between the day job and the girls, and of course, Cathi. He liked to take his wife out at least once on the weekend and maybe once during the week, too. Then he had basketball one night a week. Time was in short supply, and up until now, money had been, too. The biggest drain on his finances was the girls’ school fees, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. It was terrific to hear the house was worth more than he thought.
 

Michael looked at the night sky and thought about taking some of the equity out of the house. If he refinanced the place, he could take a year’s sabbatical from work and write. Twelve months would be enough to figure out if he had what it took to make it as a novelist. Then he could pack in the catchphrases and jingles altogether and focus on being a full-time writer. There would be enough money to keep the family in the style to which they were accustomed, and he would have his dream job. He needed to discuss it with Cathi, but any time he brought up writing full-time she laughed at him and changed the subject. Michael realized he needed to sit her down and explain how serious he was. He had to make her hear him.
 

Fifi was running back to him, so Michael hauled his tired body out of the yard chair.

He’d just about given up his dream of writing when the girls had started school and the bills had begun to mount, but when he’d heard how much the house was worth, it had seemed there might just be another option. Michael felt he owed it to himself to try.
 

He and the dog headed back inside. He locked up and set the alarm, but just before he went upstairs, he took a brief detour into the library. Cathi had a set of drawers where she kept her business things. He wanted to see if she had a copy of the newest appraisal for their house. With the exact figures, maybe he could do some financial calculations before he went to sleep.
 

As expected, the top drawer was full of pens, tape, and stamps. The second one had blank paper and envelopes.

He opened the third drawer and found it full of brochures. “Dammit, she isn’t thinking of decorating again—not after the last time,” he mumbled.
 

Michael knew she had ceremonially dumped all her decorating folders when the project was over last time, because she had done it in front of him in an effort to calm him. He remembered it well. They had been in the kitchen, and she had opened the trash bin and laughed.
“Look, Michael. These are all my interior décor files and catalogs. You’re safe. We’re done.”
 

That had been just after he’d written a bunch of checks to cover the last redecorating job—the big one that had redone the entire downstairs but not the second floor. He was certain these brochures were new. One of them had a letter from the supplier.

Before he could think about Cathi’s privacy, Michael was reading the letter.

Dear Mrs. Grant,
it started.

Thank you for your inquiry phone call this morning to Child Style. We offer a full decorating service for children’s bedrooms and playrooms.

Michael felt his panic rising.
 

I understand you’re interested in our nursery package. If you already know the sex of your baby or if you have a color in mind, we’d be happy to have an interior decorator come out to your home and advise you on your options. Our prices are highly competitive, and we have a strong after-sales service.

Michael was still reading, but he had stopped taking in the words. Cathi? The sex of her baby? Jesus, was Cathi pregnant? That couldn’t be right, not again, not after all these years. It would explain why she was acting so weird lately. But they’d agreed they were done.
 

When had they last had sex? God, was there any chance in hell Cathi was expecting? He stood up but had to sit back down again. Pregnant? No, there had to be some mistake, but why not? That was how Katie and Stacy had come into their lives.
 

Was it really so bad? He shook his head.
 

It was good. Yeah, it was great, terrific. Of course it was great, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t she told him? Maybe she was embarrassed at getting caught after all these years. Didn’t she use an IUD as protection? Weren’t those things foolproof?