by Karen Gordon
I’m ready to get the hell out of Durham, so I call the JetStream flight department to see how soon I can get a plane home. It looks like Jack beat me to the punch. There’s a plane already in route to pick him up so I cancel my Friday night flight plan and tell them I’ll be coming home with Jack. I leave off that Savanah will be joining us too. This should be fun.
✈✈✈
I have to convince Savanah to fly home with me. She doesn’t want to upset Jack. But I convince her to by reminding her that he will be in a fantastic mood. He just dodged a bullet and should be in the mood to see her and party.
We move fast, getting our bags, checking out and getting to the airport. We haven’t told Jack we are coming and we don’t want the plane to leave without us. We get there with ten minutes to spare, then wait another half hour for Jack to show up. We know he’s arrived when the pilots turn off the alternative power and switch to engine power. Savanah and I are strapped into the first two seats, laughing about the look we’ll see on Jack’s face when he sees us. We’re trying to decide if we should yell, “Surprise,” when we see him in the doorway, only it’s not Jack, it’s Joel.
The normal amount of nervous tension I feel around him is ratcheted up tenfold. I’m stowing away on his flight and I’ve brought along Jack’s party buddy to complete the unprofessional picture.
He looks just as surprised to see us as we do him, but he recovers quickly. “Vivienne, I didn’t know you were flying back today.”
“I, um, I,” think, damn it, think! “Mr. Alfonse said I wasn’t needed, so when I called the office they said that a plane was coming for Jack, and I need to get home, and…” I’m rambling but I can’t seem to shut up. Fear and embarrassment have taken over my mouth. “Well, I mean I can get another flight, or we could get another flight. This is Jack’s friend, Savanah.”
He raises his eyebrows and nods as he assesses her. I want to die for her.
Savanah and I are both gathering our stuff to get off the plane A.S.A.P. “We’ll just get a commercial flight or take the train or”
He walks forward blocking my exit. “Not necessary. In fact, I need to talk to you.” He finally addresses Savanah. “I’m sure Jack’s friend won’t mind using the conference table.”
I hope she understands that he means for her to get up and take herself and her stuff to the mid-plane area, away from us. I have a feeling she is in his seat. I hop up to help her. “Not a problem. Right, Savanah?” She nods and we both move aft. As I set her shopping bags down on the table, I lean in and whisper, “I am so sorry. I had no idea.” She’s too scared to talk, but nods as she searches for her seat belt.
I pretend to help her with her seat settings, delaying spending time with Joel. “Count your blessings. At least you don’t have to sit with him.”
We both laugh at a whisper level.
When I get back I adjust my seat, so it’s completely upright and positioned as far away from Joel as possible. Across the aisle, he swings to face me and locks it in. I realize that I’ll have to do the same or it will look like I’m ignoring him.
There is the usual last minute shuffling of bags into the cargo area and preflight checks before the pilots close the door and taxi for the runway. I have no idea what to do with myself. Do I read a magazine? Make small talk? I’m so tense I’m having trouble getting a full breath. Joel, on the other hand, is his usual relaxed self, alternately looking out the window and checking things on his phone. He doesn’t address me until we are in flight. He starts by getting up and closing the door between our seats and the conference area where Savanah is sitting.
Before he sits down he offers, “Can I get you a drink?” He walks to the galley and opens the liquor cabinet.
“Coke Zero, Diet Coke?” Something to wash down this lump in my throat would be great.
He hands me a soda, then pours himself a shot of liquor. I get the feeling this has been a trying week for him and he’s celebrating it being over. When he sits back down the pleasantries and chit-chat are over.
“Jack is headed to New York today. He’ll be there for a few days. He should be back in the office late next week.”
We break through the clouds into full sun right as Joel is telling me that I can not only attend Dom’s wedding with no Jack-moments, but I’ll have a few days to recover too. I swear I hear a chorus of angels singing. I don’t hide my relief and Joel catches it.
His smile is conspiratorial. “Jack wearing you out?”
Oops. Guess I looked a little too happy to be rid of his son for a few days. “He has his moments, but generally we’re in stride, getting up to speed.”
It’s pretty obvious he isn’t buying my PC answer. He ignores it and moves on with his agenda. “Things will be different when Jack returns.”
I feel like a kid whose been busted. My heart and breathing stop as I wait for him to chew me out for Jack’s lack of real progress.
But he doesn’t seem angry, more resolute. Something tells me he had a come-to-Jesus meeting with Jack recently. “He’s meeting with a friend of mine in New York, Mikka Anderson. She’s does PR for us. She’ll be going over the image and conduct Jack needs to become CEO.”
I nod my approval, as if he needs it.
“Mikka might call you to involve you. I gave her your number.”
I try to look excited about this adventure, but I quickly translate that to mean, you’ll probably be standing at the alter at your best friend’s wedding fielding calls from another of Jack’s baby-sitters. “I’ll do whatever I can.”
He locks me down with a sincere look. “I know you will.” He glances toward the conference area where Savanah is sitting behind the closed door. “I’ve seen her before.”
“Savanah?”
“Is that her name? She’s been around Jack a lot lately. What’s your take on her?”
I can’t believe he just asked me about Jack’s love life. I’m tempted to tell him the truth. Well, sir, she’s a smart girl who is tolerating your son’s shitty skills in bed and sticking by the lame child more than he deserves. What he really wants to know if she’s another law suit waiting to happen so I edit that down. “They’re just friends.”
I don’t think Joel is up on the friends-with-benefits idea because he looks at me like I’m full of shit. “I mean they’re not dating. It’s really casual.” This seems to allay his worries, but I feel the need to add, “She’s good for him. She rode the train to Durham on her own dime to support him.”
He glances back at the closed door as he processes this. “You offered her a ride home?”
It doesn’t sound accusatory, so I admit that I did. “Jack wasn’t in a great mood and kind of took it out on her. I found her in the lobby, without a room, so I had her stay with me. I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t know anyone else would be on the flight.”
I take his slight chuckle as approval. Then he shakes his head. “Jack needs to learn who his allies are.” He’s cryptic, as usual, but I take it to mean that Savanah and I are on that list and Jack needs to appreciate us more. I’ll drink to that.
Chapter Twelve
I didn’t hear from the PR lady, or Jack for the entire weekend. Not a peep. As I’m putting the final touches on Dom’s hair, I decide it must be the work of my dad. I look up and thank him. Dom does too. And we both laugh at the idea of Big Mike the angel, because we’re excited and giddy and generally acting like two school girls getting ready for a dance.
Her room is full of female relatives, hundreds of yards of satin and tulle, overpowering perfume and a cloud of hairspray. I stop and soak it all in feeling incredibly lucky to be here and be a part of all this. Although, technically, I have no family, I know that this is my family. Dom is my sister, her mom my surrogate, her aunts, uncles and cousins my family too.
I even feel kind of close to Dom’s dad today. Her parents have been divorced since I’ve known her and the only times I’ve really been around him was at his restaurant where he was too busy or uninterested
in Dom’s silly little friend. At the rehearsal dinner last night, he was overcome with emotions and hugged me. I hugged him back hard, because I was so damn happy that he put aside his problems with Dom’s mom so Dom could have a beautiful, happy day. Anyone who puts Dom first gets rare affection from me.
He even accepted the wedding notebook I made for him although I’m not sure he’ll use it. I made one for everyone involved in the wedding, so they would know where they need to be, when and what they need to be wearing. I included addresses, maps, phone numbers and a roster with photos so everyone would know each other and their roles. A few of Luis’s friends tossed around words like OCD when I passed them out, but Dom loved it and appreciated it and she’s the one that counts.
And I’m not saying that it’s because of my books, but her wedding is perfect. Now that we are here, lined up across the front of the church I feel like I can finally relax a little. I don’t think I’ve taken a deep breath since Jack made me go to Durham and I worried about missing this.
Dom catches my eye and I wink at her. She is in her element, surrounded by family, wearing a very large, very traditional dress with a full veil and long train. Everything about today says that Dominga Sonia Villareal is all about tradition and family. As we’ve prepared for today over the past year a bunch of her aunts and cousins have told me to get ready because my turn will be next or that it will be me in the bride’s dress before I know it. I can’t say I’m running away from that, but I can’t say that’s what I want either. I’m not ready to give up my own place. I just got it decorated exactly the way I like it. And Jack may drive me insane, but I love my job and I don’t want to worry that I’m ignoring someone at home when I’ve got to put in the hours.
But seeing Dom at the alter with Luis one thing is clear to me. This is where we head in different directions and I worry what that will do to us. I need her and up until now she’s needed me. I want to stay part of her life. Luis and their kids will come first, but I want to make sure I’m still in the picture.
Our freshman year of high school we used to say, “CBD.” It was our code to remind each other that we would put Chicks Before Dicks. And we did, until Luis, until my job. We were kind enough to each other to let it go. Neither of us guilted the other for changing and growing and I’m not going to start now. But part of me wants to say, “CBD” and remind her that I count, that I need her too, that I don’t want to be left out. I won’t. I’ll trust her and trust our friendship, that we can weather all these changes and still be together.
The Priest’s voice changes and I snap out of my reverie. It’s time for me to take Dom’s bouquet and straighten her train so she can turn to Luis and make her vows. Right now, she needs me to do my maid-of-honor duties and I’m damn honored to do them for her.
✈✈✈
I’d spent so much time creating the wedding schedule notebooks I didn’t even need to consult one to know when each part of the reception would happen. I consider using that knowledge to avoid the bouquet toss, but I suck it up and participate for Dom. It’s as mortifying as I feared. I’m the only female vying for the bouquet who is over twelve, and I’m at least a foot taller than the other competitors. I scan the group for Dom’s little cousin, Angela, who I love. My plan is to deflect it in her direction because, to be honest, I don’t want it. I know it’s just superstition, but the curse of being next is still too scary for me to take chances.
Angela catches the bouquet I send her way and I dash off the dance floor to get a drink from the bar. I deserve a huge reward for submitting to that degradation. On the way back to my table Dom’s mom, Lucca waves me over.
“You didn’t catch the bouquet?” She’s being sarcastic because she knows me so well.
“And after I tried so hard.” She swats me gently on the butt and laughs.
“You don’t need it anyway.”
“What? You think I’ll be next whether I catch it or not?” I’m dying to see where Lucca goes with this. She’s wise. She reads people really well, especially someone she’s known as long as me. I need some of her sage words right now.
She laughs loudly again. Lucca has clearly had a few and is feeling rambunctious. I love it.
“You, oh hell no, what would you do with a husband? He would only get in your way.”
Wow, harsh but true.
“Dom’s told me about what’s going on at your work.” She rubs my shoulder. “You amaze me. How you handle it all.”
I pick up her copy of the wedding organization notebook. “This is how I handle it all. I believe it’s called OCD.”
She’s laughing but shaking her head no. “Not OCD, it’s your gift. You use it to take care of Dom and now to have this high-powered job. You use it to help people.”
She was right, of course, but it didn’t make me feel much better about my job. I was wearing myself out using it on someone who didn’t deserve it. Lucca questions my obvious frustration.
“It doesn’t make you happy? Your job?”
I shrug. “Sometimes, right now I feel like I’m trapped in a golden noose.”
She nods her understanding and takes a drink of her cocktail as she contemplates my situation. “You play by the rules too much.” She finally announces.
This is not the advice I was expecting from my surrogate mother. “I what?”
“You’re too careful, you follow the rules and you get run over by those who are not following the rules.”
OK, I’m not a huge risk taker, but I still can’t believe wise Lucca sees this as the solution to my problems.
“I love structure.” I shrug. “Can’t help it.”
“Sure, structure is good, but sometimes you have to push beyond it, push beyond where you feel comfortable.”
I nod my agreement, but only because it’s too much for me to think about right now. Lucca can see that I haven’t really bought into what she said.
She pops me on the arm. “See that man over there?” I look in the direction she is pointing and see a nice looking man laughing with a group of guys.
“Yeah, I see him.”
“Go ask him to dance.”
I smirk at her. “I don’t really want to dance.”
She pops me on the arm again. “Bullshit. You love to dance and you almost never do. You busy yourself with the dance decorations or refilling punch bowls and don’t put yourself out there. Go ask him to dance. He will be flattered.”
God damn it, she’s right and it hurts a little. She’s nailing me on a part of myself that I think I hide with all my business.
She pushes my drink in front of me. “I want you to down this, then walk over there with your head high. Don’t you dare slink. Walk over there like you know how amazing you are, because you are. Dance with him, grab him and kiss him on the dance floor, hell, take him out back and have your way with him. Break the rules my Vivey. It’s the way out of our golden noose.”
Maybe she’s right, but I’m still glued to my seat. It all sounds great in theory, but the reality of pushing beyond my solid, carefully constructed walls is terrifying.
She pushes the drink at me one more time, then she downs the rest of hers and stands up. “Watch me.”
Oh, I am. “What are you going to do?”
“I am going to make my ex dance with me because he is a great dancer…and, why the hell not.”
I laugh and give her two thumbs up. As she walks away from the table, she gives me the sign that she will be watching me and points again to the man across the room. I blow out a tense breath, but nod that I understand.
Chapter Thirteen
I did ask the guy to dance, and we did. His name was Doc, or at least that’s what everyone calls him. He was a good dancer and sweet, but I begged off after a few fast numbers. I didn’t feel a strong connection and just approaching him and asking him to dance was enough boundary-pushing for one night.
I stuck around long enough to hug and kiss the Bride and Groom when they left. They are staying in one of the suites
at the Mansion tonight, a hotel only a few blocks from my apartment. It feels strange when I get home; knowing my best friend is right down the street and decorum keeps me from talking to her. They will be leaving for their honeymoon cruise in the morning so it would be more than a week before I can talk to her again. Ouch.
I try to fight the sadness that envelopes me—no Dad, no Danny, no Dom. I don’t even have a pet. Maybe I need to get one.
The spring air is fairly warm, so I open the French doors to my tiny balcony and look out over Forsyth Park. It’s quiet enough this late that I can hear the splashing of the big fountain. I should go to bed, but Lucca has me thinking. Should I be more of a rule-breaker? Where would I be right now if I was? Screwing Doc is guess--which would be nice. He’s nice looking and would probably be nice in bed. But that’s just it. I don’t want nice. I don’t want to settle. I don’t settle. I look until I find what’s perfect for me. I have the perfect apartment for me, decorated exactly the way I want it and it makes me damn happy…most of the time. I have the perfect car for me and, until Jack, I had the perfect job for me.
Jack, ugh. I throw my head back in frustration. Maybe I am the perfect secretary for him, but he’s not my ideal boss. He will be back from New York in a few days and supposedly a changed man. That PR firm better have a shit-ton of magic pixy dust to change him into CEO material.
I don’t want to think about Jack right now. I want a happy thought. I smile when memories of Danny push their way forward--memories of sex with Danny, memories of not-nice sex—pissed-off, angry, hot sex on our last morning at his house. Sure, we were both mad, but we were also passionate. He put up one hell of a good fight against my will and I liked it. No, I loved it. Despite the way we ended, I still believe that he’s my perfect man. I don’t want to compromise with someone who is just…nice.
✈✈✈
The new, improved version of Jack showed up two days later and had my head spinning. I get a text from him on my way into work, at least two or three hours earlier than I’ve ever heard from him before.
