Mimi rubbed her hands together. “Definitely.”
“One thing led to another. And to make a long story short, I spent the night at his place.”
Mimi whistled. “So you got lucky.”
Lilah frowned. “I really wouldn’t characterize it that way.”
“What do you mean?” Mimi homed in on her. “How else could you characterize successfully nailing the heartthrob fantasy of the Class of 2002? Good on you, girl—that’s all I can say.” Mimi bobbed her head emphatically.
“But that’s not what it’s about,” Lilah protested. That term, nailing? It was so not what had happened. “You know, I like to think we’ve all moved beyond the kind of scoring we did back in college,” she replied.
“Maybe in some ways. But Justin Bigelow?” Mimi covered her mouth. “I mean, this is so cool. You and Justin. Can you imagine what Stephen would have to say about it?”
Lilah sighed. Mimi was making it sound like some soulless hookup, a totally immature way to get back at her ex-fiancé. “Maybe at one point that might have been the case, but now…now—”
“Trust me, it’s always the case. Revenge is totally sweet,” Mimi crowed.
Lilah thought Mimi’s words probably said a lot more about herself. When would her friend move beyond the childhood family betrayals?
Lilah felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Hello there,” a woman’s voice sounded behind her, the faint lilt unmistakable.
Lilah turned. “Noreen.”
“Delighted I could find you in all this mayhem. And, Mimi, we only just parted.”
Mimi didn’t seem to bristle.
And then Lilah saw the others look her way, not her way, exactly—more Noreen’s. And with good reason. It wasn’t every day that one stood toe-to-toe with a ravishing redhead wearing a blazer with small black lions embroidered all over, not to mention the black miniskirt with a matching pair of platform designer gladiator sandals. Even her father’s jaw appeared to be scraping not too far off the ground.
If it took a long time to dress her daughter, Lilah could only imagine the hours it took to produce this kind of preppie dominatrix look. Though, given the way Noreen seemed devoid of any makeup and that there was a noticeable blotch of something that looked remarkably like chunky peanut butter on her skirt, she reevaluated her perception of Noreen as a slave to fashion.
“Noreen, let me introduce you to my parents and Justin’s father, Stanfield Bigelow,” she offered, looking around to draw them closer. They all inched forward. Justin, on the other hand, appeared to have been grabbed by the manager of the softball team and was involved in a heated discussion. Lilah focused on their little group and supplied everyone’s name.
Stanfield and Walt pretended they weren’t the least bit enamored.
Daphne thrust out her hand. “I’ve got to tell you. I love your shoes.”
God bless her mother, Lilah mused.
“So you’re marching, too, I see?” Daphne went on.
“With my husband’s class.” Noreen pointed toward the banner for the class of ’72 farther ahead in the pack of people. “I’m not a Grantham alum, but I realize the importance of tradition in knitting society together, which is just a fancy way of saying I tolerate Conrad’s eccentricities,” Noreen said conspiratorially.
Daphne nodded. “So, you’re Conrad Lodge’s…” She hesitated.
“Third wife,” Noreen supplied for her. “And hopefully his last. I tell him that any more, and he’d need a scorecard to keep track. Don’t you agree, Mimi?”
Mimi was busy looking around, her eyes darting close to the ground. “Forget scorecards. Where’s Brigid? You didn’t—?”
“Leave her with her father for a change? Yes, I did. I decided he needed the experience of providing parental supervision.”
“You trust him?” Mimi’s mouth formed a large O.
“There are times as a parent when you just have to take a leap of faith,” Noreen replied.
Mimi’s eyes widened. “Well, you certainly have more faith than I do.” She searched the crowd again before turning back. “You know, why don’t I just amble over and make sure he doesn’t let her get lost when this thing gets going? To suddenly feel all alone and afraid is the scariest thing when you’re a child.”
Lilah glanced at Noreen, then at her mother. Clearly they were all thinking the same thing.
“You’re probably right. Why don’t you go check the situation out, then?” Noreen suggested.
They watched Mimi charge through the mass of people.
“You’re a kind woman, even if Mimi doesn’t give you credit for it,” Lilah noted, turning back to Noreen.
“It’s not always about the credit, is it?”
Justin stepped over to join them. “Where’s Mimi off to? Right when The Parade is about to start, too.”
“She’s off to rescue her sister from their father,” Lilah answered, only half in jest.
“I know the feeling,” he mused and slanted his eyes in the direction of Stanfield.
Lilah slipped her arm inside his. “Hey, stick by me. I’ll protect you.”
“My hero,” he crooned and gripped his chest dramatically.
Lilah bit back a smile.
Noreen stuck out a manicured hand. “Noreen Lodge. And you must be Justin Bigelow. I guess Vivian was right.”
Lilah was pleased to see that Justin didn’t overtly salivate. Then she latched onto Noreen’s words. “What’s that about Vivian?”
The Parade began gradually moving. Scooters with the octogenarians led the way.
“Oh, nothing.” Noreen shook her head. She stepped closer, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of a Louisiana-style jazz band. It had swung into action with a rousing rendition of “Won’t You Come Home Bill Bailey.” “To tell you the truth, I purposely left my daughter with Conrad because there was something I needed to discuss with you, and I thought, why wait? After all, we’re captive members in this whole thing for at least an hour.”
“It’s a private matter?” Lilah asked. She was confused and not totally sure if she was prepared to hear about the complicated machinations of the Lodge clan.
“Personal and professional, I suppose you could say.”
Lilah looked at Justin. “Do you mind? It might be better if this was a two-way conversation?”
He made a mock cry of despair. Then he planted a quick kiss on the top of her head when she growled. “Oh, all right. Don’t get all worked up. Just remember. I’ll be thinking of all the ways you can repay me afterward for entertaining our parents the entire time.” He squeezed her hand to his chest before letting go and joining the others.
Lilah flashed a smile at his retreating figure, taking in his loose gait and the easy sway of his shoulders—and the way others from their class naturally seemed to gravitate to him.
“He has this sort of golden glow about him, doesn’t he?” Noreen observed.
Lilah glanced over and saw her watching Justin, too.
Then the striking redhead cleared her throat. “But enough about fantasy.” She focused on Lilah. In her own way, she seemed oblivious to the stares she also generated.
There was that word again—fantasy. Okay, so being back in Grantham with all these classmates reliving their glory days, and meeting Justin again and sharing…well…sharing whatever…wasn’t part of her normal routine. But what was routine about her life? Wasn’t it more that what had happened over the past couple of days was not so much living a fantasy as following a fortuitous path in life? Her life?
Noreen continued, interrupting Lilah’s inner debate. “I want to talk about reality—a very real reality.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
PRESS LOUNGED ON MATT’S BE
D and listened as his friend recounted the conversation he’d had with his parents the previous night about working for Lilah in Congo.
And he thinks he has problems? Press couldn’t help thinking. But he checked himself from laying his woes on Matt. This wasn’t about one-upmanship on stuff that had recently gone down, even though a not-so-little voice in his head screamed, Me. What about me?, making for a whopper of a headache.
So he rubbed his forehead and listened, glancing around the room while he kept an ear to the conversation. Matt’s bedroom in his family’s small but historic cottage had a slanted ceiling that always reminded Press of some Parisian garret. Only instead of looking out on Notre Dame Cathedral, the small dormer windows afforded a view of the pine trees on the heavily wooded property deep in the country.
And finally, when Matt finished his rambling recap—a sure sign that he was upset—Press searched for something positive to say to his friend. “Listen, it doesn’t sound like it’s all bad. Didn’t you say they thought it was a great opportunity? I mean, it gives you something to work with.” He picked up a pillow from the bed and started to toss it in the air. It was some needlepoint-y thing. It looked kind of like a medieval tapestry with this stag in profile—not at all Matt’s style. But his friend had once explained how it was a present from a friend of his stepmom’s, and Katarina—his stepmom—had apparently thought it was “magnificent,” to use her word. And since Matt thought Katarina practically walked on water, who was he to argue?
We should all have such stepmoms, Press thought.
“Yeah, they were excited, but their ‘criticisms’ as you put it, seem pretty insurmountable to me,” Matt shot back. “Like, how am I going to convince them that traveling to a potentially dangerous place isn’t all that dangerous?” He nervously swiveled his desk chair back and forth.
“I thought you were going to tag along with some people from that doctors organization?”
“I told them that, but they seem to think that’s not good enough. They think that because I’m not officially part of their organization, they wouldn’t feel directly responsible for me.”
“So basically what you need is a chaperone, right?” The pillow hit the ceiling and ricocheted across the floor. Press got up to rescue it.
Matt shook his head in disgust. “It’s like they think I’m some kind of baby. It’s not like I haven’t gone away to college on my own. And, geez, when I was still living with my mom, I was the one who had to take care of her and do everything until she died.”
Press didn’t say anything. He walked over to Matt and tossed the pillow at his chest. And because Matt was Matt, it bounced off and he only grabbed it as it tumbled down his legs.
“So, say their objections are unreasonable.”
“I just did.”
“So maybe you don’t agree, but maybe also you shouldn’t object? Maybe you should try to think of someone suitable to accompany you?” Press suggested.
“Know any nannies who want to go to Congo for the summer, no expenses paid?” Matt asked sarcastically.
“Not offhand. But I do know someone who knows more than a thing or two about nannies.”
Matt pricked up his ears.
“My old man.”
THE PARADE WENDED ITS way at a snail’s pace through campus, finally passing the newest residential college, which had been built to mimic the older academic Gothic buildings. Then the marchers began to trudge uphill by the smaller gymnasium before filing through a wide arch that heralded the arrival at the oldest part of the campus. Up ahead loomed the main administration building. With a brace of sculptured lions flanking the entrance, the stately stone edifice had once housed the Continental Congress during some of the bleaker moments of the Revolutionary War.
“I hear what you’re saying,” Lilah said finally as they reached the green. All through the march upward and onward, Noreen had presented her proposal to Lilah. And Lilah had listened, only occasionally asking questions. At first she’d been surprised, even irritated that someone would want to horn in on what was more than just her livelihood. But then she found herself intrigued, even impressed, and guiltily, maybe even a little relieved. Still, that didn’t mean she was about to commit to anything.
“And I must say, you’ve clearly given it a lot of thought,” Lilah continued. “It’s just that—”
Her phone started to ring.
“Could you excuse me a minute?” She reached into the side pants pocket of the ridiculous outfit and glanced at the screen on her cell phone. She recognized Matt’s number. “Hey, what’s up?” she asked. She had taken a real shine to the earnest young man from Yale. In a way, he reminded her of her own dorky self at that age.
“I spoke to my parents,” he said.
“And?” She listened as he explained the situation. “Right, I understand their concerns,” she responded. “But you can assure them, I would never put you in harm’s way. You know, maybe it would be a good idea if I talked to them directly—to explain in more detail what we’d be doing. I know that I can definitely use the extra hand in the operational headquarters because I’ll be stuck here for a while. And did I tell you about the computer help I’ll need?”
“No problem. Word, PowerPoint, Excel, MATLAB. I know all sorts of programming that could be useful for organizing and analyzing information.”
“That’s great, even if you’ve already lost me.” Lilah chuckled. “But more important, I think it’ll be good for Sisters for Sisters to get a fresh pair of eyes on the organization, and your education and enthusiasm are nothing but fresh.”
“I just hope I can live up to your expectations,” Matt said. “And as for speaking to my parents, I think it’s definitely necessary. Even though they both were impressed with what you do, they’re worried the work is too dangerous. I’m not a little kid and I’m not planning on doing anything stupid, but they don’t seem to understand that.”
Lilah smiled. He actually sounded pretty young. It was a difficult age—walking a tightrope between adulthood and adolescence. “No, they’re just being good parents,” Lilah reassured him. She looked around, as if searching for a solution to the problem.
Noreen, who had discreetly tried to appear as if she wasn’t listening, lowered her chin. “Problem?” she asked.
Lilah nodded.
“Anything I can do?”
And then it hit Lilah. Maybe, just maybe… She held up her hand, index finger extended, to hold Noreen’s attention for a moment. But first she addressed Matt. “Listen, I think I have an idea that could do the trick. But I need to hammer out the details. Could you give me a little while to get back to you?”
“Sure. You bet.” Matt sounded hopeful. “However long you want.”
She smiled at his eagerness. “Don’t worry. I won’t keep you hanging for too long. I promise to get back to you today.” Then she said goodbye and hung up.
Lilah slipped her phone back in her pocket and quickly glanced over her shoulder. Her parents had been adopted by a multigenerational family who were a startling vision in orange and black. And she caught a glimpse of Justin trailing next to his father. He had a slightly pained look despite the smile on his face. He seemed to sense her attention, and lifted his chin. The smile widened. She grinned back, almost stumbling on the irregular flagstones of the campus walkway as the procession passed through the college’s wrought-iron gates to Main Street.
She righted herself and turned back to Noreen, who had no trouble navigating the path with her extreme footwear. “I think your proposal has a lot of merit. And from what you’ve just told me about your childhood experience in Africa, your schooling and international financial experience, you certainly have a business background that far exceeds mine.”
“I don’t mean to overstate my employment experience, though,” Noreen qualified.
&n
bsp; “No, I get it. It sounds like you have the necessary professional exposure and have kept up your contacts in important organizations. Truthfully, the prospect of gaining your insight into establishing an endowment, as well as financial planning—not to mention Vivian’s promise of support—is all pretty incredible. But probably most important, I think your enthusiasm, your fervor for Sisters for Sisters is genuine. And it comes from something rooted deep within you.”
Noreen stumbled.
So she wasn’t immune, Lilah thought. Then she went on. “And you’re right, the project has reached a threshold. It’s gained enough attention that more—a lot more—people are taking an interest. I mean, I know we’re small potatoes compared to other organizations, but I don’t think I’m being too full of myself to say we have made an impact on the lives of some women and their children.”
“I wouldn’t be interested in joining your organization if I didn’t think you had. Nor would Vivian have expressed interest if she didn’t believe in it, too—she’s very picky where she chooses to donate her money,” Noreen interjected. “And let me make it clear, I firmly believe that it is your organization. It’s not as if I want to take it over—only participate as effectively as I can to maximize and potentially expand on all the good things you’ve already done.”
Lilah paused to say the next bit carefully. She rubbed her hand over her mouth. “To tell you the truth, your interest in the organization couldn’t have come at a better time. Between you and me, I’ve been feeling burned-out—guilty that I don’t seem to have the same drive that I had early on. But still, I’m not ready to walk away from the project. Not by a long shot. How can I?” She stared at Noreen as she kept pace with the crowd.
“I’m not asking you to,” Noreen assured her. “I’m offering to shoulder some of the burden.”
It was one thing to mentor Matt for the summer, but quite another to take on a full-time partner. Lilah pondered her decision when the pace of the march came to a standstill. Up front, a band started playing the Grantham fight song. Voices young and old joined in to sing the lyrics. On the sidewalk in front of the shops, crowds gathered, waving banners and cheering. The smell of caramelized sugar permeated the air from a cotton candy vendor who was set up in front of the town’s movie theater. A light breeze carried the scent, making the mild day that much more enticing.
On Common Ground (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 19
