The men stayed clear of the kitchen that evening, sitting in front of the television with beers while they supposedly kept their eyes on the children. Teddy was the only man there who really knew where his child was, though—likely because little Thomas was sleeping in his arms.
On Thursday, Will was one of the first to arrive in the kitchen. Liz had gotten him a full sized red apron with “Good lookin’ is cookin’” written on the front in big black letters. He had researched dishes he could cook this year, determined to make his own without any help from anyone else. He’d chosen an English stuffing—very appropriate, he thought—and set to work in a corner of the spacious kitchen.
Liz had bought a table that comfortably seated sixteen and could squeeze in a couple more. She figured they’d often have large groups out here and that it would come in handy. The older girls were having a great time setting it and placing tiny pumpkins and gourds down the center and special miniature white pumpkins next to each place and sticking them with nametags that looked like flags.
Looking around the kitchen at all her family making food—Teddy carefully braiding the bread Will had done last year, Caroline getting more instruction from her mother, and her sweet husband checking his stuffing in the oven—Liz felt a few moments of pure bliss before the realization that this was probably the last time they would do this slammed into her. It was so strong she lost her breath for a moment and grabbed the counter to steady herself. Don’t think about it, Lizzy. Be here, now. Think about it tomorrow. She took a sip of her wine and stirred the gravy.
Dinner went off without a hitch. Nothing was burnt and everyone talked and drank a little too much wine and stuffed themselves with pie. They laughed till their sides hurt then collapsed onto sofas and easy chairs then all went to bed early.
Friday afternoon, Liz’s family piled back into the vans to go to the airport and head home to Virginia, Tiffany and Loretta with several bags from their shopping expedition earlier that day, and the children excitedly chattering about all the things they had seen and done. Liz waved them off and headed back inside the house where they would stay with Teddy and Caroline and baby Thomas until Sunday afternoon. Liz plopped down on the sofa next to Caroline and put her feet on the coffee table. Thomas was asleep and the men wouldn’t be back from the drop-off for at least an hour.
“Tired?” Caroline asked.
“Yup. I am really looking forward to just relaxing the rest of the weekend. How are you feeling? How’s the baby?”
Caroline caressed her growing belly softly. “We’re both just fine. She’s been kicking a lot more lately. I think she’s had a growth spurt.”
“How far along are you now? Five months?” Caroline nodded. “And you think it’s a girl?”
“I have a feeling. But I would be happy with a boy. Thomas would have a lifelong playmate and it would take some pressure off him down the road.”
“You mean like with the business?”
“Yes. And the title and all of that. The earldom is passed through male heirs, so Teddy will inherit the title and properties, etc. when his father passes on, and on to Thomas. But there has always been Calvin to give Teddy a little leeway, you know? Like if he only had daughters, he knew his brother could inherit, or if he had no children at all.”
Liz shook her head. “Now that’s what you call a first world problem,” she teased and Caroline shoved her arm playfully while she laughed along. “But I do see your point. Our father was the only son of his parents and I know he would have liked to have had a son to carry on the name.”
“Will one of your sisters keep it and give it to her children, maybe?”
“Perhaps. Heather might. We’ll just have to wait and see.” She shrugged and leaned her head back on the cushion.
“When do you think you and William will have children?” Caroline asked.
Liz stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Not any time soon. I’m just getting my career established and we’re still pretty new as a couple. It’s not like we dated for years before we got married, you know?”
“Yeah, I can see how that would make a difference. Teddy and I dated for nearly four years before we married, then it was three more before we got pregnant, and we’re older than you two. I’d forgotten how much younger you are than me. You’ve got plenty of time.” She squeezed Liz’s knee and rose from the sofa. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”
Liz said goodnight and continued sitting where she was, watching the fan go round and round and round in the vaulted ceiling. Plenty of time.
The thought ran through her mind and for the first time, she thought about her life in terms of her biological clock. She was twenty-four now, she would be twenty-five in the spring, and the divorce was planned for next autumn. She would likely stay single for a while before she even started dating anyone, as much for appearances as for her own preferences. Then who knew how long it would take to find a man she liked and could love and would be a good husband and a good father and respect her and take her seriously even though she liked to cook. Not to mention someone she could actually live with without wanting to strangle.
No, she didn’t think she’d be having children any time soon, likely not until she was thirty at least. She sighed and got up to head to her room. It would have been nice to have kids close in age to Caroline’s and Mary’s so they could play together. But who was she kidding? She would probably see very little of Caroline after the divorce, so it was a moot point anyway. Suddenly feeling very sad, Liz ran a hot bath and sank into it while she waited for Will to get home and comfort her as only he could.
40
tit for tat
January
1 Year, 9 Months Married
On a cold, mid-January afternoon, Liz sat at a table in a Ukrainian café in the west village waiting for Sheila to arrive. After waiting for ten minutes and getting through the next two chapters of the book she was reading, a harried Sheila plopped into the seat across from her, bags bustling as she tried to stuff them under her chair.
“Rough day?” Liz asked.
Sheila unwound her scarf and hung her coat on the back of her chair. “You can say that again. I hate the PTA!”
“The Parent Teacher Association? What happened?”
Sheila groaned. “There’s this big fundraiser coming up next week— fancy dinner, silent auction, typical stuff.”
Liz nodded.
“Every parent was supposed to contribute something to the auction. Well, several somethings, but they can come from anywhere. So I went around to the local businesses and asked them to donate gift certificates or items to the auction.”
“Sounds good.”
“Not so fast! I brought them to this morning’s meeting and Piper Sanders,” she said scathingly, “head of fundraising, said my contributions were not enough.”
“What? Why not?”
“They didn’t have enough ‘monetary value’ and weren’t likely to bring in extra bids. For the first time, the auction is available online this year, too. They were hoping to get some really good stuff and advertise it around—social media, networking, etcetera—and get some bidders that aren’t connected to the school. Apparently my ‘little gift certificates’ were thinking too small,” she said bitterly.
“Ouch. What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea.” She put her head in her hands on the table, corkscrew curls spilling over her fingers. “I have two days to come up with something brilliant and I don’t have a clue where to start.”
“Don’t private schools have enough money? I mean, isn’t that what they charge tuition for?”
“Apparently not.” She raised her head and looked at her friend. “They want to build a new gymnasium and the fundraiser also supports the scholarship programs, which are really great, but right now I just want to scream. I don’t know why I wanted to join this committee in the first place. I let all those snooty moms make me feel guilty for not being more involved in the school and now look at me!
I’m a wreck!”
“You are not a wreck! You’re just stressed,” Liz said soothingly.
“And I’m supposed to sell ten of these stupid tickets to this stupid dinner.” She waved a white rectangle in front of her. “You don’t want to buy one, do you?” she asked hopefully.
“Would I actually have to go to the dinner?”
“I don’t care. Give the ticket to a homeless guy or a cop or somebody who needs a nice dinner. Just buy one!”
Liz laughed at her friend’s desperate expression. “All right, I’ll buy one. How much are they?”
“Ninety-five dollars.”
“For dinner? Geez, no wonder you’re having trouble selling them.”
“And admittance to the auction,” Sheila said with a smile as she pocketed Liz’s cash and handed her a ticket.
“So you pay to get the chance to spend more money. Perfect.”
Sheila ignored her last comment. “Now I just have to figure out something amazing to auction off.”
“What sort of things are they looking for?”
“Anything, really. There have been a few historical or artistic items; a local painter donated a small piece and some prints, a parent is giving a first edition of some famous book.”
“Careful, people might suspect you’re a lit major.”
“Ha ha.” She threw her friend a look and took a bite of her varenyky. “There have been a lot of experiences. A day at a spa, a weekend at some posh cabin, that sort of thing.”
“Sounds tough. Good luck.” Liz smiled sympathetically.
“Thanks.”
**
The next day, as Liz sat in her den going over notes from one of her authors, Sheila called.
“Hello?” she answered.
“I’ve got it!”
“Hello to you, too. I’m fine, a little busy with work, but otherwise doing well.”
“Hi, how are you? Now listen! I know what I can sell in the auction!”
“That’s great! What is it?”
“Well, I was doing a little research and I saw that in other auctions, unique experiences were the biggest sellers. Like lunch with an influential businessman or a famous actor or something. Give people a chance to pick their brain and find out something no one else knows.”
“Sounds good. Who do you know? Or is Peter a fancy enough lawyer that he’ll do?”
“Actually, I was thinking about William.”
“William? My William?”
“Yes. Do you think he would do it?”
“Have you met William? He hates strangers! He hates business lunches! And I’m pretty sure he would hate being sold at auction.”
“He wouldn’t be sold! It’s not a bachelor auction. Quit being dramatic! It would just be a little lunch, in public, with a time limit. He could even make it coffee in his office or an hour some random afternoon. Whatever it is, I think it’ll be a huge hit.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Is that a serious question? This is William Harper we’re talking about here! He has controlling interest in Taggston Incorporated, one of the biggest conglomerates in THE WORLD. The WORLD, Liz. Not just the city or the state or even the country.”
“All right, all right, I get it, he’s a big deal. I still don’t think he’d do it, even if you told him how important he is.”
“I could throw in smart and handsome.”
“He hates flattery.”
“I’ll make him tamales. And green enchiladas. What does he want? I’ll do anything!”
“It’s like you said, Sheila. He’s William Harper. If there’s something he wants, he’s probably already got it.”
Sheila sighed. “So you won’t give me his number?”
“No, but I know that wouldn’t stop you. I’m pretty sure Peter has it, anyway. I’ll ask him, but that’s all I can promise.”
Sheila thanked her and hung up the phone. Wanting to get her promise over with, Liz quickly called William.
“Hey babe,” Harper answered his phone as he was walking out of the conference room, Evelyn walking swiftly beside him with a stack of papers.
“Hey. Do you have a minute?”
“A quick minute.” He paused to listen to Evelyn tell him something about the meeting they’d just left. “What’s up?”
“I just talked to Sheila and she is involved with this fundraiser dinner and silent auction at her son’s school and she needs help. I already bought a ticket,” he whispered instructions to Evelyn with his hand over the receiver as they reached her desk, “but she needs to contribute to the auction itself. She wants to sell a lunch or coffee meeting or something with you and let someone pick your amazing business brain.”
His hand was over the speaker again. “Tell them I want to see those revised contracts on my desk by noon tomorrow, and book Wells for first thing in the morning, tell him I want to see more numbers before we decide anything,” he told Evelyn. He turned his attention back to the phone. “Sure, it’s a good cause. Tell Sheila we’ll be there. I’ve really got to go, Liz. See you tonight. I’ll be home late.”
“Okay, bye.”
Liz hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute. Had he really just agreed to be part of the auction? She quickly shot Sheila a text, who sent one back saying she was doing a victory dance and that snotty Piper Sanders was going to shit a brick.
Before she could reply, Ian Mellen called to tell her about his latest epiphany and she found herself trekking across town to his lab where she stayed charting and sketching his latest ideas with him until after ten o’clock that night. By the time she got home, Will was in bed and half asleep. Exhausted herself, she undressed quietly and joined him.
**
The night of the school auction and dinner, Liz and Will had committed to a dinner party at the home of one of the Taggston board members, so they didn’t attend Sheila’s big event. Liz bought a second ticket and gave the pair of them to Angie who went with her latest boyfriend.
After supper, Liz checked her phone in the restroom. Sheila had sent her several texts telling her how shocked the other moms had been at her great find, how Piper Sanders could hardly believe she’d gotten such a Big Important Person to participate in their little school auction, and how she was reveling in the glory of it all. Angie was sending texts commenting on the huge numbers she was seeing on the auction sheet in front of William’s prize, and commenting on how the online auction page was blowing up with people fighting each other to get a crack at coffee with William.
Liz laughed and rejoined the other guests. It was another hour before the party wrapped up and Liz and William said goodbye to their hosts and began the walk back to their apartment. They walked hand in hand along the dark streets, their breath making clouds in front of them as they went.
“So, you’re very popular,” she said after two blocks of comfortable silence.
“What?”
“The auction. Sheila and Angie have been texting me about it all night. So far you’re over twelve thousand dollars.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, stopping and facing her under a street light.
“Sheila’s auction, at her son’s school. Remember?” she said, a horrible feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. “I asked you about it last week, you said sure because it was for a good cause.”
“Auction? Me? I’m sorry, Liz, I’m completely confused. What’s going on?” His voice was firm and had a slight edge to it. He looked at her with his hands in his pockets, waiting for a response.
Liz squared her shoulders, resumed walking, and spoke plainly. “Sheila is on the fundraising committee for Simon’s school. She was desperate for ideas for something to put in the auction. She said the most successful items were lunches or coffee or something with important people. She asked if you would do it and I told her I thought you would hate the idea, but she bugged me so much that I said I would ask, but not to count on it. When I called you, you said sure and that you thought it was for a g
ood cause and to tell Sheila we’d be there. Of course we couldn’t be there because we were already committed to this dinner, but a coffee meeting with you was still on the auction block.”
“I thought she wanted us to buy tickets to the dinner, not sell me at auction!” he exclaimed.
“I didn’t know that! I clearly told you what she wanted, you agreed.”
“I was distracted! I didn’t hear you properly.”
“If you can’t talk, don’t answer your phone!”
“It was you! Of course I answered it! What if it had been something important?”
She smiled and tugged his hand out of his pocket, holding it between both of hers. “I’m really sorry, baby. You can sign me up for an auction next time. I’ll have lunch with whomever you want,” she said playfully, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
He looked at her skeptically. “I don’t know about this, Lizzy. Is there any way to get out of it?”
“I don’t think so. The auction ends in half an hour and Sheila will be completely humiliated if you pull out now. The only way to get out properly would be for me to buy you, and that would sort of defeat the purpose,” she reasoned.
He looked hopeful and asked, “How would that defeat the purpose?”
“Well, they are trying to get more publicity for their fundraising efforts. If it’s widely known that you were part of this one, and if the person who wins tells about it, and everyone sees and hears about it, it might encourage other business people or celebrities or whoever to do the same. The next auction will be more successful. Plus, the winners are published and it would look ridiculous, not to mention be super embarrassing, if it was known that I bought you.”
They walked half a block in silence.
“So, coffee?” he finally said.
“You hate to eat with strangers, so I told her to make it simple. You have coffee with someone, you decide where, and spend one hour with them, no more.” She peeked at him from the side, wondering what he was thinking.
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