We clomped up the stairs, me in front with a huge smile on my face and a warm feeling in my chest. I held my tongue, but it wasn’t easy.
“Oh yeah, how’s Caressa feeling about this whole sleepover debacle?” Lila asked, in that freaked-out Lila voice we all knew and loved. “The trip is bad enough, but a sleepover? She’ll think we replaced her. With a bitch, no less!”
I dumped my overnight gear onto her bed and spun to face her, fists on my hips. “She doesn’t think that at all. First of all, nobody could replace her.”
“Well, true. We know that.”
“Besides, I already told her we’d call her tonight.”
Lila blinked, surprised. “You did?”
I nodded. “And in case you’re wondering, she thought it was sweet of you to throw this party together.”
“It’s not a party,” she grumbled.
“Yes it is,” I said in a calm tone. “Another thing: you’d better stop referring to Jennifer as a bitch, because she’s the guest of honor and we don’t actually think she’s a bitch anymore, remember?”
“Right. Okay.”
“Plus, she’s going to be here in just a few minutes.”
“Oh, God!” The Cheetos bag crunched in her clutches as the panic crested in her expression.
I held both palms up. “Unless you want the whole event to be a nightmare, you’re going to have to calm down. Haven’t we moved past all that drama with Jennifer?”
She nodded…and didn’t stop. She looked like a Lila Moreno bobblehead. I wanted to laugh, but I knew I needed to maintain the calm, cool confidence.
“Yes. You’re right. Okay, how?”
“How what?”
“How do I calm down?” Without warning, the Cheetos bag was thrust against my chest. “And get these away from me before I puke. My stomach is churning enough as it is.”
I carefully folded the top of the bag, then stowed them on top of Lila’s dresser. Someone had to be the voice of reason, maintain the serenity. That role always fell into my lap, incidentally, but I was comfortable with it. “Well,” I started, “why don’t you think back to the moment you invited Jennifer over.” I paused. “What was going through your head then?”
Lila jammed all ten fingers into the front of her hair and paced. At the far end of the room, she spun toward me. “It might’ve been a psychotic episode.”
I laughed that time. Couldn’t help it. It’s gratifying when someone you love reacts true to form. Makes you feel all warm and safe inside. “Come on. Stop it.”
She sagged with the power of her exhale. “Fine. I did it because she seems to be trying. Really trying, you know?”
Now we were getting somewhere. “Good! That’s a great start. So, Jennifer’s trying…to what?”
Lila looked uncertain. “Be a better person?”
I cocked my head. “Statement or question?”
“Statement. I think.” She grimaced. “Plus, it’s her birthday, and I just felt…bad.”
“That’s compassion.” I narrowed my gaze at Lila. “Admit it, you sort of like her.”
“Sort of, I guess. This version of her at least. Jennifer 2.0.” Her eyes widened with worry. “But what if she’s using us? What if she makes fun of my room, or our house? What if I’m nothing more than a stupid, gullible—”
“Stop!” I crossed my arms. “Do you really want to walk through life harboring those kinds of paranoid thoughts?”
A pause. “No, I guess not.”
“You don’t. Trust me.”
“I do trust you.” Lila stepped closer and gripped my upper arms. “That’s the thing. You and Caressa are the only people I trust, Mer. And yet I invited someone from the enemy camp to infiltrate one of our private, sacred rituals.”
The drama was getting out of hand. I pulled her down to sit next to me on the edge of the bed. “Okay, listen. There is no sacred ritual. It’s a sleepover, plain and simple. Pajamas. Junk food. We’re going to paint each other’s toenails.” I waited until I felt certain her overactive imagination had stopped racing, or at least slowed down. “We are extending an olive branch of friendship to a girl who has no one, a girl who has changed and apologized, all that. We’re being the bigger people letting bygones be bygones. That can never be wrong.”
Lila gnawed at her bottom lip, but she nodded.
“And besides, all this time that Jennifer’s been trailing around after me—”
“Single white female,” Lila said, with a touch of scorn.
This confused me. “Excuse me?”
“Never mind. Old movie reference. Go ahead.”
I nodded. Why did the whole world speak in movie and TV references? Sheesh! “Well, let’s just say I have pretty good instincts about people. I don’t think she’s using us to get through to her due date. Honestly. The pregnancy has opened her eyes quite a bit. It’s changed her.”
“Yeah.” Lila snort-chuckled. “Into a chubby girl with brown hair and really gigantic boobs.”
“Lila,” I chastised. But she had a point about the boobs.
“That’s another thing!” Lila spread her arms. “Why does it feel like we’re all pregnant?” she cried. “I’ve never even had sex! I don’t want to be pregnant!”
I smirked. “Empathy. But, fact is, we aren’t pregnant. We’re just caring, trying to put ourselves in her place and understand what it would feel like.”
“It would feel like I needed a much, much bigger bra,” Lila said, her tone serious.
I admit it, I flopped back onto the bed and cracked up.
Eventually, Lila even smiled. Good sign.
When I’d settled down, I said, “It’s one night. Who knows? We might actually learn things about Jennifer we wouldn’t have otherwise.”
“What, like she maintains a state-of-the-art torture chamber in her basement?” Lila muttered. “I always suspected that anyway.”
I giggled again. “No. Maybe we’ll learn that the three of us are more alike than different.”
A pause ensued, and the energy changed subtly.
“You really think so?” Lila asked, sounding vulnerable.
Just then the doorbell gonged.
I hugged my best friend toward me. “Looks like we’re about to find out. Ready?”
Lila huffed out a non-laugh. “No.”
“Bull. You’re totally ready.” I stood, tugging her up with me. “Focus on how special she’s going to feel when we tell her about New York City.”
“Wait!” Lila lunged and grabbed the hem of my T-shirt, stopping me.
“What now?”
Her eyes searched mine, darting back and forth. “Where did that whole ‘olive branch’ saying start anyway?” she asked, as though the question were vitally important to our next move. “I mean, I’d be much more amenable if someone brought me a pound of Dove chocolates or a bag of potato chips.”
I shook my head. Lila’s panic mode was so predictable. If there was a tangent available, she was going to take it. “It’s traditionally a symbol of peace, but I’m not exactly sure. I think it’s biblical. I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Her eyes bugged with pure panic. “What do you mean you don’t know? You always know everything!”
“No, I don’t.” I smacked her on the upper arm. “But, if it makes you feel better, I’ll do some research, okay? I’ll do it tonight, on your computer.”
She released a breath as if I’d just solved every problem of the whole summer—her dad and Chloe, Jennifer and the baby, world peace, and how Burger Wonder could actually have a waiting list for people who wanted to work there—something we’d been puzzling over for months. “Okay. Thanks, Mer. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Meds, I thought. But I was only kidding. “Well, you’ll never have to find out, okay? Because we’re going to be best friends forever.”
The doorbell gonged again.
I raised my eyebrows. “Now or never, Li
la.”
“Right.” She blew out a breath. “I’m better. Now.”
As we bopped down the stairs, I tweaked her waist. “You baked her a cake,” I teased, in a singsong voice.
“Shut up,” Lila said, but a smile flickered at the edges of her mouth. “I told you not to comment.”
“That was then, this is now.”
She scoffed. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just what you do on someone’s birthday.”
“Yes,” I said, pinning her with a knowing look. “But usually only for someone you like.”
For once, Lila didn’t have a reply.
*
Caressa
As I threw my head back and laughed over something Thomas said, I realized that if I’d learned one thing during this NYC summer, it was that you can’t plan the future.
You can set goals and work toward them, but fate’s always lurking stage left ready to switch up the choreography at the last second, just to see if you have the guts to dance your way through the unfamiliar steps.
To prove my point, I’d planned on Just Saying No to all things male this summer in order to work on my goal of securing a post-grad job with the show (and recover from the humiliation of crushing on a guy who was way too old for me).
It was to be a me summer. A girl summer.
I hadn’t planned on Thomas—my ultimate pal, advisor on all mystical things male, and protector. Or my friends from the show: Dmitri—a dancer (who secretly harbored the Biggest Crush Ever on Thomas), Kennedy—an actor who’d also become a friend (although I suspect he was initially interested in more than just friendship with me), and of course, Brandon, my snarky screenwriter neighbor buddy.
Mostly, I hadn’t expected Joaquin.
He’d become way more than a friend. Mindblowing, I know.
The last thing I wanted this summer was a boyfriend, much less a serious one. And yet, now, I can’t imagine starting the show without a break-a-leg kiss for Joaquin, or hugging him after he leaves the stage for the last time each show, sweaty, panting, and breathtakingly beautiful. I can’t imagine missing out on those times spent alone with him in his arms either…
My tummy did a crocodile death roll at the mere thought.
In fact, I couldn’t even think about saying good-bye to him at the end of the summer, which was rushing up on me like a high-speed train. As much as I wanted to be back with my friends and family, I also wanted to be with Joaquin. So much. Forever. And I couldn’t do both—bottom line.
The six of us guys—Thomas, Dmitri, Kennedy, Brandon, Joaquin, and I—occupied a table at our favorite by-the-slice pizza joint in Chelsea after a show that commanded three curtain calls and earned a deafening standing ovation. As had become our habit, we shared pizza, great conversation, huge belly laughs, and, as far as Joaquin and I were concerned, private, promising romantic looks and a little hand-holding under the table. Perfection.
Still, who’d have thought I would be spending all my time with five guys? The summer had morphed from a “Caressa-focused” plan to a full-on “hanging with the boys” situation. Me? Part of a tight-knit posse of males?
Freak-ay. I don’t even get males half the time—not that I’m complaining. It’s just, everything in my world seemed to be changing. My girls back home were taking care of our former enemy-turned-friend, and I am knee-deep in testosterone-ville, smack in the center of NYC.
It’s just funny how things work out sometimes.
Just then, my BlackBerry bleeped.
I let go of Joaquin’s hand and wrestled it out of my bag to check the display. The girls. I grinned, then told the boys, “Be right back,” as I stood to head to a quieter location. One thing about a pack of guys, they were damn loud and they all talked over each other like it was some big competition. People say girls are screechy—Ha. No way could I carry on a convo in the dudes’ presence.
I glanced toward Thomas as I left—habit—and he gestured for me to stay inside and right by the front door where he could see me. I nodded, feeling cared for. Thomas rocked. “Hello?”
“Caressa!” came Meryl’s giddy voice. “How was the show?”
“Fantastic! Three curtain calls and a standing O. Joaquin was amazing.”
“Not that you’re biased or anything,” came Lila’s wry response.
“Am I on speaker?” I asked, with a laugh.
“Yep,” Meryl said.
“Have you guys opened presents yet?”
“No!” Meryl and Lila barked, in unison.
Message received: don’t ruin the surprise.
My heart started to beat faster, and I swallowed to steady my voice and sound upbeat. It’s not like I’d never talked to the girl before. “Jennifer?”
“Um, yeah? I mean, hi. Sorry. How are you?”
“I’m great. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” she said, and the relief came through loud and clear in her tone, as though she’d jumped some hurdle. “I hear you’re having the time of your life there.”
I sighed and glanced at Joaquin’s back. I knew every inch of it now, every muscle striation. The smell of his skin, the taste of it.
They had no idea.
But I wasn’t about to spill all on a speaker-phone call, and not with Jennifer. Sorry. I was willing to be nice to her, but some secrets were for the Three Amigas only. I’d tell Lila and Meryl about Joaquin and me, later. “It’s amazing. I’ll give you guys the rundown when I get home.”
My stomach twisted at the thought, and I shot another glance toward my boys, but my attention drifted to Joaquin. Beautiful, sweet, talented Joaquin. “Just a few more weeks now,” I said, sounding chipper to my own ears, despite the lump in my throat.
“How do you feel about that? Honestly?” Meryl asked. She was always way too insightful for my own good.
I decided to answer down and dirty. “Torn,” I said, with a ravaged laugh. “On the one hand, I can’t wait to see you guys and my mom and dad. But being away from Joaquin—” My voice caught, and tears stung my eyes.
“We understand,” Lila said, softly.
“Maybe he can come visit,” Jennifer said.
“Yeah. But still.” I honestly don’t think they understood the passion, the intensity. I mean, I wanted to wake up next to Joaquin, every day. I certainly hadn’t expected that when I’d arrived in New York a couple months ago.
Lila said, “It’s one school year, and then you can head back if you want.”
“Oh!” I bounced up and down. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you right away. They did offer me a real job after graduation. Just today!”
I had to hold my BlackBerry away from my ear because of the super-loud cheering. It made me laugh, which was good, because every time I looked at ’Quin, it felt like my heart was being torn out. When the cheers died down and Meryl and Lila had finished ripping me a new one for holding out, I told them, “I owe it all to Sasha. She’s the best, I tell you. You guys will love her—” I cut myself off. Whoops, almost blew it. This was too hard, hiding the trip. “Enough about me. How’s the birthday party going?”
“Lila baked me a cake,” Jennifer said, triumphantly. “My favorite—German chocolate.”
“Did she, now?” I said, in a tone that I knew would get under Lila’s skin a little. I settled against the wall, the cleanliness of which was questionable, but I didn’t care. “That sounds really awesome.”
“We’ll freeze you a piece,” Meryl said.
“Thanks, Mer.” I cleared my throat. “Jennifer, how’s the adoption stuff going? If it’s okay to ask that.”
“Of course it is. Everything’s motoring right along,” she said. “Reese and Kelly are beyond excited. We were worried that they’d run into problems as a same-sex couple, but they’ve already been home-study approved.”
I shook my head. “Uh…sorry, out of the whole adoption loop. What does that mean?”
Jennifer laughed self-consciously. “S
orry. I tend to think everyone speaks teen-pregnancy and adoption lingo. Home-study approved is sort of like being pre-approved for a mortgage, to put it in a crass way. See, Social Services has to assess every adoptive household and give it the stamp of approval, but you can do it ahead of time in preparation to adopt, and Reese and Kelly did. So, since they already went through that, it’ll cut down the red tape and speed up the legal process of me relinquishing the baby to them.”
“Cool. They’ll be great moms.”
“I know. The best. Right now, we’re going through all the other paperwork with the attorneys—”
“Like what?”
“Oh, you know, when I can visit, how I’m going to be identified to my—excuse me, I mean to their daughter. Details, details, nightmare details. But when Christmas rolls around, it’ll be all worth it. They’re going to be Mom and Mommy, and I’m going to be Auntie Jen.”
A part of me melted. “That’s so sweet. Who’s Mom and who’s Mommy?”
“Reese is Mom, Kelly’s Mommy.” She exhaled. “The whole process has been easier than I imagined, thanks to Chloe’s help. And Lila’s, of course. I’m just starting to feel relieved.”
“I bet.” I swallowed, impressed with Jennifer’s maturity in spite of myself. “You’re a strong person to go through this without any support.”
“Oh, I have support. Just not from home.”
I got her point. We all fell silent.
“So, how’s that hottie dancer of yours, Caressa?” Lila asked, in an overly bright tone.
“He’s…” I sighed. What could I say? So much had happened between us recently. I was so in love.
Meryl chuckled. “Enough said.”
I couldn’t agree more, because I did not want to go there. “Okay, I think you should open presents, Jennifer. Right now, while I’m on the phone so it’ll feel like I’m there, too.” Before I slipped and said something to blow the surprise is what I really meant.
“Open mine first,” Meryl said.
I heard the paper tearing, then Jennifer exclaimed. “Oh, cool! Meryl gave me a book about Blessingway ceremonies.”
“You’ll have to explain that to me later,” I said, with a laugh. It’s like they were speaking a different language, I swear.
Father Knows Best Page 19
