Ugh. Bile rises to my throat. When we were in high school and started having sex—responsibly, of course—we started an inside joke that Mom and Dad never caught on to. If you had sex, you brought home donuts for the whole family. I didn’t really need her to bring donuts for me to know she’d slept with Colin, but confirming it makes me a little nauseated.
Holly gives me a wink as she walks up the porch stairs. I give her a tight smile in return. Colin is right behind her and I’m suddenly reminded of last night and how horrible I was. Jealousy is no excuse for bad manners.
“Why don’t we take those in to Mom and see if she needs any help with the rest of breakfast?” Dad says as he puts an arm around Holly’s shoulders.
They disappear inside and I’m left standing on the porch alone with Colin. There’s a moment of awkward silence.
He points to the door as if he wants to follow Dad and Holly. “Well, I should probably go help—”
“Yeah, totally,” I interrupt. “I’ll see you in there.”
Colin starts to move, but I can’t let him go without saying something. “Colin, wait.” He turns to me, his hand poised on the doorknob. “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. I was drunk, and…”
“Hey, no worries.” His face has softened and he’s actually smiling a little. “We were all drunk.”
“Yeah, but I said some horrible things…didn’t I?”
He shrugs. “Your sister assured me you weren’t usually like that.”
Ah. My sister. My pain in the butt, back stabbing, man stealing, always-gets-what-she-wants sister. “So, we’re good?”
“Definitely.” Colin swings the door open and heads inside just as my cab pulls up in the driveway.
I feel like such a coward. I should go in and tell everyone I’m leaving and I’m not coming back. It’s horrible of me to ditch Mom to do my dirty work. But the cab is here, and I anticipate the interaction would turn into more than simply “Hey guys, I changed my mind! See you at Christmas.”
I hear Holly. Her voice is getting closer and I panic. I have to get out of here. I grab my Louis and make a beeline for the cab. I throw the bag into the backseat and climb in next to it.
“New Haven train station, please,” I say to the driver.
As he pulls around the circular gravel drive, Holly emerges onto the porch. She’s staring dumbfounded at the car, and the guilt stabs me so hard, I have to struggle to sit upright. It’s official–I’m the biggest bitch I know.
~*~
By the time my train pulls into Grand Central I’m feeling much better about my decision. Not so much about how I left, but still, I did what had to be done. I can make amends later. They’re my family—they’ll forgive me, right? Besides, I’m back in New York, and I have a dinner date with Luce tonight. I know she’ll tell me that I made the right decision. That’s what best friends are for, after all.
I check my phone as I emerge from the bowels of the train station. Hm. Not a single call this morning. I really expected my sister would have called a thousand times by now to find out what had happened. And to chew me out, of course. Somehow the silence is worse.
I shrug it off. Mom probably did a good job of explaining, and I’m sure she told Holly not to bug me about it. Mom might be annoying sometimes, but she knows when to back off. Usually.
A reckless cab takes me from Grand Central to my apartment in Chelsea. We pull up to my building and I’m all at once overwhelmed with gratitude, both for the end to the harrowing cab ride and my apartment. It’s really beautiful. And it doesn’t matter that it’s a little off the beaten path and almost to the west river. It’s worth the extra in cab fare every day to have the floor-to-ceiling windows and a view of the water.
My phone rings in my purse. I’m pretty sure it’s Holly calling to chew me out. Maybe she just wanted to wait until I got home, which, under the circumstances, is very considerate of her. Or maybe it’s Mom and Dad calling to say they completely understand my decision and that they’re sorry for even putting me through this horrible ordeal.
But when I look at the phone, it’s none of them. As a matter of fact, I don’t even recognize the area code. 707? Probably just a wrong number.
I toss the phone back in my purse, pay the cab driver and grab my Louis from the other side of the car. Once he pulls away, I stand on the street and stare up toward the sky at the gigantic high rise. Yes, indeed, I made the right choice. Who in their right mind would give up this to be a baker in Podunk, Connecticut?
As I walk through the door of my 35th-floor two-bedroom apartment, I’m struck by its sleek and understated beauty. The windows flood the entire place with light. I feel almost giddy with delight as I toss my things onto my bedroom floor and collapse onto my insanely expensive platform bed.
My phone rings again. Aha! This time it will be one of my family members, I’m sure of it.
I roll to my side and grab my handbag off the floor, girding my loins for the confrontation. But when I fish out the phone, I see that it’s Lucy. Perfect. We can solidify tonight’s dinner plans.
“Lucy?”
“Candy! Are you back?” she asks as if I’ve just returned from Outer Mongolia.
“Yeah, I just got home. We still on for dinner tonight?” I hear her whispering to someone in the background. “Is that Steve?”
“Um, listen, Candy. Is it okay if Steve comes along tonight?”
My jaw drops. Is she serious? I thought by now she’d have kicked him out and washed her hands of the bastard. Now she wants him to have dinner with us? He doesn’t even like sushi!
I really don’t want to say yes. I have a lot to tell Lucy about the weekend, and I can’t tell her any of it while Steve is there. But I get the feeling that tonight they’re a package deal. If I don’t say yes to Steve, I won’t get Lucy at all.
“Yeah, sure. Why not!” I’m trying to sound as if I love the idea. “The more the merrier.”
Okay, that may be pushing it. In truth, I desperately need some alone time with my BFF. I need her to tell me that I’ve made the right decision and that my family will be fine and we’ll all laugh about it a couple months from now. But clearly, that’s not happening.
“Great! See you tonight.”
~*~
Taking a shower in my apartment is one of my favorite things in the entire world. Seriously, it’s amazing. The bathroom is all white and sleek and oh, so big. And my cleaning lady does an amazing job of keeping it all sparkly clean. So after spending most of the late afternoon getting ready in there, I head out the door to meet Lucy and Steve.
I arrive at Bond Street Sushi ten minutes late. They aren’t here. Lucy’s always prompt, so obviously I’m going to blame this one on Steve.
“One for dinner?” the hostess asks me. She’s about twelve feet tall—mostly legs, of course—with a giant poof of curly hair on top. She’s so skinny that if she turned sideways, she’d be hard to see. And her incredibly short, incredibly tight black dress hugs every inch of her skeleton.
God, I’m jealous. How the hell did she get that thin?
“Ma’am?” she says, a hint of impatience to her tone.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, embarrassed. “Um, three actually, but they aren’t here yet. We’ll take a table in the lounge, though.”
She scrunches up her face. “I’m sorry, I won’t be able to seat you until your entire party’s here.”
I look past her into the lounge part of the restaurant. It’s dead. There are about three tables that have customers and two of them look like they might be wrapping up.
“Are you sure?” I say. “It doesn’t look very busy. And I’m sure my friends are right behind me.”
“I understand, ma’am, but it’s restaurant policy. You can have a seat right over there.” She points to something behind me.
I turn to see a small bench, which apparently constitutes the waiting area. I sit down, a little perturbed. First Steve, now they’re late and I have to sit on this stupid little bench instead of drinking a lyche
e martini all because Miss Stilts-for-Legs says she can’t seat me by myself.
Okay, deep breaths. I remind myself it’s not a big deal. It’s twelve minutes past eight, and I’ve only been here for two of those twelve minutes. I can be patient. I know I can.
I pull my copy of The 4-Hour Workweek from my purse and open it up to the bookmark. I know it doesn’t totally apply to me, since I’ve chosen a full-blown career in corporate America, but I have to admit, I’m loving this bit about Elimination, as Ferris calls it. Less hours equals more productivity. What’s not to love?
My phone rings. It’s Lucy. Finally.
“Hey, where are you?” I ask, forgoing any pleasantries. My mood is darkening by the minute.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. We’re just now leaving.”
“Just now?” They live on the Upper West Side. It’s going to take them forever to get to NoHo.
“Yeah, sorry.” I can tell she’s moving quickly, but I know she’s still in the apartment. “We got…caught up.”
AKA, they were having sex.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can. Just have a drink or something…it’s on us.”
Damn right, it’s on them. “Fine. See you soon.” I don’t even try to sound understanding and I hang up without a proper good-bye.
The hostess is looking around the restaurant, making an obvious show of counting tables, and I get even more annoyed. I really need a drink.
“Excuse me,” I say approaching the hostess stand. She holds up a bony hand to silence me while she writes the number fifteen on her notepad. Seems about right—fifteen empty tables.
She looks up with a smile when she’s done. “Yes?”
“I’m just going to be at the bar,” I say.
“No problem. Just let me know when your party is complete.”
I resist the urge to remind her we’ve already been through that and head for the bar.
“What can I get ya?” asks the Abercrombie model behind the counter as I slide onto an empty stool. He’s way too cool to make eye contact with me.
“Lychee martini, please.”
As the alcohol hits my lips, I remember last night. Or rather, my stomach remembers last night and revolts against the booze headed its way. Crap. I was feeling so rejuvenated I almost forgot I went on a bender last night.
I try again. I need something to get me out of this blackening mood. A little bile rises to my throat this time. Gross. “Can I get an ice water?” I ask the bartender.
He doesn’t answer. He just stares out into the distance while he fills the glass, then slams it on the counter. He’s losing pennies by the second with that attitude.
I alternate sips of water with sips of the martini. It’s a little better. By the time I finish, there’s still no sign of Lucy and Steve, so I pick up my phone to call them.
“We’re almost there, I promise!” Lucy says as she answers the phone. “Five minutes, tops.”
Ten minutes go by; they still aren’t here. I put my book back into my purse, unable to concentrate anymore. I tap my manicured nails on the bar. I’m hungry. And tired. And annoyed that no one seems to care about what’s going on with me. And I have to get up for work in the morning. And, and, and…this evening is not going as planned.
Finally, Lucy and Steve walk through the door. Lucy is dressed to the nines in a cream dress with a black lace overlay and her favorite Jimmy Choos. They’re black patent with cream-colored scalloping and a little black bow on the front. They’re perfect with that dress. She looks fantastic, especially for a Sunday night.
Steve, however, is dressed like he raided the L.L. Bean outlet store. I’m not trying to be judgmental, but if your girlfriend looks like a million bucks, at least try to match her. Especially if you’re a cheating, lying bastard.
“Oh, my God!” Lucy exclaims as I walk toward them from the bar. “I feel like it’s been forever!”
We hug and then I step back. I would normally hug Steve, but I don’t know what the protocol is on hugging the guy who cheats on your best friend in the whole world and then crashes your girls’ night out.
Thankfully, he seems a bit awkward about the whole thing too, so we both offer a simple “Hey.”
“Okay,” I say to the hostess. “We’re all here.”
“Great!” She picks up three menus and leads us to our table.
Finally. I’m starved.
“Do you know what you want to drink?” A server is at our table in a matter of seconds.
“Do you have beer?” Steve asks before anyone else can say anything.
“Yes, sir,” the girl says. “Perhaps you’d like to try a Japanese beer?”
“Sure, yeah. That sounds great.”
“Water for me,” Lucy says, and I’m immediately suspicious. Especially since she refuses to make eye contact.
“Uh, water’s good for me too,” I say and the waitress leaves to retrieve our drinks.
“Just water, Luce? You know you love the martinis here.”
“I know,” she says with a shrug. “Just not in the mood tonight.”
I’m not convinced, but I don’t want to think the unthinkable. She’s way too young for that. She has too much to fulfill career-wise before she starts pumping out babies. Plus, if she were to have a baby with scumbag Steve now, I would have to smack her.
We make small talk until the waitress comes back to take our order. I order way too much food, but I can’t help myself. It’s just too good, and I’ve barely eaten today. I need something to soak up all of last night’s alcohol.
The soup comes first, then my red snapper tacos, followed by spicy caviar and a lobster tempura roll. I practically lick every plate clean, amazed at my appetite, and by the time we’re all finished eating, we haven’t talked about anything significant at all. I’m desperate for Steve to go to the bathroom or something. I just need a minute to tell Lucy about my weekend, and then I’ll feel much better.
Go to the bathroom…go to the bathroom….
I almost fall over when Steve actually says, “I’m gonna hit the john.”
“Okay, honey,” Lucy says with a bright smile. “I’ll miss you.”
Gag. Is she serious? What the hell is wrong with her? Has she completely forgotten that he cheated on her?
Once he’s gone, I turn to her, agog. “Lucy, what’s going on? I thought you two would have been broken up by now!”
“Shh!” She looks around to make sure we can’t be heard. “I know, but…I couldn’t do it.”
“Why the hell not? He’s a first class jerk for what he did to you.”
“He doesn’t even know her name. It was a one-time thing, Can. If I’ve forgiven him, why can’t you?”
Because I’m not a weak little ninny with zero backbone. “Because you’re my best friend, Luce. If he did it once—”
“He’s not going to do it again.” Her tone is pleading, verging on a whine.
I can’t believe she’s defending him.
“Plus…”
Oh, no. She has that look about her. I’m nervous. I know what she’s about to say, but I don’t want to hear it. If we weren’t in the middle of a swank restaurant, I wouldn’t hesitate to put my fingers in my ears and start shouting “Lalalalalalalalalala!”
“Candy, I’m pregnant.”
I anticipated it, but I still can’t get over the shock. I know my mouth is hanging open, but I can’t seem to close it. I’m completely speechless. My mind starts running through all the episodes of Dr. Phil I’ve watched over the years. What would he say in this situation? What would he tell Lucy to do with her no-good, cheating, lying, son-of-a-bitch baby daddy?
“So, did you miss me?” Steve asks as he slides into the booth beside Lucy. Then he looks at me and back to Lucy. “You told her, didn’t you?”
“I had to,” Lucy defends. “She’s my best friend.”
Steve grins sheepishly at me. “So what do you think?”
I blink back to life and paste a smile on my face as bes
t I can. “What do I think?” I say. “I think it’s…” I force down a swallow. “Wonderful! Congratulations, you two!”
They turn to each other all googly-eyed and Lucy grabs Steve’s hand. “I knew you’d be happy for us,” Lucy says.
“Of course.” My head is spinning. This is going to change so much. It’s going to change everything, really. “What are you going to do about work?”
“I’ll stay until we find a house.”
“A house?” Okay, things are getting out of hand. “Where are you going to find a house in New York City?”
Lucy laughs. “Silly Candace, we’re not! We’re moving…to Ohio.”
The world as I know it is changing drastically before my very eyes. I feel like I’m on a horrible and terrifying roller coaster and even though I keep screaming “Stop!” there’s no attendant at the start of the coaster to help me. So I just have to keep going until someone rescues me. For now, I’m going to grab onto anything that feels comfortable and safe.
“I need to go home,” I say as I fish money out of my wallet. I toss a hundred dollar bill on the table. “That should cover my portion.”
“Wait, Candace.” Lucy is staring at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Or maybe it’s anger. I don’t look at her long enough to really be able to tell. “It’s not going to be right away.”
My fight or flight instincts are kicking in, and before I blurt out something I’ll regret, I say, “No, I know. It’s just…I think I just started my period.”
I can’t believe I said that in front of Steve, but I figure it’s the best way to get out of here.
“I have tampons.”
I pretend I don’t hear her. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work, Luce.”
I rush out to the street and take a moment to catch my breath before hailing a cab. Everything will be fine. That’s what I keep telling myself as I climb into the taxi that’s pulled up in front of me. It’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow to find out it was all just a bad dream. The pregnancy, the house, Lucy moving halfway across the country. Ludicrous!
I laugh out loud and the cabbie looks at me in his rearview mirror.
Everything is just too strange to be real. The change. Holly hooking up with my crush. Lucy pregnant and still with Steve. It’s all too fantastical.
The Matchbaker (A Romantic Comedy) Page 7
