The Accidental Bestseller (19 page)

It wasn’t exactly an original comment—Tanya doubted there were any comments about her children’s names that they hadn’t heard—but Loretta and Crystal giggled. Brett Adams had that effect on women. Tanya reminded herself there was no way on God’s earth he could be as good natured as he seemed, but she caught herself smiling nonetheless.

“I swear we’ve got almost enough for a girls’ softball team,” he continued. “If you and Trudy were willing to play and I put on a pair of Soffes . . .”

Tanya laughed out loud at the very idea of it. He smiled at her laughter, clearly pleased that he’d produced it.

“You don’t do that near enough,” he said, “not nearly. But I intend to work on that.”

Before Tanya could answer, he turned to her mother. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Trudy. How old were you when you had Tanya here? Ten? Twelve? I figure you musta been a child yourself cuz you all look more like sisters than mother and daughter.”

Trudy harrumphed, but the smile hovering on her lips and the flush on her cheeks made it clear she wasn’t immune to Brett’s charm.

Tanya wanted to laugh again at the blatant flattery, but she had to admit the man could probably charm paint off the wall.

“Val”—Brett turned to his oldest, still spinning his parental magic—“why don’t you take the girls into your room and teach them some of your modeling techniques?”

“Val’s on the high school teen board,” he explained as the girls turned and left without a lick of protest. “She gets to do runway modeling at the Macy’s fashion shows.”

“Wow, that was smooth,” Tanya conceded, as the bedroom door closed behind the girls and Brett led her and Trudy past the dining alcove and into the small U-shaped kitchen. A small ceramic bowl of nuts and a board with cheese and crackers sat on one counter, individual Caesar salads sat on the other, ready to be served.

“When you’re outnumbered three to one on a daily basis, you have to develop some skills,” he said.

Deftly he poured them each a drink and when they insisted on helping, he asked Trudy to put the salads out at each place and let Tanya fill the glasses with ice water for the adults and milk for the girls. Then they nibbled on the appetizers while Brett pulled the roasting pan out of the oven and lifted the lid with a flourish to reveal a pot roast laced with potatoes and carrots.

Tanya got a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach, which she identified as hunger and then resolutely pushed away. Just because the man could cook and do laundry didn’t mean he didn’t have a whole passel of faults. Still, she had to admit that the evening flowed effortlessly.

With Brett as ringmaster and buffer, the meal flew by. And when dinner was over, Valerie led the girls—even Loretta and Crystal, who normally whined at the slightest sign of housework—in clearing and doing the dishes while she and Brett and Trudy, who had miraculously confined herself to only two beers, sat at the table and talked over their coffees, both of them basking in the attention Brett seemed so willing to bestow.

“Y’all have any special plans for the holiday weekend coming up?” he asked as he poured them another round of coffee.

This of course had been a major source of contention between her and Trudy. Tanya snuck a look at her mother, but Trudy had all of her attention focused on their host.

“I wanted to go up to North Carolina to help a writer friend, but I think it’s too much for Mama to take care of the girls again so soon,” Tanya said, trying not to gag on the enormity of the understatement. Trudy had pitched a first-class hissy fit at the mere mention of the idea. “And I don’t think Belle’s wantin’ to give me any more time off after the days I took to go to New York.”

Brett studied her intently for a moment and then he turned to address her mother. “Why, I bet Trudy could manage your girls with one hand tied behind her back,” he said.

So much for Brett Adams’s grasp on reality. Tanya was about to set the record straight when he turned slightly away from Trudy and sent Tanya a wink; sure confirmation that he had no idea what he was up against.

“Oh, I’m sure she could,” Tanya said, somehow managing to keep a straight face, “but I wouldn’t dream of asking her to do it.” She leveled a gaze at her mother. “She does so much already.”
Especially if you counted drinking and complaining.

Trudy simpered. She may have actually batted her eyelashes at Brett. “Oh, I never mind watching the girls. I opened my own house up to them when Tanya left that no account excuse for a man she was married to.”

Tanya bit down on her lip, hard, to stop herself from pointing out that she, at least, had been married when her children were conceived. And that she’d tried her best to turn Kyle Mason into a responsible human being before she’d finally given up.

Brett sent Tanya a bracing look; a glint of humor lit his eyes. “It would be a shame not to be able to help a friend,” he said. And then, as if the idea had just occurred to him, “You know if you were to go, Valerie could help Trudy out. She’s used to managing the younger ones and despite her unfortunate choices in lingerie . . .” He raised his voice on this and got an, “Oh, Dad!” from the kitchen in return. “. . . she’s really pretty responsible.”

His oldest huffed into the dining area apparently prepared to defend her taste in lingerie further if necessary.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask Valerie to—” Tanya began.

“I could do it, Miz Mason,” Valerie said. “If I have all four of them together it’ll keep Andi and Dani from killing each other.”

Tanya had begun to feel the tiniest ray of hope, but unlike Brett, she knew her mother. Every concession required begging and negotiating with a heavy emphasis on answering Trudy’s question of “What’s in it for me?”

“I really don’t think Belle’s gonna want me traipsing off again so soon anyway,” Tanya said. “So . . .”

But Trudy, clearly basking in the glow of Brett’s attention, evidently craved his approval, too. “If Valerie’ll be helping out with the girls, I could probably take Tanya’s shifts.”

Tanya’s mouth dropped open as she contemplated the woman who had temporarily taken over her mother’s body. “But you’d have to get out of bed early, you’d—”

“If you’re thinking about saying anything besides, ‘Thanks, that sounds great,’ you might want to reconsider,” Brett interjected.

“But . . .”

He raised an eyebrow at her and cocked his head to one side. He flashed her a conspiratorial grin, which he managed to hide from Trudy.

And just like that Tanya discovered she was going to Kendall’s mountain house to help her brainstorm. She could hardly wait to e-mail Mallory to accept the airline ticket she’d offered.

15

—VIRGINIA WOOLF

 

 

 

“Are you almost ready?” Mallory called through the bedroom door.

“Five minutes,” Kendall called back. “I just need to finish dressing.”

“Well, hurry up. If you want to stop at your house for more clothes before we pick up Faye and Tanya at the airport, we need to get going.”

Kendall took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. She’d had a day and a half to prepare for this little venture back into Atlanta, but she wasn’t anywhere near ready. Her fingers actually trembled as she buttoned up her blouse and pulled on a pair of black slacks. She’d washed and blow-dried her hair and put on makeup for the expedition, like a knight drawing on his armor.

She was hoping to avoid seeing Calvin, or God forbid, his girlfriend, Laura Wiles, but she was determined to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. Which would entail discovering the two of them living and sleeping together in
her
home with a For Sale sign firmly planted in the front yard.

In the kitchen Mallory handed her a cup of coffee in a togo mug and poured one for herself. “You ready?”

Kendall drew another deep breath and told herself it would only be a matter of hours before she’d be back. And she’d have her posse with her. “As I’ll ever be.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Mallory said. “We’re just going to stop by your house, pick up some things, see about getting a referral to a lawyer, and then we’re on to the airport.”

“But what if they’re there?” Kendall gave voice to her fear, afraid even as she did so that speaking it aloud might summon it into being.

“Then we’ll do what we came to do and make them feel like the shits they are while we’re doing it,” Mallory said. “You’re the injured party here, Kendall. And don’t you forget it.”

On the drive into Atlanta, they made desultory conversation. Kendall’s hands clutched the wheel too tightly and her gaze stayed straight ahead. By the time the office towers of the Perimeter area appeared, she’d gnawed off most of her lipstick and imagined a hundred horrible scenarios.

The traffic grew lighter as she exited Highway 400 and turned onto Roswell Road. It was Friday morning in the northern suburbs; the school drop-offs had already been completed and the afternoon carpools and after-school activities not yet begun. Those women who worked were already in their offices; ditto for those who shopped and/or played tennis.

Kendall held her breath as she made the left into her subdivision and took the first right onto Dahlia Lane. “Please, God,” she prayed silently. “Don’t let them be there.” She drove down the street slowly. If she could have done it with her eyes closed, she would have.

Turning into the driveway, she thanked Him for the lack of a Realtor’s sign. Her last prayer was answered when the garage door went up and she found it empty. Almost giddy with relief, and possibly from holding her breath, Kendall pulled into the garage and turned off the car. She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and breathed deeply in an attempt to restore her equilibrium.

“Are you OK?” Mallory asked.

Kendall lifted her head and nodded. “I think so. But I don’t want to stay here any longer than we need to.”

“Got it.” Mallory was the first to open her car door. “Let’s roll.”

Together they entered through the garage door and paused for a moment to survey the kitchen and family room.

“Wow!” Kendall exclaimed.

“No kidding,” Mallory agreed. “It looks like a bomb went off in here.” She did a 360 as they both took it all in. “If the lovely Laura’s been here, she’s a really sucky housekeeper.”

“I’d say Cal’s been on his own. I can’t believe anyone with an ovary would leave this big a mess,” Kendall concluded.

They surveyed what surely qualified as a natural disaster area. Dishes were piled high in the sink and on the kitchen counter as well as on the coffee and end tables. At some point a move had been made to paper plates and these dotted the landscape, too.

The garbage can was stuffed to overflowing with empty beer bottles, food wrappers, and take-out bags. A pizza box with nothing but crumbs and clumps of cold cheese in it sat on the floor beside it.

Kendall made a move toward the pizza box.

“Don’t you dare pick up a thing,” Mallory said. “This is not your mess. Go get your things. I’ll wait in your office.”

Kendall climbed the front stairs to the master bedroom, which was also covered with debris and puddles of clothing, clearly left wherever Calvin had stepped out of them.

The bed was rumpled and unmade and Kendall turned her head away, unwilling to think about who might have shared it with him. Pulling a suitcase from the closet, she emptied her dresser drawers into it, then scooped an armful of hanging clothes together. It took them three trips to get everything down and into the car. Back in her office she considered what calls she needed to make.

At Mallory’s urging she dialed two recently divorced friends who she’d heard had come out well. Both of them offered sympathy and gave her the same name.

“Call her right now,” Mallory said. “See if you can get an appointment for early next week after Faye and Tanya leave.”

She didn’t mention her own travel plans and Kendall didn’t ask. Right now she couldn’t imagine doing any of what had to be done on her own.

Knowing she couldn’t cop out with Mallory right there she picked up the phone and dialed Justiss, Delaney, and Tannen baum, Attorneys at Law, and asked for an appointment with Anne Justiss. “I don’t suppose she has anything free for next week?” she said to the secretary who took her call.

“Why yes, actually, we’ve had a cancellation at eleven thirty Wednesday morning. Can you spell your name for me?”

In disbelief, Kendall did as requested. With a pen and a piece of paper Mallory shoved in front of her, she jotted down the date and time and copied directions to the office in mid-town Atlanta.

“See?” Mallory said, after she’d hung up. “Not so hard. We just take one small step at a time.” They were sitting in Kendall’s office, the one room in the house that didn’t bear the signs of Calvin’s bachelorhood. As they talked, Kendall cleared her desk and stuffed nonessential files into the filing cabinet. She found a box in the closet and filled it with office supplies, a few reference books and business-related files, as well as her favorite knickknacks and photos of her and the kids. “I feel like a longtime employee who’s just been sacked.”

Mallory smiled and shook her head. “I prefer to think of you as a budding entrepreneur about to go out on her own.” She hefted the box into her arms. “It’ll be OK, Kendall. Really. Most of the time the really horrible stuff turns out, in the end, to be for the best. It just takes a while to realize it.”

“Spoken with the voice of experience,” Kendall said, but any hope that Mallory might elucidate was dashed when she carted the box out to the car, leaving Kendall alone.

Before she could lose her nerve, Kendall dialed Melissa’s cell phone number and waited while it rang. When she was just about to hang up, her daughter picked up, apparently short of breath.