New Uses For Old Boyfriends

by Beth Kendrick

  But today, Summer was all smiles and moxie. “Where did you get this?”

  Lila threw up her hands. “I already told you, I can’t tell you.”

  “And how did it manage to not burn to the ground when everything else in the boutique did?”

  “If you continue with this line of questioning, I’m going to call Ingrid back in here and tell her to start looking for a string quartet.”

  Summer side-eyed her. “You’re bluffing. The wedding is less than thirty-six hours away.”

  “You don’t think Ingrid Jansen can rustle up a string quartet in less than thirty-six hours? You’ll look so beautiful walking down the aisle to Pachelbel’s Canon in D.”

  A look of real panic crossed Summer’s face. “No further questions, Your Honor.” She waited patiently for Lila to unfasten the series of zippers and hook-and-eye closures at the back of the gown, but as the two of them worked together to lift the garment over her head, a small strand of black beads fell to the rug.

  “No worries.” Lila picked up the beads, made a note of where they belonged on the skirt, and tucked them into her pocket. “I’ll have the tailor sew this back on tonight.”

  “Thank you.” Summer succumbed to her “tulle allergy” again. “Thank you for finding this dress for me. I know you’ve been swamped with selling the house and starting the new business, and for you to make time to get a bunch of beads sewn back on . . .”

  “It’s no problem,” Lila assured her, offering up the tissue box again as Summer changed back into her simple black sundress. “I’m just happy this dress has found an owner who really appreciates it.”

  Lila carried the dress down the stairs and draped it across the backseat of her new car. She’d used part of the insurance money from the FUV to buy a gently used sedan, which offered ample storage space, a mere half dozen cup holders, and braking speeds and turn radii that didn’t require a working knowledge of upper-level physics. She’d put the rest of the insurance settlement into her new business.

  The rows of red, pink, and white rosebushes in the Jansens’ backyard were in full bloom. Around the curve of the bay, Lila could see a hulking moving truck in the driveway of what had once been her home. The house had sold within forty-eight hours of listing, and now it would set the scene for another couple trying to build their dreams and start a family in the idyllic little town by the bay: Ben and Allison. Allison had apparently been sincere in her admiration of Daphne’s decor, and they had made a generous bid to purchase most of the downstairs furniture as part of the deal.

  Daphne had been thrilled to turn over her home to someone who would love it as much as she had. Lila was thrilled, too—slightly icked out, but mostly thrilled.

  “I’m serious, Alders.” Summer followed her out to the car. Tear-spiked lashes belied the steely look in her blue eyes. “The last five minutes never happened.”

  Lila waved good-bye as she opened the driver’s side door. “Never happened.”

  She backed the car out of the Jansens’ driveway without incident, then dialed her cell phone and let the car’s hands-free speaker system take over.

  Malcolm answered with the two words that had become his standard greeting to Lila: “Status report?”

  “Alive and well,” she said. “But I’ve got a time-sensitive sewing situation on my hands.”

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t be needing my services anymore.”

  “This is the last time. Promise.”

  “You say that every time.”

  “Yeah, but this time I mean it!”

  “Uh-huh.” His tone roughened. “Are you going to be wearing those black boots and the hot leather jacket?”

  “Soon,” she promised. “Right now I have business to attend to. Meet me at the Naked Finger in half an hour.”

  * * *

  The Naked Finger was tucked away in the lower level of the Black Dog Bay Historical Society building, a tiny storefront that required passersby to take a flight of steps down from the sidewalk. The building’s owner, Miss Hattie Huntington, had offered the use of the space for the summer after taking great pains to clarify that this gesture was made to ensure Lila’s continued silence about the Bob Mackie gown and not out of any misguided sense of community or goodwill.

  Thanks to extensive cleaning, minor renovations, and the addition of a few glass display cases, what had once been a basement storage space now served as a cozy resale jewelry boutique done up in soothing tones of blue and cream. Lila had commissioned the same artist who’d painted the Whinery’s whimsical logo to create a hanging wooden sign that could be easily spotted from the street. The shop wasn’t big or fancy, but it was hers, and she was going to make it work.

  She worried, of course, that she should be trying to generate more publicity, more press, more word of mouth to bring in customers, but she had also come to accept that some things couldn’t be bought. Some things were just meant to be.

  And despite the fact that the store wouldn’t officially open for business until July 1, the people who needed her were already finding her. The owner of the Better Off Bed-and-Breakfast had called just this morning to arrange a consultation.

  She heard rapping on the shop’s glass front door. Her two o’clock appointment had arrived: a bedraggled-looking woman waiting with slumped shoulders and reddened eyes.

  “Are you Lila?” the woman asked when Lila unlocked the door.

  “I am.” She ushered the woman in and handed over the box of Kleenex she’d stationed next to the cash register.

  The woman grabbed a fistful of tissues and swiped at her face. “You buy used engagement rings, right?”

  “Well, I will, but the store doesn’t technically open for business until—”

  “Because I need to sell this.” The woman slapped a diamond solitaire down so hard, she chipped the glass counter. “It’s either sell it or throw it in the ocean, and right now, I’d rather throw it in the ocean, but the innkeeper said I should at least try to get some cash for it.”

  Lila looked down at the ring, bright and sparkly even in the shadows, and weighed her words. “How long ago was your breakup?”

  The woman blew her nose. “Wednesday night.”

  Lila nodded, tucked the ring into a small padded envelope, and handed a pen to the woman. “Write your name and phone number on this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re in no position to negotiate right now.” She smiled sympathetically. “I have a mandatory cooling-off period for breakups less than a week old. When you’re a little more rested and a little less devastated, we’ll make a deal, but for now, I’ll stash this in the safe and give you a receipt so you can claim it when you’re ready.” Lila grabbed a pen and started the documentation process. “Tell Marla I said hi, and if she offers you cookies, take them. Her oatmeal chocolate chip recipe is to die for.”

  The woman pushed the envelope across the counter to Lila. “I just want to be rid of this damn thing. Seriously, make me an offer.”

  “In a few days.” Lila handed her a business card.

  “I’ll take five dollars. Hell, I’ll take two fifty.”

  “Which is why I’m not making you an offer right now.”

  “I hate him.” The woman paused, her lower lip trembling. “But I love him, too. And I’m afraid I’ll never be able to stop.”

  “Totally normal. You came to the right town.”

  Another pause. “I can’t believe this is my life. This shit is supposed to happen to other people.”

  “I know.” Lila pulled a plastic bottle of water from the carton under the counter. She’d had the labels custom printed with the store’s name. “Here, don’t forget to hydrate. And please believe me when I tell you that it gets better.”

  The woman unscrewed the cap of the bottle, her eyes dark and haunted and hopeless. “Promise?”

&nbs
p; Lila put one hand up in the air and the other on her chest. “Cross my heart.”

  * * *

  By the time Malcolm arrived, Lila was waiting for him at the curb, basking in the warm ocean breeze under the clear blue sky. He parked the Jeep, gave her a kiss, and stowed the garment bag containing the Bob Mackie in the backseat.

  “Ingrid Jansen was right: This town is rife with secrets,” she informed him as he opened the passenger door for her. “It looks all wholesome and serene on the surface, but underneath, it’s nothing but intrigue and scandal and covert ops.”

  “Covert ops?” he repeated.

  “Yes. Hello?” She flipped back her hair. “That’s official military talk.”

  “Right. I feel like I’m back in Okinawa.”

  “Don’t mock me. Listen—that’s Summer’s wedding gown in the bag, and it needs a quick repair. Just a tiny little bead or two. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

  He draped one arm across her shoulder and pulled her in for another quick kiss. “Says the woman who won’t be doing the repair.”

  “Maybe I’m not at couture standards yet, but I’m learning,” she admonished him. “I sewed that black silk blindfold just last week, remember?”

  He moved his hand from her shoulder to her leg. “You did excellent work.”

  They drove through downtown Black Dog Bay and then out toward the nature preserve, chatting about Malcolm’s latest project with Jake and Lila’s attempts to find a part-time jewelry designer. When they passed the Alderses’ old house, the move was in full swing. Boxes and bundled-up pieces of furniture were piled on the porch. Rudi the spaniel was racing around with a lobster squeaky toy in his mouth.

  Lila waved as they cruised by. “Should we stop and say hi? Offer to help them unpack?”

  Malcolm’s hand inched up her thigh. “Nope.”

  “My ex-boyfriend is living happily ever after in my mom’s dream house.” Lila paused for a moment to absorb the reality. “That sounds so weird when I say it out loud.”

  “Is it hard to see someone else living there?”

  “No. I thought it might be, but I’m genuinely happy for them.” She put her hand over his and intertwined their fingers. “You know what I finally figured out after selling all that stuff to all those people for all those years? I’m a minimalist. I don’t need a giant mansion or a massive SUV or two storage units’ worth of designer clothes to be happy.”

  He shot her one of his trademark spontaneous-combustion looks. “Just you, me, and a blindfold?”

  She laughed. “Pretty much. I have everything I need right here: the amazing guy who hung out with me at the cliffs fifteen years ago, a new business dealing in old jewelry, and the town I thought I’d never come back to.” She rolled down the window so she could enjoy the sun and the sea and the call of the gulls. “Who knew the secret to happiness could be so simple? Reduce, reuse, recycle.”

  QUESTIONS

  FOR DISCUSSION

  1. To what extent do you believe that certain relationships or events in your life were “meant to be”?

  2. Lila and Ben’s romantic relationship ended after high school, but they reconnect on a different level. Do you think the two of them could have made it work as husband and wife? How important is physical chemistry versus emotional/intellectual compatibility in a marriage?

  3. Do you think Ben and Allison will have a happy marriage? Which factors are most likely to determine this?

  4. If Lila and Daphne had been forced to break the news to Mimi Sinclair about her knockoff handbags, who do you think should have told her? What would Mimi’s reaction likely have been?

  5. Daphne considers her vintage couture as archived pieces of her own history. Are there certain items of clothing that capture significant moments in your life? Are there certain pieces you’ve purposefully gotten rid of?

  6. Lila buys the FUV in a spate of panic and revenge after her life falls apart. Several characters in the book talk about buying material goods as a way of seeking comfort. Can this work as a coping strategy, and should we place a value judgment on “retail therapy”?

  7. Malcolm doesn’t talk much about his memories of high school. What do you think he was like as a teenager?

  8. Daphne and Lila name their boutique Unfinished Business because it acts as a bridge between their pasts and their futures. If you opened a shop to resell some of the most meaningful material possessions from your life, what would you call it?

  9. Lila and Malcolm share a moment during which they are terrified not of their limitations but of their potential. Can you think of examples of this in your own life, when the idea of striving for fulfillment is more daunting than the idea of “settling”?

  10. Daphne mentions several times that she gave up important parts of her identity when she married and moved to Black Dog Bay. Does one member of a couple typically have to sacrifice more in order for the relationship to work?

  11. Lila and Malcolm see the “ghost dog” of Black Dog Bay right after their cliff-diving adventures by the point. Why do you think the dog appeared at that particular moment? What specifically had just changed or developed between the two of them?

  Don’t miss Beth Kendrick’s charming novel

  cure for the

  common breakup

  Available from New American Library

  chapter 1

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking.”

  “He’s so hot.” Summer Benson nudged her fellow flight attendant Kim. “Even his voice is hot.”

  “Welcome to our flight from New York to Paris.” Aaron’s voice sounded deep and rich, despite the plane’s staticky loudspeaker. “Flying time tonight should be about seven hours and twenty-six minutes. We’re anticipating an on-time departure, so we’re going to ask you to move out of the aisles and take your seats as quickly as possible.”

  Summer leaned back against the drink cart in the tiny first-class galley. “Ooh, I love it when he tells me what to do.”

  Kim, a petite Texan with a sleek blond bob, rolled her eyes and started checking the meals that had arrived from catering. “Get a room.”

  “As soon as we get to Paris, we will,” Summer assured her. “And then we’re going to walk by the Seine and go to the Eiffel Tower and eat croissants. If it’s cheesy and touristy, we’re doing it. I actually packed a beret.”

  “I was wondering why you had two gigantic carry-ons,” Kim said. “That’s a lot of luggage for a three-day layover.”

  “One bag’s half full of scandalous lingerie,” Summer replied. “I left the other half empty so I can buy more scandalous lingerie.” She frowned at a snag in her silky black nylons. “These eight-hour flights are hell on my stockings. This pair was my favorite, too. They’re all lacy at the top. Hand-embroidered.”

  Kim’s jaw dropped. “You’re wearing thigh-highs? All the way to Paris? Do you hate yourself? Do you hate your veins?”

  “When I’m on a flight to Paris with my boyfriend, I don’t wear support hose. Not now, not ever.”

  “And do you hate your feet?” Kim glanced down at Summer’s patent leather stilettos. “I don’t have a ruler with me, but I’m guessing those heels are higher than two and a half inches.” She shook her index finger. “Airline regulations.”

  “Airline regulations also state that we have to wear black shoes and black tights with a navy uniform,” Summer said. “That doesn’t make it right. Besides, France has laws against ugly shoes. You can look it up.”

  “You’re going to be begging for flats by the time you’re through with the salad service,” Kim predicted.

  Summer had to admit that her coworker had a point—international first-class service didn’t offer a lot of downtime. Between distributing hot towels, drinks, place settings and linens, appetizers, salads, entrées, fruit and cheese, dessert, coffee, cordi
als, warm cookies, and finally breakfast, a sensible flight attendant would wear comfortable footwear.

  Summer had never been accused of being sensible.

  “The only thing more high-maintenance than the meal service is me,” she said. “I refuse to be hobbled by a few plates of lettuce.”

  Kim ducked out of the galley with a pair of plastic water bottles. “Hang on. I’m going to go check if the pilots want anything before takeoff. Want me to say hi to your boyfriend?”

  “Sure, and ask if he has any M&M’s. I forgot to bring a fresh supply, and he knows I’m an addict.”

  Two minutes later, Kim returned from the flight deck, walking as fast as her polyester pencil skirt permitted. “I just saw Aaron!”

  “Score.” Summer held out her palm as Kim handed over a bag of candy. “He truly is the best boyfriend ever. I’ll have to keep him around for a while.”

  “For a while? How about forever?” Kim clutched Summer’s forearm and gave her a little shake. “He has a diamond ring for you!”

  Summer pulled away and braced both hands on the narrow, metal-edged countertop.

  “It’s gorgeous!” Kim squealed. “He was showing it to the first officer when I opened the door.”

  Where was an oxygen mask when you needed one? Summer inhaled deeply, smelling stale coffee grounds and the plummy red wine Kim had just uncorked for a passenger.

  “I . . .” She waited for her emotions to kick in. She should laugh. Cry. Faint dead away. Something.

  “He’s going to propose in Paris! How romantic.” Kim looked as though she might faint dead away. “A guy like him, with a ring like that . . . God, you’re so lucky.”

  All at once the emotions kicked in. Complete, overwhelming terror, served up with a side of denial. “Slow down—slow down.” Summer sagged back against the counter. “This is crazy. I mean, Aaron and I have a great time together, but we’ve certainly never talked about marriage.”