by Maria Geraci
This is what Frank told me:
He and mom were high school sweethearts and dated all through college. They broke up while she was in med school, but got back together when she moved home and began working in Grandpa George’s medical office. They secretly eloped (at mom’s insistence) and Frank thought they were happy (how weird is it that Nick used this same expression to describe his marriage to Shannon. Are all men so out of touch with reality?). Then one week after the marriage, before they even announced the “good news” to their families, Mom blindsided Frank by telling him she wanted a divorce. They separated and Frank thought it was just a matter of time before he could talk her into coming back to him. He kept fighting the divorce, until finally six months after they separated, Mom went to see him, and surprise! She was pregnant with another man’s baby. Frank didn’t need more than that to propel him straight to a lawyer’s office.
“She got herself a baby from a damn sperm donor,” Frank said. “Sorry to talk about your, um…daddy that way.”
“No worries,” I said.
Mom wanted a divorce and she found a way to get it. I guess I was her “fuck you” to Frank Monroe. No wonder he didn’t want to talk to me.
If I’d stayed in Catfish Cove last night and talked to Mom about all this, then the real drama would begin. I can’t help it. My feelings are hurt. I know Mom loves me but how could she have had what basically amounts to a secret life and never told me about it? How could she have kept this from me my entire life? Does Mama J know? Of course she does. They tell each other everything. I feel like the third wheel in my own family. Plus, if I’d stayed in town, then Nick would have found out and I don’t think it’s fair to drag Nick into my family soap opera without first knowing the real story myself.
I can’t deal with any of this until after Monday.
I check my cell phone for the hundredth time today. Trip has not called, texted, or tried to reach me in any way. I guess Frank was right when he said he didn’t have much influence over Trip anymore.
I do however get a text message from Richard.
Have something important to tell you.
I call Richard but I get his voice mail. I’ll see him tonight at Jackie’s party, so I guess I’ll find out what the big important something is then.
Nick arrives in Tampa by early afternoon. He’s looking forward to Jackie’s party and seems genuinely eager to meet my work friends.
“So what if I don’t pass the test?” Nick asks.
“What test?”
“The boyfriend test.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Except that I think I do. Torie, Kimberly, and Jason have given Nick the gold seal of approval. My mothers love him. Now all he has to do is charm the people I work with and he’s basically won the Triple Crown. In terms of meeting the significant people in each other’s life, Nick has gotten off relatively easy. He’s been allowed to gradually wade into the ocean. I, on the other hand, was forced overboard during a hurricane without a life jacket.
Remember I told you I was having dinner with Nick’s parents last weekend? Well, it turned out to be Nick’s parents, his uncle Vinnie and aunt Elaine, his sister Anna and her family, five of Nick’s cousins, plus Nick’s grandmother and a few assorted cops who work with Nick, including his best friend Jeff and his wife and kids. We took up the entire banquet room at Louie’s that is normally used only for special occasions. Visualize the scene where John Corbett is introduced to Nia Vardalos’s family in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Instead of looking into my soul, I think Nick’s mother concentrated more on my childbearing hips. Whatever she saw, she liked, because Nick said, “You passed with flying colors.”
“What’s the matter?” Nick asks. “You seem distracted.”
“It’s this article. I almost wish I could skip Jackie’s party, except I really want to go and she’d kill me if I don’t show.”
Nick puts his arms around me. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”
I think about telling Nick what Frank Monroe told me but it seems disloyal to talk about it with him before I discuss it with my moms.
“That’s it,” I say brightly.
I spend an incredible amount of time getting ready for tonight’s party. I know my makeup will wilt in this July heat but I have to put forth an effort. I’m wearing the same yellow sundress over my bathing suit that I wore the night Nick and I met Jason and the girls for the first time. My hair is smooth and my eyes are overly bright (probably a wolfish gleam from lack of food). Nick gives me a smile of approval and we drive to Jackie’s new house.
“Emma!” Jackie says, greeting me at the door with a hug. Jackie looks chic in a sleek one-piece black swimsuit with a fuchsia-colored wrap skirt tied around her hips and flat gold sandals. I’ve met Jackie’s husband, Chris, before and he greets me warmly. I introduce Nick, who reaches into our towel bag to produce a bottle of wine with a red bow tied around the neck. I’m embarrassed to say I’ve been so preoccupied I didn’t even think of a housewarming gift. Thank God for Nick and for his mama with the X-ray eyes who raised him right.
Jackie pulls me aside. “Emma, he’s gorgeous!” she whispers in my ear.
I assume she’s speaking of Nick and I smile knowingly. “Thanks, he’s pretty nice too.”
Jackie eyes my ensemble. “You look very sparkly,” she says. I guess this is her way of saying that if I can’t be thin, then I might as well shine in some other way.
A college-age woman wearing above-the-knee black linen shorts and a white oxford shirt hands me a drink that looks frothy and is sugary to the taste. She tries to hand Nick a drink as well, but he tells her he prefers beer and Chris leads him outside to the bar. This leaves Jackie and me alone.
“I’ve been dying for you to show up,” she says. “You won’t believe Richard’s date. I told Chris to card her to make sure she’s at least twenty-one.”
“No!” I laugh.
Jackie lowers her voice. “And wait till you meet Ben’s ex.” She frowns. “Although if he brought her here, maybe she’s not his ex anymore. Maybe she’s his O.” Jackie giggles at her own cleverness. I think she’s had more than just a few of those frothy sugary drinks already. Combined with the fact that she probably hasn’t eaten in days, it wouldn’t take much to get her plastered.
“So what’s she like? Ben’s ex, I mean.”
“You’ll see,” Jackie says in a singsong voice.
I’m about to interrogate her, when Lisa and her boyfriend, Tony, show up. Lisa is not here two seconds before she shows us her diamond engagement ring. Jackie and I both hug and congratulate her. Lisa says they plan to get married sometime in late winter or early spring when the weather will be cool enough (but not too cold) for a beach wedding. I think this pretty much cements Lisa’s staying in Tampa.
Tony wanders outside to the bar and Jackie gives us a tour of the house. The Death Star is exactly the kind of house you would expect a successful plastic surgeon and his thin, glamorous wife to build. It’s over six thousand square feet of stucco walls and red-tiled roof with a killer view of the bay. There are five bedrooms and six bathrooms. Jackie hired a well-known interior designer to decorate the home and it shows. I think Jackie will love working out of this house. I know I would. Has Ben told her about the move to Orlando? According to Richard, he probably has.
“The house is absolutely beautiful,” I say, genuinely happy for her.
“Thanks!” says Jackie.
Lisa and I follow her outside to the pool area. Stringed white lights form a canopy roof, making the whole area feel like one giant party room. Citronella candles abound on the many tables. There must be at least a hundred people here. Besides all of us from Florida!, there are plenty of Chris’s medical associates and all of Jackie and Chris’s personal friends. There is an oversize pool with a gurgling waterfall but no one is swimming, and other than Jackie and Lisa and me, none of the other women seem to have on bathing-suit attire. It appears that I have starv
ed myself for nothing. I make a mental note to eat something as soon as possible.
Nick is by the summer kitchen, where a bar is set up. He’s got a longneck in his hand and is talking to Chris. Tony is wandering around looking like a lost puppy, and Lisa goes off to “save” him.
Nick is the best kind of boyfriend to take to a party. He mingles easily with other people and this is a great relief because I’ve had boyfriends who’ve had to be babysat, and this can be really inconvenient when you just want to kick back and have a good time. I down my sugary drink (which I discover is the caterer’s version of a lemon drop). There is a food table near the edge of the waterfall and that is where I find Richard. He’s wearing a Rays baseball cap and stuffing his face full of shrimp.
A girl with curly red hair à la Nicole Kidman in her heyday wearing a skimpy skirt and tank top appears at Richard’s side. He introduces me to his “friend” Becky. This is the first time I’ve met one of Richard’s girlfriends and I’m not disappointed. Becky is exactly the type of girl I’ve always envisioned Richard with—tall, thin, with great boobs and even better hair. Becky wanders back to the bar area. I grab the edge of Richard’s Hawaiian shirt to pull him off to the side where no one can hear us.
“Richard, how old is your date?”
“Who? Becky?” He pops another shrimp into his mouth and shrugs. “I dunno know. Why?”
“Do you think she’s over twenty-one?”
“God, I hope not. I don’t like them that old.”
I punch him in the arm. “I’m serious! She’s over there drinking beer…Oh, God, now she’s talking to Nick.”
Richard checks Nick out. “So that’s the boyfriend, huh? What is he, the alcohol police?”
“No, it’s just…oh, never mind.” It’s not like Nick is going to demand to see Becky’s driver’s license (she probably has a fake one, anyway).
“Relax. Becky’s twenty-three.”
I raise my brows.
“I know this for a fact because I’ve known her since she was a baby. She’s the kid sister of one of my old high school buddies.”
“Ew, you’re dating someone you knew as a baby?”
“It’s only a ten-year difference,” he says in mock indignation. “Besides, what do you care who I date?”
Richard is right. He could date the entire waitstaff at Hooters and it wouldn’t matter to me one bit. I grab another lemon drop off the tray of a wandering server. I definitely need to chill.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re even more uptight than usual.” Before I can respond, he says, “So how’s the Trip Monroe thing going?”
This reminds me to check my cell phone. I whip it out to find no messages. “Dismal at best.”
“You still have two days.”
“Great. All I need is a couple of loaves and a few fish.”
“So, did you get my text?”
“Yeah, what’s so important?”
“I’m going to tell you something I shouldn’t because I’m probably going to lose a friend over this, but screw it.” I’ve never heard Richard so serious before. Although we’re away from the crowd, he still lowers his voice. “Trip checked himself into Betty Ford last week. My buddy at Sports Illustrated got the tip last night and he’s not the sharpest blade in the kitchen, capisce? So if he knows, at least half a dozen other bloodhounds are on the same trail. I predict within the next few weeks we’re going to be seeing a lot of interesting stories on your friend.”
“But…how could Trip have checked himself into Betty Ford and been in Naples just a couple of days ago for my interview?”
“Time off for good behavior and a fast jet at his disposal?”
I wish I could dismiss this as a rumor, but unfortunately, Richard’s story makes perfect sense. “A little R and R in California, my ass!” I down the rest of my lemon drop.
“You might want to go easy on those,” Richard warns.
I ignore him and find a waiter to refill my drink.
“So while every other magazine in the country is free to print whatever they want about Trip, thanks to that contract I signed, I’m stuck with my ‘I Just Want to Go Fishing’ story. God, we’re going to look like morons.”
“Pretty much.”
I can’t believe how gullible I was, falling for Chuck’s story. He must have laughed long and hard after I signed that contract. I’m so angry I could spit. I’m also way disappointed in Trip. Does he know how Chuck plans to use Florida! to counterbalance the slew of negative publicity coming his way? How could he not? I really thought our high school connection meant something to him. Obviously not.
“Go ahead and say it.”
“I’m sorry, Emma.”
“I meant ‘I told you so.’”
“Hey, you were too close to the whole thing to see clearly. Frankly, I think Gallagher is responsible for this debacle. No self-respecting journalist would have ever let you sign that contract.”
Although Richard is a colleague, in some ways he’s also my competition. He didn’t have to warn me about what’s about to happen. Me looking like an idiot only serves to make him a better candidate for Ben’s job. “Thanks for the heads-up. Really. I owe you big-time.”
“You don’t owe me squat. We’re friends, right?”
“Definitely.” I mean it too.
“So have you seen the boss and his date yet?”
I freeze. This is the exact voice Jackie used to say almost the exact same thing to me. “No. Why?”
“Nothing.”
Only I know it’s not nothing and I’m about to force Richard to tell me why he and Jackie are so interested in my reaction to Ben’s ex, but in that moment I spy Ben. He’s at the bar next to Nick and I can’t help but compare the two of them. Ben is taller than Nick, although not as muscular. He’s wearing board shorts and a T-shirt and leather flip-flops. The two of them shake hands. I look everywhere for Elise, but I don’t see anyone who fits the gorgeous-cancer-fighting-doctor category.
Richard also sees Ben and shouts, “Hey! Gallagher! Can you spare a beer?”
Everyone turns to look in our direction. Out of habit, I want to cringe for Richard’s sake but everyone seems to find this funny, and amazingly, I sort of do too. Richard and I make our way over to the bar.
“Great party, huh?” I say to Ben. “Looks like you’ve already met Nick.”
Nick and Ben give each other that look that guys do when they think they are one step ahead of you. I introduce Nick to Richard and they shake hands. Becky slides her way in. Soon after, Tony and Lisa join us and we are now a cozy seven-some. Where the heck is Marie Curie?
Out of the corner of my eye I see Jackie emerge from inside the house. She’s talking to another woman and they are headed in our direction, and it is in that instant that I realize the woman with Jackie is none other than Ben’s ex. Elise is nothing like I expected. Now I know why Jackie and Richard were so anxious to have me meet her.
Ben takes Elise’s hand and squeezes it. “This is an old friend of mine, Elise Palmer,” he says by way of introduction.
“Doctor Elise Palmer. Famous oncologist and all that,” adds Richard.
No one says anything for an awkward beat. I don’t think Richard has had too much to drink but this seems a little irreverent, even for him.
Elise smiles good-naturedly. “Don’t forget world-renowned and tirelessly fearsome. Those are absolute adjectives when describing me.”
We all laugh and Ben finishes the introductions but it’s obvious that everyone knows Elise is Ben’s ex-fiancée.
It does not take long for Elise to become the center of attention. She is in Tampa for another two weeks, wrapping up a research project that involves her working night and day and she’s absolutely thrilled to be taking a few hours off to relax and meet Ben’s friends. She regales us with stories about Ben’s New York days but she’s also a great listener and seems genuinely interested in each and every one of us, including Richard’s friend Becky, who (much to my shame) turn
s out to have just graduated from nursing school and is actually a very nice person. Becky is thinking of applying for a job on the oncology floor at Tampa General, but she is afraid the work will be too depressing. Elise reassures her that yes, working oncology is hard work, heartbreaking and demanding, but it’s also one of the most rewarding jobs in the world. She ends by giving Becky her business card and the two make plans to have lunch together so they can talk further. Elise can imitate Sarah Palin better than Tina Fey and she knows more about beer and baseball than any woman I’ve ever known.
Elise is also short and slightly dumpy and has no fashion sense.
chapter twenty-seven
We are two hours into the party. Nick is with Chris and Jackie getting a tour of the house. When Chris found out that Nick is remodeling a fixer-upper, he got all excited and the two of them started swapping stories about painting and roofing and what insulation materials are best for keeping out the Florida heat. I am on my zillionth lemon drop. I’ve also had three shrimp. I’ve tried to eat more, but after five days of almost nothing, my stomach has shrunk and just those few shrimp make me feel bloated.
Who am I kidding? It’s the liquor that has me bloated. I need to stop drinking. I make my way to the nearest bathroom. Elise has the same idea and we both reach the bathroom door at the exact same moment.
“You first,” I slur…er, I say.
“We’re all girls here. I’m not shy if you’re not.” Elise takes my hand and pulls me into the bathroom with her, which is so large that we could both be in here and miss seeing each other if we’re not looking hard enough.
Elise begins to fiddle with her hair, which is pulled back in a low bun. She has on no makeup (or at least it looks like she doesn’t). She washes her hands at the sink but doesn’t primp or even look at herself in the mirror. I finish up and wash my own hands. I check my teeth in the mirror to make sure there is no shrimp residue and reapply my signature red lipstick. I’m really beginning to love this color. I think that even if Parisian women gave up red lipstick, I’d still wear it.
