by L. B. Dunbar
“I’ll be in contact,” Ruthie says to me, dipping her head, and my gut tells me that’s worse. Before I can think too much more, Cora, who has her arm looped with mine, leads me into the house. My head turns back for Vega, but she remains on the walk, watching her dad leave her behind. Just as I’m ready to turn back for her, Zander comes into view and picks her up. My heart settles a little bit. He’s a great uncle.
“Your father was a sweet man. I lost my daddy a long time ago, and Henri was good to me.” Cora speaks under her breath. “I’m not asking for any details about that man outside. You forget about him on your front step.” She tightens her arm in mine.
“Thank you.” I pause and tip my head toward the door, implying her intervention with Richard. “For that.”
“I know all about scandalous, adultering men like him, and I’m no longer afraid to stand up to the likes of them.” She turns to face me, slowly releasing my arm. “And you shouldn’t be either. There are people around here who will support you.”
Again, I don’t know who she means, but my thoughts jump to Charlie.
Move in with him. Pretend we’re engaged. It’s too much, and I can’t do it to him or me. I’m too emotionally wrapped up in him to pretend, unlike how I faked my love for Richard and turned my head at his multitude of indiscretions.
“Seeing as my best friend is on the road trip of a lifetime this summer, I think you and I should become friends.”
“Who’s your best friend?” I ask, finding it funny that a woman over forty is asking me to be her friend like we’re in first grade.
“Matilda Harrington.”
I almost groan. I can’t seem to get away from those Harringtons.
+ + +
That night, Vega remains quiet as we fall into our matching twin beds. Zander has gone out again, and my mother finally settled down. I’m praying the exhaustion of the day keeps her from wailing for one night.
“You okay, baby?” The past few days have been a rush of emotion and activity. I’ve been more focused on Mami than Vega, and I don’t know what she’s feeling over there.
“Why was Dad here?” Vega didn’t attend the wake for my father. I didn’t want her to see him like that—in the coffin—so it was a surprise when Richard showed up at the church.
“Dad’s here,” she whispered at my side before the funeral mass began. We were already seated, and my hand on her thigh told her not to leave the pew.
Vega also didn’t go to the burial. I worried it was too much for her, and thankfully, Elaina Harrington took charge of my child once again. So, Vega hadn’t had the chance to really see Richard until she found him standing before the coach house.
And he paid her all of three seconds’ worth of attention and no affection.
I sigh, staring up at the ceiling, uncertain of how to answer her.
“He wants me to pretend we are still married until the season ends.” I’ve never lied to my child, just tried to hold back the truth as best I could. She wasn’t aware of his adulterous ways until she witnessed it herself. It was difficult to explain why her father was in bed with another woman, and why she was doing what she was doing to him.
“But you aren’t married anymore,” Vega says, and I roll to my side, seeking her face across the room.
“I’m not, baby, and I won’t ever go back to him.”
“Why does he want you to pretend?”
“Remember we talked about image and how important it can be for others to see someone a certain way. Your dad needs people to see him as a family man, at least while baseball is the sport of the season.” In the off-season, no one will care as much about his personal life.
“He isn’t a family man,” she whispers, and I hear the tears in her voice. “Papi loved me more than Dad does.”
I quickly flip my covers and crawl into bed with her, tucking her into my chest.
“Papi loved you very much, and he was so excited for you to live here with him.” We’d only been here a little over a month, but my father was trying to fill a void in both himself and my daughter by taking Vega to places with him and asking her to help in small ways around the yard.
“I wish Dad had died instead,” she whispers into my chest, and I tug her tighter.
“No, Vega. No. Daddy was a bad husband and a not-so-great man, but we don’t wish him to die. We don’t hate like that, baby, or it will eat us up.”
She nods into my sternum, but the tears fall on my pajama shirt. Her hands slip between us so she can cover her face, and my lips come to her hair.
“We’re going to be okay, baby. We’re going to be okay,” I say, not certain if I’m reassuring her or myself. Perhaps both.
23
A Swing and a Miss
[Janessa]
The following Monday, I return to work. Charlie and I haven’t had much interaction the remainder of the week as I refused to let Vega sleep at Lucy’s again. I need her close to me, and I used my mother as an excuse.
“Mami wants you here.”
My mother returned to work as well, saying she needed to busy her hands to ease her mind.
The person who doesn’t go anywhere is Zander.
“I think I’m going to stick around for a little bit longer.”
I don’t question him although I’m surprised he’s taking two weeks off in a row. Like me, he was given bereavement time, but he’s added a week of vacation. Knowing Zander, he has time piled up as he works hard and hasn’t taken any vacations that I know of in the past few years.
The budget proposal for the walking trail and church purchase is on the agenda for the town council meeting on my first night back, and I’ve tried to collect my own thoughts over the past few days despite being home with my mother. I have a sound presentation with the financial reports from three other cities matching the population of Blue Ridge that did what I’m proposing as well as a general town plan which doesn’t involve destruction but more renovation of the church and creation of the walking path.
When it nears five o’clock, I come down from my office on the second floor and hear voices in the dining room turned conference room. I planned to avoid Charlie most of the day, but it wasn’t necessary as I hadn’t seen him. His voice stops me outside the pocket doors, which stand slightly ajar.
“I’m glad you see the light, Charlie.” The voice of Wyatt Hubner makes me pause, and although I shouldn’t be listening, I can’t help myself.
“It’s still a good proposal,” Charlie says.
“But a million dollars for a sidewalk?” Wyatt scoffs.
“She’s ambitious. I’ll give her that,” Charlie retorts, but it isn’t praise. He isn’t exactly defending me. “She doesn’t understand the ways of small towns, but she’ll get there.”
“This is why outsiders shouldn’t be hired,” Wyatt adds.
“It isn’t that,” Charlie says. “She just doesn’t have experience.” His voice lowers, and I strain to hear what he says next. “But she’s a good egg, and she’ll eventually be an asset to Parks and Recreation.”
A good egg? What am I, a fucking chicken? And eventually, but not now?
“She’s a pain in the ass is more like it.” Wyatt laughs, and to my dismay, so does Charlie. “Her presentation will be a waste of time as you’re only going to veto it.”
What?
I push open the double pocket doors, and Charlie freezes, his eyes locking on mine. Wyatt’s chuckle slowly dies to a cough, and I turn on him first.
“Mr. Hubner, I look forward to wasting your time this evening.” At least, Wyatt has the chagrin to blush before he stands, and mutters, “Well, I never,” and I bite my lip from retorting how I imagine that’s his problem.
After Wyatt exits, I glare at Charlie.
“Won’t you sit?” He gestures to the conference table and all the chairs opposite him.
“No, I won’t sit. Although I suppose that’s how good eggs hatch,” I snap. “Or is it that a good egg gets laid?” I pause. “Maybe a good e
gg gives a good lay.”
“That’s enough,” Charlie barks back at me as he stands on the other side of the large oval table.
“You just dismissed me as though I’m a kid asking for candy.”
Charlie sighs. “It’s more complicated than that, and you know it. A million dollars isn’t just lying around in our town budget, and while your proposal is a good one, it’s just not doable.”
“And who decides?” I cross my arms and glare at him because the purpose of the town council meeting is to let the town decide if it’s in the budget. Then I recall what Wyatt said. “You’re not going to approve the proposal. You’re going to let me make the presentation and then make me look like a fool by rejecting it.”
I stare at him, my stomach feeling like he socked me.
“It’s also not that simple,” he says, swiping a hand through his hair.
“But you’re the mayor. You have the final say.”
Charlie doesn’t look at me. His knuckles brace his hands on the large conference table.
“Maybe I’ll need to find a million dollars another way,” I say, my voice full of the venom I feel at his rejection of my idea. His head snaps upward. I have his attention now.
“You wouldn’t.” His eyes narrow as he knows exactly what I’m implying. Three months with Richard and I could have the church for a community center and a train park plus the city walk.
“You never believed in this proposal, did you? You don’t believe in me.” Maybe I’m making more of this than it is, but I feel personally attacked. I’ve spoken with him about this plan, seeing him here and there in this office.
“I don’t want you anywhere near him,” Charlie says, rounding the table to near me, but I step back.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me when you don’t believe in me.”
“I didn’t say that I didn’t believe in you.”
“You laughed when Wyatt said I was a pain in the ass.”
“That was to throw him off, and you are a pain in the ass sometimes.” He slowly smiles, but I don’t find any humor in this conversation.
“But you still think it’s true. You don’t think the plan should be approved. You won’t approve the budget for it.”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” My voice rises, and my fingers curl into fists at my side. Charlie stands feet from me, and he needs to keep his distance.
“I can’t just give you the money, especially since…” His voice falters, and his eyes drift away.
“You’re worried someone will find out about us. If someone knows you fucked me, and then I get this project, it makes you look bad.” My voice rises higher.
“Would you keep your voice down?” he suggests, stepping up to me and reaching for my arms, but I step back again, kicking at one of the chairs.
“It makes it look like sleeping with you for town favors works.”
Charlie’s eyes narrow. “It makes it look like you slept with me for a favor.”
I gasp. How dare he?
“Is that what you think I did?” My voice lowers to more like a growl.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying, Charlie?”
“I’m saying I’m not going to approve the proposal, and I don’t want people to look at you and think you slept with me to get it.”
My hip juts out, and I cross my arms.
“Well, I guess we won’t have to worry about that, as no one will find out, especially since it won’t happen again.”
I glare at him a second and then lower my arms. “Why did you give me this job, Mayor, if you aren’t going to let me do it? Was it a pity position?” We had sex the night before the interview, and then the first day I got the job. Am I paying him back for hiring me without knowing it?
“It isn’t pity.”
“What is it then?”
Charlie doesn’t answer, and the only logical thing I can think of is he hired me to get in my pants.
It worked. I fell for it. I let myself think he believed in me and my new mission, and it was all for naught.
Brushing past Charlie, I bump into his arm, acting childish as I exit. The double doors remain open, and I stalk to the chair where I left my things before barging into the conference room. From the front parlor, I see Charity watching me, standing in the middle of the reception area before the offices of Harrington & Rathstone. I meet her eyes. She smooths her hands down her skirt and comes closer to me.
“This is what you get,” she whispers, holding my attention. Her eyes shift to the conference room, but Charlie has already left the room for his office. He isn’t chasing me. “You can’t sleep with Charlie without getting fucked, and fucking him will not get you anywhere.”
I glare back at her in her uptight suit and drab brown hair pulled tightly into a bun. “My, what language you have? Is that what happened to you? Did you sleep with him, hoping to be his girl? The woman on his arm as he runs for Congress one day. Did Daddy put you up to it, or are you pining over a man who has no interest in you? He’s your boss.”
I could be wrong. Maybe Charlie does want someone like Charity—arm candy in a different manner. Not bosomy, curvy, or sassy like me, but demure, petite, and refined written all over her. Maybe that’s what Charlie wants to match his good ole boy image and his public persona as a potential congressman.
“He’s your boss, too, and you’d be wise to remember that. No one wants rumors to get around that the new girl tried to sleep her way to the top. And you’re crazy if you think you’re what Charlie wants. I’m the woman who’s stood by him for ten years. I’m the one who’s been here for him, and I’m the better match for him.”
Her eyes roam over my body, and my heart races. I’d like to slap her. I did no such thing as sleep my way to the top, but from the argument Charlie and I just had—which I’m certain this busybody just heard—there’s no doubt she thinks that’s what I’ve done. And she looks all too happy to be the one to start the gossip.
She slept with Charlie to get what she wanted.
That type of lie was my biggest fear when I worked a decade ago in sports marketing. Oh, the irony. I could defend that Charlie is all I want, but not if he has no faith in me. Not if he’s pushing our reputations to the side because he doesn’t want a scandal. I’ve already been in this position with Richard. Sleeping with the enemy is what I call when a man wants your body but has no interest in your opinion.
Fuck him. Fuck both of them.
A good egg?
My egg is gold, and I’ll be laying it elsewhere.
“You might not be wrong that you’re the better match for Charlie, but Charity, there’s a name for women like you. Sad comes to mind. Pathetic is next. None of the rest is Christian and charitable like your namesake, so I’ll leave it at this. Maybe you’re the one fucked by Charlie because he’s not going to pick you as his partner. If he hasn’t already, it’s never going to happen. And in case you haven’t noticed, he’s a single man, and it seems to suit him.”
I hike my bag higher on my shoulder and dismiss myself without saying goodbye.
+ + +
As if the day hasn’t been bad enough, Ruthie Avery calls me as she promised. I’ve been ignoring Richard’s text, but her call gets through to me in a moment of weakness.
“We’d like to ask you to attend Richard’s first game in Atlanta on Thursday evening. Bring Vega, please. We’ll set you up at a hotel and provide seats in the area reserved for wives and girlfriends.”
I balk at the suggestion. How many times did Vega and I not attend a game, and another woman took my place unbeknownst to me?
“That’s not doable for me.”
Ruthie sighs through the phone. “Ms. Cruz, I understand he isn’t a great man. That’s what I’ve been hired for, but there’s a return on this investment for you. A million dollars is nothing to scoff at as a single mother.”
I’d like to smack her through the phone. I don’t need the remin
der of my status, let alone my financial circumstances.
“Some things are worth more than money, Ms. Avery. Like my pride.”
“I understand. I do.” She sighs, and I wonder if she’s ever been caught up in one of her clients, knowing he’s a bad man at heart but still falling for his charm. “I lost my husband. He was in the military, and I had nowhere to go but to stick with my in-laws. I work for them in this business.”
If she’s looking for kindred connections, I’m not making them although I feel for her plight.
“I’m sorry about your husband.”
“I know what it’s like to feel desperate.”
“I’m not desperate,” I snap. I was…before…when I stayed, and I accepted Richard as he is. I turned a blind eye but not anymore. I’m free now, and there’s a world of difference.
“Of course not. Seeing as Mr. Swank attended the funeral, we just thought you might be willing to attend the game.”
“I fail to see how the two relate.”
Silence fills the line. She can’t possibly think she’s right. The death of my father and pretending to be a spouse at a baseball game do not equate, especially since we are divorced.
“You’re right. I’ll still leave tickets at will call, and a hotel reservation in your name if you change your mind. That’s always a woman’s prerogative.”
24
New Friends
[Janessa]
The presentation goes well, and the projected cityscape plans are beautiful, but I can see from the townspeople’s reaction to the question of money that they aren’t on board with a city walk and converting a church into a community center doesn’t sit well with some.
Well-trained at keeping my brave face on, I smile while the questions fly, and then Wyatt leads the discussion to a vote. Charlie is the deciding factor in vetoing the idea, but he suggests we reconsider it in the following spring. In my opinion, next spring is too late. We need construction this year to benefit the next year’s tourism cycle, but what do I know. According to him, I don’t understand small-town ways.
