“The Ponies? You mean the Colts going to the Super Bowl?”
“Whatever.”
She laughed, noticing the bicep beneath his white T-shirt, strong from all the labor he put into the house. It looked good on his otherwise lanky frame. “I want to show you off to my friends.”
Her friend Ivy had snatched up the guy Beth had always dreamed of and Sarah bragged about her perfect family on her “Sarah Homemaker” website. Last she saw them, at Ivy’s thirtieth birthday bash, Beth had sensed their pity like being trapped in the rain without an umbrella. She had been looking forward to walking in to the reunion dinner arm-in-arm with her handsome boyfriend/fiancé. Plus, after dinner, there was a dance. She’d been to so many wedding receptions without a partner and now that she had one, he was blowing her off.
He walked over to the suitcase, unzipped it and started pulling out his dress shoes and clothes. He piled them on the parlor floor. “I’ll have to go to the hardware store and buy some supplies and who knows how long fixing it will take.” A little black box tumbled across the wooden floor. “What’s this?” He picked up the velvet square.
Her breath caught in her throat. She reached for the box. “Nothing.”
Smirking, he played keep away. Easy to do since he was several inches taller than her five-foot-four frame. He flipped open the lid and her spirits sank.
She hated that she’d become that woman. The woman who had to propose to her boyfriend. “I was going to give that to you this weekend.”
He pulled out the diamond tie tack encircled with gold. “Wow. Is that real?”
She nodded. She’d considered picking out her own diamond, but that felt doubly lame: Here’s the ring, now put it on my finger. Since Drew didn’t even wear his MIT class ring, she’d settled on an engagement tie tack. It felt perfect—especially since he was the only guy in his department who wore a tie to work every day.
“Thanks. What’s the occasion?”
Beth’s mouth dropped open. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This couldn’t be the engagement story that she told her girlfriends. She wanted the proposal to take place in candlelight—not next to a leaky toilet—and she didn’t want to remember Drew stumbling across the diamond as he wriggled his way out of spending the weekend with her. She shrugged. “Just because.”
“Well, I’ll go put it on my dresser. It’s almost too fancy to wear to work. I’ll save it for a special occasion.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the lips. “Call me when you get there.”
“I’m not going without you.” She plopped on the fainting couch with the broken springs and accidentally kicked over his stack of unpacked clothes. Her mind raced. It was probably too late to cancel their hotel room, too late to get a refund on the dinner tickets, too. “What a waste of money.” Money that could go into reupholstering this couch or paying off student loans or maybe even a honeymoon.
“It’s not a waste if you go. Beth, you’ve been looking forward to this for a while. You deserve some time with your friends.”
“We both deserve a weekend away.” Raising his niece made her realize how much she wanted a child of her own. This weekend she’d hoped they’d start talking seriously about such things. “Maybe you can fix the toilet tonight and we can go in the morning.”
He sat next to her and patted her leg. “I’m afraid it makes sense for me to get some work done here. If you stay, you’ll be bored. Plus you’re giving that speech.”
Why had she agreed to speak at the banquet? Because the college girl on the phone had begged her to, explaining that each of the founding members of the Leadership Club would say a few words. The truth was, Beth wouldn’t mind skipping the speech. Yet she’d be miffed if she stayed home. Drew was going to ignore her, like he often did these days. Ever since Emma moved in, he spent every spare moment on renovations. They no longer scoured antique stores for Victorian pieces, no longer went to sci fi movies and no longer traded foot massages while discussing work.
She glanced at her watch. If he didn’t want to spend some quality time together, she wouldn’t force it. “All right. I’m going to go.”
He squeezed her knee and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You’ll be glad you did.” He popped up and headed for his laptop. “I’m going to look up how to fix a leaking toilet.”
How romantic, Beth thought. She added this slight to the checklist, as she climbed the stairs to Emma’s room. The girl was used to playing alone, but Beth tried her best to be as involved and present as possible. It wasn’t Emma’s fault she’d had to learn independence at such a young age.
Beth’s jaw dropped when she stepped inside the room.
Emma, a tow-headed, blue-eyed cherub, looked up from the floor where she had smeared finger paints all over the wool rug. “Sorry, Aunt Beth.” She scrubbed with her Dora the Explorer washcloth, exacerbating the mess.
“Oh, my gosh, Emma. What happened?”
“Sorry.” Her lower lip pushed outward in remorse. She burst into tears.
Beth couldn’t stand to see the girl cry. “It’s okay.” She knelt down to hug the child. Part of her wanted to let Drew deal with the mess since he’d just flaked out on her. But the part of her that needed to be the hero won out. She went to the hall closet, found the carpet stain remover and sprayed the green and brown splotch. It took two cycles of scrubbing to get it almost clean. She faced Emma and put on a happy face to try and cheer the girl up. “Wash your hands and get in the car. It’s time to go to grandma’s.”
“Is Mommy going to be there?”
Beth’s gut twisted. “I don’t think so.”
“Why can’t I go to Mommy’s place? I miss my mommy!”
“Your mommy loves you very much, but she can’t watch you this weekend.” Because your mommy would rather spend time with her boyfriend. You deserve so much better. “Grandma told me she bought the ingredients to make chocolate chip pancakes.” Beth would say anything to distract Emma.
“Yippee!” Emma jumped, revealing red and green splatters on her pink dress. Beth couldn’t take her like that. These people, who hopefully would be her in-laws, would think she was failing as a guardian.
While Emma went to the nearby bathroom and washed, Beth opened the closet crammed full of size 3T frocks. Reaching between two outfits with the tags still on, she selected a sailor dress she’d purchased last week at Macy’s.
Once Emma was changed, they headed downstairs where they both gave Drew a hug good-bye. Beth told him about the stain on the rug that he’d purchased special when Emma arrived. “I got it out as best I could, but it’s still visible.”
His shoulders slumped with the weight of his house’s to-do list. “What?”
The light gray parrot with red tail feathers took his cue, “What the hell-what the hell.”
Emma looked up at Beth. “What’s hell?”
# # #
After dropping Emma off at Drew’s parents’ house, Beth climbed in her Chevy and headed toward Indiana University.
As she drove south, she thought about the Leadership Club. It had been the first place where she’d felt welcomed. It was better than home. There should be a word for that—friends that treat you better than family.
Her cell phone rang. When she saw that it was work calling, she picked up. “Hello?”
“Beth, I have a customer on the line and no matter what I say, he’s not satisfied,” a panicked female voice said. It was one of her new trainees. “I hate to bother you on the weekend, but he insists on speaking with my supervisor and Lisa went home sick. Would you mind if I transferred him to you?”
“Not a problem.” Beth heard the click of the connection, and out of habit she curved her lips into a smile. “This is Bethany, the customer service manager. How may I resolve your concern?”
“I got these vitamins but I can’t swallow them,” a gruff, elderly man’s voice came over the line.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’d be glad to refund you if you’d ship them back to Healthy Habits
Vitamins and Herbs.” The company operated an internet and mail-order business only.
“No. I don’t drive. I can’t get to the post office.”
“I see. I’d be glad to send you pre-paid postage so you can mail it from home.”
“You don’t understand. My doctor told me to take Vitamin C, but it gets stuck in my throat.”
“So you want to take the vitamins, but they are hard to swallow. Do you have a pill-splitter? That might help alleviate the difficulty in swallowing. You could take half in the morning and half at night, if you’d like.”
“I eat a banana for breakfast and take my pills. At six a.m. every day for the past fifty years.”
The rigidity of his routine made her smile even broader. She loved chatting with the elderly. “Sir, you can take both halves with breakfast. If that doesn’t work, I’d be glad to send you postage and refund you your full purchase price.”
“You won’t deduct for the vitamins I’ve already taken?”
“No, sir. Our goal at Healthy Habits is to ensure one hundred percent customer satisfaction. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy.”
“Oh.” He paused as if thrown by this offer. “I suppose I could try using my pill splitter. But if that doesn’t work, I’m calling you back.”
“Excellent. Please ask for Bethany when you do. I’d love to hear from you.” But the call wasn’t over. After telling her stories about his hip replacement surgery and his faithful German shepherd, the man cheerfully bid her a good day.
Sometimes she really got a kick out of the customers who called. In fact, she loved talking to people on the phone, but speaking to a crowd still caused her stomach to twist. Her impending speech filled her with worry.
In her mind, she wanted to encourage the students to take advantage of the opportunities the club provided. Run for treasurer, VP or even president. All things she’d been too timid to try. She wanted to explain that it was okay if they weren’t sure how to motivate underclassmen to get up on Saturday mornings to help build a house for Habitat for Humanity. Get excited, make it fun, and people will join in. Best of all, when they graduated, they would have an answer to the interview question, “Tell me about a time you faced something difficult and how you overcame it.”
The truth was she knew how to land a job, but not how to advance. She liked running the call-in center well enough, but after thirteen years, she hungered for a new challenge. She’d expected her strong work ethic to be enough, but her career had stalled.
Her personal life didn’t seem to be going anywhere either. Nothing had prepared her for the joys and heartbreaks of raising someone else’s child. And the painful memories it would stir up. If only Drew understood how important taking the next step was. But he’d rather fix a leaky toilet than spend the night in a hotel with her. She shook her head. Who was she to give anyone advice?
A few hours later, she drove through the hilly terrain surrounding campus. She smiled at the students whizzing by on bicycles. Pleased that some things still looked familiar, she found her way in the dark to the Union Hotel parking lot.
Leaves crunched beneath her feet as she pulled her wheeled luggage into the limestone building. A massive wooden staircase, a white marble statue—the place had plenty of class, and once she checked in, a beautiful antique dresser and walnut bed welcomed her into her room.
Heading down to the lobby, she dialed her cell, but Drew didn’t answer. That seemed odd. Maybe he was in the middle of the repair and didn’t want to walk away? She tried twice more while she waited in the lobby for Ivy, who was already a half hour late.
“Beth!” a high-pitched voice squealed.
Beth turned to see her old friend running toward her with open arms. They hugged for a few seconds, then Beth appraised her friend’s appearance. “I love your hair!”
Ivy fluffed her short, dark curls. “My stylist charges a small fortune, but he’s worth it. I can’t believe how long your hair is.”
Beth pushed a lock behind her ear, not sure what to say. “I should get a trim.” She wasn’t sure the last time she’d been to the salon.
“Have you ever considered getting highlights?”
“Not really.”
“It would take away some of the ‘dirty’ and bring out more of the ‘blonde.’”
Beth cringed. She’d always hated that description of her natural hair color.
With her lipstick fresh, Ivy segued into talking about her drive and how much campus had changed. “Wait. Where’s Drew?” She peered around Beth’s shoulder as if he might be hiding.
“Would you believe he had a plumbing disaster? He stayed home to fix it.”
Beth still thought he’d been a little too eager to remain behind. Did he suspect this weekend might get serious?
“Couldn’t you just call a plumber?”
Beth shrugged. “That’s what I suggested.”
“Sounds like trouble in paradise. The saxophonist in my band is single. If you’re interested, I could fix you up. He’s pretty cute.”
“No thanks. Drew and I are practically engaged.” The lie was out before Beth could stop it.
“Really?” Ivy’s face brightened. “Tell me everything. Are you thinking of a June wedding? If so, you’d better get busy. A lot of reception halls book up a year in advance. It might already be too late.”
Beth shook her head, in desperate need of a subject change. “We’re not that far yet. Where’s your husband? Getting the luggage?” Ivy’s husband, Parker, would certainly do the chivalrous thing. He also opened doors for her and always picked up the check.
Ivy pulled her red lips together. Her lips were always red. “He had some fires to put out at the office unfortunately.” She shifted her weight. “But hey, this is great. I know Sarah’s husband is going to stay home to watch their kids. We’ll have a girls’ night out!”
“That’s a rare treat. Especially for Sarah, I would assume.”
“No kidding. How many kids does she have now? Four? Five? It’s like she hasn’t figured out where they come from or something.” Ivy giggled.
“She has four.” Beth felt her hackles rise. “I think Sarah’s a great mom. If anyone should have kids, it’s her.”
“Well, somebody has to keep the population going.” Ivy reached around and gave Beth another hug. “It’s so good to see you. Do you mind helping me with my luggage? Then I desperately need some retail therapy.”
“Sounds good. I’d like to look for a souvenir for Emma.”
# # #
After visiting the shops on Kirkwood Avenue, Ivy insisted they go drinking. The Blue Note Bar had a short line outside. It had a different name back in the day, but otherwise, it looked the same. Beth allowed herself to feel flattered when the doorman carded her. Once inside, the music blared from the small stage where a band played.
Unwilling to blow her recent weight loss, Beth ordered a Diet Coke. Ivy requested a Long Island iced tea then dug in her purse. She pulled out her Smartphone. “Let me show you pictures from our trip to Belgium.” She held the screen toward Beth and shuffled through shots of castles and gardens.
“Those are beautiful.” Beth had to shout to be heard over the music. “I’ve never been to Europe.”
“Really? You must go. It’s like a whole other world. I’ll give you the name of my travel agent. She put everything together—I mean everything. I didn’t even need to think about what to wear, it seemed.” Ivy tilted her head back, eyes closed. “Can you even believe that? Three weeks of just existing. It was heavenly.”
Beth knew her vacation days and her small chunk of savings would all go into the Victorian fixer-upper. “Maybe we’ll make the trip in a few years or so.” Or maybe in a few decades.
The waiter brought their drinks and Ivy fluttered her eyelids at him, ignoring Beth’s remark. “Does the band take requests?”
The twenty-something in a black T-shirt and tight-fitting jeans shrugged. “Can I get you anything else?”
&nbs
p; “Can you recommend something to eat? When you’re barely one-hundred pounds, the alcohol goes straight to your brain.”
Beth rolled her eyes.
“The chicken wings are pretty good. Spicy.”
Ivy smiled at him, twirling her short curls around her finger. “I love spicy things.” He wrote down her order and tucked his pen behind his ear. She watched him walk away before turning her attention back to Beth. “Did I tell you Parker’s business is flourishing?” The band finished a song and for a moment, she didn’t have to yell. “We just broke ground in Wisconsin. I’m sure Mall Land will be as big a hit there as it was in Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan. It’s brilliant, really, to provide free babysitting in a giant indoor playground while parents go shopping. Both kids and adults love it. The money keeps rolling in.”
Beth remembered Ivy’s husband, Parker, well. She’d taken speech with him her freshman year. When she’d stood to introduce herself on the first day of class, she’d fainted. The handsome upperclassman had caught her, then run to the restroom and brought her cold, wet paper towels for her forehead.
When it was Parker’s turn to introduce himself, he talked about a club he wanted to start for altruistic people. A few weeks later, he held a call-out for new members and she went mostly to repay him for his kindness. She’d brought Ivy along for moral support. That had been Beth’s fatal mistake.
Next to Ivy’s skinny, Wonderbra-enhanced body, Beth had felt frumpier than ever, and Parker’s reaction had proven it wasn’t just a feeling. He had lit up when he met Ivy. He even slipped her his number afterwards, “in case she had any more questions about the organization.”
At the first club party, though, Ivy got a bit of a surprise. Girls fawned all over Parker, bringing him beers and asking him to dance. The sight reinforced Beth’s belief that he’d never go for a stout girl with freckles. Ivy, however, had taken it as a challenge.
Beth sipped on her drink and watched Ivy bounce her head to the beat of the music. “So you’re still singing?”
On the Verge (Sisters Series Book 3) Page 24
