So Much for My Happy Ending (3 page)

Caleb tugged at my sleeve and we crossed to the garage. “So when's the big event?” he asked.

“Not sure yet. It's going to be a long engagement, so you'll have plenty of time to figure out what makeup you'll need for me and the bridesmaids.”

Caleb shook his head as he held open the door of his Toyota. “Honey, I expect to
be
a bridesmaid.”

“I am not wearing the same dress as you,” Allie said, climbing into the backseat. “Our coloring is completely different. Why the long engagement anyway? If you want to make a life together why not just start ASAP? Life's short.”

“We've only been dating three months. It's going to be a long engagement.”

Caleb gave me an almost imperceptible nod of approval before switching his focus from the radio, which was now set to an '80s modern-rock station, to his hair, which he tidied with the help of the rearview. “I can't believe you're marrying a man I barely know,” Caleb grumbled. “I've only hung out with the two of you three times.”

“I've only hung out with them twice and you don't see me giving her a hard time about it,” Allie said. “April's a great judge of character. If she says Tad's the one then he's the one.”

“Yes, yes, but
why?
” Caleb asked. “What makes Tad a Prince Charming anyway?” he asked, pushing the car into gear. “Is it that he's named after everybody's favorite soap opera character?”

“Tad Martin's not my favorite,” I said. “I think Todd Manning is these days.”

“Todd Manning? He just sold his own baby on the black market.”

“Yeah, that's been kind of a problem for me, but he's just so tortured and lost. It's kind of endearing.”

“Okay, you two are scaring me now.” Allie pulled herself forward so that her face was between Caleb's and my seats. “Are you saying that Tad has some cute sociopathic tendencies that turn you on?”

“No, no, Tad is very sane. He would never sell anyone's baby. He's actually very…um…righteous.”

Caleb winced. “Okay, you say righteous and I think Pat Buchanan.”

“I mean righteous in a good way. He has a very clear ethical and moral code. When he sees or hears of someone doing something that is inherently wrong, he speaks up. There aren't many people who do that nowadays.”

Caleb gave me a sideways glance. “Give me a for-instance.”

“We were sitting at one of the outdoor tables at the Neighborhood Café when a very attractive Asian woman walked by.” I focused on the dusty film clinging to the window. “There were these two redneck tourists sitting near us and one of them called out, “Hey, I never had Chinese before, how about a free taster?”

Caleb maneuvered us around a cable car. “You have to cut some of these tourists a little extra slack,” he said. “The pickup lines that work on their livestock don't always go over too well with the Homo sapien chicks.”

Allie and I cracked up and I eased back into the leather seats. “Anyway, Tad stood up for her. He went right over to their table and chewed them out. Told them their behavior was repulsive and pathetic and that he was leaving so he wouldn't have to share air space with them.”

Allie slapped her hand against the upholstery. “This guy fucking rocks. Tell more.”

“Tad took my hand and started to lead me out of there, but one of the guys followed us and challenged Tad to a fight. The jerk was, like, four inches shorter than Tad and looked as if he lived off deep-fried cheese sticks, so it wouldn't have been much of a contest, but Tad took the high road. He just said, ‘Look, I don't want to fight you, but you've got to know that you can't treat people like that. Not women, not Chinese—no one.' By now there's a crowd around us and the manager had to come out and break it up. The two guys were asked to leave and everyone cheered Tad. It was awesome.”

“Shit…” Allie collapsed back into her seat with the satisfaction of someone who had just watched a good sex scene. “I think
I
want to marry him.”

“Well, if he ever discovers a long-lost twin, I'll send him your way.”

“Okay, you really need to cut back on the daytime drama.” Allie leaned forward again. “But I do think it would be fun to have a wedding. Most men are pretty much the same, when you get down to the nitty-gritty. Maybe I'll just pick one and throw him into a tux.” Caleb double-parked across from Allie's Russian Hill apartment, and she pointed to a man with dark hair falling to his shoulders walking out of her building. “There, I pick that one.”

Caleb shook his head as we watched Allie's future husband pause to light a cigarette. “He's too pretty to be straight.”

“So? I didn't say I wanted to have a romantic relationship with him, I said I wanted to marry him. Two totally different things—ask my parents.”

They were both wrong. The one thing I was sure about was that my marriage to Tad would always be romantic; I mean, the man had memorized the first forty-two of Shakespeare's sonnets. I also didn't think the guy in question was too pretty to be anything; in fact, just the opposite.

For some reason, we all became quiet as we watched him take a few long drags of his cigarette and walk into the darkness. When he was completely out of sight Allie heaved a big sigh and pushed the car door open. “As tempted as I am to chase him down and throw a lasso around his waist, I've really got to head up. There's a carton of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer and a bottle of Baileys in the cupboard and I don't feel comfortable leaving them alone for long periods of time. Call me tomorrow and give me the dirt about dinner.”

“Okay, but in case I get busy just assume it was awful.”

Caleb waited for Allie to get inside before directing the car toward Pacific Heights. “So you're engaged to Gandhi. But, tell me, how does he treat you?”

My grin widened. “He worships me.”

“Hon, lots of men worship you. Look in the mirror.”

I shook my head dismissively. “Not my body or my appearance.
Me
. He's always romancing me, telling me how considerate and fun I am. He's not possessive but he's protective. I guess you could say he's a little paternal.”

“Oh, here comes the Freudian psychoanalysis.”

“It'd be pretty hard for me to marry a man like my father, considering I've never met him.”

“So you find a guy who fits the bill and you're marrying him? I read somewhere you're not supposed to do that.”

“He's not a father figure, but…come on, Caleb, it's what every woman wants. To feel safe, protected, taken care of. I mean, yeah, I want to hold on to my independence, and Tad would never take that from me.” I waved my hand in the air as if trying to grasp the right words. “Everyone should have somebody who will go to bat for them. I've got that in Tad.”

Caleb gave my knee a little squeeze. “I'm glad you're happy, but just so you know, I'll always stick by you, too.” He stopped the car in front of Tad's. “Are you ready for this?”

“No.”

“Well, you're gonna have to get out of the car and deal, I have a date in twenty minutes.”

“Is this your version of sticking by me?”

“This is my version of forcing you to face the music. Now go take your pill and call me in the morning.”

I stuck my head between my hands. “I hate pills.”

“Give it a rest. It's not like you're dining with Hannibal Lector.”

He was right; it was just my mother. And if she hated Tad, so what? I hated most of
her
friends. This would just even the playing field. I gave Caleb a kiss on the cheek and climbed out. I mean, really, how bad could it be?

“G
oddess, is that you?” I heard Tad's voice filter through the intercom.

“Yep, that's me. Goddess of the underworld.”

There was a buzz and I pushed open the door and headed up the three flights to his apartment. Halfway up, the scent of my impending meal overwhelmed my senses and caused my stomach to rejoice. However, as I continued my climb I stopped rejoicing and focused on new and more disturbing observations. Tad was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. He was wearing a plaid shirt, untucked, and a pair of jeans that I had never seen before, although they definitely were not new. They had a rip in the knee and the rest of the fabric looked so worn I was sure that a few strokes of my hand would result in hole number two. He was also wearing sandals. Tad never wore sandals. Tennis shoes, dress shoes, boots. Once I had seen him wear a pair of boat shoes—but no sandals.

He extended his hand to me and kissed my palm. “You look gorgeous, as always.”

“Thanks, you look…interesting. What's with the new getup?”

“When in Rome…” Tad shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Speaking of which, your mom showed up early. She's very…Gothic today.”

“Gothic? Explain Gothic.”

“You'll see.” Tad led me into the apartment and presented me to my mother, who was lounging on the love seat fondling a glass of wine.

“April!” She gracefully rose from her seat and held her arms out in anticipation of a hug. Tad was right, she was gothic. She had added deep purple highlights to her curly dark hair and she was wearing a black crushed-velvet sheath dress and a jaggedly cut crystal pendant that dangled between her breasts. I have long since given up questioning my mother's fashion choices, so her outfit didn't really shock me. What did take me off guard was Tad's apartment.

His decor had always been tasteful if a little barren, but today he had done something completely different. There were candles everywhere, thick beeswax sticks held in new beaded candleholders by the windows, floating tea lights on top of the low bookshelf; plus, there was a batik sarong that I had never seen before hanging on the wall, and a little brass Hindu god sat cross-legged in the middle of the coffee table. It was like he had raided the clearance section of Pier One Imports. He had moved the dining table into the middle of the living room and, along with place settings, had decorated it with a dried fall-flower arrangement (wisely he placed this away from the candles). As far as I knew, the only dried thing he'd ever previously kept in his home was a boxful of raisins. My mother cleared her throat awkwardly and stretched her arms out a little more since I obviously wasn't getting the hint. I forced my mouth closed and gave her the expected embrace.

“Mom, I'm…I'm glad you could make it.” I was having a really hard time focusing. Were we listening to Sinéad O'Connor?

Tad silently handed me a glass of wine, which I downed in two gulps. I shot him a questioning glance, to which he responded with a sly wink. Maybe Tad really did have a long-lost twin and this was him. Not a good thing; long-lost twins were always evil.

He rested a hand on both mine and my mother's shoulders. “So, are you girls hungry?”

“Women,” my mother corrected, her hazel eyes narrowing. “We stopped being girls at eighteen.”

“Wow, I can't believe I said that. You are absolutely right, that was really insensitive of me.”

I did a quick double take. He was so totally evil-twin guy. My mother however was completely pacified. “We all have little slips of the tongue now and then.” She tried to toss her somewhat immobile hair. “How about it, April, you ready to
mangiare?
”

“By all means.” Mom and I took our seats while Tad excused himself to get the first course.

“I was wrong about Tad,” my mother confided in what qualified as a stage whisper. “He's wonderful. If you two break up, I might go for him myself.”

“This must be what Kendall feels like when introducing guys to Erika Kane.”

“Huh?” My mother shook her head uncomprehendingly.

“Nothing. Look, Tad and I are not breaking up. He is a great guy, just not necessarily the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, I know, I know, he explained everything to me. Last time, he was just trying to make an impression. I guess he thought I was going to be one of those Doris Day moms or something. This—” my mother made a sweeping gesture to direct my attention to the miniature fire hazards surrounding us “—this is the real him.”

“Everything going okay here?” Tad asked as he placed some adorable little grape-leaf-wrapped mystery food on our plates.

“Not really,” I said. “I'm kind of getting this
X-Files
vibe, except instead of turning into an alien or zombie, it seems you've morphed into the pre-Republican version of Sonny Bono.”

The fine lines on mom's forehead deepened. “The
X-Files?
”

“Get a television set,” I shot back impatiently.

Tad offered me a tolerant smile. “I think somebody had a bad day at work.”

“Or maybe she's menstruating,” my mother offered. “Honey, it's very important that we embrace the moods that are part of a woman's cycle. If you need to scream, cry or howl at the moon, you do it.”

What I wanted to do was give them both a whack upside the head. I took a steadying breath. Tad was trying to please my mother. So what? It was nice of him, irritating as hell, but nice. Time to offer an olive branch. “I'm not menstruating, Mom, but I did have a bad day at work. I'm sorry I snapped.”

My mother gave me a knowing nod, clearly she was clinging to her menstruation idea.

“No need to apologize,” Tad said, although I hadn't really been talking to him. He then turned to my mother. “April and I have news.”

If I had been hesitant to make the announcement before, I was loathing the prospect now. A few hours ago I had been nervous about our engagement but at least I had been enthusiastic about Tad.

“Oh, me, too…” Mom put down the fork before it had a chance to touch her food. “And it's big.”

Now I was really scared. My mind raced to figure out what Mom was about to spring on me. I didn't think she was pregnant; there were some mistakes even my mother refused to repeat. Nor was she going to confess to a lesbian love affair, because considering everything else she'd done in her life, that really wouldn't be all that newsworthy. I squeezed my eyes closed.
Please let it not be another commune
.

“I have found religion.”

I opened one eye. “You've rediscovered Judaism?” I asked hopefully.

Mom shook her head vigorously. “No, no, no. This is much more revolutionary than that. I now belong to the Temple of the Earth Goddess.”

Maybe a commune wouldn't be so bad. “Is this…temple…Does it require human sacrifices?”

“Don't be silly. It's a new movement that started in Santa Cruz. We already have almost two hundred members in our congregation. You see, we Children of the Earth—that's what we call ourselves—believe that all these so-called environmentalists have it wrong. It's not about respecting the environment, it's about worshipping it. We need to be kissing the ground we walk on and hugging the trees, not figuratively but literally. We have no right to kill the spiders that come into our homes. Every animal, insect and slug is part of the Earth Goddess's holy creation. If an ant enters our home we should feed it, not smash it, or worse, spray it with an evil poison created by our oppressors.”

“Our oppressors?”

“Proctor & Gamble.”

“All righty then.” I looked to Tad for support, but he was listening to her with an expression you would expect most people to wear while listening to a State of the Union address being delivered by a president they'd voted for. I placed both hands on the table and tried to center myself. “So let me get this straight. If you find an ant on your coffee table, you show it where you keep the bread?”

“Exactly!”

“So, your grocery bill has gone up since you joined this church?”

“Temple. I would never join a church.”

“Of course not, but a pagan cult, that's okay.”

“It sounds fascinating,” Tad said. “I've always felt that too many people get so wrapped up in the biblical religions that they lose sight of life's true essence.”

I sat there gawking at him. He had “always” felt this? By “always” did he mean for the last five minutes?

He tapped his finger against the edge of my mother's plate. “You should taste your appetizer, Kate, I think you'll like it.” At least he didn't immediately offer to sacrifice his table to the termites.

Mom gently pierced her food with her fork. “Is it vegetarian?”

Tad offered her a display of pearly whites. “Vegan.”

“Okay, that's it.” My chair crashed to the floor as I jumped to my feet. I glared at Tad. “I don't know if I need to take you to an exorcist or a rehab clinic, but if you don't snap out of it right now, this engagement is off!”

My mother clapped her hand over her heart. “Engagement? Honey, are you two getting married?”

“Not unless…” But no one was listening to me. Tad and Mom were hugging and kissing. She was choking back contrived sobs and he was laughing like an idiot. Finally Mom turned to me and placed her hands on both of my cheeks.

“Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you.” She sighed and cocked her head to the side. “Of course, you know how I feel about the institution of marriage, but if you believe that you need a piece of paper to bind you together then so be it. The important thing is you have found a truly wonderful man and I just know that the two of you will be happy.”

“I'm not happy.”

“That's wonderful, sweetie.”

Why was I even there? If I had skipped dinner and sent an inflatable sex doll in my place would anyone have noticed?

Tad righted my chair and held it out for me gallantly. “I know we all have a lot to talk about, but at this rate our food is going to spoil before we taste it.”

And then I did something unspeakably horrible. I sat down. I didn't scream at them for ignoring me; I didn't rail against them for showing so little regard for my feelings; I just sat down and ate my dinner. I listened to my mother tell Tad about the sixty or so holidays observed by the Children of the Earth: one for the fish, another for the invertebrates and so on. I stared blankly at Tad as he asked about the power of rose quartz. I did flinch when my mother asked if we would consider allowing her to marry us on a nude beach at midnight, but actually found myself mollified when Tad told her that I had the final say when it came to the wedding arrangements. I idly wondered what new narcotic had brought about my mother's current sense of enlightenment, because when it came to my mother there was almost always a drug involved, but I didn't express my concern. Every once in a while I'd throw out a question but I didn't push it when they were evaded, or out and out ignored. This was all wrong. Tad was supposed to be the sane and stable part of my life that made me feel safe. He was not supposed to be my mother's twin. But I couldn't get myself to challenge him now. If he sided with her against me and she saw it…I just wasn't strong enough to handle that. By the time dinner was over I felt nothing but a dull resentment directed not only at them but also at myself.

Finally the torture session came to an end and Mom stood up to make her farewells. “You two just have to come down to Santa Cruz soon. If you let me, I'll arrange a time for the priestess to bless your union. It's a lovely little ceremony, and all you have to do is stand there and drink the wine when she hands it to you. You will come, won't you?”

Tad squeezed her hand. “Of course, April and I will call as soon as we can coordinate our schedules.”

Mom gave us both another kiss and then skipped out of the apartment, leaving me with the alien-vegan life-form that claimed to be my fiancé.

Tad turned to me for the first time that evening and reached out to squeeze my waist. “I think she likes me now.”

“Well, at least somebody does.”

“Oh, come on.” He pulled me in a little closer. “All I did was tell her what she wanted to hear. What's wrong with that?”

“What's wrong with that?” I pushed away from him and crossed my arms in front of myself protectively. “Whatever happened to being yourself?”

Tad blinked his eyes in apparent incomprehension.

“Look at this place.” I shoved a bowlful of potpourri under his nose. “This isn't you. If I wanted to marry the male version of my mother I'd find myself a Hari Krishna guy and be done with it.”

I thought I saw a flash of anger cross his features, but I wasn't done yet. “And what about the way you treated me at dinner? You acted as if I wasn't even there. Worse, you acted like I didn't matter. Did you hear me when I asked you about the apartment and your newfound interest in astrology? I mean, if you don't respect me enough to take me seriously, maybe we really should rethink this—”