Afraid of Her Shadow

by Carol Maloney Scott

  “Sorry, I just got out of the shower.” I go about busying myself with choosing my housework outfit with as much concentration as if I were attending a coronation. Anything to avoid the dangling earring.

  Steve stands there awkwardly with the earring in his palm. “So you don’t like them? I bought them for her thirtieth birthday, around the same time we got married. And my birthday. I don’t know why we got married the same month as both of our birthdays. That was silly, right?” He sits on the bed, and I pray that this uncharacteristically long stream of words has come to a merciful end.

  “I can’t believe it’s been ten years.” He lets silence settle again, apparently waiting for my response. I pull my t-shirt over my head, and begin rubbing my hair with the towel I tossed onto the bed.

  “It isn’t that I don’t like them. I just think it’s weird for me to own anything that was hers. It’s not appropriate. I can’t believe you don’t see that.” I grab my brush with the intention of going back to the bathroom to blow-dry my hair.

  He follows me after a few moments, and I steel myself for further jewelry confrontation. He is no longer holding the earring and says, “I’m going to call Jeff now to ask him if I can store some stuff for Megan at his place.” He stares at me, but doesn’t reach out again.

  “Okay. I’ll be down in a little bit to help you. Did you feed the cats? Take Elsa out?”

  We continue an exchange of practical information and he reluctantly shuffles out to call Jeff. He blew it again. After last night, I thought maybe he understood.

  I apply minimal makeup and walk down the hall and across the house into the family room. I can vaguely hear Steve talking to Jeff in his study.

  I plop on the sofa and the fur triplets come to say hello to Mommy. I lean back on the couch and stare at the picture wall. I notice that one picture is missing. It’s one of Steve, Noreen and Megan on a beach vacation. Every other picture is there. I glance around and don’t see any pictures of us…okay, that’s one of us at New Year’s last year. There are a few other people behind us, goofing around. It’s sitting on the end table. Maybe I need to point out the huge box of pictures I brought here. Again.

  Steve comes into the room and sits down on the other end of the couch, laying down and putting his feet on my lap.

  “So how did it go with Jeff?”

  “He said he has no room because of all the fucking toys, blah, blah, blah. Crystal was nagging him in the background and I heard babies screeching.”

  “Where was Megan?”

  “Out with her boyfriend.”

  “She has a boyfriend?”

  “Apparently.” Steve looks up at the ceiling. “Let’s just move everything to your storage unit until we have a better solution. That way I can slowly show things to Megan and see what she wants.” He sits up and rubs my arm. “Is that okay?”

  He looks so cute and sad, and I should be annoyed with him for his stupidity and insensitive behavior, but I melt when he looks like this. “Of course. I just need to eat a little something and I’ll join you.”

  I jump up to head to the kitchen and he says, “You know you will have to meet her eventually.”

  My heart flutters, and then I realize he means Megan. Who did I think he meant? I hesitate a moment and reply, “Okay, but I don’t know how that’s going to go.” I bite my lower lip. “She has a boyfriend, huh?”

  Steve sighs and tells me he’s going back to the closet. I don’t blame him for avoiding delving deeper into that topic. The last thing he needs is a pregnant stepdaughter. I have a sneaking suspicion that he wants me to be a mother figure, or at least take on some kind of female mentor role with this girl. As I pour my cereal I consider that maybe I could do that. I’m not a mother, but I am a stable woman with a lot of life experience. I just don’t know how to reconcile Megan with my feelings about her mother’s memory. I ditch the cereal and pull out an emergency donut. The last thing I need is to try to choke down healthy crap that will be soggy in two minutes.

  Several hours later I have developed the condition known as noodle arm. Steve has done most of the heavy lifting, but I hate to be the weak little woman, so I have done more than my share of lugging boxes.

  We got everything into the storage unit, and Steve wrapped up all the jewelry again, only protesting one more time that it’s a shame that I don’t like any of it. Then he said if Megan doesn’t want the jewelry, he will sell it all and buy something nice for me. I had this flash forward of receiving an engagement ring bought with Noreen’s treasures, and I shivered. Steve thought the air conditioning was too high in the car and turned it down.

  On the way to The Shark Tank we listen to music and Steve avoids further conversation. I take his hand and move it to my lap so he doesn’t think I’m mad at him. I am, but that doesn’t help anything.

  We arrive at our destination and quietly walk hand in hand. Steve opens the door for me. The band has already started, and Steve pays the cover charge as I glance around for Claire and Brandon. Claire suddenly pops out from behind the entrance to the bar area.

  “Hey, guys! This band is pretty good. I forgot about their music, but then of course it all came back to me when they started playing. I’m still embarrassed. Do you think they remember me?”

  “Yes, you had a rather eventful night the last time you saw them.” I laugh and Steve looks bewildered. “I’m sure they remember the incident, but they may not recognize you.” I turn to Steve and say, “I’ll explain later.”

  Claire fell into the band while dancing in ridiculously high heeled shoes. I believe it was the purple glitter ones she wore to work recently. Tonight’s shoes are a bit lower heeled, but I think she has switched only because Brandon isn’t tall. They still have plenty of glitter—silver this time. Her halter top is loaded with sequins, and only grazes the top of her leather pants, exposing her belly button when she raises her arms. Claire’s wardrobe has gotten younger and younger since she started dating Brandon. If she doesn’t stop soon, she’ll be wearing a romper or a onesie. Speaking of baby clothes, how is she going to take care of a baby and keep up with all of this nightlife?

  “Hi guys, I was just talking to the sound guy.” Brandon appears by Claire’s side and takes a swig of his beer. Claire is holding a cocktail with just a little bit left at the bottom. Brandon points to her drink and says, “Do you want another one?”

  “No, I want to dance. Can you put this back on the bar?” She downs the last bit of pink liquid and grabs my hand.

  I look at Steve and he says, “You girls go on. I’m going to get a beer, and there was something I wanted to ask Brandon about.”

  Before I can question him, Claire has dragged me out to the dance floor. The band is playing “Rebel Yell,” which is one of our favorites. Claire appears to be sober, so she shouldn’t need any babysitting tonight. Actually, the night she fell she wasn’t even drunk. It was those silly shoes. If she wears them carrying a baby, the kid is going to fly out of her arms. When asked as an adult if someone dropped him on his head when he says something stupid, he will have to say yes, my floozy mother wore stilettos.

  I decide to forget about whatever Steve and Brandon are talking about. They’re guys and it’s probably boring men stuff.

  The song ends and the band slides into one I don’t like. We move to the other side of the bar, out of the guys’ view, and I tell Claire a quick synopsis of my weekend thus far.

  “Wow, she sounds like a nightmare. I do feel sorry for her loss, but that’s no excuse to be rude to you. I’m sure she knew what she was doing, and not wanting her brother to be happy is unfair and selfish.” Claire fans herself with a napkin from a nearby table. “The beads thing is hilarious, though.”

  “You just say that because getting stuck in them is something you would do. Noreen didn’t have to serve any fancy dinners, and apparently she was smoking pot all the time and painting. She didn’t cook at all. If I was only schlepping Chinese food and high as a kite, I wouldn’t have to make my way t
hrough the seventies décor force field to serve a real meal in the dining room, either. I was carrying a beautiful marinated tenderloin on a china platter like Julia Fucking Child wearing her apron! Noreen’s, not Julia’s. And I have big hair!” My rant makes me sweaty, too, and now I fan myself with a napkin. “Steve did defend me a bit, and I recognize he can’t control Eve’s behavior, and she’s his only relative.” I sigh and frown. “I’m more concerned about him avoiding my questions and lying about getting rid of all of Noreen’s stuff.”

  “That’s not good, but maybe you need to be more patient. He does need to address Megan, and you seem reluctant to even meet her. Don’t you think that’s bothering him? What’s the big deal, anyway? She’s just a kid. And was Noreen really high all the time? Wasn’t she a teacher?”

  “No, I’m sure she wasn’t high all the time. Steve said it was occasional. Mostly when she was painting. I guess she somehow dodged the drug tests at school. Or do they even do that? It doesn’t matter. Anyway, it’s a damn good thing he took those beads down. They were gone in the morning, and I found them in the trash. And as for Megan, I don’t have your maternal instinct, and she is Noreen’s kid. I am changing the house her mother lived in and—”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, stop it! I know I can be a whack-job, but you are supposed to be the stable, reasonable one. This death thing has you completely insane. If you were Catholic I would advise you to see a priest. Get an exorcism. Hey, that’s not a bad idea. The power of Christ compels you to quit freaking out!” She rolls her eyes and smirks.

  “Laugh all you want, but I don’t know what to do, and it’s all happening so fast. Steve talked to Jeff today, and he said he wants to meet with Steve this week. I hope he doesn’t want him to take one of the triplets now.” I laugh and it hits me. “He probably wants his car. China. Who knows what else Noreen got in the divorce settlement that he feels belongs to Megan. If Steve is asking him to store some of Noreen’s stuff at his house for Megan, he’s probably thinking of all of the things he wants back.”

  “You can’t blame the guy.”

  “Oh, I don’t. That car is worth a fortune. Even Luke, the car nut, didn’t have a set of wheels like that.”

  “Speaking of which, did the Portuguese prince move into your place today?”

  “I assume so. I didn’t hear from him. Violet will keep me informed.” I’m getting thirsty now, and I crane my neck to locate Steve and Brandon. I see that they both have beers sitting on the bar, and they’re talking animatedly. Steve’s hands are flying and Brandon is nodding in agreement. Probably discussing how Claire and I are both nuts.

  I turn back and Claire is fiddling with her silver bracelet—is that the wiener dog one Justin gave her last year? I wonder if Brandon knows where she got that, but I guess he knows all about the Justin situation. Nothing happened there anyway, and now he’s moved away.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask. I narrow my eyes and wait for her next nugget of wisdom.

  “I hate to say this, but…don’t you think it seems like you are letting him rent your place, with all your furniture in it, so that if things don’t work out with Steve you can just grab the cats and your fancy underwear and move back to your old life? And if I see that, don’t you think Steve sees it?”

  “Hmm, I didn’t think of it that way. It wasn’t my idea. I guess I can see how it looks that way.” Shit, I’m lying again. I lean back against my chair and cross my legs. “Wow, I actually could do that. He basically said he wants me back, although I don’t know why. He could have any woman he wants. I think he’s just getting lazy. Maybe he’s depressed or on drugs.”

  “Sure, that’s the only way a man would be interested in you.” More eye rolling from Claire. Like she’s always been so self-confident with men.

  I look up and spot Brandon and Steve coming our way. Brandon is pointing to show Steve that he found us. I would like to get back on the dance floor and shake off Claire’s comments about teenagers, hot exes, and exorcism. Kind of like an unholy trinity.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Shit can blow up fast from one day to the next. After an emergency board meeting on Sunday night, it was decided that Timothy Rudwick be removed from his position of CEO of Bella Donna Press. Apparently on Saturday, a certain famous romance author sent a scathing e-mail to the board (and everyone else in the free world) detailing Tim’s treacherous and unprofessional behavior. Basically, I think she’s a woman scorned, but I swear Tim must have magical powers that make him look like Brad Pitt to the women of his choice. I am SO glad that I was not on his list. As Claire would say, he gives me the willies.

  In the aftermath of that big poop tornado, they are now looking at me to help them select his replacement. I would love to see Pam Rogers, the Acquisition Manager, get the job, but then Frank, the Editor-in-Chief, is really next in line. However, Frank is Tim’s friend, and although it does not make him guilty by association (I doubt Tim slept with Frank), the board may not be comfortable with that selection. Frank must want to murder Tim, since he recruited him less than two years ago, and now he has fucked up his career, too. Of course the real justice will come when Tim’s wife sets his stuff, and possibly him, on fire.

  I was planning to go to the board this week, after talking to Cecilia and Amanda. I was asked to continue interviewing the pertinent employees, as the company wants to prepare for any impending lawsuits now that Tim is gone, and the employees won’t need to fear retribution.

  Saturday night turned out to be fun, and Steve and Brandon danced with us quite a bit, once they loosened up. Claire got a little tipsy, but I think Brandon has been a good influence overall. I wish he would tell her about the adoption because she needs to prepare. It can’t be like “instant baby, just add water.”

  Claire and I went shopping yesterday while Steve was on a bike ride and Brandon rehearsed with his rock band, Chain. Claire keeps bugging us to go see them again, and I will have to give in eventually. They are just so loud, and I don’t know any of that music. Maybe Megan could teach me. Or stare at me in stony silence because I’m trying to replace her mother. Either way. Definitely one of those.

  Claire noticed my change in wardrobe selection, and of course called me on it. She’s lucky I don’t have the time or energy to tell her what she’s doing wrong anymore, now that my own life has turned into a soap opera.

  “It’s convenient that the office is so close to your condo. You can swing by there any time after work and check on the place. See if the pipes are still working.” Claire’s sarcasm was accompanied by a wink. “You could even deal with a mid-day pipe emergency on your lunch hour.”

  “You know, I don’t like what you’re insinuating. I’m just looking for some bargains on softer, more feminine summer work clothes.” As I said this I ditched the skintight tank dress I was holding, covering it with my growing collection of shopping bags.

  Claire eyed my move suspiciously. “Tell me you’re not stopping there after work tomorrow. Just to see how he’s settled in.”

  I took great interest in a rack of practical career skirts, and replied without making eye contact. “I do need to make sure everything is okay. After all, it’s my house. Renting it out is an investment.”

  Claire threw up her hands. “I give up.” She clutched a mounting pile of clothes to her chest and gestured towards the fitting rooms. “I’m trying these on.” Half way there, she turned around and said, “At the very least, I want details.”

  I shot her the evil eye and she disappeared behind the curtain. I remembered a more concerning issue and yelled out, “You need to find out what Steve and Brandon were talking about at the bar.”

  Back at the office on Monday, she still hasn’t gotten back to me yet with that information, but I’m patiently waiting. In the meantime, I am not going to my condo today to cheat on Steve with Luke. I know it looks that way, but I do need to check on things. Violet informed me that he did move in, but she hasn’t seen much of him, much to her disappointment.
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br />   As I settle back in to pondering Tim’s replacement, Gina bursts into my office.

  “Have you heard?” She’s a little breathless and flustered.

  “What now?” I don’t know what could possibly be wrong now. I hosted a companywide meeting this morning after I got the call from the board, so everyone knows that Tim is out.

  She closes my door, after glancing up and down the hall. She’s so dramatic.

  “Frank’s out, too.”

  “What do you mean?” The board didn’t even mention Frank.

  I went to his office to talk to him about a new manuscript, and his desk is cleaned out. I guess he wanted to be gone before Tim’s news hit the fan.”

  “That’s odd. His behavior seemed perfectly normal and professional.” As I say this, I glance at my five million e-mails and scroll down to one from Frank. I open it and say, “Oh, wow. He’s going back to New York to accept a standing job offer to return to his old company. He said he’s sorry for the abrupt departure, but he isn’t going to associate himself with Tim.”

  We both sit in silence for a moment. Our executives are dropping like flies. Why can’t there be a mass exodus of people like Harriet?

  I sink back into my chair. “My job is about to get busy.” I stretch out my shoulders and watch Gina continue to squirm.

  “I think it’s a blessing in disguise. Or maybe it’s not even in disguise. Pam would love a promotion, and this opens up opportunities for everyone, especially in the editorial department.”

  We continue to discuss the office and I let her know that I’ll do my best to find quality replacements and get this company back on track again.

  “Work is always easier to deal with than home.”

  “Things aren’t any better?” She pouts and leans forward.

  I update her on the events of the weekend, and I expect her to suggest putting a contract out on Eve’s life. Her remarks surprise me.

  “It’s about time I share this with you. I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to color your judgment.”