California Girls

by Susan Mallery

  “It won’t happen again,” Molly said, her voice muffled by the wall and what Zennie would guess were her tears. “Please, Dr. Chen. Don’t throw me off the team.”

  Zennie tugged on an oversize T-shirt and hurriedly shoved her dirty scrubs into her bag. She pulled on her athletic shoes and quickly tied them before hurrying out of the locker room.

  Once in the hallway, she paused to take a breath. She wasn’t meeting her girlfriends until five, so she had some time to kill. She headed to the cafeteria, not wanting to hear any more of the not-so-private conversation.

  Monday night workouts were a standing date with her friends. They were meant to counteract whatever wildness happened over the weekend. In addition to sweating out carbs and alcohol, the women used the time to catch up, offering advice for the crisis du jour.

  The gym was only a block away. The state-of-the-art facility offered everything from spin classes to rock climbing. The dues were insanely expensive, but hospital employees got a sizable discount and for Zennie, the price was worth it. She loved trying different classes and staying in shape. Given Dr. Chen’s preference for predawn start times for his surgeries, she usually went after her shift was over rather than before.

  The Monday night workouts were more social than challenging, but she figured taking it easy once a week wasn’t going to kill her.

  Once she reached the cafeteria, she settled at a back table. It was too early for most people to be eating dinner, and the floor nurses were right in the middle of shift change, so she practically had the place to herself. All the easier to think, she told herself, which was handy, as she had a lot on her mind.

  Ignoring Molly’s plight, about which she could do nothing, there was still her own life to deal with. Her friends would want an update on Clark, and they weren’t going to like what she told them. Sadly, they would all be more upset than she was. For her part, she would be thinking about Bernie’s request. She’d thought of little else in the past twenty-four hours.

  Zennie had decided not to do any research—not right away. She wanted to let the idea sit for a few days, to see how it felt. Her instinct had been to call Bernie as soon as she got home and say of course she would be her surrogate, but she’d stopped herself. This was a big decision and she needed to be both prepared and informed.

  She remembered how scared she’d been when her best friend had first been diagnosed with cancer. How she’d wanted to help and, despite her medical training, there’d been exactly nothing she could do. Driving Bernie to chemo, stocking the refrigerator and cleaning her house had been insignificant things. She couldn’t cure her friend or stop the vomiting or give her hair or promise her a long, happy life. That sense of being useless had depressed her, although she’d done her best not to show it. Now there was a tangible act she could perform. Saying no didn’t feel like an option.

  Still, Zennie knew she had to make a thoughtful decision. Having a baby would change things for her. Being pregnant would impact her body and her life.

  She grabbed her backpack and walked to the stairs. She went up to the sixth floor, past the nurses’ station to the nursery.

  Ten babies lay swaddled in pink or blue blankets, tiny heads covered with delicate caps. Several visitors stood together, pointing and talking, some laughing, others giving in to joyful tears.

  Zennie had never been a baby person. Her mother’s pleas to make her a grandmother fell on deaf ears. But now, staring at the newborns, she tried to imagine what it would be like to desperately want children and know you could never give birth to your own. It was an emptiness that would never go away, she thought sadly.

  She closed her eyes and remembered how easily she and Bernie had become friends, how they’d gotten through college together. She remembered Bernie’s mom dropping off food for them at the dorm and sunny afternoons she and Bernie had spent at the beach. She thought of the laughter and the cramming for tests and the nights they’d stayed up for hours talking about life after they graduated. She remembered meeting Hayes and knowing the second he smiled at Bernie that he was the one. She remembered their wedding, and the terror when Bernie had told her she had cancer.

  She would do her research, Zennie promised herself. Because it was the right thing to do. But unless she discovered something totally awful, there was no way she could turn down her friend. She loved Bernie and she would do anything for her, especially if it gave her her heart’s desire.

  * * *

  Vistaprint came through with flying colors, Ali thought as she opened the box delivered on time and in perfect condition. She’d had the wedding cancellation cards shipped to her work location so she could get started on spreading the not-so-joyful news.

  She stared at the postcards. The font was nice, she thought, trying to find something to like in the simple graphic and carefully worded message. Nowhere did she call Glen an asshole or indicate his dick was inadequate. She’d taken the high road and one day she would be happy about that. One day she would be proud of herself for being mature and selfless. Until then, she was going to think about how much she hated him because that was easier than being humiliated every second of every day.

  The hate was actually really interesting, she thought as she pulled out a stack of cards. It chased away all the good feelings she’d ever had about him. She knew she was still in shock but honestly she wasn’t missing him as much as she would have thought. Of course having to cancel a wedding might have something to do with that. It was difficult to feel all warm and fuzzy when she was negotiating with an angry caterer.

  Ali put the box of cards in her locker, other than the stack on her desk to distribute before she left for the day, then went to see her boss. Outside of family and Daniel, Paul would be the first to know. His reaction would give her an idea of what to expect.

  Paul Battle was a grizzled old guy with curly hair and a perpetual frown. He was gruff, demanding and more than a little intimidating. Ali had been terrified of him for nearly a year until she’d suffered through a stint working at the customer service counter. The company did most of their business through internet orders but there were a handful of local customers who came in personally.

  Ali had been on her second day of filling in for a guy on vacation and she’d been having trouble figuring out how to process a return. The customer had started screaming at her, calling her stupid and yelling for a manager.

  Paul had intervened, glowering at them both. Before Ali could explain the situation, the customer had lit into them both, calling her names and demanding she be fired. Paul had looked at her, then at the customer before telling the guy that this was his fault. He was the moron who had ordered the wrong part to begin with. And if he didn’t like being called names, he should stop doing it to other people. Ali was good at her job and filling in with little notice and minimal training. He’d said for the other guy to act like a human being or shop elsewhere.

  Ali still remembered how stunned she’d been by Paul’s complete defense. When she’d tried to thank him later, he’d brushed off her comment, muttering she did a good job and he wanted to see her advance in the company.

  Now, as she approached his office, she tried to figure out what to say and how to say it. When she knocked on his half-open door, she was still clueless, so she walked in when invited and handed him the postcard.

  “I wanted you to know,” she said as he began to read.

  Paul scanned the postcard, turned it over, then looked at her. “He ended things?” he asked.

  The question was unexpected, but she nodded. “I don’t know why. He won’t talk to me.”

  “Let it go. He’s not worth it. He was never going to make you happy.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  Paul shrugged. “Just something about him. You okay?”

  “I’m dealing.” She stared at him. “You’re not surprised, are you?”

  “No, but I’m s
orry. You should still take off the vacation week you had planned. You know, to get over him.”

  She had the time coming so why not? Wedding or not, she would be moving and could use the week to get settled.

  “I will.” She pointed to the card. “I’m going to slip one of those into all the lockers before I leave. I’ll deal with the questions tomorrow.”

  “Good idea. I really am sorry, Ali. Glen’s an idiot. You’ll find the right guy someday.”

  She smiled and left his office. When she was back at her desk, she tried not to read too much into his use of the word someday. As if the prospect of her finding anyone was possible but unlikely.

  The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. She got a text from her father saying he’d heard what had happened and was sorry. A text, she thought grimly. God forbid he should pick up the phone and call. She felt herself battling crabby and hurt in equal measures and knew it was just a matter of time until she snapped.

  On the drive home she mentally went through the to-do list she had to plow through that evening. Daniel had told her he would be by to discuss how canceling the photographer had gone. Honestly, if he’d done a halfway decent job and was willing, she was going to give him more to do. Her workload had just increased, what with her having to find somewhere to live.

  She pulled into her parking space. Before she could collect her bag and the box of postcards, Daniel was opening her car door.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, his voice both caring and upbeat.

  At the sight of him, she relaxed. Whatever crap was going on, she knew she could count on him to help. He wasn’t going to say anything stupid or hurt her feelings or tell her to get back together with Glen.

  Unfortunately relaxing her body led to relaxing the tight control she’d been keeping on her emotions. Before she knew what was happening, she was out of her car, throwing herself into his arms and bursting into tears.

  “Everything’s a mess,” she sobbed, clinging to him. “I can’t believe it. My boss wasn’t even surprised, my dad texted me to say he was sorry instead of calling, my mother wants me to use the free time I supposedly have to help her go through her house, I’ve lost my apartment and Glen sent me a check for five hundred dollars! Like that will do anything. I keep thinking I’ve hit bottom, but I haven’t. It’s only getting worse.”

  Daniel held on to her, rubbing her back as she gave in to those ugly choking sobs that always ended in hiccups. By the time she stepped back, she was pretty sure she looked just as bad as she felt—all blotchy and puffy and damp.

  She sniffed and wiped her face with her hands, then reached for her handbag and the Vistaprint box.

  “I’m not usually so emotional,” she said, knowing she sounded defensive and embarrassed. “I want you to know I generally keep myself together.”

  “Ali, don’t waste time explaining all that to me. I know you’re a very capable, smart, caring person. Your only flaw was falling for my brother.”

  “You can’t know that,” she told him. “Before Glen dumped me, I barely ever saw you and when we were together at family functions, we didn’t talk.”

  “I know.”

  He took the box from her, then put his arm around her as they walked to her apartment. Once they were inside, he pushed her toward the bathroom.

  “Go wash your face or take a shower or whatever you’d like to feel better. I’m going to go grab some Chinese food for dinner. We’ll eat and we’ll plan and by the time we’re done, we’ll have it all figured out.”

  She doubted that, but appreciated his optimism.

  “I know you’re doing this out of guilt because of Glen, but I want you to know that I really appreciate you taking care of me,” she told him. “You are the best guy ever. I mean ever. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

  He shoved his hands into his jeans’ front pockets. “Yeah, I’m not feeling that much Glen guilt. I think he’s an idiot, but that’s his problem. I’m helping because I want to.”

  For a second, she would have sworn he was going to say more, but instead he flashed her that sexy smile of his.

  “Anything I should steer clear of when I order the food?” he asked.

  “I like all the usual stuff. Oh, lo mein instead of rice for me, please.” She grinned. “It heats up better for lunch. The rice can dry out.”

  “A lady with a plan. I like it.”

  Twenty minutes later she had showered and put on her favorite cropped jeans and the Dodgers T-shirt Daniel had bought her. She hadn’t bothered to blow out her hair, letting it dry curly. She’d always been so careful to do her hair because Glen liked it straight. Maybe this weekend, she would take a few minutes and put on makeup. She could use her favorite black eyeliner and do that little cat eye thing she’d always thought was cute and sexy. Glen had hated that, too.

  While she was de-Glenning her life, she should get rid of all the button-down shirts she’d bought because he said they were more attractive than the T-shirts and sweaters she favored. Ali had always thought the button-down shirts looked awful on her body type. She was too busty and curvy and they always bunched on her. And the loafers, she thought, walking barefoot to the kitchen. She actually owned loafers because of a man. Just as soon as she got her financial house in order, she was going to go buy the funkiest sneakers she could find and wear them proudly.

  She went into the kitchen and set the table. Once she’d put out plates and flatware, she got her tote bag and the files she carried with her. Planning the wedding required organization and scheduling. Unplanning was much the same, only in reverse. This weekend she wanted to make up a master spreadsheet so that nothing was missed.

  Daniel returned with a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other. He held up the beer.

  “I took a chance on this,” he said. “If you’d prefer wine...”

  “Beer is so what you drink with Chinese food,” she said with a laugh. “Everyone knows that.”

  He set out two beers and put the rest in the refrigerator. She looked in the bag and then back at him.

  “There’s food for twenty in here.”

  “You said you’d take it for lunch. I wanted there to be enough.”

  How much did he think she ate in a day? Not that it mattered. She grinned. “I’ll make up a lunch for you, too,” she told him. “You’ll see what I mean about the lo mein.”

  She started to set out cartons of food. He’d bought kung pao chicken, Mongolian beef, honey shrimp, combination lo mein and combination fried rice, crab wontons, BBQ spare ribs and crispy green beans. By the time the bag was empty, Ali was laughing.

  “You went a little crazy.”

  “I wanted to make sure you had something you liked.”

  “I could eat all of it.” She put the carton of lo mein in the refrigerator. “We can have this tomorrow and eat the rice tonight.”

  He sat across from her and they began opening cartons and dishing up food. “How did it go with the photographer?” she asked.

  “You should have an emailed cancellation confirmation waiting for you. There’s no cancellation fee and you’ll be getting back half your deposit.”

  She felt her eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

  “Very. The guy told me he had at least three other events that want him that night. It was no big deal.”

  It was to her. The deposit had been a thousand dollars. Getting half of that back doubled Glen’s measly check.

  “You’re amazing.”

  Daniel winked. “Yeah, that never gets old. You have any other vendors I can call?”

  “I do. The flowers for sure. Oh, and the limos and the DJ.” She winced. “Is that too much?”

  “No. I’ll get the contact information before I leave tonight and take care of it first thing tomorrow. I also want you to give me the file with all the address
es. I’ll get your postcards labeled and mailed.”

  “You can’t possibly do all that.”

  “Yeah, well, I won’t be doing the postcards myself. I have office staff who will put on the labels and the postage.”

  “I don’t care if you’re exploiting your employees, you’re really saving me.”

  His gaze was steady as they spoke. He was nothing like she’d thought. For some reason every time she’d met Daniel before, she’d assumed he didn’t like her or disapproved of her, but that wasn’t him, at all. He was a kind, dependable guy who gave great hugs and overbought Chinese food. Talk about a miracle.

  “Did Glen really send you five hundred dollars?” he asked.

  Her good mood popped like a balloon. “He did. He’s such a jerk. Why didn’t I see that before? Did everyone know but me? Has he always been hideous or did I bring out the worst in him? I wish I could—”

  She stopped talking and glanced at Daniel. “Sorry.”

  “What?”

  “You’re Glen’s brother.”

  “Not an issue. To answer the question, he’s always been a jerk, but this is the worst thing he’s done. A close second was threatening to take me to court over our uncle’s will.”

  “I don’t know anything about that.” She picked up her beer bottle. “Tell me.”

  “My dad’s older brother John was a rebel. He raced motorcycles and disappeared for months at a time. No one knew where he went or what he did.” He looked at her. “All this was before I was born. Apparently he was a legend in the family. So one time he came back with a lot of money. Like a couple hundred thousand dollars. In cash.”

  “Where did he get it?”

  “No one knows. He bought some land in Sunland and put in a motocross track. The sport was just getting going then. By the time I was seven, he had added a couple more tracks and the concession stands.”