“Ooh, monsters are scary!” James chimes in from his stroller.
“Yes, they are, young man. Yes, they are.” Sometimes I wish I could just sit in a stroller and poop in my pants.
Brandon
“Who would like Rob?” Claire appears in the basement in time to chime in.
Zoe drops the mic and runs to greet Aidan. “The bim…neighbor across the street.”
I am going to strangle Zoe with the mic cord if she doesn’t shut her mouth. Goddammit. Okay, that’s not even close to my level of violence, but we are going to have a stern conversation. I won’t allow the purple hair!
Claire looks at me and licks her lips. Smiling she says, “Who wouldn’t like Rob? He’s even bigger than Max, and one amazing specimen of muscle.”
Fine, she can try to make me jealous, but it won’t work.
And if she’s mad about Diamond, wait until I tell her the other thing that happened today.
CHAPTER THREE
Claire
“I must eat the salad, Claire. What a beautiful French name you have.” Didier stabs his lettuce and other colorful, healthy foods, and taps the underside of his chin with the back of his free hand. “If I don’t do this, I will have the face bellies.”
I stare down at my chicken parmesan sub, and feel like a walrus in training. “Face bellies?” I hate lunch meetings. Let me eat in my office in peace.
“Yes, so many Americans have the fat hanging from the neck. Very unpleasant.” He cringes and takes a sip of his vitamin water.
I have never heard a double chin referred to as a ‘face belly,’ but I guess if I wasn’t a native English speaker I may describe it that way. The neck can begin to resemble a large stomach.
My own stomach churns and I lay my sandwich down on the wrapper. For the first time in years my life is anxiety-free enough to enjoy a healthy appetite, and my new boss is a health nut. I need to read that book about how French women stay thin.
Didier Bouchard took over the Acquisitions Manager role, once Pam was appointed CEO last year. He was an external hire, but I can’t blame the HR team, and since our former HR person, Rebecca left Bella Donna to pursue her art around the same time, she hasn’t had the pleasure of working with Didier and hearing his views on American culture. Face bellies? Try not to laugh if your boss says that!
Didier was hand-picked by Pam. They used to work together at another publishing company, and while Didier’s spoken English isn’t perfect, his editing skills are impeccable. He is also amazing at spotting new talent, and therefore perfect for acquisitions. I’ve been in my role as Acquisitions Editor for about two and a half years. I am itching to do something else, but I’m unsure as to where my career is heading.
“So you really don’t know why Pam wants to meet with us? And what does Justin have to do with our department?”
I self-consciously grab my soda, trying to distract Didier and avoid another tongue lashing about American obesity. I am fully prepared to lie and tell him it’s a Diet Coke. But then I’m pretty sure that falls into a whole different category of health lecture.
Apparently, the last name Bouchard in French refers to someone with a big mouth. ‘Bouche’ is mouth in French. No wonder his wife, Dominique, kept her own last name. She barely speaks and her name probably means sleek, perfect and almost invisible. Their little girl, Gigi, is delightful. A tot with a French accent is precious. I can’t wait until Aidan can talk to her, but I suppose when she enters school and mingles with the face belly people, she will lose it.
“Pamela did not say why we meet. But we will be late if we don’t move on it.” He disposes of his trash and points to my half-eaten sandwich. I really want to save it for later, but I relent and let him wrap it up and throw it away. “I must get the cleaner person to come and take away this smelly trash.” He holds his nose and wrinkles his face.
It’s funny how our former CEO was fired for sexual harassment (i.e. seducing staff members and signed authors) and ridiculed fat women, but yet resembled a woman in advanced stages of pregnancy. Now we have a man on staff who is perfectly fit, gorgeous and politically correct, except for his distaste for extra pounds. To his credit, Didier only makes these comments to me and maybe Gina, who was promoted to Editor-in-Chief last year during the big company shake-up.
The real reason for improved management behavior is our new head of HR, Tara. Rebecca’s heart was not into it, and she was fortunate to have the opportunity to quit her job and follow her creative dreams when she moved in with Steve and they got engaged. Just the opposite, Tara is a huge stickler for political correctness and fairness in the workplace, and everyone is on their best behavior. Compliance is her mantra.
We leave Didier’s office and meet up with Justin on the way to our meeting with Pam. She reserved the conference room. For some reason, Pam doesn’t like meeting in her office. It could have something to do with the two Bassett Hounds she hides in there. Well, she doesn’t really hide them. Everyone knows they come to work every day, but she keeps it quiet so that other employees don’t ask to do the same. Dixie and Duncan would get stepped on and cry for food in the cafeteria all day.
“Claire, how are you? You’ve been gone so long.” Justin jogs to catch up to me as I race to keep up with my speedy boss.
I look into his emerald green eyes and smile. “It’s only been since Christmas Eve. You didn’t take any time off?”
“Just Christmas Day and the weekend. I went up to Philly to see my family, but I was ready to get back home. You’ll have to show me some pictures of your heartwarming domestic holidays with the little one. I guess this is the first Christmas he could open his presents.”
“Yep, he was a month old last Christmas.”
We arrive at the conference room and Pam is waiting for us.
“Hi, All! Take a seat. This will be quick. I hope I didn’t freak anybody out with the New Year’s Day e-mail. I just like to keep up on things when we’re all out.” Pam gestures for us to sit around the conference table.
She adjusts her glasses and smiles. Somewhere in her early fifties, Pam is the ultimate professional woman. Her short, stylish blond hair is the perfect complement with her collection of prescription glasses, rotated each day to match her business suit. She always wears pants, which makes her appear even taller than her almost six foot stature.
We all sit and stare at Pam, as we assure her that we weren’t worried about this meeting, even though I thought about it all day yesterday while working in the house. Tatiana came back last night, and we finally got the tree down while Brandon was catching up on his writing.
“So, here’s the news. Two of my favorite kids are going on a trip.” Why is she telling us her kids are going on a trip? Or did she call a meeting to tell us that her dogs are headed to the Bahamas for a winter break?
“Oh, the looks on your faces are priceless.” I wish she would get to the point already. “There’s a publishing conference I just found out about last week, and I was able to secure two tickets. Justin and Claire—you’re going to Key West!” She holds out her arms like a game show hostess telling us what we’ve won.
We all remain silent for a moment and Didier says, “This is good news. No? I can see why this would be good for Claire to scout new talent, but why Justin?” I’m so glad he asked that question because so far it feels like Pam is just doing this to fuck with me.
“Yeah, why me?” Justin scratches his flawless, stubbly chin. No face belly concerns there. “Oh, wait, I know.” He points at Pam and smiles with his ridiculous amount of perfect teeth.
Pam nods and grins like a schoolteacher who just got through to the pretty, dumb student, even though Justin is brilliant. “Yes, we need a new publishing software program. This conference has a whole section devoted to the technical aspects of publishing. It’s supposed to be cutting edge, and I’m counting on you to make a good assessment, selection and deal.” She looks at all of us and says, “So, what do you all think? Exciting, right? Claire?”
>
I shift in my seat and force a corporate smile. “Yes, it sounds like a great opportunity. When is it? Spring?”
“No, that’s the best part. It’s in two weeks! This is prime season in the Keys, and you get to escape this awful cold weather.”
I panic internally and start my list of all the things I will have to do before I leave. Tatiana will be there to take care of Aidan, but that’s part of the problem. Brandon will be alone with Tatiana. And Diamond.
I don’t even know if Tatiana will be sufficient help for him. All she really does is child care, but I suppose she could cook. I have seen no evidence of this skill, but for all I know, she could be bringing him breakfast in bed. Hmm, maybe we need a nanny cam.
Justin and Didier continue to ask questions as my heart rate increases. I hear them say that the conference is the whole week, so we would leave on Monday and come home on Friday.
I envision coming home to piles of laundry, dishes and trash. I had to drag the trash can down to the curb this morning at seven because I knew Brandon would sleep through the scheduled pickup. The can was so heavy, I was dragged down the driveway and almost lost control. And I wear sensible shoes now! I’m sure Tatiana could carry the trash can over her head, like an Olympic weight lifter.
We shuffle out of the conference room as Pam calls out, “Hey, you two—make sure you take lots of pictures for our company Facebook page. I’ll give you my selfie stick—no, I can’t live without that for a week.” She laughs and adds, “I will get you your own.”
We all thank Pam and shuffle out of the conference room. Didier excuses himself to a meeting with Gina, and Justin and I are left alone to ponder our upcoming adventure.
We stand outside the elevators, and before Justin punches the button to go upstairs, he says, “Wow. Me and you on a trip. It’s like a late Christmas present. I was very good this year.”
I raise my eyebrows and he continues. “Claire, I’m teasing you. I thought marriage and motherhood restored your sense of humor.”
I sigh and lean against the wall next to the elevator, clutching my notebook to my chest. “It has. I’m just thinking of all the ways this is going to make my home life difficult.”
“Brandon won’t be upset, right? He’s a great dad, and he’s got a flex schedule. Plus you’ve got that robust Russian nanny.”
“You’ve never seen Tatiana.”
“Yes, I have. On your Facebook page, holding the baby.”
“That’s right. Facebook. I think there is something to be said for privacy.”
“Yep, we’re going on a private trip.” He laughs and touches my arm, saying quietly, “Claire, we’ll have a great time. You know I accept our friendship, but teasing you is irresistible. You’re a married woman now and I respect that. But because of that, we can’t really do ‘friends stuff.’ So this will be cool to hang out and call it work.”
I smile and relent. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m overreacting. And Brandon is so busy with all of his stuff, he won’t care. And I have plenty of help. My mother will surely swoop in to pick up any slack. She adores her grandson.”
Justin seems pleased with my improved attitude, says goodbye, and disappears into the elevator, leaving me standing in the same spot.
Is Brandon going to be okay with this? Yes, he’ll be fine with the support system in place. And as for the Justin issue, Brandon is not the least bit jealous. Not anymore. After Brandon and I started dating, there was a period where Brandon still viewed Justin as a rival, but that’s changed. This trip is just the thing I need to take my mind off all of the preposterous fears that run through my head.
Brandon
If Claire were here she would jump on Tatiana’s back like a spider monkey attacking a gorilla. She wouldn’t win, but it would be a horrifying sight.
I jump up in bed, pulling the covers up to my chest like a woman. She scared the shit out of me. “Tatiana, you need to knock before coming in here, and I really don’t need all this food.”
She smiles like a she-devil and says, “You need strength. Wife leave so early. No food for man.”
She pouts and I take in her outfit. She’s wearing a white button down men’s shirt—NOT mine—and a black bra and underwear. I know this because the shirt is only buttoned in the middle. I rub my face vigorously and take another look. Nope, still a half-naked Russian nanny serving me breakfast in bed.
“She has to go to work.” Why I am reasoning with this…person? She isn’t leaving, so I motion for her to put the tray down on the dresser.
“You no want to eat in bed?”
“No, not in bed,” I say more forcefully than intended. Unfortunately this is not the first time she has pulled a stunt like this, and it’s getting tiresome. I should tell Claire, but Tatiana is good with Aidan, and now that I’m used to the help I can’t imagine trying to work without someone here. I just wish that someone would stay fully clothed and out of my way.
“Okay, I leave tray here.” I have this sneaking suspicion that she really speaks perfect English, and she lays the accent and broken English on heavier because she thinks it’s more alluring to American men. Plus when she’s guilty she can pretend she doesn’t understand. What a whack-job. I mean, she is hot in a way, so she doesn’t need the act, but she’s not my type, even if I wasn’t happily married. I glance at my wedding ring and stare at Tatiana until she scurries out the door.
I should have told her to put some clothes on, but that would only give her the attention she’s seeking. I’d rather pretend she is properly dressed and I didn’t even notice her feeble attempt to seduce me.
I stare at the bedside clock. It’s already ten. I do need to start getting up earlier, but I was working on a particularly tough scene in my latest work-in-progress last night, and I wanted to get through it. Claire was already asleep when I got in bed.
Tatiana’s antics would cause her to have a stroke for sure, but she will be far more upset emotionally when she reads her e-mail. She loves me, but she adores Aidan. She fought me on the open adoption thing, but finally relented when it seemed necessary in order to find an adoptable infant right away. Most mothers are looking for this arrangement nowadays, and if the adoptive parents are unwilling to go along with it, there are dozens more infertile couples lined up who’ll accept their terms.
Aidan’s birth mother has not exercised her right to see him since she surrendered him at the hospital. We have sent her pictures. Well, I have. Claire tries to pretend she doesn’t exist. She doesn’t do it to be nasty. She’s just terrified that Aidan will become confused or his birth mother will change her mind and try to take him away from us. I understand how she feels, but that’s not going to happen, and even if she tried, we would win the battle. Chastity is in no position to care for a child.
I thought Chastity had decided to let the visitation clause of our agreement go, but now she’s e-mailed me asking if she can see Aidan. I was trying to figure out how to break this news to Claire, and then I noticed she copied Claire on the e-mail.
Claire obviously hasn’t checked her personal e-mail in a few days. She does a lot of texting with her friends, but with her work e-mail and all of her responsibilities, she doesn’t usually respond to her personal e-mail in a timely manner. But she will eventually, so it’s a ticking time bomb waiting to blow. We legally can’t deny Chastity’s request, but Claire is going to blame me for this.
I grab my phone and check for messages. The guys want to come over tonight to work on a new song. Jon has an idea. That should be interesting. My sister called this morning. That’s weird, maybe she was on her way to work. I decide to call her back before getting up and dealing with Tatiana, and Aidan will want to play before I can go downstairs and get any work done.
“Hey, Col, what’s up?”
“Hey, are you just waking up, you bum?” Colleen sounds like our mother. Or Claire. Women in general. Except Russian nannies. That’s how they lure you in. A month with Tatiana and she would be ordering me around like the
KGB.
“Yes, I was up quite late last night working. Not everyone has the same schedule, little sis.”
She laughs and says, “Yeah, I just love to mess with you. So how’s Claire? Aidan?”
“They’re fine.” I go on to explain my latest dilemma. The one about Aidan’s mother, not the naughty nanny.
“You have to tell her before she sees that e-mail, Brandon. What is wrong with you? She’ll know you saw it.”
“I know. Don’t screech at me. Jeez.” I can’t wait to hide downstairs tonight with the guys. They never tell me I have to do anything except get more beer or adjust the sound on their instruments. And Zoe has already given me my lecture of the week.
“I’m going to tell her tonight. We have to set something up. It’s Claire’s choice whether or not she wants to be here, but she should learn to deal with this. How the hell are we going to adopt another baby from yet another mother? We should probably decline and let the mother find another couple.”
“Yeah, I don’t see how you think you’re ready. You guys are moving too fast. It makes me sleepy just thinking about it.”
“So what’s going on with you? You called early.”
She hesitates and says, “Yeah. My job is in jeopardy. The gallery isn’t doing well, and the owner held a meeting this morning to tell us that we may not have jobs in another six months or so.”
“That sucks, but aren’t there a million galleries and museums in the DC area? There has to be other jobs.”
“There are, but none of them are hiring. High-end art isn’t selling as well as it used to. I probably shouldn’t have left the museum, but I thought I could make a bunch of money on commissions at the gallery. Plus my apartment is so expensive, and I don’t like to take any help from Mom and Dad.”
I admire my sister’s independent spirit, but I don’t want to see her struggle. “You should move down here. The cost of living is so much less. And the arts scene is big in Richmond. The college has a great arts program and we have a highly regarded art museum. Claire’s friend, Rebecca is well connected in the art circles here, too. Just something to think about.”
The Juggling Act Page 3
