by Robin Brande
“Sorry,” Carolyn said as Eliza walked them out. “He and Will should never get together.”
The two men had matched each other drink for drink, although Will seemed to be holding his better.
“He could have done it on his own,” Eliza said. “I’ve seen him before.” She thought of his behavior at the opening of the Monarch store. At the time he’d claimed he was nervous being around her. She wondered if he’d use that excuse again.
“Thanks for coming,” Eliza told the Jacksons. “And Katie, next time I need a cake decorator, you’re hired.”
“What do you say?” Carolyn asked her.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Eliza said, then she mouthed to Carolyn, “Manners.”
She ascended the stairs again, already pulling out her phone. She searched for Careyville taxis, and found two different companies.
“You’ll drive Teddy home, won’t you?” Hildy asked.
Eliza pointed to the phone she held against her ear. “Already calling.”
“Come on, Lizzy,” Ted said. “Take me home.”
“Hi, can you come pick someone up?” She gave the dispatcher their address. “What’s your address, Ted?” He shook his head. “We’ll give it to the driver when he gets here,” Eliza told the dispatcher. Then she ended the call and looked at the two droopy people on the couch.
“Tired?” she asked her mother-in-law.
“Whipped,” Hildy said.
“Not me,” Ted said.
“Good, then you won’t have any trouble getting down the stairs. Let’s go. The taxi’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Hildy gave Eliza a significant look, but Eliza shook her head. “I’m done for the evening,” she said. “I need to clean up, then we’re going to bed.”
She went to the couch and held out her hand for Ted. He slapped his hand into hers. She pulled to help him stand up. Then he crashed into her and held onto her by the hips.
“How come David?” he mumbled. “How come not me?”
Eliza ignored the question and guided him toward the stairs.
He leaned against the banister as he slowly made his way down. “You’re not going to answer?” he asked her. “Why? Aren’t we friends?”
“No,” Eliza said.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
Eliza opened the door and waited for him outside. The night was cold. She wasn’t wearing a jacket.
Ted slipped his arm around her waist once more and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I could have made you happy. You should have picked me.”
Eliza extricated herself. She didn’t bother answering.
“Was it Livia?” Ted asked. “Is that what made you mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
“Yes, you are,” Ted said. “Look at you. But you’re still so beautiful.”
The taxi pulled up and sat idling in the street.
“See you, Ted,” Eliza said. “Thanks for bringing Hildy flowers.”
Ted opened the back door of the taxi, then paused with his arm draped over it. “You know, Jamey would have said to pick me.”
“Go home, Ted.” Eliza turned and stalked back to the house. And locked the door behind her.
She rose wearily up the stairs.
“Well, that was a nice party,” Hildy told her. “Thanks for throwing it. Did you have fun?”
“Mostly,” Eliza answered.
“What did you think about Teddy?”
“I think he plays dirty.”
“What’s that mean?”
Eliza didn’t bother telling her what he’d said about Jamey. “He thinks David still cares whether he wins,” she said instead. “Or else he thinks they’re swapping girlfriends again.”
Hildy patted the couch beside her. Eliza sighed and went to sit down. She rested her head against her mother-in-law’s shoulder.
“Thanks for the party,” Hildy said again.
“Thanks for being my favorite mother-in-law.” Eliza kissed her on the cheek.
“Jamey married the right girl,” Hildy told her. “I knew it the minute he brought you home.”
“How did you know?” Eliza smiled at the memory of their meeting.
“You didn’t put on airs,” Hildy said. “You didn’t pretend you were anything you weren’t. You were a nice, polite girl. And you treated me with respect.”
“I hope you still feel that way.”
“That you’re a nice, polite girl? The best,” Hildy said. She patted Eliza’s thigh, then pushed herself to her feet. She held up her evil cast.
“You think this means this is how the year is going to go?”
Hildy had a superstition about beginnings. She thought however she began the new year and her birthday—really any major holiday—that was how the rest of the year would unfold.
“Let’s see,” Eliza said. “You had a nice night with friends, Frank Sawyer brought you roses, you ate cake using a fork that you held in your wrong hand—”
“I am getting better at that.”
“Yes, you are,” Eliza said. “You have me, and I love you. You’re back in your old house, and you love that. Daisy didn’t bite a single person tonight—” Although Eliza wouldn’t have minded if she’d bitten Ted. “—and you’re generally happy, I think, aren’t you?”
“Generally,” Hildy agreed, “yes.”
“So. The stupid cast is coming off soon, and this will all be behind us. And who knows? Maybe we’ll hit the lottery and you can buy a new car. I think that would be worth looking forward to in your new birthday year.”
“Seventy years old,” Hildy said, shaking her head. “Can you believe it?”
“I will tell you this,” Eliza said. “Ted did say one good thing tonight.”
“What’s that?”
“He told me his mother is only sixty, but you look ten years younger than she does.”
“Ha!” Hildy answered. “That woman is sixty-three if she’s a day. Does she think people don’t remember how much older they are than her?” Hildy shook her head. “But that was nice of him to say.”
Eliza shrugged.
“You still don’t like him, do you?” Hildy asked.
“Not much.”
“Still like Davey better?”
“Good night, Hildy.”
“Want to know my birthday wish for you?”
“No. Good night.”
“I’d like to see you happy.”
“I’m ecstatic, Hildy, good night.”
Hildy smiled and turned down the hall. Eliza sank back into the couch.
Jamey would have said to pick me.
You bastard, what a low blow.
And Jamey has no say in this, Eliza thought. Jamey abandoned his post.
Jamey, Teddy, Davey—all abandoned their posts.
She patted the couch and called Daisy up beside her. The dog had been sleeping on one of the chairs, but now leapt up to Eliza’s lap.
“What do you think, Daze, is this the start of a good year? At least for Hildy?”
“Yes,” Eliza answered for the dog.
“Easy street from here on out? No more injuries or crises?”
Daisy licked her hand. Eliza thought later if she’d interpreted that as a yes, the dog definitely would have been wrong.
34
Eliza looked over her article for Adventure Girl one last time. She thought of Katie Jackson and the other girls in her group. Would they like it? Would they feel inspired?
GET THE CONFIDENCE HABIT—NOW!
You feel like such a geek sometimes—who doesn’t? You’re still torturing yourself over the stupid thing you said to that cute guy a few days ago. Or maybe you’re dreading that speech you have to give in World Events. Stop suffering! The first step to being more confident is acting like you already are. Who says only Hollywood actresses get the cool parts? You can start acting like the bold, confident heroine of your own life story right now.
Things to practice alone:
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1. Nothing spells confidence like looking people straight in the eye. If you’re not used to it, it’s hard! The good news is it’s something you can learn with just a little practice. Start by holding up a mirror and looking yourself in the eye. Okay so far? Now start talking. Try reciting the alphabet. You can’t look away until you get to Z. Did you do it? Then move on to something harder, like holding an imaginary conversation with—gulp—that cutie you’ve been dreaming about. Pretend you’re looking him in the eye. Don’t break your gaze!
2. Do you walk around with your arms crossed, back hunched, trying to hide from the world? Would a true Adventure Girl do that? Have some backbone—a straight one, that is. Pretend you’re completely comfortable wherever you are. It takes practice! Start by changing how you stand around your pals. Instead of leaning against a wall or biting your nails or twirling your hair in your fingers, stand tall with your arms hanging free. Practice walking that way, too. It might feel awkward at first, but soon you’ll start to feel as comfortable and confident as you look.
Eliza read through the rest of the piece. It wasn’t bad, for a quick morning’s work. She attached it to an e-mail to the editor of the magazine, and shut the lid to her laptop.
It was after eleven o’clock. Safe enough. The sun had burned off the morning freeze, and Eliza was anxious to feel fresh air on her face. She changed into long johns, water-resistant pants, hiking shoes, and her fleece coat, then summoned the dog.
Daisy had adapted easily to the new schedule: a quick backyard session early in the morning to relieve herself, then breakfast and a nap and sentry duty at the windows, then later, just before lunchtime, the walk.
Eliza knew she was a hypocrite. Telling girls to be confident, be bold, talk to that cute guy—when she’d done everything in her power to avoid running into David since October . But preteen girls wouldn’t understand. The rules were different when you were older.
Eliza was happy she’d worn the water-resistant pants—something she’d bought long ago for cross-country skiing. Even though there hadn’t been fresh snow for several days, there were still pockets of it that she had to slush through.
As she let Daisy drag her up the hill, Eliza checked off the list in her head: article on simplifying your life for the spring cleaning issue of the over-50 women’s magazine; gear review for Outdoor Adventure; three chapters of the book about Jamey.
It was that last one that left a knot in her stomach.
“Eliza! How are you?”
Eliza hadn’t spoken to her book editor for over six months.
“How’s the research going?” Christy asked her.
“It’s great. It’s really coming along.” Eliza hated lying to people, but sometimes she had to make exceptions.
“I’d really love to see some of it,” Christy said. Then she dropped the fake cheerfulness and got right down to business. “It would be good if I had something to show the publishing director by the beginning of December. Are we still on track for a March deadline?”
“Pretty close,” Eliza told her, her mouth dry. “How many chapters do you need now?”
“Three would be good. Five would be even better.”
“Okay, well I’m glad you called,” Eliza lied. “I’ll put together what I have and send it you in a few weeks.”
“Wonderful,” Christy said. “Everything okay there? How do you like living in my part of the world?”
“Cold, windy, wet—you people are hardy up here.”
“Said the woman who once spent five weeks in a tent in Alaska. Hope that’s showing up somewhere in the book.”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” Eliza said, pressing her hand to her heart. The organ was pumping hard enough that she wondered whether Christy could hear it through the phone. “Well, back to work,” she said. “Thanks for calling.”
Then she’d hung up and vented with a shout. Daisy looked up in alarm. Hildy, who’d been listening to the conversation, wasn’t rattled.
“How far are you?”
“Chapter one,” Eliza answered. “Maybe bits of chapter two.”
“Hmm.”
“Yeah.”
Eliza stared out the window at the blustery sky. “Guess that book isn’t going to write itself.”
“Probably not,” Hildy said.
Eliza got up from the table and went into her bedroom. She came back with a thin manila folder—too thin. She’d barely collected any material.
“Want my advice?” Hildy asked.
Eliza blew out a breath. “Sure.”
“Think about whether you really want to write this book.”
“That’s easy,” Eliza said. “I don’t. Obviously, since I haven’t.”
“Well, then...”
“Well, then, what?” Eliza asked. “They’ve already paid me for it.”
“Just the down payment,” Hildy reminded her. “You could always pay it back.”
Considering that Eliza had set a goal for herself to pitch three articles a week to all the various magazines she had ever worked for, hoping to boost her income so she could afford all the plane tickets her new bicoastal life would require, paying back a book advance didn’t make much economic sense.
“I’ll write it,” Eliza said. “It’s good that she called. I needed the kick.”
* * *
Daisy sniffed at a dead patch of grass poking out of the snow. Eliza didn’t try to rush her. Three chapters in the next two or three weeks—just the thought of it made her ill.
Where had the time gone? If she thought back, month to month, she could probably reconstruct it. But the real loss had been not working on it over the summer. She had all that time to herself when she was in Henderson, and she had wasted it thinking about David.
Then there was Hildy’s accident, and since then Eliza felt she was always on duty. Even with Hildy’s cast off now, her arm was still weak, and Eliza still had to act as driver, cook, maid, and teaching assistant.
They had another class that night: Easy Thanksgiving Side Dishes. Roasted Brussels sprouts, sweet potato chips and cranberry salsa, sage scones. Since most of them involved baking rather than something Hildy could demonstrate on a plug-in burner, she and Eliza would be preparing the food ahead of time and reheating it in the Walsh’s oven.
There had been three classes since Eliza ran into David and Livia, and she’d never seen them again. Each time she rolled Hildy’s cart into the store, Eliza’s throat clenched. She rehearsed what she might say, and usually came up with nothing: She’d say nothing. Let David try to initiate a conversation for once. She was tired of being the only one fumbling all the time.
She dreaded running into Livia even more than him. Ever since their coffee date, Eliza couldn’t help replaying the highlights: We’re more internal. We take them into our bodies. David is so...physical. For him to take her back after she’d slept with his brother—what kind of standards did he have? And how was it possible Eliza hadn’t met them?
That’s what troubled her most, she thought: the fact that he could have chosen that pretentious, preening, cheating woman over Eliza.
The fact that he could have chosen anyone over her at all.
Eliza knew what she was doing, knew she shouldn’t, pretended she wasn’t. But just thinking about him right then made her feel suddenly angry again. Angry enough to really want to steep in it.
It was like feeling sore after a long day of climbing or hiking, and massaging her fingers deep into her most painful spots. It hurt, but in a delicious sort of way. In part, she thought, because she knew where that hurt came from, and felt satisfied that she’d earned it.
“Come on, Daisy. Let’s go look at the house.”
They stood down the path from it, close enough to see his gate, far enough away that she could escape if she saw anyone around. What she really wanted to do was look into his garage. See if Livia’s black Lexus was there. Really feel disgusted and angry.
Did he arrange his schedule for her the way he had wi
th Eliza? Work from home some days so he could make love to her in between phone calls? He was so physical, he must have. So external, mechanical, men move on, don’t they?
“Eliza?”
They even took Daisy by surprise. She twisted around and launched against Bear her full-throated assault.
Eliza was grateful to have something to do. “Daisy! Stop it!” She knelt down beside Hildy’s dog and kept her eyes on David’s shoes. They were wetter than hers were, soaked from the edges almost to the top. The bottom of his sweats were wet, too. He must have run through snow at some point. Maybe that’s how he’d sneaked up on her.
She had to get out of there, tried to think of an elegant way to do it, couldn’t. “Sorry to bother you,” she mumbled, and pulled the barking, lunging dog back up the path.
“How are you?” David asked.
“Fine. Daisy! That’s enough!”
Nothing spells confidence like looking people straight in the eye. If you’re not used to it, it’s hard!
Eliza tried to walk fast without looking like she was running away. Pretend you’re completely comfortable wherever you are. It takes practice! She dragged Daisy back up the hill.
When they were far enough away, Eliza paused to catch her breath.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She looked back to make sure he hadn’t followed.
But of course he hadn’t, she thought. He’d simply caught her in that pathetic act of spying, and was probably laughing to himself about it right now.
Laughing with Livia.
“Is she still hanging around?”
“It’s not as if I encourage her.”
“Women are more emotional. We take you men into our bodies...”
“Like this?”
“Just like that.”
Eliza trudged on against the wind.
35
“This doesn’t sound like you,” Frank Sawyer said, looking up from the two-paged printout he’d just finished reading.
“In what way?” Eliza asked, biting the edge of a fingernail.
“You’re so...stuck up,” Frank said. “No...formal. Like you don’t know us and we don’t know you.”
