I'm Your Girl

by J. J. Murray

  And before I set it on fire, I know it will set me on fire.

  52

  Jack

  We’re cleaning the house again?

  We’ll have to sell it when I get back from the tour.

  What if it sells before the wedding?

  I’ll move into a hotel or something.

  What about your stuff?

  I’ll store what Diane wants to keep and sell or give away the rest.

  You think you have an answer for everything.

  Lately, I do have an answer for everything.

  The phone rings. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Jack, it’s Jenny.”

  I look at the calendar. She doesn’t have a payment due for another three weeks. “Hi.”

  “Um, I was cleaning out the car, and I found something jammed under the seat belts in the backseat.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a little bracelet that says, ‘Daddy is the best.’”

  The bracelet. It was something Stevie made at school, one for each of us. I wanted to bury it with Noël, but her family wouldn’t have it. But how did that bracelet end up in the backseat?

  You don’t remember?

  No.

  “Do you want me to swing by and give it to you?”

  “Uh, sure. And, uh, just leave it in the mailbox if I’m not here.”

  Where else would you be?

  True.

  “Okay. I hope to see you.”

  She hopes to see you.

  I’ve got too much to do. I have to clean this house before the tour because I’m sure I’ll be too bushed to do it when I get back. I have to do some laundry, pack, check the flight information—

  Don’t forget your day with Diane’s parents tomorrow.

  I’m not worried.

  What if they don’t like you?

  I’m not marrying them.

  True, but…what if?

  They’ll like me.

  The phone rings again. “Hello?”

  “Jackie, there may be a change in plans.”

  Don’t you hate it when Nina calls you that?

  There are worse things.

  Like little bracelets.

  Shh.

  And how they mysteriously end up in the backseat of a car.

  Be quiet.

  “The publisher seems to be backing off your tour.”

  As it should.

  “Negative publicity is hurting your sales.”

  As it should.

  “They’ll probably want more of your new book now, and whatever you send them, make it something juicy.”

  Just send the sex scene.

  But it’s not connected to the chapters I’ve sent so far.

  As if they’ll even notice.

  True.

  “Uh, thanks for warning me about all this,” I say, “and, by the way, Nina, I’m engaged.”

  “You are, Jackie? Congratulations! What’s her name?”

  “Diane.”

  “And when’s the wedding?”

  Good question.

  Soon. Another couple of millimeters yesterday, and…

  “We haven’t decided. I’m meeting her parents tomorrow, so maybe I’ll have a better idea of when by Sunday.”

  “Well, that’s great, Jackie!”

  “Um, Diane’s black.”

  Why’d you say that?

  To see how she’d react.

  So you can sponge up her reaction.

  Precisely.

  “Is she the one helping you with this new book?”

  Strange reaction.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll call you right back.”

  That was weird.

  Nina was speechless.

  I hear a familiar horn outside. Jenny’s here.

  In the car where she found your bracelet in the backseat. Don’t you remember?

  I’m trying to forget Noël, and then this happens.

  “Mommy is the best,” she had said, and she tore off your bracelet, then she ripped off all her clothes, and—

  We were trying to be kinky.

  Doing it in the backseat of a car in your own driveway?

  It was late at night, Stevie was sound asleep in his bed, we turned all the outside lights off, there wasn’t a moon, and it was—

  The phone rings again, and so does the doorbell.

  All at once, this life just seems to happen.

  Yeah.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, baby.”

  Diane. She had called me “baby” a lot last night. “What’s up?”

  “Not much, just cleaning up a bit before my parents get here. Did you get any rest?”

  I go to the door. “No. I’ve been cleaning up here, too.” I open the door, step outside, and hold a finger out to Jenny. Jenny nods.

  “Do you miss me?” Diane asks.

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve been reading our scene.”

  I smile. “Yeah?”

  “And I wish I hadn’t. It’s keeping me from cleaning the house!”

  Jenny hands the bracelet to me. It’s so light. “Daddy is the best,” it says. But that night in the backseat, Mommy was the best—

  “Jack?”

  “Oh, sorry.” I hear a beep. “Uh, Diane, I have another call. It’s probably my agent. Will you hold?”

  “On to what?” she says, laughing. “I’ll hold.”

  I click over. “Hello?”

  “Jackie, they just love the idea of you traveling with your fiancée. Would she be willing to go along?”

  This is an interesting turn of events.

  “Um, she’s on the other line.”

  And Jenny is still standing next to you! She looks good, too, all freckly and tan and cute.

  “Well, Jackie, why don’t you ask her?”

  I cover the mouthpiece and smile at Jenny. “Thanks for bringing this by, but I’m really busy.”

  “I understand” Jenny says, backing away down the sidewalk. “It’s good to see you, Jack.”

  “It’s good to see you, too, Jenny.”

  I’ll say.

  “Nina, will you hold?”

  “Sure thing, Jackie.”

  I watch Jenny get into the car and go back inside the house.

  I click back to Diane. “You’re not going to believe this. The publisher wants you to go on tour with me.”

  “What?”

  “They want you to go on tour with me.”

  A moment of silence. “They need me to help your book sell, huh?”

  I hadn’t thought of this. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Some more silence. “I’ll have to think about it, Jack. That’s an entire week of my vacation, and I only get two weeks a year. I mean, I took off half a day yesterday and all day today to get ready for my parents. There won’t be much left for our honeymoon.”

  “True.”

  “I’ll think about it, okay?”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Bye.”

  I click back to Nina. “She says she’ll think about it.”

  But what’s up with Jenny? She’s just sitting out there in the car.

  “Look, Jackie, they want an answer now.”

  Is Jenny having car trouble?

  “Uh, Nina, is tomorrow okay? Diane needs some time to think about it.”

  “Convince her, then, Jackie. It will be fun, and it will be all on the publisher’s tab. We can get you two of the finest suites in every city.”

  With king-sized beds, stocked minibars, and Whirlpool tubs?

  Shh.

  “Like I said, “I’ll have to let you know tomorrow. I have to go. Good-bye.”

  I turn off the phone, go outside, and approach Noël’s—

  Jenny’s.

  Right.

  I approach Jenny’s car. “Is everything all right?”

  Jenny looks up. “Yeah. No, I mean, well, not really. You see I’ve been trying to work up the courage to say something to you, but ever
y time I’m about to, I just…freeze up.”

  She’s going to ask you out.

  No, she isn’t.

  “It’s not a cold enough day to freeze up,” I say.

  Jenny laughs. “Yeah, I guess it isn’t.” She looks at the steering wheel. “I’ve, um, I’ve read your book, and, well, Dan sounded so lonely, and I just thought maybe, you know, you might like to go out with me sometime.”

  What did I tell you?

  This isn’t happening. This doesn’t happen.

  At least to you.

  What do I say to this?

  The truth usually works.

  “Um, Jenny, I’m engaged.”

  She sucks in a quick breath. “Oh.”

  Say something.

  What?

  She seems hurt. Make her feel better.

  “Um, but if I weren’t engaged, I would definitely go out with you.”

  She turns to me with a bright smile. “Yeah?”

  Say more.

  I don’t want to lead her on.

  Then have a conversation. Be her friend.

  “So, uh, what did you think of the book?” I ask.

  “Well, it’s kind of…kinky, you know?”

  I blink.

  I’m blinking, too.

  “Did you really get dumped for another woman?”

  I smile. “Yeah, in college.”

  She giggles. “You’re kidding!”

  “I wish I were.”

  And her name was Beth. I wonder if she has read your book, too.

  “Well, um,” Jenny says as she starts up the Mustang, “give me a call sometime, you know, just to talk. You still have my card don’t you?”

  I nod, even though I’ve already tossed the card.

  Who else would you call? You don’t know anyone.

  “Um, good-bye, Jenny.”

  “Bye.”

  She drives away. I feel pulled in so many directions right now. Nina, my publisher; Diane; Jenny; and this…bracelet.

  Daddy is the best.

  Yeah.

  Big daddy is the best, too.

  Shh.

  I put on the bracelet and immediately call Diane. She answers on the first ring. “Diane,” I ask, “how many children do you want?”

  53

  Diane

  What a question! “How many are you planning to give me?” And he said children, as in more than one. Where is this coming from all of a sudden?

  “How about…seven, one for every day of the week.”

  He has to be joking. “Let’s start off with one and see how that goes.” A cute little brown-yellow…girl. Named…Tawny, or something colorful like that, who will never hang out with the Qwans. “What brought this up?”

  “The girl I sold the car to found a bracelet Stevie made for me. She just brought it by, and I’m wearing it now. It says, ‘Daddy is the best.’ Anyway, it popped into my head that we haven’t discussed children yet.”

  She’s owned that car for four months now, and she’s just now finding this bracelet? “Um, what would you like to discuss?”

  “How many children, for starters, and how soon?”

  I have to be ripe. He has to be ripe. And if we get married within the next few months, this time next year I’ll be having a baby. “You miss being a daddy, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  I smile up at God. Thank You, I pray, for blessing me with a man who wants to be a father. “Well, I want you to be a daddy as soon as possible, then.”

  “Yeah?”

  “How about…we have a baby girl one year from now?”

  Silence.

  “Jack?”

  “Sorry, just doing some math. That would mean we’d have to have an August wedding.”

  My hands shake a little. So soon! “Yes,” I say, and the shake is now in my voice, “we’d have to get married in August.”

  “Cool.”

  Whoa. An August wedding in Roanoke? It will be ninety-five degrees with humidity over 60 percent. That would be such a sweaty wedding, the flowers will wilt, and someone will faint…. “I, uh, I have so much to do around here. Is that the only reason you called?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’ll, uh, call you later tonight after my parents arrive.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Where else would he be? “See you later…Daddy.”

  “Bye…Mama.”

  Lord, that is a powerful title.

  And two hours later, I am waiting for the powerful little lady I call Mama. Her flight is late, because the flight from Indianapolis to Pittsburgh was late. Flights to Roanoke are always late. They set some sort of record for most late flights in a row a few years ago. Mama will be pissed. Daddy, though, he won’t care. He’ll probably sleep all the way here, sleep all the way to my house, and go to sleep before ten, leaving just me and Mama to…

  I shudder. I will have to give Daddy lots of coffee when we get home.

  I spend the next hour admiring my ring. It’s a big stone, but it isn’t gaudy. It’s a simple circle of light, a beacon of hope, a glittering dream.

  And it’s mine!

  But the second they announce the arrival of the Pittsburgh flight, I rip off that glittering dream and put it in a zipper pouch inside my purse. Sorry, Jack, but I’m not ready for that kind of drama.

  I meet them as they come out of that moving tunnel thing, and though I told myself not to ask, I ask, “How was your flight, Mama?”

  Mama looks ragged, and Daddy looks like an unmade bed. “Rough,” she says. “Just get us to your house.”

  Daddy gives me a hug. “You look good, Dee-Dee.”

  I hug him back. “So do you, Daddy.”

  “Do you have a lot of luggage?” I ask.

  Daddy only nods and cuts his eyes to Mama.

  Oh…joy.

  I somehow manage to fit six suitcases into the trunk of the Hyundai (after a tiny little tense moment worrying about Mr. Tickler getting crushed to death), and we speed to my house in complete silence. I know Mama is just warming up her drama batteries, but that’s okay with me.

  My batteries are good and ready, too.

  While Daddy brings in the luggage, Mama tours my house on her own with me trailing behind. I hear an occasional “um,” an “uh-hmm” or two, and an “oh.” The “oh” was for my bedroom.

  “Is this where you two fornicate?” she asks.

  “No, Mama.” It’s where we almost fornicate.

  “Uh-hmm.” She smooths out a wrinkle on the bed. “You sure used enough air freshener to cover the smell.”

  I don’t answer. The less I say, the less she feels she has to say.

  Daddy drags the suitcases into the bedroom. “I like your place, Dee-Dee,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed. “When are we going to meet Jack?”

  I smile at the mention of Jack’s name. “He’ll be by tomorrow morning.” I turn so I can’t see Mama’s reaction. “We’re all going to drive up the Blue Ridge Parkway tomorrow.”

  “Yeah?” Daddy says. “It’s a pretty drive, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  I hear Mama cough.

  Daddy chuckles. “Hope you don’t mind if I…” He looks at the bed.

  Daddy! Please stay awake! “You must be tired,” I say instead. “Um, good night, Daddy.” I kiss his cheek.

  He pulls me close for a hug. “If your eyes dance anymore,” he whispers, “they’re going to leave your head.”

  I step back. “Get some sleep, Daddy.”

  “I will.”

  Mama and I leave the room, closing the door behind us. I follow her to the kitchen, where she turns and faces me in front of the stove. “You haven’t done much with this place.”

  Here we go. “I haven’t had the time.” Or the money.

  “Right.” She opens the oven and peers in. “Where do you two plan on shacking up?”

  Good thing I cleaned the oven. “Here.”

  She lets the oven door shut with a bang. “Here?”

>   “Yes.”

  “What kind of man—”

  I wave a hand at her. “Don’t start.” I take a seat at the kitchen table. “His house has ghosts, Mama. He wants to start over someplace new.”

  She squints at the ceiling, focusing on a cobweb I missed. “This place isn’t new.”

  “It’s new to him,” I say. “And we’ll be planting flowers soon.”

  She drifts to the sink. “You should have already done that last fall.”

  “I know. We’ll just be planting some annuals for now.”

  She smiles. “Really? Only annuals?”

  I don’t respond. Mama won’t have annuals in her garden at all, because they aren’t permanent enough. There must be a couple thousand bulbs in her flower beds back home.

  The phone rings, and my pulse races as I leap out of the kitchen and head to the living room to answer it. It’s Jack! “Good timing,” I whisper.

  “Yeah? How are things going?”

  “Mama’s just getting warmed up,” I whisper. I walk to the far window. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. How early should I arrive tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be serving breakfast at, oh, seven-thirty, so please don’t be late.”

  He laughs. “I’ll set my alarm for six.”

  “Good.”

  I feel more than hear Mama’s presence in the room.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” I say. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Diane.”

  I turn off the phone and turn to Mama, who has made herself comfortable on what later will be my bed.

  “He’s a man of few words,” she says. “You two will have a quiet house.”

  I sit at the other end of the sofa. “We had a quiet house.” Before the Qwans arrived, that is.

  “Hmm.”

  I see her cover a small yawn. “You must be tired, Mama. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Shoot.

  “I could use some coffee, but that coffeemaker in there has to be cleaned first.”

  “It is clean.” I think. Have I ever cleaned it?

  Mama shakes her head. “I’ll take some tea if you have any.”

  I force a smile and go to the kitchen, hoping I have at least one decaffeinated tea bag left. All the excitement today has me wired, but I am so tired! I can’t argue effectively with Mama if I’m about to fall asleep!

  I bring two cups of Lemon Zinger into the living room, placing the cups on the coffee table. Mama takes a sip and raises one eyebrow. “Is this herbal?”

  Shoot! “Yes.”