by Holly Jacobs
Morgan saw Nikki wince at the sound, but couldn't help a small squeal of her own as they all three hugged.
"Where's Tessa?" she asked, as they settled at the large round table. She took her seat between Nikki and Sunny without even thinking. It was her seat, and she knew that even when she wasn't home, it was there, waiting for her. Just as Tess's seat was empty now. Waiting.
And then there was Gina's. . . .
Morgan refused to let thoughts of her ex-friend spoil the reunion.
"Tess is always late, if she comes at all," Sunny Paterniti said. Blond, stunning, but more rounded since their college days, Sunny took Morgan's hand, giving it a squeeze. "She'd have been here if she'd known you were home. I just found out myself yesterday, when your mom mentioned it. Normally, I'd have known the minute you arrived, but Annabelle hasn't been herself since she took over running the store. She's spending so much time in the back office we don't get to chat like we normally do."
"How long are you here for?" Nikki asked.
"I'm here indefinitely," Morgan admitted.
"Staying with Annabelle?" Nikki asked.
"No. Uncle Auggie left me his house. Living right next door to Mom is about as close as I can manage. I thought I'd just have Mom sell it, but she's been swamped at the Chair and Dish Rental and hadn't gotten to it yet. I guess it was for the best. I'm able to use it now while I look for a new job."
"So what happened?" Nikki asked.
Morgan gave them an abbreviated version of her laid-off, looking for a new job but not a new love spiel.
Their commiseration over her downsizing and breakup with Marvin felt like a balm, soothing small hurts she hadn't even known she was nursing.
"So fill me in on what's going on with both of you," she said, not wanting to talk about the life in San Diego that she'd lost—the life she was determined to get back.
Sunny dug in her purse and pulled out a wallet. "Johnny's almost a year now and brilliant, if I do say so myself."
"And you can be sure she'll say so again and again," Nikki teased.
"Hey, I can't help it if my kid's a genius. He's already saying Mama."
Morgan wasn't sure saying Mama constituted brilliant, but she didn't say so. "Most babies can't talk at this age?"
"Not before their first birthday, but Johnny's brilliant, remember?" Nikki grinned as Sunny shot her a mama-bear look.
"I can't wait until you get to know him. He's just going to love his Auntie Morgan." Sunny launched into a momfest monologue, but Morgan thought what she wasn't saying was the most telling.
She talked about her son, about her job, about her friends.
Sunny wasn't saying a word about a man in her life. To the best of Morgan's knowledge, there hadn't been so much as a date since Johnny's father had walked out on her.
Sunny seemed as bright and chipper as normal, but Morgan listened for some hint of sadness. If there was any, her friend covered it well. Was she still pining over Johnny's father, the jerk who'd left her without so much as a backward glance?
Morgan decided not to beat around the bush. "So, any men in your life?"
"No, no men. I'm not looking. Between Oakland CDR and Johnny, I don't have the time or the inclination."
"The day I stop inclining is the day you can pull the plug," Nikki vowed. "And don't even get me started on Sunny's wasting her education at the Chair and Dish Rental."
Nikki picked up the threads of the old argument, and again Morgan was hit with a sense that nothing had changed in the last five years.
Except for maybe Morgan herself.
She felt like a square peg trying to fit back into a round hole.
"Actually, it is a great use of my education," Sunny corrected, glaring at Nikki.
Okay, maybe not everything had stayed the same.
Back in the old days, Sunny hadn't become ruffled.
And glaring?
It just hadn't been in her nature.
But somewhere over the last few years, Sunny had obviously toughened. And Morgan had missed her metamorphosis.
What else had she missed?
Before she could ask more questions and try to find out, Nikki said, "Nothing much has changed with me, either."
"Except for men." Sunny used a teasing tone, but there was a hint of retaliation in what she said. "A new one every week, that's our Nik."
Nikki didn't seem to take offense. She just grinned. "Hey, I figure, statistically, my chances of finding Mr. Right are better if I play the field."
"But you'll never know if a man could be right unless you stick around for more than a date or two," Sunny said.
"I'll know the right one when I find him. And I guarantee he wasn't last night's date. The man still lives with his mother and proudly admitted he'd never done his own laundry. Not ever. He's in his thirties."
Before Nikki could go off on one of her man diatribes, Morgan asked, "How about work?"
"I'm still writing my column for the paper." Nikki had interned at the Pittsburgh Press while they were still in college. "That's what last night was really about—next week's column. It's on Pittsburgh's newest hot spot, aptly enough named Hot Spot. It's in the strip district. And let me tell you, they make a mean apple martini."
Sunny turned the tables on Morgan by asking, "So, what have you been doing since you got back? Because you obviously haven't been calling us. We still wouldn't have known you were home if Annabelle hadn't finally mentioned it at work yesterday."
"I was going to call as soon as I had things in order."
"You're still an order freak, eh?" Nikki asked. "Bet you have a list."
"Lists, heavy emphasis on the plural," Sunny added.
"Maybe a small list. The first week was filled with the move and trying to get nominally settled. This last week, I wrote a killer résumé, sent it out, walked the dog. . .and crashed a party."
She'd known that would get them.
Sunny pounced on it first. "Crashed a party? That doesn't sound like you."
"No, but it does sound like my mom's idea of a good time." She filled them in on Penny and Sam's reception, and meeting Conner Danning, ending with, "So I asked him out. Said I wanted to pick his brain about business."
"Oh, you've done me proud," Nikki gushed. "So what excuse are you going to give him?"
"I thought I'd use the family business. Okay, it's really just become the family business, and it's Mom's rather than mine, but still, she's family, so it's not a big lie. I thought I'd tell him I was thinking of expanding beyond just chairs and dishes into renting other wedding and party supplies. That gives me an excuse for wanting to go to other receptions with him so I can gather ideas."
"Why didn't you just ask if he'd be interested in being your boy toy while you're home?" Nikki asked. "I mean, I've discovered most men don't mind a bit of noncommitment fun."
"Most men prefer it," Sunny said softly.
Morgan would like to hunt down Sunny's ex for putting that thread of pain into her friend's voice.
"I wouldn't know how to propose boy toying," she confessed. "I've been dating Marvin for so long, I'm not sure I remember how to start a new relationship, even a casual one."
"You've been not dating Marvin for just as long as you've been dating him," Nikki said with a grin.
"So we had a tumultuous relationship."
"Had?" Sunny asked. "As in, it's off again?"
"For good this time," Morgan said. "It should have been off for good soon after we started dating, but he was comfortable. I mean, he drove me crazy, but there's truth to the devil-you-know theory."
"So, rather than come right out and tell this photographer you're in town just long enough to get a new job, and are looking for a good bone-jumping while you're here, you're going to follow him around and pretend to do research you don't need to do?" Nikki asked.
"When you put it like that it doesn't sound like such a great idea, does it? But really, researching new avenues for the business is a great idea. Oakland Chair a
nd Dish Rental has always brought in a living, but there have to be other, untapped rental opportunities. I'm going to head over to the store tomorrow and see what's changed and then maybe find some ways for my mother to make a difference."
"I still think you should just tell this guy you want him," Nikki said good-naturedly. "After all, when you pick up a guy while crashing a party, you can tell him anything you want."
What did she want?
Morgan didn't think she wanted to just jump his bones, regardless of the fact he sparked for her.
What she wanted was to get out of Pittsburgh and head back to San Diego and a new job.
Actually, what she wanted was to go back to her old life there, and she knew that wasn't going to happen.
Things were changing.
And she didn't like it at all.
"You know," Nikki said slowly, "party crashing. . . that's not such a bad idea. The bar scene is getting more than a little old."
"I'm not crashing anything," Sunny blurted.
"And it could be a fun column for the paper," Nikki continued. "Party Crashing. . .the New Dating Scene?" Morgan could practically see her brain at work as she murmured, "You know, that's not bad."
"What's not bad?" a new voice asked.
Everyone turned toward Tessa, a statuesque woman sporting designer slacks, a soft cream-colored blouse and a much shorter haircut than in the past. It took her a moment to spot Morgan. When she did there was a new wave of shrieking and hugging.
"Come on, you guys," Nikki muttered, despite the fact she'd been in the thick of the hugging. "The problem with having women friends is their voices are high enough not to be very sympathetic to hangover victims."
"You did it to yourself," Tess said, taking her seat. "That means you're no victim and as such don't get any sympathy."
"And here I was, about to ask you out on a little adventure," Nikki informed her.
They all talked at once, filling in each other's sentences as they caught Tessa up on why Morgan was home and the idea Nikki had for her newest article.
Morgan listened, smiling, the knowledge that she was well and truly home finally sinking in. She might want to get back to her life in San Diego, but she'd been right—her heart was here in Pittsburgh.
CHAPTER THREE
E.J., I've been reading books, trying to find myself. Currently, I'm reading Jon Kabat-Zinn's Wherever You Go, There You Are. It hasn't answered my burning question, how did I get here, and how do I get out?
ON MONDAY, FEELING AS IF she was indeed sliding down a rabbit hole into chaos, Morgan tried to figure out how to get back in control.
Returning to Pittsburgh temporarily had been quite an adjustment. Morgan actually slept in until nine one morning, and she hadn't walked once since she'd arrived. When she did exercise, it mainly consisted of hurrying toward a table where a waiter would bring her coffee and a pastry.
Worst of all, she felt she'd lost sight of her goals.
Morgan knew herself well enough to realize she functioned better with a clearly defined plan. So she tried to lay it out in her mind. For starters, she wanted to be home in San Diego before E.J. got back from his current stint abroad.
She was right on track for that. She'd sent out a million resumes the previous week. Okay, not a million, but it felt like it. She'd used every contact she had to network her way into a new job.
Jeremiah, her old boss, had actually made a few calls on her behalf, and sent her some contacts who might be interested in a midlevel manager looking for an opportunity to advance.
So, goal number one—get a new job—was on track.
Goal number two. . .more than the new job and the new challenge, she wanted her old life back. Pittsburgh was all right for a visit—better than she'd thought it would be, actually—but she wouldn't want to live here forever.
With her mind racing, Morgan decided to start her day off by walking over to the store. While one short walk wouldn't fight off her jobless lassitude it was a few steps toward getting back to her old outlook.
Exercise. Work hard. Have well-defined goals.
So she walked.
Oakland Chair and Dish Rental was about twenty minutes away from the Squirrel Hill district. She thought about really jumping back into her life and jogging over, but didn't want to arrive all sweaty, so she settled for walking fast.
She'd made this exact trip almost daily when she was younger—through the hilly residential area of old brick homes. Gradually some apartments appeared, and finally Forbes Avenue, with all its hustle and bustle.
She walked past Carnegie Mellon University, past the museum and finally past the cathedral. Morgan loved walking by the massive stone building, so tall and majestic. She used to bring her homework over to the grassy park in front of it and study in its shadow.
She thought about walking through for old times' sake, but decided to wait. Maybe she'd get some lunch later and come sit in its shadow once again.
Passing the cathedral, she arrived in front of Oakland Chair and Dish Rental.
It hadn't changed since those earlier days. Maybe it was a little shabbier. The sign in front could use updating, and a good coat of paint would do wonders for the exterior of the small office front on Forbes.
She wondered about the state of the huge warehouse a few blocks away on Oakland Avenue, which housed OCDR's supplies.
When Morgan opened the door, the bell chimed merrily in the empty reception area, which, she noted could use a touch of paint as well. Walls that had once been a bright white had faded to a muted ecru. The front counter was cluttered with display books and papers. The small seating area held odds and ends from the rental business, and three-year-old magazines.
She pulled a small book out of her purse and started to take notes, almost sighing with contentment. Another list. . . Yes, she was really getting back to normal.
Paint was the top priority. She walked behind the counter, looking for a computer, but didn't see one. Maybe it was in Uncle Auggie's office? Scratch that. She had to start thinking of all this as her mom's. So, maybe it was in her mother's office? Wherever it was, Morgan would be willing to bet it was years out of date.
"Hi, honey." Annabelle came out of the back room, wearing a skintight green shirt that didn't do much for her complexion, but certainly emphasized her bra size. "I was going to call you this afternoon."
"Then I'm glad I stopped by. I wanted to check out the store." Morgan turned in a circle. "Nothing's changed."
Sunny emerged from the back room as well. "Ah, but I'm sure before the end of your stay you'll have a few suggestions, won't you? Maybe even a few ideas about how to expand the business?"
Morgan tucked the book into her open purse. "You know, that wouldn't be such a bad idea, Susan." Using Sunny's real name had the intended effect.
Her friend's perpetual smile slipped a notch. "That's Sunny. I know you've been gone a long time, so I guess you've forgotten that I go by Sunny."
Her friend tried to glare, but it only made Morgan laugh. At the sound, Sunny relented and laughed with her. "Don't start with me, Morgan," she warned with mock ferocity.
"Wouldn't think of it, Sunny."
Annabelle interrupted the teasefest. "Come into the back, honey, would you?"
Morgan followed her into the office at the rear of the shop. The room had been neat as a pin when Uncle Auggie had been in charge. Annabelle obviously had a different business style. One that included quite a bit of chaos.
"I was going to call you about a business question. Well, not a question, but more of a favor." Her mother seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. "You see, I had a visit from a man who's interested in buying me out and I would like your input."
"Are you interested in selling?"
The thought of OCDR leaving the family hadn't occurred to Morgan. Now that her mother had brought up the possibility, she realized how very little she liked it.
She'd known for years that Uncle Auggie planned to hand over the store to her
mom and Morgan had expected it to always be a part of her life, just as it always had been. She had grown up hanging out here; working at OCDR had been her first job. Her friends had visited here.
She'd met Thomas here, not that that was a great memory. Oh, meeting him was, but the pain of leaving him tainted her enjoyment of the others.
But good memories or bad ones, Oakland Chair and Dish Rental was part of home.
"I don't know if I could sell it," her mother said. "But I'm not sure I actually want to run it. I didn't think owning rather than just working here would make that much of a difference, but it does. I was content handling sales. Being in charge is so much more time consuming. And ultimately, every decision rests with me. I just don't know if I want to keep at it. What if I make a mistake and ruin a business Auggie spent his life building? If I sold the store, maybe I could keep working here for the new owner."
"I couldn't imagine anyone but Uncle Auggie or you running things here. A total stranger at the helm of OCDR?" Morgan shook her head. It just didn't feel right.
"I'm not saying I'll do it, but I thought it made sense to check out the offer. I was hoping you'd do it for me. You know a lot more about business than I do."
"Mom, I don't know if I'm qualified to make this kind of decision for you."
"Not make the decision, just give me an opinion. I'm supposed to meet the man on Thursday. Maybe you could spend the next few days reacquainting yourself with the business. Then you'd be prepared."
"I—"
Her mother cut off her protest by simply asking, "Please? I know that ultimately I have to make the decision, but I would really value your opinion."
Morgan shrugged. "Sure. Why not? I'd wanted to take a look at things anyway, sort of for old times' sake. So why don't you show me the new computer system and I'll get started."
"What new computer system?" Her mother looked at her blankly.
"The one I talked to Uncle Auggie about two, almost three years ago? The one designed to streamline your filing and ordering systems. The one networked with the warehouse."
Her mother smiled and nodded. "Oh, that system."
