The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series

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The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series Page 24

by Patrice Wilton


  “You have no idea how to raise a child, less one that has developmental problems.”

  “I’ll learn, and I’m up for the challenge.”

  He shook his head. “You only think you are. The challenges you speak of will grow daily, and multiply year by year. What are you going to do when you’re at work? Leave the baby in the hands of a nanny? What if the baby is severely handicapped? Are you going to throw yourself into your job, and let the series of nannies deal with the daily problems?”

  He stopped suddenly, like a light had come on in his head. “Or me? Is that why you’re here?”

  My eyes flashed a warning to him. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I will look after our baby. You’re off the hook.”

  He had the grace to look ashamed of himself and stood up. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I know first hand how some women ditch their responsibilities. I’m sure your intentions are good, but years from now you might not feel the same.”

  I looked at him, and felt sorry for the little boy who had been deserted by his mother, and sorrier that it had made him the man he’d become.

  “You know something, Jed? I thought my keeping the baby a secret was to protect you, but really I was protecting me. I don’t want to share him or her. I want this baby more than anything in the world, and I will love her, and protect her, and give her the very best of everything. Whatever the outcome will be, I will make sure the baby never lacks for love.”

  Some of the coldness left his eyes. “I’m sure you mean that.” He shuffled his feet. “Look, Lydia, I really don’t know what to say right now. I’m still trying to digest all of this.”

  “I know. I’m leaving now, and you can read the doctor reports, and call me or Doctor Shelby if you have any questions. I’ve given her written authority to answer your questions, and address your concerns.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I started to leave, and turned back at the open door. “Oh, another thing. When the baby’s born, should I give him my last name or yours?”

  “Good-night, Lydia.” He shut the door in my face.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Days passed and no Jed. It hurt me to realize that he didn’t want to be a part of the baby’s life, or mine. But I wasn’t surprised. Things would never have worked between us. We both had huge trust issues. Obviously, he didn’t think I was capable of looking after a child, or that I would stick around long enough to put the little one through day-school. As for me? I didn’t think he’d commit. I’d been right on that count.

  Didn’t stop me from hurting though.

  I shed a bucket of tears and felt as though my insides were raw and bleeding. But it was okay. I was okay. I had my friends, my family, and my baby.

  My friends rallied around for moral support. They decided a girl’s night would cheer me up. Susie was the first to arrive with a bagful of goodies. She plunked the bag on the counter, and I heard a big clunk. The first items that came out of the bag were a jug of Tequila, and a margarita mix for her and Fran, and a bottle of alcohol-free wine for me. I pulled my blender out, and Susie whizzed up a pitcher of drinks and uncorked my pretend Chardonnay.

  “What else have you got hiding in there?”

  “More bad stuff,” she said, and withdrew a bag of tortilla chips. “Can’t have a margarita without going all the way.”

  “Look where “going all the way” got me—barefoot and pregnant,” I teased. “Hmm. You’ll have to teach me how to make those after the baby pops out. They look divine.”

  “Piece of cake. Ice, lots of good Tequila, a shot of Grand

  Marnier and a can of margarita mix. Voila! The perfect cocktail.”

  “You’re going to get drunk.”

  “I hope so. Did you know that I met a really cute guy a few weeks ago? He was at the Candy Bar and we went out a couple of times. Well, guess what? Last night he told me he had a sexually transmitted disease. What a bummer.”

  “You didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

  “No way. But I thanked him for being honest with me and upfront about it. Too bad, because he was the first guy who interested me in awhile.”

  “Poor Susie. Where have all the good men gone?”

  “Exactly.” She took a big drink to compensate. “No matter. I’m having fun and that’s what counts.” She asked, “Where’s Fran?”

  “She should be here any moment. Candy’s coming too.”

  “Good, but how can she get away?”

  “She made Robbie the night manager and left him in charge. Hopes to keep Billy better under control by leaving the bar at eight.”

  “Let’s hope so. He’s been a perfect angel since you got him off that robbery thing. But Candy does need to keep her eye on him.”

  “Yes, that little shake-down might have been the best thing to happen to him.”

  The door-bell rang; it was Fran. She had a grocery bag with her as well. I hugged her, and took the bag out of her hands. “What did you bring to the party?”

  “You have to wait and see. First, I need a drink.”

  After a couple of sips of her freshly poured margarita, she unloaded her bag of goodies. “Freshly baked brownies and a carton of Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream.” She grinned. “Can’t have a party without proper food.”

  We piled our junk food on a plate, and, with our drinks in the other hand, did a balancing act as we went outdoors. It was a balmy, beautiful night with a soft ocean breeze. We shifted the table and pulled our chairs close to the railing so we could take advantage of the view.

  “Candy should be here by nine. We should be half-blitzed by then.” Susie said.

  “Eat more,” Fran said, biting into her second brownie, not that I was counting.

  “Yum,” I nibbled on one. “This is good. I should indulge like this all the time. Its fun and I want to be fun.” I laughed and took a sip of my wine. “I’m not going to be uptight and dull anymore. I’m going to be the new fun girl in town and try everything.”

  “You’re drunk.” Fran said.

  “Am not.” I tilted the wine glass in her direction. “Looks like wine, taste something like wine, but its alcohol free.”

  “Good girl.”

  Susie bit into her tortilla chip and wiped the spicy salsa off her bottom lip. “Finish the drinks ladies, and then we’ll take a breather. Instead of waiting for Candy, I think we should do the masks. We’re having facials tonight.”

  “Why?” Fran asked. “Getting loaded is much more fun.”

  “We want to be beautiful, don’t we?”

  Fran looked at me and shrugged. “Not really.” She looked toward the kitchen. “Did you bring some miracle drug with you?”

  “I bought a few free samples we have to try.”

  I shook my head. Susie was always on a quest for beauty and willing to do something experimental to herself. “Are they FDA approved?”

  Fran slurped her drink. “I certainly hope so, or I’m not doing them.”

  Susie laughed. “Oh, give me a break. Of course, they are. Think I’d do something unsafe?”

  Fran and I just looked at each other. “Yes,” we said.

  “Whatever,” Susie sniffed. “You two can be chicken if you want but I have something better than Botox, and I might just keep it for myself.”

  “Okay, you win.” The three of us went inside, and Susie pulled out her bag

  of beauty tricks. “Alpha Derma CE, my friends. This reduces fine lines and wrinkles and helps prevent future damage. It’s supposed to tighten and firm your skin for the unbelievable price of only $59.95.”

  “Such a bargain,” I said with a wry grin.

  Susie picked up another jar. “This emulsion, StriVectin-SD, might be the ticket for you. It’s double the Alpha Derma but cheaper than Botox. It’s a concentrate for stretch marks, but research shows that when used on the face it can make you look ten years younger in thirty days.”

  Fran lunged for it. “That’ll be mine.”

  The la
st thing Susie pulled out was the Herbal facial mask. She read the ingredients, “Mt. Kaolin clay, sea salt, bentonite, oat flour blended with calendula blossoms, rosemary, nettle, sage, and essential oils of peppermint and spearmint.” She added, “If we don’t like it caked on our faces, we can always eat it.”

  “Why don’t we change our clothes?” I asked. “I have lots of robes we could throw on.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.” Susie agreed.

  After we were properly robed, we sat down at the kitchen table. “Here goes nothing,” I said and dipped my fingers in to the cool moisture, applying it on my brow, cheeks, and nose, leaving my eyes and lips clear. “Come on girls, it feels cool, refreshing, surprisingly good.”

  They slapped theirs on, and we looked at each other and laughed.

  “Liar.” Fran said.

  “We won’t be able to talk, will we? Once it sets?”

  Susie answered. “Our lips will be stiff, but it only takes a half hour. Let’s go back outside and enjoy the view. It’s so peaceful at night.”

  Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door.

  “Candy’s early.”

  “Oh, good.” Susie and Fran followed me indoors. I opened the door and stood there stupidly. It wasn’t Candy. “What are you…?”

  Jed peered closely. “Lydia? What is that shit on your face?” He heard a titter from behind me and recognized the size and shape of Fran. “Hey, you shouldn’t be laughing. You look just as bad.”

  Susie popped her head around Fran. “Hi. I’m the beautiful one. Can you tell?”

  He grinned. “The three of you look like kids playing with mud-pies.” He lifted a finger to touch my face. “My God. Are you sure that’ll come off? It’s hard as a rock.”

  “Of course it will.” I looked at Susie. “It comes off easy, doesn’t it?”

  “I hope so. I haven’t tried it,” she said bravely.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. I usually have a regular facial at the salon once a month.”

  “Now you tell us,” I moaned.

  Jed asked, “What’s it supposed to do? Deep clean the pores or something? Why not just use soap and water?”

  “It exfoliates dead skin cells. You should try it.”

  He frowned. “Is there something wrong with my face?”

  Susie batted her lashes and tried to flirt, even with her face baked in clay. “No, you look good just as you are.”

  I rolled my eyes, the only thing that moved.

  “How’re you feeling? Everything okay?” he asked quietly.

  “Fine. Couldn’t be better.” An invisible shield came up. He’d hurt me, and I didn’t much like being hurt.

  “Glad to hear it.” He looked around at all the eyes in mud-caked faces that were eagerly turned in his direction, and shuffled uncomfortably. “I wanted to talk to you about stuff, but this doesn’t look like a good time.”

  “Go ahead. The girls don’t care.”

  “I’ll be moving out next month. I wanted you to know.”

  “That’s wonderful, Jed. Enjoy your new home. I’m sure it’s lovely.”

  “Yes…yes, it is. The views are real nice.” He shrugged, looking embarrassed for having mentioned it. He said, “The kids and I were wondering if you’d join us for dinner some night. I’d really like to talk.”

  “Yup. We need to do that.” My heart protector was firmly in place but it was difficult breathing around it. “Let’s do dinner soon before things get crazy around here. With you moving, and me starting a new career.”

  “What new career? I thought you liked being a divorce attorney?”

  “I did. I mean I do. I just feel that it’s gotten a little stagnant and that I’m ready for a change. I’m like that. I bore easily.”

  “Coulda fooled me. You don’t look like the type who’d ever get bored.”

  “Go figure.” I said.

  Fran piped up. “Yeah, go figure. She wants to work for the children’s advocacy group and keep up the pro-bono work she already does for women shelters.”

  He looked at me. “That doesn’t surprise me. I knew deep down you were a softie at heart.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I stuck my chin in the air. “If my face wasn’t about to crack into a million pieces I’d show you just how soft I am. But you’ll have to take my word for it. Us girls have work to do.” I opened the door. “Good-bye, Jed.”

  I shut the door firmly behind him and turned to my friends. “How’d I do?”

  “Awesome.” Fran said. “You played it so cool, he’ll never know you care.”

  That wiped the smugness off my face.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Fran came over a few days later and told me we were going to bake cookies. When my nieces and nephews came over I would buy those cookies that you squeezed out of a tube, plopped on a cookie sheet, and threw in the oven—so I guess I could say I baked a little.

  But why did anyone start from scratch? It made a mess, it required bowls, it took time, and, if I had anything to do with it, it would never taste as good as the store bought stuff.

  Fran told me I was going to be a mother soon, and that home-baked cookies were healthier and more nutritional, so stop my bitching, pay attention, and learn something. I had nothing better to do, so I let her boss me around my own kitchen.

  I must admit when we popped those little suckers in the oven, the smell that permeated from the kitchen was heavenly.

  “Fran, you just might have something here, but I’m not saying that you do. I reserve judgment until I see the finished product, taste it, and compare it to the store bought variety.”

  “Once your taste buds get used to this, there’s no going back.” Fran wiped her hands on her oversized T-shirt and left a mark next to all the others.

  “I’ve got no time for this kind of thing, and no one to bake for,” I grumbled, sitting at the edge of the stool where I could eye the oven. My mouth was already watering, but I wasn’t telling her that.

  “That’s part of the problem. You spend way too much time divorcing people. You need to surround yourself with happy couples to see how wonderful marriage can be.”

  “Fran, that’s what I do. Expediting the divorce procedure for two people who hate each other pays the rent.”

  “It’s okay to practice law, but if you represented a murderer for example, you wouldn’t think it was okay to go around killing people, would you?”

  I thought about her logic for a moment and was stumped for a reply. I just had to laugh. “You’re a nut, Fran. But I love you.”

  We smiled at each other, and I thought I detected a tear in her eye. “You’re a good friend, Fran Sherman. And I thank you for your concern, but marriage is not in the books for me.”

  “Look, if Jed won’t marry you, find someone who will. You’ve attractive, smart, successful. A man should be so lucky.”

  “What man would want to wed a pregnant person?”

  “Good point. Okay, forget marriage. Susie and I will be glad to help you take care of the baby.”

  “I’m more than capable, Fran. And Shannon and my sister-in-law are fighting over who’ll do the baby-sitting.” To get off the subject, I said, “Aren’t the cookies done yet?”

  “A couple more minutes.”

  We were both sitting there, staring into space when I heard the door-bell ring. I jumped up to answer it. I jumped back when I saw the face at my door. “It’s Jed and the kids.”

  Fran looked up. “Well, well, well.” She smiled. “Let them in. What are you waiting for?”

  Slowly, I opened the door a crack. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself. Can we come in? The kids wanted to bring you something when they heard about your accident.”

  “Hi, kids. What have you got behind your back? Let me see.” I reached around to tickle them, and got them giggling.

  Nick nearly dropped the plant in his hands. Nicole clapped and grinned. “It’s a boovilla! With pretty flowers.”

/>   “Oh, a Bougainvillea?” I ruffled the kids’ heads. “I love them. And purple is my favorite color. How did you know?” I took the plant from Nick so I could give it my full appreciation. “It’s perfect. Did you guys pick it out?”

  They nodded, both grinning toothless smiles, I noticed.

  Jed nodded to Fran. “Hi. What are you baking? It smells good.”

  “Cookies. They’ll be ready in a minute. You’re just in time.”

  Nicole nudged my arm. “Dad said you had an ass-dent. Is that why you got a big bandage on your face?”

  An ass-dent? Oh, an accident. “Yeah. I tripped over a dog and fell flat on my face. Broke my nose.”

  “Ouch. Did that hurt?” Nick asked.

  “Yup. It did, but the doctor fixed my nose and I’m okay now.”

  I took the plant to the sink, added some water, and put it out on the patio, with a little hope and prayer that it wouldn’t die. I was a serial plant killer.

  Fran wiped her hands on her apron. “Come sit down, everybody. The cookies are almost ready. Who’d like some lemonade?”

  Jed answered. “I’m up for that.”

  “How about you two? Milk or lemonade?”

  “Milk, please.” The twins piped up.

  I couldn’t let Fran totally take over my kitchen, even if she did a heck of a job. “I’ll get the glasses.” As I reached for the glasses I just knew Jed’s eyes were on my rump. My shorts were hugging my ass a little too well these days.

  Fran took the milk container from the fridge and poured two glasses. “Anybody else for milk?”

  I nodded, and she poured milk for me and lemonade for her and Jed. She checked the cookies, decided they were ready, and placed them on the top of the stove to cool.

  The kids’ eyes were huge. “Yummy, yummy.” Nick rubbed his tummy.

  Jed eyed the cookies and licked his lips. “Fran, I think you should move in with Lydia because she rarely eats.”

  I glared at him. “I do, too.”

  Fran winked at me. “No, I was telling Lydia that she should give serious consideration to getting married. We were discussing the list of possibilities when you knocked on the door.”

 

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