Not Quite A mom

by Kirsten Sawyer

  I have spent most (all) of my relationship with Dan avoiding any and all discussion about Victory. He’s only met my parents over the phone and I have been completely vague on details. Since Charla’s funeral, however, my stance on the small town has softened and I decided that letting Dan see where I grew up wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Of course, I intend only to let him see it as we drive through town and drop Tiffany off…it’s not like we’re going to my mother’s house or anything!

  We pull up to Buck’s house just as he’s getting home from work and catch him climbing out of his big, black truck. He’s dressed in wrinkled chinos, an untucked button-front shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and Nike running shoes…he’s dressed the way Dan dresses on the weekend, but never for work. Buck looks incredibly good, but I command myself to ignore it (which is really hard to do).

  “Oh, hey,” he says warmly, walking up to the car. His smile melts my heart. “How are you, Tiff?” he asks, opening the rear passenger door. I feel silly that the smile that wasn’t even directed my way had an effect on me.

  Tiffany gets out of the car, slams the door, and says “Bye” over her shoulder before walking directly onto the porch and into Buck’s house. Even Buck seems a little stunned by her behavior, because he is left standing in the driveway holding the Audi door in his hand.

  “Okay, then. Did you two want to come in for a drink before heading up the mountain?” he asks courteously.

  For some uncontrollable reason I do want to go in, but before I can answer, Dan coldly says, “No, thanks. We’ll be back Sunday to pick her up,” and puts the car in reverse.

  Buck responds with another smile, this one not as warm as the first, and a nod. I feel embarrassed that Buck was being so gracious and Dan was so cold. I give a little wave at Buck, who stands in the driveway watching as Dan quickly backs out.

  “Jesus,” Dan says once we are back on the highway, “is everyone from the town like that?”

  “Like what?” I ask, genuinely confused. I am the first one to be hypercritical of anyone or anything from Victory, but I couldn’t find fault with Buck’s behavior.

  “It was totally rude of him to try and stall our romantic getaway any more that it already had been,” Dan says, sounding annoyed.

  On the one hand I feel a surge of joy that Dan considers this weekend a romantic getaway, but on the other I feel fiercely protective of Buck. “I think he was just trying to be nice since we’d had a long drive,” I say, hoping that I don’t come off as protective of him as I feel.

  “Whatever,” is Dan’s only answer, and I have no idea how to read it.

  He doesn’t say much else for the rest of the drive. Once we are in the town of Eagle Lake, Dan asks me for directions to the hotel.

  “Actually, it’s a condo,” I tell him and fish out the map I printed from the Internet.

  “So no maid service?” Dan asks as he follows my navigation.

  “I don’t think so,” I answer, suddenly feeling anxious that the place I thought was so perfect isn’t good enough.

  He doesn’t say another word about it until we find the condominium complex and make our way to the rental office. We check in, and Dan inquires of the person behind the desk about local golf. He then schedules himself a tee time for the next morning. I hide my disappointment. Sitting alone in a condo while Dan is golfing isn’t exactly how I pictured us spending our weekend together. I don’t say anything, though, since it’s more important that he has fun this weekend than that he spends every second of it with me.

  47

  The next morning I awake to Dan planting a minty kiss on my lips. Unfortunately, it’s not the kind of good-morning kiss that leads to a really good morning. He’s standing above me in khaki shorts and a powder-blue visor on his way out the door to golf.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he says sweetly, “go back to sleep.

  I smile at him, my eyes only half open, and then close them again. I lie in bed, unable to go back to sleep, until I hear the front door shut. I look at the small digital clock beside the bed—it’s seven thirty the first morning of our romantic vacation and I am left here alone. Somehow I had pictured breakfast (and maybe some other things) in bed to start the day. I get out of bed and pad into the condo’s little kitchen. I am relieved to see a coffee maker sitting on the counter. I start opening cupboards looking for coffee, but after searching the entire kitchen top to bottom I find that there isn’t any. My day is getting worse…not only am I stuck here alone, there isn’t even any coffee!

  I’m trying to calculate how far the walk into town would be when my cell phone rings. I jump at it, hoping it is Buck. I quickly amend my wish that the caller be Dan telling me he is on his way back. Neither wish comes true—it’s Courtney.

  “Hey,” I answer trying to sound upbeat. Accepting defeat is not something I am programmed for, which means that not another soul on earth will ever know that this little road trip was anything but blissful.

  “I met someone!” she squeals in delight on the other end.

  The “I met someone” call is one I receive from Courtney about once a month. Usually, I haven’t even had a chance to meet the previous month’s Romeo before he is replaced. Obviously, this month it’s different.

  “What about Buck?” I ask defensively.

  Courtney quickly blows me off. “I told you…boring and a prude. Alexander is amazing. He’s a Greek shipping heir. I don’t even know what that is. I know Paris Hilton was engaged to one, though, which means they are loaded, because that girl is the most materialistic person I’ve ever met. Plus, he went down on me the night we met!”

  I have to catch my breath…while I’m a little jealous that she’s getting some good action, I would never let someone I had just met go down on me. It would be so stressful I wouldn’t even get to enjoy it…not that I’ve ever really gotten to enjoy it, since Dan isn’t into it. My college boyfriend was the only one ever interested in visiting those areas with anything but his penis. I remember it being quite nice though.

  “So,” she continues, “I’m on my way to get a Brazilian because we’re going to spend the weekend on his family’s yacht. What are you up to?”

  “My weekend away with Dan, remember?” I had talked to Courtney just a couple days earlier—had actually gotten romantic weekend tips from her. Breakfast (and other things) in bed was one of her suggestions.

  “Oh, right. I won’t keep you,” she said. “Oh, but, how did Buck seem?” she asked, sounding only superficially concerned. “You saw him when you dropped Tiffany off, right?”

  I’m taken aback for a second. “Did you tell him about Alexander?” I ask, trying to search my brain for any aspect of Buck’s behavior that seemed at all different.

  “Well, no,” she responds, as if I am a lunatic. “But I haven’t called him in two days, so he probably realizes something is up. Do me a favor and tell him about Alex when you pick Tiffany up.”

  “You want me to tell him?” I ask. Even though I have dealt with Courtney for almost a dozen years, her behavior still manages to shock me.

  “That would be great,” she answers happily. “Oh my God, and Elizabeth, totally feel free to go for him now. I’m completely okay with it.”

  “I’m with Dan!” I blurt out—it’s almost as much of a reminder to myself as it is to her. I wait for her response, but there isn’t one. “Courtney! I’m happy with Dan!!” I holler, but it’s no use, her cell phone (or mine) has dropped the call and we’re no longer connected.

  Her words, “totally feel free to go for him now,” run through my head…why would she say that? She and Tiffany both know how hard I (we) worked to reunite with Dan—my dream man—and they are both encouraging me to get together with Buck?

  I let out a long sigh and head for the shower. In the bathroom I find that Dan has used the only two towels provided by the rental company and left them both in a heap on the floor. I pick up a cold wet towel and hang it on the hook next to the shower, then turn on
the water. I want to look good when Dan returns from golf—I’m sure there will be some romance then.

  48

  Five hours later I am still sitting alone in the stupid condo and am on the verge of dying of starvation. I am looking adorable in a Juicy terry lounge set that still cost over a hundred dollars at Marshall’s, but Dan hasn’t seen how cute I look because he hasn’t come back from golf. Finally, at two forty-five my cell phone rings. I am so starved that I don’t even have the energy to hope it’s anybody in particular.

  “Hey, hon,” Dan says nonchalantly when I answer.

  “Hi, sweetie!” I cheerfully exclaim, working hard to squash my desire to tell him off for being so inconsiderate. “On your way back?”

  “Actually, I’m going to grab a beer with my fellow golfers and then I’ll be back. I’m beat—I need a nap.”

  I am silent. I think I am too upset to actually form words. Finally I regain my composure.

  “Actually, I thought we were going to try to go to the spa today,” I say sweetly.

  “I’m not really up for it. Why don’t you go ahead and go now?” he tells me.

  “I don’t have a car,” I snap.

  “There’s a tram that goes into town. Take that. Don’t worry about being back by the time I get home,” he says in his usual “I’m such a nice guy” voice.

  “Okay,” I tell him, too let down to argue and too annoyed at myself for not knowing about the tram five hours earlier when I needed coffee.

  We hang up and I call the spa. They are booked all afternoon. I fight the urge to give up and collapse in a heap of tears. I put on my shoes, grab my purse, and take off in search of the tram into town.

  The tram is really more of a bus for people to get up and down the mountain, which makes me the only person on board who isn’t dressed for extreme sporting. People have loaded their mountain bikes onto a special bike rack on the front of the bus and most of them are wearing those Camelback backpacks to remain hydrated through their active day. I feel completely out of place. I’m starting to feel this whole weekend was a mistake.

  At last the bus stops in the little town and I climb off. The town is adorable and it would have been so much fun to stroll through hand in hand with Dan. I find a Starbucksesque coffee shop called Chiller Beans and get in line. I absentmindedly gaze at the pastry counter for a few minutes before my attention is snapped back to reality.

  “Elizabeth?” the man in front of me asks.

  My face flushes—it’s my boss, Kevin.

  “Kevin, hi!” I say. “What a coincidence…what are you doing up here?” I ask. Probably a stupid question, since his wife is standing right next to him—he’s doing the same thing I’m doing…having a romantic weekend. I feel so stupid standing alone in the coffee shop.

  “Actually, the studio owns a house up here, but Renee’s been using it like her private property.”

  “Really?” I gasp. “I thought she did own a house up here.”

  “She let a lot of people think that,” Kevin says with a slightly disgusted expression. “Apparently she’d been entertaining a lot of people in the house.”

  I give him a confused look so he adds, “Basically you and I are the only ones she hasn’t slept with here. Oh, and her husband.”

  I gasp again, utterly shocked. Here I thought Renee had the perfect life—wonderful husband, adorable children, perfect job—and all the time she was living a lie.

  “Needless to say, the studio—and the network—aren’t too thrilled about this,” Kevin says.

  He seems about to say more, but his turn to order coffee comes up and his wife gently tugs at his arm.

  “Enjoy the rest of your weekend,” he says as he turns around and starts ordering a soy latte.

  I wish him the same and then order my own coffee, but my mind is racing. First the shocking news that Renee is not only a bitch at the office, but a totally slimy slut of a bitch in her personal life as well. Then add to that Kevin’s words about the studio and network not being happy with her. What could that mean for me? Will the show be canceled altogether and will my big break collapse in my lap so quickly? Or will I get to fill her shoes completely and for good? The Elizabeth Castle Show! It has a nice ring to it. For so long Renee had been my idol. My whole life plan was practically modeled after her life…and I felt I was almost there. Now suddenly being like Renee Foster is the last thing I want. Almost in a blur I step outside the coffee shop and take a seat on an empty bench with my cappuccino. I suddenly feel that I have a lot to think about.

  49

  It was true that Tiffany needed to break up with Red Richley…and she knew that doing it in person was the right thing to do, but getting Lizzie away from Dan (and with Buck) for a weekend was almost more of a reason for a weekend in Victory than ending things with Red. Unfortunately, Elizabeth totally screwed things up by planning a weekend at Eagle Lake with Dan instead of staying at Buck’s house as Tiffany had planned. In her head, it would have worked perfectly. It was clear that Elizabeth wasn’t blissfully happy with Dan, and Tiffany knew that forty-eight hours away from him and around Buck would open her eyes. Of course, eyes that aren’t present can’t be opened.

  On Saturday morning, Tiffany awoke to the sound of a doorbell. She blinked furiously as the bright light flooded into the room. The clock on the desk across from the bed showed it to be just before nine. She was annoyed to be awakened so early on a Saturday—although when you’re on summer vacation, every day is like Saturday; plus, Buck was kind enough to let her stay with him—he couldn’t also be expected to put his life on hold so she could sleep in. A few seconds later there was a soft knock at her door.

  “Yeah?” she asked.

  Buck stuck his head in. “Tiff,” he said cautiously, “Red is here.”

  Tiffany let out an annoyed breath. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Let’s get this over with,” she said and swung her long legs over the side of the bed. Without so much as running her fingers through her hair, Tiffany walked out of the room, past Buck, and into the living room, where an overly eager Red stood waiting.

  There was a different time (with a different boyfriend) when Tiffany would never have been seen in an old Victory High T-shirt and paisley boxer shorts. With Scott, she always made sure to look her best…hair brushed, makeup on, clothes form-fitting. She never cared as much with Red, and never cared as little as she did today.

  “Hey, Tiffany.” He greeted her with a big smile. So big and heartfelt that she felt a pang of guilt.

  “Hey, Red,” she answered. “Let’s go sit on the porch.”

  He followed her like an eager puppy out the front door and onto the porch. Even though it was early, the day was already hot. Tiffany sat down on the top step and motioned for Red to sit beside her. She avoided looking at him and instead studied the light brown stubble on her shins. Inside, Buck headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee…the early morning visitor had also awakened him. Even inside with the air-conditioning on, Buck was already getting warm and instead decided to get his caffeine from a cold Coke. He cracked the red can open and let Wildcat out the kitchen door into the sun-filled yard.

  “Red,” Tiffany began slowly. “These last few months have been crazy for me,” she started.

  “I know,” he answered quickly. “You didn’t reply to my e-mail. I wish I could call you when you’re in L.A. I have something for you,” and before Tiffany could say a word, Red was fishing a small box out of his pocket.

  Tiffany felt that she would either vomit or burst out laughing. She pinched her lips tightly together, since either response would be wrong. Red opened the box and Tiffany had to bite down on her tongue. Inside was a simple silver ring with a small pink heart-shaped stone. It was cute—extremely cheesy but sweet.

  “It’s a promise ring,” Red said seriously. “I will marry you someday,” he vowed, thrusting the box at Tiffany.

  She gently took it from him and snapped it shut. “Red, I can’t marry you,” she told him without look
ing at him. She handed the box back. “You are wonderful, but my life is just too complicated right now.” Tiffany had broken up with enough people to know how to word things. She knew she sounded like she was reciting lines from a movie, but she also knew what worked and what didn’t. Letting Red down gently was the best thing to do. Victory was a small town and you had to think about public relations.

  “I don’t understand,” Red said, bewildered. “I thought we were in love.”

  “Sometimes that’s not enough,” Tiffany said with a sigh. At this point it was much easier than having to explain that she had never, ever been in love with him. Red took the box and stuffed it back in his pocket.

  “I’ll always be here waiting for you, Tiffany,” he said as he turned and walked down the gravel driveway to his mother’s Ford Taurus station wagon.

  “Thanks,” Tiffany said with a gentle smile. “And congrats on getting your license.” Then, without waiting for any sort of response, she turned and walked back into the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.

  “How’d that go?” Buck asked from the couch.

  Tiffany shrugged but smiled as she headed into the kitchen. A second later she returned with a Coke can in hand. She sat down beside Buck on the couch and cracked the soda open. Then she held it up for Buck, who clinked his own can against it. Half of her plans for the weekend had been completed successfully. Now Tiffany needed to figure out how to complete the rest of her mission. Elizabeth would be back in Victory tomorrow afternoon to pick her up. She had to figure out a way to get her and Buck together then.

  50