by Ewens, Tracy
“Kate, are you okay?” The concern was growing in Reagan’s face, Kate could see it.
She had to rein it in. She wasn’t going crazy. Was she? “After I left Nick I really thought I’d sorted it all out, you know?”
“Honey, you did. You’ve been doing great.”
“Then why am I still living in boxes? Do you ever wonder that? I mean do any of you, when you come over for movie night, when it’s my night? Do you wonder why I’m still living in boxes almost two years later? Do you guys talk about it when you leave?”
“Kate, divorce is hard, and no, we don’t talk about it. It’s just the way it is. We don’t give a crap if you’re still living in boxes. We love you.”
“I know, and I didn’t care either, but then he came over and made dinner and asked about—”
“Wait, Nick came over?”
“No, Grady. Grady came over and for some reason the boxes seemed weird. He made dinner. I chopped. A real dinner, and we had conversation. It felt like, well it felt like someone opened a window or pulled up the blinds. All of a sudden the boxes didn’t fit. Does that make sense?”
“Oh sweetie, it does. It really does. Maybe you’re outgrowing the boxes. Maybe you’re ready to—”
“No, I’m not ready for anything.”
Reagan said nothing as they turned their backs and leaned on the washing machine. “Maybe a dining room table, but that’s it,” Kate said.
“Okay, well a table is a great start.”
“Reagan?”
“Yes?” She touched Kate’s arm.
“Stop talking to me like I’m standing on a god-damn ledge.”
They laughed.
“Just give it time. One box at a time. It’s great that you had dinner though, right?” Reagan asked.
“No, it’s not great. I was doing just fine with the boxes and my Toaster Strudel. I don’t want to know what dinner tastes like here in my little box cocoon.”
Reagan laughed and put her arm around Kate.
“Well, let’s go watch Channing Tatum take off his clothes in the comfort of the boxes.”
Kate finally looked at her.
“The pizza just arrived.” Reagan continued to lure.
Kate smiled and decided that she might not be skilled at picking great men, but she lucked out in the friend department. “Lead the way.”
Grady didn’t often have dinner at his family’s house, but his mother had called him herself to ask if he would join them and his sister Kara for “some family time before the big carnival tomorrow.” Grady was in the car when she called, and he nearly ran off the road. How many people were invited to family time before the big carnival? But it didn’t matter if he thought it was too much. His mother wanted him there, so he would be there.
The entire dining room was covered with mailers and large stacks of pre-printed labels when Grady arrived. Kara was sitting at the far end, by the window, already well into a glass of wine. He looked at her and she rolled her eyes.
“What the hell is this?” he asked, and Kara smiled a fake, large, what they both called her “campaign smile,” and said nothing.
Grady’s mother came through the double doors that connected the kitchen and the dining room. “Grady! You’re here. Perfect. I thought we would start with you on labels and Kara on the postage machine.”
Grady set the flowers that he’d brought for his mother down on top of a stack of labels.
“Oh careful, of that. Here let me put those in some water,” his mom said, as she took them and promptly flew back into the kitchen.
Grady looked at the table and then at Kara. “What the hell is this?”
“Not sure. I can’t tell if she’s drunk, but she wanted to have us over for an . . . ” Kara put her perfectly manicured fingers up in quotes, “old fashioned stuffing party.” She dropped her hands with a huff. “I think she’s finally lost it. You know, her elevator has never exactly been fast, as Nana used to say, but I’m pretty sure it no longer even goes to the top.” Grady smiled at the reference to their favorite grandmother, and looked at the contents of the table. He remembered, as a kid, stuffing envelopes for their father, but they weren’t kids anymore.
“Who the hell still stuffs envelopes?” Grady asked, picking up a stack of envelopes and flipping through them.
“Yeah, I don’t know, Grady, but dad went to pick up the Chinese food. Since when does he get his own food? I feel like we’ve been invited to a hopped-up rerun of Leave it to Beaver.” She got up to refill her glass.
“Does that make me Beaver?” Grady asked, and Kara laughed in the kitchen.
Shit. He didn’t have time for this.
When Bindi Malendar, senator’s wife and Grady’s increasingly delusional mother, glided back out into the dining room, Grady braced himself.
“Thank you so much, dear. The flowers are beautiful.” She said placing the large crystal vase, now brimming with deep purple freesia, his mother’s favorite, on the large round table in the entryway. “So what do you think about my plan?” she asked, smiling a spring picnic smile.
Grady turned to her and tried to say this as carefully as he could. “Mom, why are we doing this? Dad has staff and volunteers for this now.”
He clearly failed, because his mother looked shocked, although he was never sure what was real or fake anymore. “I just thought it might be fun for the two of you to participate. You know, help get your father re-elected. Like old times.” Grady couldn’t tell if she was drunk either. He almost hoped she was.
“Mom, I’ve been campaigning for dad. Giving speeches. I’m not going to sit here and stuff envelopes the night before I have to put on my best face at the carnival thing tomorrow.”
“Me neither,” Kara said, walking back into the room as if on cue.
Their mother sat down looking sad and trying to work up her fake cry. Grady touched her shoulder.
“He’s worried, he thinks he might lose. I just wanted to do something to help,” she said, turning her glassy eyes to Grady and Kara.
“I understand that he’s nervous, but this is not the way to help, Mom. His campaign is working really hard to pull this one out for him. Everything will be fine.” He looked over at Kara, who flashed him the smile again. She was absolutely no help. “So, why don’t we get this cleaned up and put away? I’ll drop it by the office on Monday and the volunteers can do these.”
His mother acquiesced and they set the table for dinner. Even with Chinese, his mother insisted on using china. Grady looked at Kara and often wondered how either of them were even remotely normal.
After dinner and endless talk about television spots and projections, Grady walked Kara to her car, and when he returned, both of his parents were asleep on the couch. His mother’s head rested in her father’s lap. They always looked human to him when they were asleep. Just an average couple curled up together. No lights, no cameras, and no phony homogenized bullshit put forward to lure in as many votes as possible without ruffling too many feathers. When they were awake and back to being Senator and Mrs. Malendar, the human part was buried. It was hard to believe the woman standing by her father at the podium was the same woman who used to chase him through the sprinklers when he was three, or let him fingerpaint on the patio until the housekeeper carried on in Spanish and told them both to get out.
She was the first person he would call when he needed something, had a story to tell, or got in trouble. Except for the day he was a junior in high school and ditched class. He came home early, unexpected. He would never be able to tell her what happened that day, so a secret was born between them and their relationship changed. His family changed. Lies and secrets, even just one, had a way of wiggling into even the tightest of bonds and shaking a foundation. Grady kissed his mother on the cheek, dimmed the living room lights, and locked the front door on his way out.
Bo was at the door, tail wagging, when Grady got home, and he had to admit it was nice having someone waiting for him. While Bo ate, Grady checked his em
ail. Eric, his friend from college, had texted him earlier. There were some last minute “hiccups,” that’s what he called them, but from the looks of the email sent about an hour ago, everything was ironed out. By early next week the project would be done. This one had been a long time coming, their biggest yet.
Bo joined Grady on the couch. It was nice having a dog, calming. Grady wondered what other simple pleasures in life he had been missing. He wanted something. He wasn’t sure what yet, but something felt different. Grady got up to get some popcorn when his phone vibrated.
“Hello, Kate. Is this you calling to tell me, lights out?” Kate laughed and Grady’s pulse picked up.
“Nope, just calling to touch base and let you know that according to the latest polls, your father is already up a point.”
“Really? That’s great news. I left their house a little while ago and my mother was going a little Valley of the Dolls on me, so I hope someone called them.”
“I think Stanley and Mark are on a conference call with your father now.”
“And you were assigned the lucky job of calling me, your charge.”
“No, no one told me to call. I just thought you would want to know.” Kate hesitated. “I wanted to call, see how you were.”
“I’m good, Kate. Sitting here with my dog and practicing being a homebody. How are you?” Did you want to come over and climb into my bed? Yeah, probably best to leave that part out.
“That is very good to hear. I’m good. I just finished watching Channing Tatum take his clothes off.”
Grady almost choked on his water. “Is that so? Is he still there?”
“Nope. My friend Reagan, who wants to meet you by the way, and my other two girlfriends, took Magic Mike with them. Girls’ movie night, it’s a tradition.”
“I see. Kate, have you been drinking?”
The line was silent.
“Maybe a little. I’m not working. Mark just called and I thought I would just let you know. It’s not like I’m drunk or anything.”
Grady laughed because her words were just a bit slurry and he wished he were there to witness Tipsy Kate. “Relax, Kate. Having a good time is not a crime. Even for you.”
“Right. Exactly. Anyway, I’ll let you go. I’m happy that the numbers are heading in the right direction.” There she went again making everything about the campaign. Even with a few drinks and Magic Mike, Kate’s default was always work, and for some reason that made Grady sad.
“Okay. Well, thank you for calling,” Grady said.
“Sure. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Kate.”
Just as he was going to hang up, she cleared her throat and said, “Hey, Grady? Are you still there?”
He smiled. “I am, Kate.”
“Oh, well, I was thinking maybe I should get some furniture. You know, start with something small. Maybe a table.”
His smiled deepened and his heart squeezed in his chest. She was letting him in—just a peek behind the curtain.
“I think that’s a great idea, Kate.”
“Yeah, well we’ll see. Goodnight.”
“Sleep well, Kate.” She hung up and Grady had a feeling he knew what it was he wanted, and not just in his bed.
Chapter Sixteen
The Malendar’s Pasadena home was huge. White columns in front, football fields of lawn, tiny balconies and a circular drive, huge. She had not yet stepped foot inside, but she would bet money there were chandeliers, lots of chandeliers. Kate had worked with a lot of successful people, she had assisted Mark on couple of corporate big-wig projects, dug a politician out of a scandal, she had once even worked on a civic campaign for a prince, but she had never seen anything like Senator Malendar’s home. It wasn’t even a home, would this be an estate? Kate had no idea as she pulled her Prius up to one of the three valet stations.
“Welcome to our backyard carnival! Please check in up the stairs,” the female valet said, blonde ponytail swinging as she handed Kate a round plastic tag and hopped behind the wheel of her car. Kate laughed a bit at the silliness of calling something like this “our backyard carnival,” but simple everyman was the strategy, and Kate supposed technically this was the senator’s backyard. She turned to show the valet how to work her car, but she had gone. A young guy in a red and white striped shirt and suspenders gestured her to the white marble stairs, and Kate had to admit she was awestruck. She wondered if anyone could tell she bought her shorts on sale at The Gap. Should she have worn her hair down? Maybe more makeup was in order, even though it was an early evening carnival? Just as she started feeling stupid, a couple pulled up in a Rolls Royce, a god damn Rolls Royce. Stop staring and get it together, Kate.
She walked through the double front doors and there it was, what Kate imagined was the first of many chandeliers. She smiled, checked her bag with the coat check, and received another token that she slid into her back pocket. Her shorts were navy blue and she wore a silky blouse with lots of swirling colors. She thought it looked festive, fun, at least she did until she saw the woman in head-to-toe Gucci who walked past her. She was used to this and not sure why she all of a sudden felt insecure. It may have been that she was in Grady’s parents’ home, but she didn’t want to let her mind go there, so she walked through the open back patio doors onto a marble platform that had stairs on either side cascading down to a green lawn that looked like something from Pride and Prejudice. Kate tried not to gape, but this was really something. The lawn was alive with rides, the smell of food on a stick, gourmet food of course, and people, lots and lots of people. Kate saw Javier talking to Elaine, Bracknell’s photographer, who was staging her first few shots. Seeing them reminded her she had a job to do. This wasn’t a dream, or a movie set. Where was Grady Malendar, her charge, as he’d called himself?
She grabbed a frozen lemonade and walked down the stairs to her right. She checked the kissing booth first, which seemed like a place Grady might hang out. She laughed to herself.
“Careful, Kate. No laughing on the job.” She turned to see Grady in red chinos and a denim shirt, untucked and rolled at the sleeves. He was holding a corn dog. She looked down and he was wearing Converse. No Gucci, not an ostentatious thing about him.
“Technically, I’m not working unless you decide to man the kissing booth. Is that a real corn dog, or some sort of handmade sausage wrapped in organic corn cake?”
Grady laughed. “It’s legit. Frozen when they got here and I saw the guy fry them in a vat of grease. Want a bite?” He held it out to her.
She was going to decline, but fun danced in his eyes and she wanted . . . well, she wanted a little fun. She leaned forward and bit into the corn dog. It was incredible, very carnival, and authentic. She moaned as the warm juicy bite filled her mouth. Kate was hungry, she realized, and then she mumbled, “It’s delicious,” as she finished chewing. Grady’s eyes were fixed on her mouth when she looked up, and Kate wondered if she had made too much of enjoying his—Oh, God!
“You have mustard. It’s right—”
Kate lifted her hand at the same time she touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth. It was just a lip, and a tongue, but Grady’s gaze stayed on her mouth and she was suddenly uncomfortable. First she had made porn sounds over a corndog and now she was licking the corners of her mouth. She was certain her cheeks flushed once again. Kate swallowed and stepped back.
“Thank, thanks.” Kate looked around at the crowd, wondered if anyone saw what was probably nothing, but for some reason felt a lot like something. A hot and dangerous something. Her tongue instinctively touched her bottom lip and Kate quickly pulled it back into her mouth. This was ridiculous.
“Now about the kissing booth,” Grady said, and then laughed at the look on Kate’s face.
“What?”
“Just wanted to bring you back, looked like you went somewhere there. Kissing booth, I will not be manning the kissing booth, so you are off duty. I intend to be on my best behavior.”
Kate looked at him a bi
t sideways. “Really? Not going to climb on any rides, get into some carny gambling or a fistfight?”
“Nope. Now there is a fire breather over by the barbecue, that may be something to try.”
Kate laughed.
“That’s a great sound.”
“The music?” she asked.
“Your laugh.”
Their eyes locked and Kate wasn’t sure what was going on. Grady was charming, true statement, but these days she was immune to charm. Was he flirting, or just naturally this way? Whatever it was, Kate felt like an inquisitive child. She wanted to step closer, get a better look, figure it out. Ignoring his comment, she started walking.
“Please tell me there’s cotton candy,” she said over her shoulder.
“Hello? What’s a carnival without cotton candy?” He pointed to the red and white food tents and a few moments later, a slender man with a driving cap handed Kate a paper cone piled high with a pink sugary cloud. She grabbed a piece between two fingers and closed her eyes as the sweet crystals melted onto her tongue. Oh Christ, her tongue again. Never had every damn thing felt so seductive.
The sun began to set and Kate was thrilled with the turnout and the pictures Elaine was able to get for the senator’s website. Kate was wrapping things up and laughing at Javier’s version of a circus carney.
“Step right up, step right up,” he called out to the crowd, smiling joyfully.
Kate felt the wind pick up, and as Javier and the other crew left, she turned to see Grady staring at her. Her entire body felt his look. It was electric. Like one of those glances across a crowded room that only ever happened in the movies. There he was, looking at her like . . . like a man looked at a woman that was not his PR professional. Kate suddenly felt naked. Her mind took over and she wondered if anyone else saw what was in Grady’s look. This needed to stop. She walked over and stood next to him smiling, as the guests moved toward their cars.
“Stop,” she said quietly.
“Sorry. I’m just—”
“Grady, listen. We have to work together and—“
