The next morning, Lauren was just putting the coffee on when Philomena walked into the kitchen. The older woman looked tired, with dark shadows under her blue eyes. Eyes that reminded Lauren of Sam.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully, determined to put that man out of her mind. "It looks like it's going to be another beautiful day."
Philomena blinked at her. "It sounds like you're feeling better this morning."
"Much." Lauren opened a cupboard door and replaced the coffee can on the shelf. Then she picked up the newspaper off the counter and pulled off the rubber band. "Do you want a section?"
"Maybe later." Philomena sat down at the kitchen table. "What happened to bring about this good mood? You seemed pretty down last night."
Lauren's cheeks grew warm when she remembered how pathetic she'd acted in front of her new roommate. "Nothing happened. I just decided I wasn't going to waste any more time going over every moment of my date last night. Or trying to figure out what was wrong with me."
"Maybe it wasn't you," Philomena interjected. "Did you ever stop to think that Sam might be the one with the problem?"
"Well … no." Lauren took a seat at the table, laying the newspaper in front of her. "And that's exactly my point. Every time something like this happens, I spend days, or even weeks, endlessly analyzing the relationship. Going over every moment in my mind and looking for the slightest nuance that might explain his behavior. But not anymore."
"So you're over Sam?"
"Completely," Lauren exclaimed, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded. "Besides, it's not like he's ever going to call me again."
Philomena cocked her head to one side, her gaze a little too assessing for Lauren's comfort. "And how can you be so sure about that?"
"If you'd seen the way he acted last night, you'd be sure too," she replied, unable to keep the note of dejection out of her voice. Then she forced a smile. "So I've decided to forget about romance and take on a new project."
"Great idea. What is it?"
"You."
Philomena stared blankly at her. "I'm not sure I understand."
"It hit me last night how selfish I've been. Here I was, feeling sorry for myself, when you're the one going though such a tough transition. I remember how difficult it was in the first months after my divorce. I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around."
Philomena shook her head. "I don't need comforting. I'm fine. Really. I wanted the divorce. I've decided marriage isn't for me."
"That's just your pain talking," Lauren said gently. "I was the same way. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and make the world go away."
"No, it's really me talking," Philomena insisted. "I'm perfectly content with my life just the way it is."
"You think that now, but once you get out and start experiencing life again, you'll feel differently."
Philomena looked wary. "What exactly do you mean by 'experiencing life.'"
"Well, I have a few surprises planned. My first one is a trip to my friend Becky's clinic for some therapy."
"I don't need a shrink," Philomena replied, growing more agitated by the moment. "I'll admit I've had a few … identity conflicts recently, but that's perfectly normal for a person in my situation."
"Becky's not a shrink, she's a yoga instructor. She works at the Healing Arts clinic downtown.
"Oh." Philomena's brow furrowed. "Is yoga the exercise where you do a lot of humming?"
She smiled at the skepticism she saw on her protégée's face. "It's a combination of stretching exercises and meditation. Humming is optional."
"I think I can probably handle that," Philomena said grudgingly. "But you don't need to worry about me, Lauren. I'll be just fine."
"I know you will," she said, rising out of the chair to pour each of them a cup of coffee. "And keep up that positive attitude. That's the best way to start building your brand-new life."
"What about you?"
She turned and walked back to the table, two cups of steaming coffee in her hands. "What about me?"
"What do you want out of your life?"
She set down the coffee cups. "Well, you know I'd like to be a teacher."
"Is that all?"
She sat down. "That's seems like enough of a challenge at the moment. I've got three years of college still ahead of me, and that's only if I can keep going full-time. I'll be almost thirty when I finally get my degree."
"What made you decide to go back to school?"
"I never wanted to leave," she admitted, picking up her cup and blowing on the steaming brew. "But after Chuck and I got married, finances were tight. Really tight. So he suggested that one of us quit college and go to work full time."
Philomena's mouth thinned. "Did he also suggest you be the one to do it?"
"It made sense at the time. A lawyer makes quite a bit more money than a teacher. The plan was that I would work until he graduated from law school, then he would support us until I got my teaching degree."
"But it didn't work out that way."
"No." Lauren's gaze dropped to her coffee cup, waiting for the old, familiar pain. But she felt fine. Normal. Was she truly over him? "Chuck found a new study partner. A blonde with big brown eyes and plenty of free time."
"He cheated on you?"
She nodded, then took a sip of her coffee. "At least our marriage ended before we had children."
"I don't think that makes him any less of a jerk."
"That seems to be the type of man I attract." She saw Philomena wince and instantly regretted her words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that your cousin is an asshole."
"I suppose I couldn't blame you if you did."
"Let's not talk about men," Lauren said, more than ready to change the subject.
"Good idea." Philomena stood up and rubbed her hands together. "I'm going to make you the best breakfast ever. How does a Spanish omelette with crispy hash browns sound?"
"Fattening, but delicious."
"Good. We've got to have some incentive to do that yoga thing." Then Philomena turned to the refrigerator and began pulling out an armful of ingredients.
Lauren's eyes widened. "Where did all that food come from?"
"I picked up a few more things at the grocery store yesterday afternoon while you were at class."
"I can't let you buy me food." She got up to retrieve her checkbook, hoping she had enough in her account to cover her share. "I'll pay for half."
"Absolutely not." Philomena's firm tone brooked no argument. "It's the least I can do after all you've done for me."
"But you're already paying half the rent and utilities."
Philomena turned to look at her. "Let me do this, Lauren. Please."
Lauren's pride battled with her stomach. Then her stomach growled, making the decision for her. "All right," she conceded, "you win. This time, anyway."
"You won't regret it," Philomena promised, as she pulled a skillet out of the cupboard.
Lauren smiled. "Hey, maybe that's why Sam lost interest in me so fast last night. I ate so much, it probably scared him."
Philomena turned. "I thought you weren't going to analyze your date."
"You're right. Thanks for reminding me."
Philomena looked around the kitchen. "Spatula?"
"In the drawer by the sink," Lauren replied as the doorbell rang. She got up and walked out of the kitchen, humming softly under her breath as she walked to the door. There was something about Philomena that made her feel good about herself.
But that feeling faded when she opened the door and saw her ex-husband standing on the other side. He didn't look happy.
"Chuck." Lauren ran a hand through her disheveled hair. "What are you doing here so early?"
"We need to talk," Chuck replied briskly, then walked inside without waiting for an invitation.
Lauren opened her mouth to call him on it, then closed it again. She didn't want to start her day off with an argument. Especially since Chuck was always so good at getting i
n the last word.
He sat down on the sofa, his mouth set in a firm line.
She closed the door, then took a seat opposite him in the rocking chair. "Well?"
"Is that coffee I smell?"
"Yes, it is. But I only made enough for me and Philomena."
"So I take it she's moved in here already?"
Lauren nodded. "Over a week ago."
Chuck leaned back against the sofa. "Isn't that a little sudden? I mean, you two are practically strangers. What do you even know about the woman?"
"She's very nice."
Chuck snorted. "I'm sure a lot of people thought Lizzie Borden was nice, too."
"Philomena doesn't own an ax, if that makes you feel any better."
"It doesn't." Chuck sat up again, clearly agitated. "I want to know about this mysterious date of yours."
Lauren stared at him, wondering if he'd been this overbearing when they were married. Had she been too blinded by love to see it? Or too young to chafe at his high-handed manner like she did now? "That's really none of your business, Chuck."
His nostrils flared. "Just because we're divorced doesn't mean I don't care about you anymore."
"Actually, that's exactly what it means."
He shook his head. "What happened to you, Lauren? You used to be so…"
"Meek?" She guessed with a wry smile. "Gullible? Trusting?"
"Yes. You still are," he waved his hand around her Spartan apartment, "no matter how many changes you make in your life. That's why I want to know something about this man you're dating. I don't want anyone to take advantage of you."
"His name is Sam Kane," she said, hoping the information would hasten his exit. "We had dinner at Lucia's. The maitre d's name is Carter if you want to check out my story."
"Sam Kane," Chuck mused, a scowl forming on his brow. "Can't say the name sounds familiar."
"Hardly surprising in a city of almost four hundred thousand people."
"So how did you meet him?"
"He's Philomena's cousin."
Chuck smiled. "So she set you up. This was just a blind date."
"Yes, it was a setup." Lauren said, wondering why she was bothering to explain. "I'd met Sam the day Philomena moved in and I liked him. I liked him a lot. So I asked her to arrange a date between us."
His smile faded. "That doesn't sound like you."
"I know," she said proudly. "That's another change I'm making in my life. A change for the better." Then she stood up to prove it to him. "Thanks for stopping by. I'm sure you have to get going."
He hesitated clearly surprised by her none-too-subtle suggestion that he leave. She opened the door just to make certain he got the message.
But before he left, he turned and put his hand over the one she had braced on the door frame. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night."
Lauren pulled her hand away, then saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. Philomena stood poised just inside the living room, a spatula in her hand.
"Good morning, Philomena," Chuck called, giving her a polite nod. "I just stopped by to see my favorite girl."
"Lauren's breakfast is getting cold," Philomena said bluntly.
"I'll be there in a minute," Lauren promised, then turned back to Chuck. "As for dinner…"
"Don't give me an answer yet," he said quickly, obviously seeing her refusal in her eyes. "Just promise me you'll think about it. I'll call you later tonight."
"I'm not sure I'll be here."
"Why?" Chuck asked, narrowing his eyes. "Don't tell me you have another date with that Kane fellow."
"Okay, I won't," she said, then smiled. "In fact, I'm not telling you anything anymore. Bye."
She closed the door, but not before seeing the astonished expression on his face. Then she took a deep breath, a little astonished herself.
She'd finally gotten the last word.
* * *
10
« ^ »
Sam lay on his back with his legs sticking straight up in the air. Becky's yoga class was the biggest challenge he'd faced yet as a woman. But Lauren had been so enthusiastic about helping Philomena experience life again that he just didn't have the heart to say no. They'd been shopping together, attended a seminar on self-defense for women, and been reading passages out of a new book called How To Jump-Start Your Love Life, among other things.
Sam might not be crazy about all of his new activities, but he was definitely becoming crazy about Lauren. He couldn't remember when he'd spent so much time with a woman he wasn't romantically involved with. Maybe he never had. It was an enlightening experience.
"Now take a deep breath," Becky instructed. "Close your eyes and think of a place that makes you feel special. That's it … now exhale … inhale … relax."
His wig had shifted slightly, the synthetic hair tickling his nose. Sam turned his head far enough to look at the clock on the wall. Forty-five minutes down, fifteen more to go. He wore a baggy gray sweatshirt and matching pants, having turned down the skintight leotard that Lauren had dug out of her closet. He had a hard enough time keeping his breasts on straight without a revealing every nook and cranny of his fake figure.
His gaze strayed to the right, where Lauren lay stretched out beside him, and he found himself wishing she'd chosen sweats as well. The black leotard she wore hugged her body in a way that made sweat break out on his forehead. Her long, slender legs were encased in black tights and pointed gracefully toward the ceiling. He closed his eyes, imagining those legs wrapped around him.
"It's your turn, Philomena," Becky called out.
His eyes flew open. "What?"
"Share your special place with us. I could tell by the expression on your face that it was a place that brings you pleasure."
That would be an understatement. He scrambled for something to say. "A Steelers game. The old Three Rivers Stadium. Hot dogs. Beer. Ecstasy."
The women in the room laughed, then a lively discussion began about which teams had the sexiest men.
Lauren turned toward him. "So you like football, Philomena?"
"I love it. In fact I used to play … tapes of my favorite teams over and over again," he said, catching himself just in time.
"How about Sam? Is he a big fan of the Steelers, too?"
It was the first time she'd mentioned his name all week. "The biggest."
"Ladies." Becky held up her hands to silence the chatter filling the room. "Let's remember we're here to generate peace and harmony in our lives. To celebrate what it means to be a woman."
"My feet are numb," Sam said, tired of celebrating.
Lauren sat up. "Mine, too."
Becky clapped her hands together. "All right, ladies, let's move to the lotus position. Legs crossed, back straight, hands open to receive the energy emanating all around us."
Sam felt his pager vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. He stood up, surreptitiously adjusting his wig at the same time. "Will you please excuse me for a moment?"
Becky nodded toward him, placing a finger to her lips to indicate he should leave quietly.
Lauren looked up. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," he whispered. "I'll be right back."
He maneuvered his way around the three rows of women in the room, then walked out into the foyer. Pulling his pager out of his pocket, he saw a familiar number blinking at him. Travis.
Moving toward the pay phone, he patted the pockets of his sweatpants, relieved to find a stray quarter. He dropped it in the coin slot, then dialed Travis's number.
Travis answered the telephone on the second ring. "Hello?"
"Hi, Travis. You called?"
Silence carried over the line. "Who is this?"
Too late Sam realized he was still speaking in his Philomena voice. He glanced toward the open door, then turned and spoke softly into the phone using his normal voice. "It's me. Sam. I was just fooling around."
"Hey, Sam. You got my page?"
"Sure did. What's up?"
"Nothi
n'." But the boy's tone told a different story.
"Aren't you supposed to be in school today?"
"Nope."
The one-word answers were another indication that something wasn't right. "Is it some kind of school holiday?"
"Not exactly," Travis hedged.
"Then what exactly?" Sam asked, casting another glance toward the door. "Come on, Trav. You know you can tell me anything."
"I just decided not to go today. School is boring."
Sam's heart lurched. He could tell from the dejection he heard in the boy's voice that there was more to the story.
Movement from inside the classroom caught his attention. He heard the sound of laughter and sensed the yoga session was coming to an end. "Listen, Trav, since you took the day off, why don't you meet me at the hot-dog stand on your corner for lunch. My treat."
"Cool."
Sam tensed as a shadow spilled over the doorway. He didn't have much time left. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Okay. Bye, Sam."
He hung up the receiver a moment before as Lauren walked out of the classroom, a gym bag slung over her shoulder.
"Ready for lunch?" she asked, giving him a smile that warmed him from the inside out.
He cleared his throat, slipping back into his Philomena persona again. "I'm going to have to take a rain check. I already have a date."
Lauren's face brightened. "That's wonderful! What's his name?"
"Travis. But it's not that kind of date. He's only eleven years old."
"Shouldn't he be in school?" she asked, echoing the same question Sam had asked.
"Yes. It seems he got into some trouble. That's why I want to talk to him about. See if I can help out."
"How do you know him?"
"He lived in my old neighborhood. Sort of, in my neighborhood, and we got to be pals."
Lauren smiled up at him. "And shared a few hot dogs at a Steelers game?"
Sam stopped walking, dazzled by her smile. "More than a few."
Lauren looked thoughtful. "I haven't been to a game in a long time. It sounds like fun."
"I'd better go," Sam said, knowing he didn't have much time to change out of his Philomena costume.
"Okay. I'll see you later."
Sam watched her walk away and wondered if his life could possibly get anymore complicated. He spent his days with Lauren pretending to be a woman and his nights in her apartment trying to forget he was a man. And he'd neglected Travis and now the kid was in some kind of trouble.
OPERATION BABE-MAGNET / OPERATION BEAUTY Page 20
