Seven Year Switch (2010) (11 page)

ANASTASIA PLOPPED SOME OF THE CASSEROLE I'D MADE
with community center leftovers onto her plate and handed me the serving spoon. The phone rang. I sighed and reached for my headphone. I'd probably jinxed myself by taking it off, hoping to get through dinner in peace.

“Great Girlfriend Getaways,” I said. “Feisty—”

“Sorry to interrupt you, ma'am, but I was hoping I could interest you in a picnic backpack for two.”

I giggled like a teenager.

Anastasia looked up.

“Does it have a name, sir?” I asked.

“It does, ma'am.”

I motioned for Anastasia to start eating. “Is that something you can share with me?”

“Yes, it's called The Datenic.”

“Very catchy. You know, I might actually have a need for something like that in my life.”

Anastasia was watching me, her empty fork hovering in the air. I pushed myself away from the kitchen table.

“Why, thank you, ma'am. I was hoping you might feel that way.”

I stepped over Cynthia's sink on my way to the living room. “Hey,” I whispered. “I'm so glad you called, but we're eating dinner, and I'm also right in the middle of my phone shift.”

“Okay, I'll let you go then. Dinner and a movie this weekend? Ex-husband babysits?”

I closed my eyes. “I'm just not ready to leave her alone with him yet.”

“No pressure. What about another bike ride next week?”

I looked over my shoulder to make sure Anastasia hadn't followed me. “Sure,” I whispered. “Can we start where we left off?” I actually sounded flirty. I was so proud of myself.

“You bet,” he said. “And if you forget where that was, I'll remind you.”

My feet barely touched the ground on my way back to the kitchen. “Hey, sweetie,” I said. I sat down at the table and reached for the casserole.

“Was that my dad?” Anastasia said.

I laughed. It sounded forced, almost like a croak. “No. No. It was just a friend.”

Anastasia's hazel eyes looked exactly like Seth's. “What friend? And what do you need in your life?”

I'd had this half-baked fantasy that I was going to tell her about Billy to night. One little mention, maybe something about the cool bikes his company made or the fact that I was helping him get ready for a trip to Japan. Just enough to establish his existence, and then I could slowly and gradually build from there.

“An old friend I haven't talked to in forever,” I said. “We were just joking around. I can't even remember what she said.”

My cell phone rang. “Great Girlfriend Getaways,” I said into the headphone. “Feisty and fabulous man-free escapes both close to home and all over the world. When was the last time you got together with
your
girlfriends?”

“Hello,” a woman's voice said. “We've got your spring and summer catalog, but my friends and I can't decide which trip to
take. None of us ever gets to go anywhere, and it's not like we have money to burn, so this is a big deal for us.”

I nodded. “I hear you,” I said encouragingly. Anastasia adjusted her pink headband without taking her eyes off me.

“So, I mean, if you could only take one trip, and you have no idea if you'll ever be able to do something like this again, which one would you pick? The Goddess Golightly Tour of Sedona? Mining the Mystical in Celtic Culture? I forget, is that one Ireland or Boston?”

“Ireland,” I said. “But we've also got our Finessing the Freedom Trail with your Female Friends trip to Boston if you're looking for something closer to home.”

Anastasia shook her head. She picked up her plate and stood up.

I stamped my foot.

She ignored me. She stepped over the kitchen sink on her way to the living room.

“And don't forget Shop Till You Drop in Europe,” I said, “where you and your girlfriends will get to stay in hotels adjacent to all the best shopping districts of France and Italy. And there's also a side trip to the outlet stores in Mendrisio, Switzerland.”

The woman sighed. “It's just so hard to decide. I mean, what if you choose one, and then you find out that another might have been even better?”

I covered the mouthpiece while I swallowed. “Here's the thing,” I said. “Any one of them could be the trip of a lifetime.”

The woman let out a puff of air. “That's helpful.”

I closed my eyes and visualized biking with Billy, maybe through the Chianti countryside south of Florence, stopping along the way to tour a winery or have lunch in a small
ristorante
. Then I pictured us biking through the winding back
roads of Ireland's rural west coast, watching sheep grazing near stone cottages, taking a break to hang out at a local pub. I mean, as long as I was with Billy, it was six of one and half a dozen of the other as to which trip would be better.

I opened my eyes. “What I'm trying to say is, when it comes right down to it, it's not where you go, or what you do, that matters so much as who you do it with. So, as long as you've picked the right friends, any of our trips could work for you.”

“Easy for you to say,” the woman said. “You probably get to go on all of them for free. Never mind, we'll figure it out ourselves.”

 

“
SPELLING TIME
,” I said to Anastasia as soon as we'd cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, and she'd finished her other homework. “Do you want to do it with me or on the phone with your dad?”

Anastasia looked at me like I had three heads. “Dad,” she said. “Don't you have to use the phone for work though?”

“If I miss anybody, I can always call back. Just don't take too long.” I unplugged my headphone and handed my cell to her. “Oh, and tell your dad it's okay for him to come over on Sunday. And that Thai food is fine.”

A minute later Anastasia was sitting at the kitchen table with her pink and purple pen and a sheet of paper in front of her, laughing on the phone with Seth. “Mom,” she yelled. “Dad wants to know what kind of Thai food you want.”

“What ever,” I said from the living room. It was right next to the kitchen, and the house was so small it's not like I needed to yell to be heard.

I was stretched out on the couch with my feet up on the old trunk. I was imagining biking through the western countryside
in Japan with Billy, after we'd closed the deal for new Akira bicycle kiosks in Tokyo. We were triumphant. We were a team. We were taking a little victory tour before we headed home together.

“She likes shrimp pad thai, but vegetarian is fine if it's too expensive,” I heard Anastasia say from the other room. “And she likes to get flowers, too. Especially daisies. You can pick them from the field next to my school. I can show you if you want.”

I sat up straight and put my feet on the floor. Surely Anastasia couldn't possibly think that flower exchanges of any kind were in Seth's and my future.

Anastasia and Seth moved on to her spelling words, and I stretched out on the couch again. Maybe instead of biking around western Japan, Billy and I would stay in Tokyo. I'd try to get us a deal on a romantic corner room with a view of Mount Fuji.

“
Believe
,” Anastasia said from the kitchen. “I believe you can live happily ever after.
Believe
.”

I couldn't hear Seth's sentence, but what ever it was made Anastasia giggle.

“
Again
,” Anastasia said. “Mom and I are glad you're coming over for dinner on Sunday again.
Again
.”

Okay, so maybe she had a little bit of a fantasy going that Seth and I might get back together. Any kid in her situation probably would. It would just take some time for everything to sort itself out.

“
Brought
,” Anastasia said. “If you brought me a kitten and my own phone, I would be the happiest girl in the whole wide world.
Brought
.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Anastasia was a typical ten-year-old girl. She was fine.

Just to be sure, I waited until I knew she was sound asleep. Then, addict that I was, I snuck into her room to find her diary.

 

D
ad brings a boukay of daisies for my mom

 

A
nd then he moves back

 

I
nto our house

 

S
o we have to buy a bigger

 

Y
ellow house with sunny windowsils for my new pet kitten

“
HEY, KIDDO
,”
JONI SAID. SHE WAS SITTING AT HER DESK
with a pile of paperwork in front of her. I leaned over and gave her a hug, then rolled a chair up beside her.

“So, what do you need?” I asked.

Joni ran both hands through her crisp gray hair. “A pomegranate martini?”

“Now there's a thought,” I said.

Joni shoved the papers aside and pulled up a file on the computer. “Can you send out an e-blast to our list about Shop Till You Drop in Europe and also make it our Web feature? I'd really like to fill that one.”

“Done,” I said. I reached for a piece of computer paper and started making notes. “Then you want me to take Costa Rica off the home page?”

“Yes, bury it. And I think we're going to have to break down and place an ad for another group leader. We're way over our promised ratio.”

I made another note. “Got it.”

Joni stoood up and grabbed two bottles of water from the tiny office refrigerator.

“Thanks,” I said. I opened mine and took a big sip. “So, any news on the selling front?”

“Ha,” Joni said. She put her Skechers-clad feet up on the desk and leaned back in her chair like she was twenty. “Women are still traveling, so we're making money, but in this economy,
everybody's going to assume that if I'm selling, something must be wrong with the company. It's going to take the right buyer.”

I didn't know I was going to say it until it came out of my mouth. “What about Sanders Family Bicycles? You know, the company that has all the bike kiosks?”

Joni swung her feet off the desk. “Now there's an interesting thought. What made you think of them?”

I could feel a blush sneaking up on me, so I flipped my hair out from behind my ears. “I've been, um, doing some consulting work for one of the owners. He's exploring the possibility of bicycle kiosks in Japan, and it just seems like they're a company that's, I don't know, open.”

Joni grinned. “Looks to me like Japan is not the only possibility that's being explored.”

I laughed noncommittally. A part of me wanted to tell Joni about Billy, but a bigger part of me was afraid it wouldn't hold up to the light of conversation. I wanted to envelop the whole idea of us in bubble wrap to keep it safe while it had a chance to grow.

“Moving on,” I said. I took another sip of water.

Joni was still smiling. “It's a great company, but what would they want with GGG?”

“Well,” I said. “I hear they're trying to balance some cuts they've made by investing in future growth. So, why not expand with a travel piece? They could keep GGG essentially the same, with the addition of bike tours, and also use its resources to add a new tour niche for families. Maybe pitch a special that if you take a bike trip with your entire family, you'll get a coupon for a discounted women-only trip to recover from the experience.”

“Hmm,” Joni said. “It's worth a shot—I'll reach out to them.”

I felt a flash of disappointment. I mean, after all, it was my idea, so shouldn't I do the reaching out? But, then again, maybe Billy and I should keep business out of things for the time
being. We had a long road ahead of us, and we could take our time weaving our lives together into a glorious mixture of travel and fun.

Soon enough, business and plea sure lines would blur. Our blended families would get along beautifully, too, and when people asked how we handled spending every holiday traveling together to exotic locations all over the world, I'd try not to look smug.

“Well,” I'd say. “We both simply made the decision to divorce each other, but not our families. We're actually a lot like siphonophores. You know, animals made up of a colony of organisms that work together? We're separate, but we all still clump together.”

I could almost picture it, although in my vision Billy's ex-wife didn't have a face, and Seth only showed up for dinner by himself on Sundays while Billy was conveniently out mowing the lawn or something.

Joni cleared her throat and brought me back to reality. “How's Anastasia doing with her dad?” she asked.

Anastasia's last diary entry appeared before my eyes in bright purple. I shook my head to dislodge it.

“Fine,” I said. “Well, except for the fact that she's fantasizing about Seth and me getting back together.”

“I'd say that's probably pretty normal.”

I nodded. “That's what I was hoping.”

Joni leaned forward in her chair. “But, then again…”

“What?” I said.

Joni's watery blue eyes looked right through me. “Well, there's always the chance that Anastasia's right, and you will get back together. Stranger things have happened.”

I jumped to my feet. “Bite your tongue,” I said.

Joni stood up, too. She put her hands on my shoulders. “Lovey, it's just that you've got to sort out the mess before you
take the exit door. Otherwise you'll only drag it with you, and it'll clutter things up at your next stop along the road.”

“Of course,” I said. “I mean, I know that.”

Joni gave me a kiss on my forehead.

I gave her a quick hug.

I screwed the cap back on my empty water bottle and threw it in the recycle bin. “Okay, that's it,” I said. “I'm out of here. My big mean boss just gave me a ton of work to do.”

 

ON MY WAY HOME,
I made quick stops at the library and the grocery store. I pulled into my driveway minutes before Anastasia's bus was due to arrive.

My new railings were fully installed. “What?” I said out loud.

I put my car into park and climbed out. The white paint could use some touching up in a few places, but other than that, they looked amazing.

Not only did I have crisp white wooden railings leading up to my front door, but my whole house suddenly looked adorable. It actually looked like a house I would have bought even if I wasn't looking for the cheapest one I could find.

I couldn't stop looking at it. This was a house that would hold a perfect little family: perfect mother, perfect father, 2.5 perfect little children. They'd spend Saturdays raking the yard and power washing the siding, and when they were finished with the weekend chores, they'd go out for pizza and a movie on Saturday night.

Or they'd leave the well-adjusted, never-been-traumatized perfect little children with a babysitter who was on the honor roll at school, and fluent in at least two languages. Instead of plugging them into the TV so she could sneak her boyfriend
into the house, the babysitter would play games with them all evening. Old-fashioned board games like Chutes and Ladders, Scrabble, Monopoly.

I unloaded everything from my car, happy for a chance to check out the railings again with each trip past. I knew Seth was responsible, but I was kind of half imagining that Billy had been the one to put them up. He would have noticed them propped up against my house when he picked me up for our bike ride, and then somehow managed to sneak over while I was out to put them up to surprise me.

Life with Billy would be like that: both of us solidly and predictably there for each other, but also always on the lookout for ways to surprise and delight.

I put the groceries away, then went back out to sit on my front steps and admire the railings some more.

“Hey, girlfriend,” Cynthia yelled from about three feet away.

I jumped. “Geez,” I said. “I didn't even see you.”

“I know. I could have knocked you over with a fender.”

“I bet,” I said. I nodded in the direction of the railings. “So, how do you think they look?”

Cynthia gave me a thumbs-up with the hand not corralling her bangs.

The bus rolled down the street and stopped in front of my house. “Hey,” Cynthia said. “You don't want to go away for a spa weekend, do you? I mean, I'm all for family bondage and everything, but the kids are wearing me out.”

“Sure,” I said. “Any time you have a client looking to get rid of a gift certificate, let me know.”

The bus driver opened the door, and I waited for a glimpse of Anastasia. Cynthia's youngest, Parker, stepped off first. He ran over and threw his backpack at Cynthia, then took off in the direction of their house.

“Parker,” she yelled. “Get back here right now!”

Parker kept running.

Cynthia bent down and picked up the backpack. “Don't be surprised if you find yourself looking for another backpack to throw, young man,” she yelled.

She turned to me. “I almost picked you up some vertigo blinds my client was getting rid of this morning, but I think we should only go for high-end hand-me-downs.”

“Vertical,” I said. I mean, how could Cynthia build her business if no one corrected her when she misspoke?

“Vertigo,” Cynthia said, “is what they give me. And, just for future reverence, if you absolutely have to wear that shirt with those pants, stay home.”