Back to Life

by Kristin Billerbeck

  Hearing Cherry talk about men like that is always disturbing, and it never quite loses its shock value. “It’s not going to be either. I’m off to have some fun.”

  “You go, girl! Woowoo!” she squealed as I left. I laugh just thinking about it.

  “What’s so funny?” a man in the elevator asks me.

  “I was just thinking about my neighbor. She was excited I was going on a cruise.”

  He gives me one of those smiles and nods as though I’m crazy myself.

  I think back to her advice. “Lindsay, don’t waste your life on appearances. Look at my face—looks forty, doesn’t it? My chest, maybe twenty-five, but honey, there ain’t no denying I am an eighty-year-old woman. I feel it in my bones.” She releases her grip and pats my arm. “You go sail around the ocean and come back, ready to commit to someone or something. You’re not a loner like us. Hear that much. I may be just the crazy old lady who lives across the porch from you, but I learned a thing or two in these decades.”

  Maybe I should have gone to a spa—less contact with humanity there. Bette’s expression told me exactly what she thought of the cruise, and the fact that Cherry approves doesn’t say much for my choice. I have this knack for creating conflict, and only when I’m in it do I see the steps that I took to get there. I like to think myself a victim of circumstances, but really now…I’ve stopped a wedding from happening, I’ve kissed my dead husband’s nephew and I’ve offended my houseguest by breaking the one promise she asked of me. I couldn’t have stumbled into all of that, could I have?

  As I step off the elevator, my cell phone rings, and I look at it to see that it’s Haley. I plop the suitcase down and answer. No doubt she’s calling because of Bette’s panicked phone call to her. “Yes, Haley?”

  “Girl, I don’t know what you’re up to, but you do remember me right? Your best friend? The girl you saved from a lifetime of chocolate frosting and nights of bad TV psychology? I feel like you’re running from me, and I can’t keep up. Where have you been?”

  “I’m not up to anything.” I’m not in the mood to be around a bride, full of hope for the future. Even if she is my best friend.

  “I know, Bette says you’re going on a cruise.”

  “Don’t I deserve a vacation? I just wanted to have some time to myself. Mull things over a bit. I don’t even know what to say about my mother. She wasn’t all bad. Right? Maybe I’ll like the woman she’s become. Who knows?”

  “Well, I suppose so. I wish I could take some of this from you.”

  “But you can’t because you’re the charmed one, remember?”

  “It’s when I stopped wearing rhinestones, my life suddenly got so rocky. I’m thinking a cruise is an excellent place for you to pick up a new wardrobe. A tacky, vacation wardrobe.”

  “I got the invitations out for the shower. Did you see them?”

  “They’re gorgeous. I can’t wait to see everyone. My mother has forgiven everyone, now that I’m marrying a man my own age. She invited Gavin’s wife to come down with her for the shower.”

  Gavin is the man Haley’s mother hoped she would marry. “That has to mean Hamilton’s in like flint now, huh?”

  “And why wouldn’t he be? How on earth did you book a cruise so fast?”

  “They had the presidential suite still open for this week. They usually upgrade it if it’s not sold, and it wasn’t so I gave them my credit card number, and for the next four days, the suite is mine. The storm in the condo should have blown over by the time I get back. Jane will have found a new place to live, or better yet, be on her way back to the life she lives in Mexico. Jake will figure out what to do with his sorry, commitment-phobe life, and if I had to guess, it’s to run into his bride’s arms and beg forgiveness. Ronnie will have realized he made a mistake—” My voice trails off.

  “Wait a minute. What was that?”

  “Nothing. Look, we’ll talk when I get back. It’s four days; you’ll survive without me.”

  “What did you do? You can’t leave me hanging like that!”

  “Uh-oh, you’re breaking up. Better run!” I snap the phone shut and pause outside my double-doored suite.

  I open the door and jump onto the bed, stretching out wide across the king-size mattress. I pull out a book. “Okay, Dr. Phil. This is the last time I take a bald man to bed with me.”

  Chapter 21

  Jane

  I’m packing my suitcase, ready to get back to a world that makes sense to me when the phone rings. I see Ronnie’s name light up the caller ID screen, and I about burst.

  “Hi, Sweetie!”

  “Hey, Mom, how are you this morning?”

  “Well, I’m getting things packed up, once again racing from the shambles I’ve managed to create in L.A. This city doesn’t like me, and now it seems, neither do you.”

  “Mom, I need time is all. This will blow over. It has to because I know you would never do anything to hurt me, and you’re my mom. I love you.”

  “I wouldn’t, Ronnie. I’ve done some stupid things in my day, but never would I hurt you on purpose.”

  “So I have a favor to ask of you then.”

  “A favor? Anything son.”

  “Find Davis and marry him. Mom, he loves you, and you’ve given too much of your life away trying to protect us. You can’t keep running. Sometimes, you have to stop and feel the pain. It’s no fun. Trust me, it’s no fun, but it’s necessary.”

  “You’re giving me advice on romance?”

  “I would never feel qualified to do that.” He laughs. “I’m giving you advice on keeping what’s good around.”

  “You met Mitch then?”

  “I did. I like him. He holds his pencil the same way I do.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “We had breakfast. We’re going to have breakfast every Sunday for a while. Get to know each other.”

  “I’m glad. Can I give you one piece of advice?”

  “That depends.”

  “Don’t rescue women. Your namesake always did that.”

  “I’m not rescuing anyone.”

  “I know what you like in women, son. I saw it in the sixth grade, when you went on and on about Julia Suarez. The poor girl had that lisp, and everyone made fun of her. You fell in love immediately.”

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t that sympathetic, Mom. She hit puberty early, and I was twelve. That’s when I was making my decisions hormonally. You take care of yourself.”

  “I’ll take care of myself. The diabetes is in check. I promise.”

  “When are you leaving? I’ll need you to leave the fax online so that anything that needs to be signed can be sent down there and returned quickly.”

  “Oh, that’s right! I still haven’t talked to Mitch about—”

  “Mitch and I have the will all worked out. Don’t you worry. He won’t be making any claims.”

  His comment fills me with questions, but I don’t want to lose my son over telling him how to run his life, so I clamp my mouth tightly.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow. I think it’s best if I’m gone when Lindsay returns. She’s ready for her house back, and I’m sure Davis is ready for me to get back to my old life, if he still wants me in his old life. I haven’t even spoken with him since he called about the gallery being low on stock, so I’m certain that—”

  “Davis isn’t there, Mom.”

  “What do you mean he isn’t there?”

  “Davis isn’t at the house, and he isn’t running the gallery. He hired a woman from Xalapa. He’s gone. He wanted me to break it to you gently and asks that you respect his wishes.”

  “Ronnie, Davis has always said that—”

  “No, this time, he’s gone. He left the house and gallery in the care of this woman. She has a son that I’m going to enroll at the school. Davis left you a note. I’m so sorry, Mom.”

  I feel as though my heart might stop. “You talked to him? Didn’t you just tell me to go back to him?”

  “I did,
but I didn’t say it was going to be easy. Nothing worth having ever is. Davis called me because he thought if he talked to you, he might change his mind. He still loves you deeply. I wish you could tell him you feel the same, but it may be too late this time. But I have faith in you, Mom.”

  “You’re telling me I’m going home to an empty house, and that he couldn’t wait to tell me personally? But I should run after him and not be too proud to beg?”

  “Precisely. Davis is gone. He said he couldn’t playact as your husband any longer.”

  “Playact?” I force myself to catch my breath. Those are nearly the exact words I used to describe my own situation with Ron. I couldn’t have done that to another human being. “We’ve been through so much together. Surely, he’d tell me this himself. Ronnie, you know that Davis and I—”

  “He was worried he wouldn’t follow through. I told you, Mom. You don’t always make it easy for people to tell you their truth.”

  I’m crushed and in disbelief. “You can’t trust anyone in this world.”

  “You can trust God.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Ronnie. Grow up! I’m talking about reality here.”

  He hangs up on me.

  I believe in the law of attraction. Clearly, I’m attracting a swell of garbage, so I must be doing something to get such a violent reaction from the men I love.

  The world is a very dark place to be sometimes.

  Chapter 22

  Lindsay

  I have my whole life in front of me. That’s what I think when I go to the front of the ship and hold my arms out like Leonardo and Kate in Titanic. Like every idiot on a cruise ship hasn’t done this before me. Well, everyone under the age of sixteen, I suppose. Seeing someone my age is probably disconcerting for many.

  “You’re the queen of the world!”

  I turn around to find a man behind me smiling at my antics. I step down from the bow. “Like you don’t want to do it. Do it. Go ahead, I dare you.” I order the stranger. “Step up there and give me your best Leo.” I swing my arm in the direction of the front, and he follows my arm.

  “All right, I will.” He leans over the railing, and he’s so tall, I’m scared he’s going to fall and I pull him back. “Seriously?” He asks me.

  “Sorry. I’m a worrier.”

  He steps back up and puts his arms out. “I’m on top of the world!” he shouts, and even with the roar of the wind, I can hear people behind us on deck laughing. He turns around with a grin. There is never an available man anywhere in a twenty-mile vicinity until you’re married or decide you’re never going to be. Then, they’re like ants, marching through life, determined as the one they follow. “Come up here,” he shouts.

  I walk up the slight slope to the tip of the ship. I put my arms out and he puts his out. “We’re the king of the world!” we shout and laugh like the freaks we are.

  I shake my head. “You make a good Leo.”

  “And you are a fabulous Winslet. Is this your first cruise?” He puts his hand out and I grab it and he pulls me back to the bow.

  “Second, but I was with my husband the first time, and I think it was before Leo and Kate.”

  “Ah, divorced?”

  “He died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I pushed him over the rail on that last cruise.” I look at him in all seriousness and his smile evaporates.

  “Seriously?”

  “Stroke.” I shrug.

  “Ah. That’s a relief.” He steps toward the deck chairs just in case. “You have a sick sense of humor.”

  “I do, but I need one. It keeps me sane.”

  “Ah, this is sanity,” he quips. “Where you from?”

  “Bel Air. A little condo, not the mansions,” I clarify.

  “Brentwood,” he says. “I live in a guesthouse. Not the mansions.”

  “Like Kato Kaelin?”

  “Sort of, only I pay rent and have a job, and my little old lady landlord wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “I don’t have a job. I used to sell men’s suits.” I shrug. “I got a degree in Art History. It was pretty useless, actually. I had a Mayan artist staying with me, and I didn’t even get that, so it’s more useless than I remember.”

  He nods. “I’m a landscape architect.”

  “Wow. That sounds like a real job.”

  “Don’t I look like I have a real job?”

  I shrug. “It’s just most guys in L.A. tell you what their job is while they’re waiting for their role.”

  “You an actress?”

  “Not until a few minutes ago on the bow of this ship. I was a trophy wife.”

  He blinks quickly. “You admit it?”

  “I didn’t really know until it was too late. Now I’m proud of it. I was a good trophy wife and in the end, I think he would have taken me ugly.”

  “That does sound like a good trophy wife. Norm Beckham,” he says officially as he thrust out his hand. He’s dressed like a tourist. Bad silky, floral shirt and khaki shorts with a brown belt. Too tacky to believe a woman had any part in the outfit, so I take him to be single.

  “Lindsay Brindle. Got any cruise tips?”

  He nods. “Stay away from the casino and if you drink, do so slowly in Mexico and go with a friend.”

  “The voice of experience?”

  “A guy’s weekend I will regret for a very long time.”

  “So you like to cruise then?”

  “I like to get away for four days and not cook a meal and come home rested. You can’t beat the value. No one can call you—well, they can possibly, but I leave my cell phone at home.”

  “I’m here to find myself.” It sounds more twisted as I say it aloud. “I brought my shrink along.” I take out a self-help title from my bag.

  “Yourself? Not a new boyfriend?” he asks with raised brow.

  “You men think we’re all out to trap you.” I look him up and down. “You’re safe.”

  “Is it the shirt?” he asks, fingering his collar.

  “Partly. Partly because I really am not looking for a new husband, and if I were, I’d have to figure out what I was looking for. Hence, the reason I’m here looking for me.”

  “There she is!”

  I look up to see Haley and Helena approaching. I squeal like a teenager, “What are you two doing here?”

  “We’re here to help you vacation. You don’t want to do that alone,” Haley exclaims.

  “Or with strangers,” Helena says, arms crossed in front of her.

  “Helena, Haley, meet Norm Beckham, a landscape artist from Brentwood.”

  “Only a Brentwood guesthouse,” he clarifies.

  “You don’t have to make yourself any less desirable. We’re not here looking for men,” Helena quips.

  Norm, a blond man with significant stature, gives a questioning gaze toward Helena. How do you explain our gorgeous, Spock-like friend to a complete stranger? “She doesn’t mean anything by that.”

  “No?”

  “She’s just stating the facts. Aren’t you Helena?”

  “Wasn’t that obvious?” she asks.

  “This has been enlightening. I think I’ll be going now. You ladies have a lovely cruise,” Norm says. “Lindsay, same bat channel tomorrow morning, if you want to fly with me.” He winks and saunters off.

  “What was that about?” Haley asks me. “Don’t you have a few men to get rid of before you add more to your cache?”

  “I don’t have a cache, Haley.”

  “A litter then? What do you want to call it?”

  “History. So what are you girls doing here?”

  “We were worried about you. So we got a last minute room in the bowel of the ship, with no window, and we thought that doesn’t matter—we’ll stay in Lindsay’s suite. So we’re here.”

  “How did you get off work?”

  “My boss is out of town. I told Lily she could cover for me, or come on the cruise, but we needed to be here for you. We booked our room as soon
as we heard from Bette.”

  “So this morning on the phone? You were already on your way here?”

  “Yep. We were making sure you actually got on board before we got stuck on this floating bar alone.”

  We share a group hug. “My homeys are here for me,” I say, delighted at the thought that for once, I am the needy one and everyone knows it. I’m terrible at being the needy one. “I’m here to plan my life on an organizational flow chart. I brought markers.”

  “Whoopee! That sounds like an exciting vacation.” Haley rolls her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell the girls you needed some life planning? What are the Trophy Wives good for, if not giving advice?”

  God bless her. I know Haley’s trying to be helpful, but these flirtations with Jake and Ronnie, however life altering they may be, are the only sign of life I’ve actually felt in a year. They’re the only things that made me realize my heart does still beat and that there is hope that I won’t be alone forever.

  “Jane doesn’t think I’m good enough for her son, and I’m fine with that. But you know, Jake’s mother didn’t think I was good enough for him, either, and Ron’s mother was dead or she probably would have felt the same. So I figured maybe God needs to show me why the mothers of America think I’m such horrible wife material. I need clarity. I want to learn from my mistakes, you know? All of this had to happen for a reason.” Haley nods.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Helena says with that look of duh she’s perfected. Granted, she could be talking about the origin of anything from shampoo to Aristotle’s separation from Plato, and she’d give you the same expression.

  “It’s never obvious to me, Helena. Enlighten me, if you get it.”

  “Clearly, you have a mother issue you need to deal with. God says that sin will be visited to the fourth generation.”

  “So that’s why mothers don’t like me?” I ask.

  “No, that’s why you need people’s mothers’ approval. You don’t have your own to contend with, so subconsciously, you’re searching.”

  Haley gives Helena a look and slices her palm across her neck. I can’t imagine why anyone bothers to try to shut Helena up. She never takes notice of anyone’s reactions. It seems to empower her. Any kind of feedback at all seems to empower her.