by Zoey Kane
ZOEY’S STORY
By Zoey and Claire Kane
www.breezyreads.com
Published by Breezy Reads, Copyright 2017
About this book:
Everything changed for Zoey Kane the day a blonde in a flamingo-pink Cadillac pulled up to her house, whisking away her husband to the tune of Cindy Lauper. It’s now eleven years later, and Roger Kane is touring the United States with his sugar momma in their brand-new RV. With Zoey and her daughter Claire’s town on their stop list, it’s time for an epic reunion. Everyone’s in for a series of emotional surprises in this short-story romp.
When Zoey pulled up to her old residence, one fateful spring day, she wasn’t too surprised to see Louise Marchant’s pink Cadillac sitting out front. No, Louise wasn’t a Mary Kay consultant. She simply loved the color, opting for a custom paint job. And that shimmering flamingo-pink ride had been seen outside Zoey’s home more than a few times in recent months.
Louise went to the same gym as Zoey’s husband Roger, and with that excuse had been known to drop by some “offerings” to the family. She’d heard how bad off they were. Sometimes it was bread. Not the cheap Wonder Bread kind. No, Louise got her bread from a posh bakery, where they handmade any combination one could think up. Once it was a cinnamon-raisin swirl with buttercream frosting, another time it was a cheesy focaccia with jalapenos. Roger liked the jalapeno kind the most. She could afford the fanciest of anything, down to whatever magical skin cream she must have used to keep her looking so young. The woman was fifteen years Zoey’s senior, but looked maybe thirty-five years old at the most.
Zoey stepped out of her dented brown-as-poo sedan in some trendy knock-off heels. One thing her mother taught her was you didn’t need a lot of money to look good. If a woman knew how to style her hair just right and apply makeup, then a T-shirt and jeans can suddenly look glam. She smoothed her strawberry-blond hair that was long and curled at the ends, and headed to the front door. Louise glanced at her through the car window and gave a small wave. Zoey waved back just as a toy poodle pawed at the passenger side window, yipping like a mad dog.
Inside, Zoey kicked her shoes off at their tiny carpeted entryway. The scent of Old Spice cologne drifted strongly in the air. A commotion of sorts was coming from the back bedroom, the master bedroom. Claire met her mom in the hallway, putting up a hand to stop her. Her big brown eyes were filled with sadness, although just moist, no tears.
“What’s the matter?” Zoey asked, her own light brown eyes going wide.
Barely above a whisper, Claire said, “Dad’s packing.”
“Packing?” Zoey didn’t whisper. She stuttered, “What for?”
Now tears formed, a couple spilling from Claire’s eyes in big drops. Zoey wrapped her arms tight around her fourteen-year-old daughter, squeezing her. Moments later, Roger was snapping a couple big suitcases closed while Zoey tugged on his arm, begging him not to do this.
At the entryway, Roger still clinging to the handles of his baggage tight, he said with sort of a kind pity in his eyes, “I have to, Zoey. I can’t live like this anymore. I’ve been saying for a year now that you need a different job. You wouldn’t listen to me.”
“What do you mean?” Zoey asked, her voice getting louder. “I did get another job. I work at the diner every afternoon!”
Roger shook his head, his brown wavy hair stiff with gel. “Yes, now you have two jobs. You wouldn’t let the real estate thing go. And now we have even less time together. What do you expect me to do?” he asked. “Make dinner every night alone for me and Claire?”
Zoey flashed her wet eyes over to her daughter, who was sitting rigid on the old couch, tears falling down her quiet cheeks. With a growl of anger, Zoey punched Roger’s bicep, knowing it didn’t hurt him in the least, even though she wanted it to. Like a marshmallow against a brick. His dark eyes simply flinched, again with that look of pity. “You’re not a man, Roger Kane,” she said. “You you could have gotten a job!”
“With my hurt back?” He gave a soft chuckle while muscling the suitcases up under his armpits without a thought. “Yeah, sure…”
“Fine,” Zoey burst, her eyes flaring in a rage. “Just go then. Leave your family behind for-for Louise. She’ll take great care of you! Just get out!”
He did. The door still ajar, Zoey crumpled to the ground, sobbing. Claire came right over to her mother, hugging and rocking her. The sound of the Cadillac’s trunk closing was followed by the passenger door opening. The poodle yipped to the blare of Cindy Lauper. “It’s done,” Roger said.
“It’s okay,” Claire said, kissing her mother’s head. “You’ve got me.”
*
Louise entered The Homestyle Buffet, waving at Zoey and Claire across the way. Her face was a pale orange from a bad spray tan, her cheeks too full and her skin too tight. Her long blond hair was now cut to her shoulders looking very shiny. Zoey could spot the wig miles away. Dressed in pink, from her blazer to her heels, what was most interesting about Louise was the cane she gripped, looking golden gilded, the top capped off with a fake humongous diamond.
Zoey’s eyes drifted to the man holding up one of Louise’s elbows, helping her hobble along. It was Roger. The same man who had left eleven years ago. Yes, she had seen Roger and Louise a couple times since then. Once at Claire’s Sweet 16 birthday party and another time at her high school graduation. Back when Roger was with Zoey, he wore sensible, rugged attire, consisting of checkered dress shirts and dark blue jeans. Now, Roger was wearing a white sports jacket over a salmon colored V-neck. The only thing really making him look like Roger was his thick head of wavy dark brown hair, the color matching Claire’s. And those friendly brown eyes, which were now creased at the corners as he smiled. Zoey was sad to find out that his hair hadn’t receded 1 centimeter! Fate was not doing its justice, there.
Claire, being the mature and good person she was, met them halfway across the foyer. She wrapped her slender arms around her father’s neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She leaned down and also gave a peck to Louise, which was fine with Zoey. Her daughter always had impeccable manners, something she attributed to herself. Upon Roger and Louise meeting Zoey at the cash register, Zoey also gave them quick hugs, which were really nothing more than stiff pats on the back.
“How long has it been?” Louise asked with a scratchy voice. “It feels like forever, Zoey!”
Zoey nodded. “About seven years.”
“Well, it’s so good to see you,” Louise cooed.
Roger was shaking his head up and down vigorously, his smile a little too big. Zoey wondered if his teeth were capped. They were starting to look like the chompers from that green Jim Carrey character in The Mask.
Louise said to Roger, “Can you get my wallet out of my purse? Breakfast is on me,” she proclaimed. Zoey was about to protest but knew it wouldn’t be worth it. The woman was always looking for someone to be her charity case, whether or not they needed it. A hostess brought them to a nearby table, Zoey having walked behind the three slowly due to Louise’s condition.
Upon grabbing their food at the buffet, and sitting down with one another, all four of them ate in a moment of awkward silence. Roger broke the ice, asking Claire about her current work status. “It was so fun visiting you in New York. Why would you ever move away from that area? And what are you doing now for a job?”
Claire shared an uncomfortable glance with her mother. “Dad, I’m working with Mom now. I’m happy to be here in Riverside. It really is such a pretty area.”
“Working with Mom now? What does that mean? Zoey, have you got her into real estate with you? You know that’s never been a lucrative business.” He salted h
is eggs and hammered on the pepper with a shake of his head.
“Dad, it’s not like that,” Claire said. “I am really happy now. You’ll just have to take my word for it.” She took a sip of her water and blotted her red lipstick.
“Yes, Roger, we’re doing just fine.” Zoey nodded and patted her daughter on the back.
Louise had a certain skeptical look in her green eyes as she chewed her toast slowly.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Dad,” Claire assured, tucking some dark hair behind an ear, showing off a glittery gold hoop. Zoey took a moment to gaze at her daughter, her pretty profile, her simply classic and elegant style. The black blouse and black pants that emphasized her jewelry and face, more than anything else.
Zoey was happy that she herself had dressed impeccably for this morning’s meeting. Her strawberry blonde hair was still long and beautiful for being in her fifties. That’s because she took great care of it, making sure not to over wash it or use excessive heat. In fact, Zoey avoided blow dryers altogether. She opted to air dry her hair in rollers, giving supple waves. She was also pleased with the red blouse she chose, offsetting her pretty hair color. It was no mystery, the color came out of a bottle, but it always had ever since she was twenty years old.
“What is there to do around here?” questioned Louise. “I can imagine you too can get very bored out here. All these wide-open spaces. All these quaint but really old homes scattered about. I would just die of boredom!” Louise smiled with a croaky sort of light chuckle, as if that would make up for the comments.
Roger agreed. “It just isn’t right. Someone like you, Zoey, to be living in an area like this? We met at West Beverly High of all places. Remember that? You were prom queen. Although, I don’t know why you ever went to the dance with Johnny instead of me.”
Louise narrowed her eyes, as if her jealousy was wondering where this conversation would lead. Zoey understood. Reminiscing was not something proper at a moment like this. But if it could be concealed in a little teasing, maybe...
“I didn’t even know who you were, Roger.” Zoey had a matter-of-fact look across her face. “I had no idea you were secretly stalking me until after high school, when you literally bumped into me at The Burger and Brew with binoculars around your neck.”
Louise looked up at him with concern.
“But that’s ancient history,” Zoey said. “I don’t like to think about it. Life out here really is not that bad, Roger. I know you are used to luxury. Except for when we were married.” Zoey felt her daughter’s eyes on her, as if that had crossed the line. Zoey changed the subject, clearing her throat. “Anyway, how are you two doing? What’s new?” She looked at Louise with a pleasant smile, wanting to truly appear interested.
“Oh, you know, traveling… the world!” Louise said, setting her fork down. “Yes, we went to the Bahamas just last winter, followed by an Alaskan cruise in the spring. And now that it’s summertime, we thought we’d take out our brand-new RV and visit every single state. Indiana was of course on the list, so how can we pass up this opportunity to meet up once again? Especially for Claire.”
“Yes, especially for Claire,” Zoey repeated.
Roger and Louise continued bragging about their amazing adventures and lifestyle. Finally, Roger asked Claire more questions, such as why she wasn’t married yet, when was she moving back to New York, and if she felt her biological clock ticking for having children. It was all so very awkward, but Zoey’s daughter was a trooper, doing an amazing job at answering each question.
When Roger started rubbing his stomach and their plates were empty around the table, he said to the group, “Well, I have a surprise for you, Claire. We would like to stay longer than this little meeting here. We were wondering what you’d think of us spending the night.” Before either Zoey or Claire could respond he added, “Of course, if your place isn’t accommodating for two more people, plus our cat Snookums, we understand, Zoey. We would be more than comfortable to park out front and sleep in our recreational vehicle.”
Zoey actually liked the idea of them spending the night. Roger had no clue about her current lifestyle. He never asked. She guessed he still imagined her to be living in a dilapidated flat-top house, with a shaggy old carpet, and linoleum that bubbled and peeled in different spots. “I’m sure I can make room for you two somewhere in my little abode,” Zoey said happily. “And I know Claire would love to have more deep conversations with her father.”
Roger puffed his chest out with some pride and raised his eyebrows. “Yes, she would.” Claire, on the other hand, simply nodded. It was that polite thing again.
*
Out on the sidewalk, the four facing the parking lot, Roger asked, “So which one is yours? What car will we be following, Zoey?”
Zoey cast her eyes about and couldn’t miss the RV glistening in the distance like a pearl, all white except for the golden trim. “I’m just in that little red thing over there.” She pointed with a manicured nail. “The one with the slanted L logo on the back.”
“Oh,” Louise croaked. “Well, isn’t that something? You must have saved for years for that thing. Or did you lease it? Don’t tell me you leased it. Leasing is such a terrible financial choice.”
Zoey feigned ignorance. “It is? Oh dear. Well, we better get a move on. We have the rest of the day for fun!”
Once in the car, Claire smirked. “Mother, you are so bad. But I love it. Don’t ever change.”
The shiny red Lexus, not more than a few months old, pulled up to the Kanes’ magnificent mansion manor they called Hillgate. The weather coordinated perfectly for such a time like this. There were no clouds in the sky, just a soft breeze that lightly played with a few of the old gorgeous trees that framed the estate. Its white paint job gleamed along with the huge front door’s brass knocker.
Zoey and Claire both cast glances into the rearview mirror, wanting to see the faces of Roger and Louise at this very moment. Through the large front windshield of the RV, Roger’s jaw was seen dropped nearly to the ground. Louise, beside him, was babbling something really fast. They parked at the side lot and Roger went around the RV to get Louise down safely.
All four of them now stood in front of Hillgate Manor. Louise burst, “What is this? A hotel you’re bringing us to? Is it true, Zoey, that you are in fact homeless right now?”
The front door opened and out stepped a regal older gentleman with white hair matching his white gloves. “Ms. Kanes,” he said. “Welcome home. I see you brought guests.” It was Max, their foreman.
“This is your home?” Roger asked, stuttering. “Your home?”
“Yes,” she answered. Zoey then walked in her red high heels toward Max with a large smile across her pink lips. “Max, this is Roger Kane and his wife Louise. Claire’s father and stepmother. You will show them the same respect you show me. Anything they want or need, is theirs. They are spending the night here. Make sure one of the twenty bedrooms is ready with extra pillows and their own mini refrigerator.” She said all of this loud enough for her guests to hear.
Roger and Louise stepped inside the estate in wonder, onto the shiny wood floors of the grand foyer where a chandelier glistened from high above and a mahogany staircase unwrapped itself to a third level. There was dead silence before murmuring.
Claire stepped aside with her mother and said quietly, “This is great.”
“So, Zoey, this is really yours?” Roger said.
Zoey nodded again. “Yes, yes. This is not a hotel. Although I did have it as one for a short while. Claire and I are done with that venture.”
“And how did you guys, you know, get the money to buy this place?” he asked, astonished.
Claire was the one who wanted to answer this one. “In real estate.”
“Really?” he said. His face was turning paler, and for a moment it looked like he needed to sit down.
“Ouch!” Louise barked, jabbing her cane against Roger’s patent leather shoe. “You stepped on me, fool!”
Her face scrunched up as best as it could despite the Botox.
“I’m sorry. I’m just surprised Zoey’s home is bigger than ours,” he sputtered. “It has twenty bedrooms; did you hear?”
“Twenty-three,” Claire corrected. “It’s twenty guest bedrooms that we have.”
“Why I’ll be…”
Max asked for Roger’s suit jacket and Louise’s blazer. They both handed them over, looking absolutely shocked, their eyes wide.
“I hope this will be enough to accommodate you,” Zoey said with an innocent smile. She was chuckling inside. This was better than any revenge she could’ve ever gotten on the man who was a gold digger.
Flustered, Roger just sort of nodded.
Louise commanded Roger, “Catch me, I’m going to faint!” And just like that, the woman fell back rigid like a post. Roger hadn’t noticed until after the thud.
“Oh!” Roger said. He dropped to his knees.
A couple barks sounded, followed by the pattering of paws running to the foyer. Two Doberman greeted them: Gunner, with a spike collar, and Bond, in a bowtie. They were beautiful, sleek and very well behaved. Zoey snapped and told him to sit in German, and they listened. Then she knelt beside them and kissed them, saying they were good boys.
Louise came to, still sitting on the dark wood flooring. Roger was holding up her back. She wiped back some of her blond hair and with a dazed look across her green eyes said, “Where are we?”
“This is Zoey’s home,” Roger reminded.
Louise fainted again.
*
It took some time, but it seemed that Roger and Louise came to some sense of acceptance over the fact that Zoey was indeed obscenely rich. For a while Louise was even asking Zoey about the cleaning and the decorating of the estate, along with wondering how many employees there were. Zoey was happy to answer. She had a foreman and a couple of part-time maids was all. Louise even asked if Snookums could come inside and get situated. The cat was brought in, having fluffy white fur, a diamond necklace and lazy blue eyes, as if too pampered to lift them. Upon seeing the dogs, however, Snookums shot off somewhere in the mansion like a screechy, fuzzy missile.
