Suddenly Single

by Millie Criswell

  "You are such a sentimental sap, Leo," Lisa said, patting her friend's cheek affectionately. In the short time they'd lived together, Lisa had grown very fond of her male roommate.

  She'd had plenty of boyfriends during her lifetime— too many, in fact—but she'd never had a genuine platonic male relationship, until Leo. The fact that he was gay took all the pressure off their friendship. She could relax around him and talk to him as if he was just one of the girls. He was kind, had great insight and a terrific sense of humor. As soon as she broke him of his Mr. Clean complex, he'd be perfect.

  "Just because Alex decided to visit doesn't mean anything. I asked myself, as I asked him, why he hadn't bothered to come around before."

  "And what did he say?"

  "That he was giving me time to get over my anger. It was such a crock, I nearly vomited."

  "Makes sense to me."

  "You men always stick together."

  "Now, sweetie, I've been accused of many things, but never of being part of some mysterious men's club." He winked at her. "You know my loyalties are with you and your sister."

  "Heaven forbid that anything should happen between Francie and Mark, but as much as I adore Mark, I would have to take Francie's side."

  "Those two are solid as a rock. Nothing's going to happen to them. They have the perfect marriage." Lisa glanced up in alarm at Leo's heavy sigh. "What is it you're not telling me? Has Francie said something?"

  The blond man hesitated momentarily, then shook his head. "No, nothing concrete. It's just that Francie seems sad lately. Have you noticed? She's not been focusing on work, as she should. I'm concerned that things aren't what they appear to be between Francie and Mark."

  "Oh, Leo, you're just like an old woman. I think you worry more than my mother. Josephine has cornered the market on angst."

  "I love Francie. I want her to be happy. And though I know she's deliriously in love with Mark, I still sense that there's something not quite right between those two," Leo insisted.

  Lisa digested her friend's comments. "You have good instincts, Leo, so I'll talk to Francie tomorrow. Mark's going out of town on assignment again—" which could account for part of the problem, if there, in fact, was one "—and she's coming over for dinner. We'll have a chance to talk then."

  "Thanks, sweetie. I knew I could count on you. And you won't tell Francie that I'm the one who put you up to it, will you? She'd be furious if she knew and I can't afford to have her quit."

  "What will you do when she and Mark move to Bucks County? It's only a matter of time before they find a house they like and can afford, you know."

  "I've given that a lot of thought." His expression grew animated. "I'm going to open up a second store and put Francie in charge of it, make her a full partner. You'll move into her position at the store here in town."

  Lisa's eyes widened, and she felt a surge of nausea. "But, Leo! I've just started working at Designing Women. I'm not an interior designer, and I haven't a clue about what it is you and Francie do."

  "So you'll learn. We all have to start somewhere, right?"

  Though Lisa nodded, she just wasn't sure.

  No surprise there! She wasn't sure about anything these days, including what else to put in her salad.

  "I'm glad we have the entire evening all to ourselves, France. With Mark out of town and Leo on a date with Bruce, the ball-bearing king, it's just us girls."

  The four weeks since she'd been back in Philadelphia had flown by, and Lisa hadn't had much opportunity to spend quality time with her sister. Even at work, both women were so busy they rarely had time to sit down and chat.

  Francie continued pushing the peas around her plate in a distracted fashion. "That's nice."

  Lisa had prepared meatloaf, mashed potatoes and peas—one of her sister's favorite dinners. She knew something was wrong, and she didn't think it was the food. "What's the matter? Don't you like my cooking anymore? I'll have you know I made this meal especially for you."

  Francie looked up from her plate and her cheeks reddened. "I love your cooking, Lisa. You know that. You're a fabulous cook. And I don't mean to seem ungrateful, it's just that…" She heaved a dispirited sigh. "I'm not very hungry, I guess."

  Lisa set down her fork. "Not hungry? Now that's a crock if ever I heard one. You could eat the soles off shoes on a good day."

  "Care to tell me what's bothering you? Are you and Mark having problems already?" Maybe Leo had been right. Damn!

  Francie shook her head. "Not problems, exactly. It's just… Well, Mark wants to wait awhile before having a baby. He's pretty adamant about it, and—"

  "And what? I thought that's what you both had decided, and it seems like a wise idea."

  "I went off my birth control pills, and Mark doesn't know. He'll kill me when he finds out."

  Lisa's eyes widened. "Holy shit! Are you sure that's such a smart thing to do, France? I mean, having a kid should be a mutual decision, right?"

  "I know, but Mark kept talking about waiting a year or two. And I don't want to wait that long. I'm not getting any younger, you know."

  "What are you, closing in on thirty? For chrissake, Francie! You're hardly a dried-up old prune. Did Mom put you up to going off your pills? I smell her hand in this."

  "No, for once this is all my idea. Mom had nothing to do with it, except for her usual questioning about when was I going to give her a grandchild."

  "Are you pregnant? Is that the reason you've been distracted and moody lately?"

  Shaking her head, Francie's eyes filled with tears. "That's just the problem. I got my period yesterday. I was so hoping that…"

  The admission filled Lisa with relief. She didn't want Francie and Mark's marriage to end up like hers. And dishonesty was the first step to divorce. "You dodged a bullet, if you ask me. Mark would be pissed if he discovered your duplicity, and rightly so."

  Thank goodness Lisa had been spared the problem of pregnancy. At least, she hoped she'd been spared. She still hadn't gotten her period, which was due, most likely, to all the stress she'd been under lately.

  That's what she kept telling herself, anyway.

  "I know. I'm just so miserable. I mean, I love Mark more than anything, but my biological clock has gone haywire. It's totally out of whack. Every time I see a woman pushing a baby stroller, I come unglued."

  "You need to talk to Mark about this, France. Explain how you feel, how important having a baby is to you. He's a reasonable guy—"

  "Isn't that an oxymoron?"

  "In most cases, yes, but not when it comes to Mark. The man choked on humble pie to get you to marry him. I don't think he's going to mess things up now. He loves you too much."

  Reaching her hand out, Francie clasped her sister's. "When did you get so wise? I'm supposed to be the older, smarter sister, you know."

  "Wise? Ha! That's rich. I couldn't keep my own marriage together and you think I'm wise? I've lost the only man I'll ever love. How wise is that?"

  There! She'd admitted it. She loved Alex. So what? Nothing was going to change between them.

  "Alex isn't lost, Lisa. He loves you. You're the one who tossed him aside, not the other way around. It's not too late to get him back."

  "Correction. He tossed me—to the wolves. Only the wolves were rich, wore Armani, and were called Mackenzie."

  "You need to forgive your husband. You'll be miserable for the rest of your life, if you don't."

  "Too late! I'm already miserable, so what's the point of compounding the problem? Alex and I just weren't meant to be."

  "Now who's spewing trash? That's the stupidest thing I've heard you say since you've returned home. Maybe Alex is guilty of being dense. He is a man, after all. And maybe you used poor judgment when you decided to sneak away like a thief in the night. I don't know. But what I do know is that he loves you and you love him, so quit being so stubborn and irrational."

  "You weren't there, Francie. And I'm supposed to be giving the advice tonight, not you."r />
  Shaking her head, Francie smiled softly. "Do you think we Morelli girls suffer from some kind of curse? We certainly have our share of problems when it comes to men."

  Lisa grimaced. "Hello? Hell, yes, we're cursed! Look who we have as a role model."

  "What do you mean?" her sister asked, eyebrows drawing together. "Mom and Dad have a good marriage. They've been together forever and are very happy."

  "What I mean is that Mom is a strong, self-reliant woman who exerts her independence whenever she feels the need, which, unfortunately, is often. And she's passed those traits on to us, admirable or not. We didn't stand a chance. Our genes were tainted from the get-go."

  Francie heaved a sigh. "So we are cursed."

  "It certainly seems so, doesn't it?"

  The following night, Lisa, clad in her faded blue-flannel pajamas, was just snuggling down in front of the tube with a quart of her favorite Ben & Jerry's when the doorbell rang.

  She knew it wasn't Leo, who was out with Bruce again, despite the man's atrocious vocabulary, or lack thereof, and his desperate need for a wardrobe makeover.

  Fastidious Leo had plans to redo Bruce into a wondrous specimen of mankind, though Lisa wasn't sure it was possible. It was that whole sow's ear-silk purse thing, and she thought there was just too much sow and not enough silk to deal with.

  "Open the door, Lisa! It's your mother."

  "Oh, shit!" Groaning audibly, Lisa made a face, relieved it wasn't Alex, but just as horrified that her mother was paying a call.

  Josephine Morelli's visits never brought good news. She was like the grim reaper—sadness and despair followed wherever she traveled. This Terminator's attitude was far worse than Arnold's!

  "Hi, Mom!" Lisa said upon opening the door, doing her best to look cheerful though her smile felt pasted on, or maybe that was dried ice cream.

  "It's kinda late for a visit, isn't it?" She glanced at her wristwatch. "It's nearly eight o'clock. Aren't you missing reruns of The Golden Girls?"

  "They're not on tonight, and your father's playing poker with his friends, so I decided to get some fresh air."

  Lisa's eyes widened. "You walked? That's kinda far, isn't it?" Her parents lived in the Little Italy section of Philadelphia.

  "No, I drove. But I left the window open a crack. It isn't safe for a woman to be walking the streets alone at night. Rapists, you know. Even a woman my age has to be careful. Rape is not about sex. It's about violence against—"

  "Ma, I've read the literature, okay? So, what brings you to Rittenhouse Square?"

  "I'm visiting my daughter, is that a crime? Maybe you could offer me some of that ice cream I see smeared all over your pajama top. I didn't have my dessert tonight and I'm hungry for something sweet."

  Josephine's sweet tooth put Leo's to shame.

  "Sure. Have a seat in the living room. I'll get you a bowl, and—"

  Josephine shook her head. "I'd rather sit in the kitchen, if you don't mind. Leo's fancy furniture makes me nervous. I'm afraid I might spill something."

  Lisa dismissed her mother's objection with a flick of her wrist. "I got over that the first day I lived here by turning over the seat cushion. I figure I'll have it cleaned before I move."

  "You'd better be careful. The man might kick you out and then where will you live?"

  "Why, with you, of course. Wouldn't that be fun?" Not!!

  "You know you're always welcome."

  Lisa placed a bowl of ice cream in front of her mother, helped herself to seconds, then sat at the table across from her. "Okay, what is it? I know this isn't a social call. You don't make social calls, Mom."

  Ulterior motives were Josephine's specialty, as were guilt trips. A person could ride for days on one of her mother's guilt trips and never reach their intended destination. Of course, by the end of the journey they'd be suicidal!

  "Mmm. This is very good ice cream. What's it called?"

  "Cherry Garcia. Now what is it you want to talk to me about? And don't tell me ice cream, because I'm not buying it."

  "Alex came to see me."

  "Oh, for chrissake! Why am I not surprised? I knew it had to be something like that."

  "You should watch your language, young lady. Alex was very upset that you're thinking of divorcing him. What else was the poor man to do? The boy needs help. He's like a lost soul, so he came to see me."

  Lisa fought the urge to gag. Not for a minute did she believe that Alex was as pathetic as her mother painted him to be. The man had obviously done a number on her, just as he'd done on Lisa.

  "Mom, no offense, but I don't think there's anything you or anyone else can do. We've had this talk already, remember? I thought you had accepted my decision to end my marriage."

  "I never accepted it, Lisa. I tried to talk sense into you then and it's my duty to try and talk sense to you now. Alex loves you. He doesn't want to lose you. You have a duty, both to him and to the church, to try and make a go of this marriage."

  "First of all, I didn't get married in the Catholic Church, and I doubt that clown-of-a-preacher who performed the ceremony gives a rat's ass. I don't owe Alex a damn thing."

  "But, Lisa, he—"

  Lisa heaved a sigh. "It's too late, Mom. Alex should have thought of the consequences when his parents were insulting the hell out of me and he said nothing in my defense. I expected more of him. I should have had more, as his wife, but instead I got bubkes."

  "Alex feels terrible about it. He told me so."

  Lisa's eyebrow shot up. "Well, that's something, I guess. But that doesn't change anything. We're too different. We just don't have enough in common. I knew that when I married him, but I ignored it. Love, as they say, is blind."

  "So you admit that you love him." Josephine's face lit up and she clapped her hands together. "I knew it!"

  "Yes, I still love Alex, but it changes nothing. I'm moving on with my life, and so should Alex. He'll go back to Florida and work with his father, and—"

  Josephine shook her head, a triumphant look on her face, as if she were holding the trump card in a high-stakes card game. "Alex is not going back to Florida, Lisa. Apparently, his decision to come back for you caused a rift with his family. He's resigned from his father's company and is going to open up his own mortgage business here in Philadelphia."

  The air left Lisa's lungs. "What?" That was an eventuality she hadn't counted on.

  Alex had spent most of his life trying to live up to his father's expectations. It was the one thing they had in common, though, for the most part, he had succeeded while Lisa had failed.

  Josephine nodded. "That's what he told me. We had a very frank discussion and he confided in me. I am his mother-in-law, after all. Some people respect an older person's opinion."

  "Alex didn't mention any of this when he came to see me the other day."

  "Would you have listened?"

  Lisa thought over the question carefully. "Probably not. Anyway, it really doesn't make a difference to me. My mind's made up."

  Josephine heaved a dispirited sigh. "I raised you to be an intelligent and independent woman, Lisa. I can see that you're only using half of what you learned. You should start listening more to your heart. That's where the truth lies."

  "As you pointed out, Ma, I'm a grown woman, and I have to do what I think is best."

  Her mother's response was to let loose a few colorful Italian expletives. "You're making a big mistake. I can feel it in my heart that you'll live to regret this decision."

  "The only mistake I made was falling in love with Alex and marrying him in the first place. But I plan to rectify that, and soon."

  "And if there's a child?"

  "There won't be."

  "Are you telling me that you got your period?"

  "Well, no. But I'm sure I'm not pregnant. I have no symptoms."

  "But what if you are?"

  "I'm not, okay? So let's drop it."

  But Josephine didn't look convinced.

  And neither wa
s Lisa.

  7

  It was Saturday night and Lisa had decided that she'd done enough staying at home. Tonight was her debut back into the world of dating.

  She was single—well, sort of single—and attractive. And she wasn't going to stay at home and brood about Alexander Mackenzie. She'd done enough of that already. Now, she was going to have fun.

  Not to mention that the batteries in her vibrator had died ages ago.

  There were a lot of available men in Philadelphia, and Lisa intended to find herself one or two. Hell, in the mood she was in, she might decide to take on the entire Philadelphia Eagles football team.

  Dressed to thrill in a short black sleeveless dress that showed off her body to perfection, fishnet stockings and stiletto heels guaranteed to horrify any podiatrist worth his salt, Lisa took one last look in the mirror, winked at her reflection and sucked in her breath.

  Club Zero had always been lucky for her—well, except for the night she had met Alex—and she planned to meet her best friend Molly Malloy there and check out the action.

  "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she told herself before heading out of the apartment.

  Molly was seated at their usual- table and waved at Lisa as soon as she entered the noisy nightclub. Not that Lisa needed a flag to find her friend; she needed only to look for the vibrant red hair, outlandish clothes and big engaging smile.

  Lisa had known Molly since junior high school and they had always been the best of friends, sharing all the important firsts—first bra, first period, and the ever popular loss of virginity. Molly had actually gone first on that one.

  "Hey, Molls," Lisa said, sliding into the seat next to her. "You're looking pretty outrageous this evening. Like the outfit."

  Molly was dressed in fifties mode tonight, from the crown of her lavender pillbox, complete with face netting, to the pristine purple-and-pink flowered shirtwaist dress, cinched with a matching belt. On her feet she wore pink anklets and patent-leather heels, and beneath it all a stiffly starched net petticoat.