When she passed away last year, she willed this house to me, and I used the money from the sale of my little house in the Southside suburbs to renovate Grandma’s alteration studio into a fantastic, modern chef’s kitchen. I work on most of my large scale events from that space, as the house kitchen doesn’t have enough counter space or refrigerator/freezer capacity.
Plus Max can’t come home in the middle of the night from a show and eat some of the next day’s wedding reception food.
I sigh as I anticipate the night time family reunion of my daughter and her boyfriend. I adore Bianca, and Max really isn’t a bad guy. He’s a bit immature, yes. And lays around the house a little too much. But my daughter doesn’t understand that he’s the product of an old-fashioned family. The one time I met the Buczkowskis at their home, I had to bite my tongue every time Max’s father ordered his mother around.
Of course since Max values his life, he doesn’t do that with Bianca.
I scoop up Phoebe’s little, wiggly body and bring her into the house for her long awaited treat. This dog is incredibly patient. She can sit in my catering kitchen and not beg for hours, but as soon as we get home she knows she can have her special treats. Sometimes I bring her with me to Claire’s house when I pick Mick up, so Phoebe can play with the wiener dogs, and I crack up every time I see them begging for food. They would eat their own poo. Never mind, I think Claire told me they have done that.
I shake off that yucky thought and rummage through the treat bags to see what my little…
“YOU DID WHAT?!!!”
Oh, no. If I can hear Bianca yelling outside from the kitchen, this is going to be a bad one. At this time of day lots of people are coming home from work and walking their dogs, and I am losing my patience with being the neighborhood reality show.
I dash to the front door with Phoebe at my heels. She’s already started her yappy barking without any idea of what’s wrong. I peek out the front door windowpane and see Max standing next to a motorcycle, with Bianca’s mouth going a mile a minute and her hands flailing, with Mick on her hip. Oh great, and Rob is leaning up against the work van watching the whole thing. A lot of help he is.
I brace myself and open the front door. It’s times like these that I wish I had taken up prayer when my grandmother tried to teach me.
“What is going on out here? I can hear you in the kitchen. This is unaccept…oh hello, Mrs. Quincy. Sorry about the noise. Everyone is coming inside now. Right?”
I grit my teeth at my daughter and the Buffoon Brothers, as I switch back to a fake smile, while holding Phoebe back with my foot.
“Mom, ask him whose bike this is?”
Bianca folds her arms and I am struck by her pure fury. I walk over to her and take Mick out of her arms.
“Honey, please come in the house. Max, what are you up to now?”
He does have a motorcycle, but it’s parked in the back of the house, and it’s old and definitely not the gleaming, expensive looking one I see parked by the curb.
“I am trying to tell your sweet daughter that I bought this Harley with my hard-earned cash, and she is giving me shit about it.”
I bring Mick back in the house and hand him a toy, closing the screen door. I then approach the belligerent couple, hoping I can calm them down, or at least get them to lower their volume.
“Mom, that is a twenty-thousand-dollar bike. Do you understand that? It’s not on loan. He’s not test driving it. He fucking bought it!”
“With MY MONEY!”
Rob finally puts his arm on Max’s shoulder and I send him a silent thank you with my eyes.
“Bianca, I do agree Max should discuss these types of purchases with you, but maybe he wanted to surprise you.”
I don’t believe this horse shit I’m spewing, but she does like riding on a motorcycle, so maybe I can convince her it’s okay—at least until I can get them inside.
“Mom, we are living in YOUR house because supposedly we can’t afford to move out, and he has enough money to buy this?”
She points at the bike and I am seriously worried she is going to start scratching it with her car keys.
I open my mouth in another feeble attempt at defending him, but I can’t.
“You’re right, honey. I’m sorry, Max, but this was immature and thoughtless. You may not be married, but you do have responsibilities. You have a child.”
“Well, now that Bianca has a new job with that hot stuff business guy, she should be able to help pay for our own place. I’m the one who has been busting my ass for years while she sits around trying to figure out—”
“I’ll give you a busted ass!”
“Nothing to see here, Claude. Your flowers are coming up nicely this year.”
I grab Bianca’s thrashing body before the little old man across the street calls the police. “My daughter isn’t feeling well. I’m going to bring her in the house.”
Our quiet accountant neighbor looks nervously between Max and Rob, and mumbles something. As he flies towards his house while gaping, I half expect him to bounce off his glass door like a bewildered bird.
I whisper in my daughter’s ear, “Bianca Elise Osbourne, you will calm down and get in the house. You do not want your son witnessing this disgraceful display.”
She relaxes and I let her go. She shakes her body and stares at Max. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
“No, it’s not, because I saw you holding hands with that pansy banker guy this afternoon. Next time try having your ‘business’ lunches in a more secluded setting.”
Max uses the air quotes, which looks ridiculous when anyone does it, but even more so on a huge, muscle bound hothead. And what is he saying? Bianca just met this guy today. Didn’t she? I feel a headache coming on.
“Hey, bro, I hate to interrupt all this fun, but I need a ride home. Or are we waiting for your other delivery first?”
Rob stares at Max, who suddenly looks fearful. What else did this big dope buy?
I also notice that Bianca is defiantly silent in the face of Max’s accusations about the lunch. Hmm, what does that mean?
“That delivery will be coming a little later.” Max scratches his head and rubs his scruffy chin. “Birdie, it’s like this. I did buy the bike. But it’s a great deal. I got a loan so I didn’t blow all of our money. And then I found a great deal on a new set of drums. But they’re used.”
He flinches when he sees Bianca’s reaction. I swear I think her flaming red hair just caught fire.
Expecting a nuclear meltdown, I move back towards Bianca. She is stronger than me, but I will subdue her if I have to. I did it many times in her teen years.
“Drums? You bought a motorcycle and drums?” Her sudden calm is scarier than her previous rage. “I guess because of the new plans with the band. The touring? You’ll probably keep them at Brandon’s place, since that’s where you rehearse, right?”
“Yep, we’re gonna bring them there tonight. Right, Rob?” Max appeals to his brother for support.
Rob continues to look bored with the drama and replies, “Yep, that’s the big plan.”
“Awesome. And you’ll probably drive this bike everywhere now, when you don’t need the van. Right?”
Sometimes Max uses Bianca’s car. Oh God, I see where she’s going with…
“So, it looks to me like you’re all set. You have new drums at Brandon’s, a van for work and a bike for fun. Now if you would move your clothes and all of your other shit to Brandon’s…or straight to HELL…we’ll be done here.”
She turns to walk up the path to the front door. Turning back, she adds, “Because I wouldn’t want the father of my child to be homeless.”
Max sighs deeply and hangs his head. He moves towards her, but she puts up her hand, nails bared.
“No, I don’t want to hear any more. Just go. You didn’t even text me today and ask me how my meeting went. You think you saw something that you definitely didn’t see. You’re always focused on the wrong things, and you�
��re using my meeting as an excuse to get yourself out of this mess. It’s not happening this time. I have stuck with you for Mick’s sake, but I’m done now. You don’t care at all about what makes me happy. Or even about what’s right or reasonable. I’m not a doormat like your mother—”
“Hey, don’t you say anything about my mother. She’s a saint!”
“She surely is to put up with your father, who is a first class, royal asshole. And unfortunately you have followed in his footsteps. I am going out, and when I get back I expect you and all of your possessions to be gone. We’ll make arrangements for you to see Mick. I would never try to keep him from you, but I don’t want you in MY life.”
I can’t help but get teary-eyed after that speech. Bianca is a tough woman, but I know she is also a hurt little girl at times. Max looks like he’s about to cry, but I don’t know what to say to help them.
“Yeah, well you’re full of shit because I know it was your meeting with that smooth operator that turned you against me. They are not our people, Bianca!”
He yells at her disappearing form.
A moment later she reemerges, carrying Phoebe. She looks at me and says, “I’m taking Phoebe to Claire’s for some play time. I’ll be back in a little while. Max can say goodbye to Mick properly. Text me when he’s gone.”
She regards Max and adds, “I expect that you will not give my mother a hard time, and that you don’t show up at Brandon and Claire’s with your drum set until I have left.”
Max glares at her as she drives away. I know he probably wants to run to her, but since they have broken up so many times, I think he knows when talking to her is fruitless.
She is as temperamental as her chosen hair color suggests, but I have to support her decision. Who knows? Maybe there is a better man out there for her. In fact, I’m sure there is. Staying with a man for the sake of a child is no life.
I should be able to show my face outside again without Max living here.
A least I will as soon as my neighbors forget about this latest episode of ‘Sidewalk Sluggers.’
Bianca
“Cry with me, Bianca. Get it all out.”
Claire’s eyes are misting as she clutches my hand. How does Brandon deal with this level of over-the-top emotion?
“She doesn’t want to cry. She’s happy. Look at her.” Claire’s mother gestures towards me and asks, “Bianca, would you pass me those wet naps? Look at this child’s face.”
I hand over the wipes and she proceeds to attack Aidan’s face, as he contorts his body to avoid losing the extra applesauce he must be saving for later.
Claire huffs and sits up straighter. “Mom, this is a crisis. Max isn’t just some boyfriend. A family is breaking up.”
“I’m right here, you know? Hey, Mrs. McDonald, is that playdoh in your hair? It looks crunchy and multi-colored.”
“Please call me Claire, although I know that’s confusing.” She reaches up to touch her previously perfectly coifed head, and sighs. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what it is. I am going to be bald by the time these kids are in school. Or dead.”
She laughs but Claire says, “Mom, don’t say that! I told you we can try harder to get you more help.”
She turns to me and says, “That teenaged girl we had coming in to help after school was caught sexting her boyfriend in the bathroom.”
“At school?” That doesn’t seem like an uncommon occurrence.
“No, right here. Mom found her in the upstairs hall bathroom with her top off.”
“I do seem to have a knack for discovering naked women in this house.”
Claire’s mother is referring to glimpsing Tatiana, the Russian nanny, walking around topless when she was working in the Harmon household. She fired her, too. I really wouldn’t think it would be hard to find someone to take care of children who stays clothed.
I decide this is a good time to bring up a sensitive topic that will divert attention from my fresh breakup. I am still in denial of the changes my life has undergone in the past few hours.
“You know, I didn’t want to tell you this, but we’ve been using Tatiana to watch Mick on the weekends and a few evenings.”
Two sets of crazy eyes don’t deter me from pushing on. “I know you’re freaking out, but I am not the least bit worried about her around Max…well, especially now. And her sister enrolled her in English classes. Her English has improved and she’s good with Mick. I think she learned her lesson with the mess she caused here.”
“Are you suggesting we hire her to help my mother?”
“Well, I know you’re working from home a couple of days a week, but you still have to focus on your job, and Brandon is probably pulling all of his hair out, and you always say you love his hair.”
“I think we should do it.” Mrs. M. is craning her neck and staring into her compact mirror, while picking crusted goop out of her hair.
“What? Mom, you were the one who said you can’t believe we allowed—”
“I know, but things have changed. I’m here to supervise. And she never did anything wrong as far as taking care of Aidan, right? I can’t possibly keep doing this alone. I wanted to help you and Brandon out, especially after Aurora’s arrival, but seriously, I’m old. I love watching the little ones, but with Mick and little Ruby across the street added on a part time basis, it’s too much.” She smiles and looks at me. “But I don’t want to turn anyone away. I love all the little people, even Ruby can’t be blamed for her mother’s behavior.”
Claire slumps back into the couch cushion. “Fine. If you think you can handle it, and Tatiana isn’t too afraid of you to set foot in this house. I can’t believe both Diamond and Tatiana are still in my life after all that happened a few months ago.”
“You should be flattered. Your hubby is hot, and you know he didn’t cheat. Your mother will keep Tatiana in line, and Diamond is so enthralled with Rob, she doesn’t even look at Brandon anymore. Remember keep your enemies—”
“Close. I know, but Jeez. Do they have to be up my…anyway, Aidan did you put playdoh in Grandma’s hair?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bianca
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t take the job. I know you trust Raven, but let’s Google Eric and see what we find.”
I know my mother is only saying this because she got an earful from Max after I left yesterday, telling her he didn’t like the looks of the guy, and I don’t know what I’m getting myself into. He even said that I am going to be eaten alive by those uptight, rich bitches in Washington Hill. He’s jealous. And a big baby assh…
“Mom, whatever. Fine. Let’s do it.”
I scoot Phoebe over and sit next to my mother on the living room couch, peering at her laptop.
“He was professional and it’s a great opportunity. I get to set my own hours and the salon has plenty of leads. Apparently the clients have been complaining about the lack of a makeup artist for months. They want one place where they can get beautiful for an event or a night out. Some of these women go to all of this trouble for a date night with their husbands or a kid’s birthday party. It’s tough out there in rich people land. Lots of competition and judging.”
“Yeah, I feel so sorry for them.” Dripping with sarcasm, my mother types ‘Eric Kimball’ into the search box.
Eric is handsome in that expensive sort of way. I would guess he’s in his mid-thirties. Very confident without being pompous. His suit looked like it cost almost as much as Max’s Harley.
Okay, not quite, but it was impressive.
My stomach churns at that comparison. I haven’t responded to any of the texts Max has sent since our blowout yesterday, but the last one said, ‘Fine, I won’t contact you again.’
Once again a display of his immaturity. I know he’s upset, but really? Mick doesn’t have his own cell phone and my mother is not running interference because he’s too much of a…
“Oh my.” My mother has pulled up a bio of Eric on the Alexanders’ business website. Eac
h of their businesses has its own section and links to the individual sites. I am guessing this page was designed to attract investors.
And women who like hot, intelligent men with big wallets. And warm, caring smiles with rows of perfect teeth and lips that…
“This guy is something, Bianca. No wonder you were so quick to send Max packing.”
I jump back and Phoebe yelps. She’s so tiny that every quick movement scares her. I pick her up and rub her imagined boo-boo. My momentary distraction diverts my anger, but it snaps back fast.
“My decision to breakup with Max had nothing to do with my meeting with Eric. I was looking forward to telling Max all about the job, the salary and the chance for me to make money and help support our family. I was actually feeling a little guilty for putting all that burden on him for so long, but as soon as I saw his latest purchase I went nuts. It was the thing that finally pushed me over the edge. And you talked to him after I left, so you know he would continue to give me grief over Eric and the job. He’s a little boy in a big, muscled body.”
“And Eric is a—”
“A very good-looking, professional man. He’s a real adult. I asked him about his hobbies, and guess what? Not one of them involves killing zombies or throwing a ball as heavy and dense as his head—”
“Bianca, there is nothing wrong with bowling.”
“Mom, I know. I’m just sick of him. Max wasn’t contributing enough, and now I have the chance to make it on my own. And if the guy I have to work with happens to be enjoyable to look at, what’s the harm?”
He was also enjoyable to smell and his hand didn’t feel bad, either. Shit, maybe my mother is right, but Eric would never be interested in someone like me. This is a business relationship, and in time I’ll meet a better guy for me.
“There is no harm, Honey. Max is jealous and feels threatened by Eric. The Buczkowski brothers can’t handle strong, independent women.”
She closes the laptop and lays it on the coffee table.
“You’re right. And I learned from the best.”
Mom smiles at me and stands up. “I need to get back to the kitchen. So when are you going to get started?”
Accidental Makeovers Page 6
