They hung up. Margot took a couple of deep breaths.
Dietrich—what a nightmare. He was exactly the last thing she needed in her life. And come to think of it, she hadn’t even been thinking of him much at all. She laughed out loud. Had it finally happened? Was she actually over him once and for all? It was a miracle!
* * *
“You know I just sweated out five hundred calories at spin class,” Margot grumbled as she reached for a tortilla chip.
“All the more reason to load up on Mexican food.” Sunshine grinned. “Besides, it was my turn to pick the restaurant, so just suck it up, missy.”
Margot eyed the guacamole, as if she were trying to decide if it was worth it. Sunshine waited, knowing exactly what was going to happen. Her sister would hesitate, groan, then dig in.
“I respect that you make the effort,” Sunshine told her.
Margot sighed before scooping up guacamole. “I always give in. One day I’ll have the power.”
“Not over avocados, honey. Besides, they’re supposed to be a good fat.”
Margot laughed. “You’re in a happy mood.”
“I’m not. I’m seriously upset, but I’m pretending. I’m doing good, huh?”
Margot stared at her. “You’re not kidding. Why didn’t I notice right away? I’m sorry. Tell me what happened.”
“Nothing.” Sunshine was pleased to know her pitiful acting skills were improving. As her life was currently leaping from low point to low point—her work situation excluded—it was good to know she might be able to pretend things were all right even if they weren’t.
“Nothing significant,” she amended. “I went out on a date with a guy I thought was nice, and he was a jerk. I still don’t understand my math class, although I have my first TA session coming up so maybe that will help.”
“Tell me about the guy.”
“No way. He’s not worth any conversation. And I’ll get the math.”
Of that she was certain. Even if she had to take the class fifteen times, she was going to figure it out.
“I love my job,” she said firmly. “Connor’s a sweetie and Declan’s...” She hesitated, not sure what to say about her hunky boss. “Declan’s becoming a friend. I respect and admire him.”
Which was far more politically correct than saying that every now and then she wished they’d met under other circumstances.
“He seemed great,” Margot told her. “I didn’t get to talk to him much at the dinner, but my impression was really positive. Any chance you’d want to go out with him?”
Sunshine glared at her sister. “Seriously? I work for him. I’m his nanny. That would be tacky and certainly a violation of my personal code of ethics and just no. What if things went bad? I’d lose him and Connor and my job. Then I’d have nothing and I’d have to start over again. It would be a disaster.”
Instead of looking chagrined, Margot simply smiled. “Uh-huh. You never said you weren’t interested.”
Sunshine felt herself flush. “And I’m not interested.”
“Too late.”
Sunshine honest to God had no idea what to say. She wasn’t interested in Declan that way. She couldn’t be. The whole idea had disaster written all over it.
“I will show my love for you by changing the subject,” Margot said cheerfully. “Guess who’s trying to find me.”
“No! What is wrong with that man? I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”
“He got in touch with Kiska and she thinks I should give him another chance.”
“Did you tell her he’s already had twenty?”
“Pretty much, but here’s the good part.” Margot leaned toward her. “I don’t care that he wants to see me. I don’t care that I haven’t heard from him. I’m not relieved, I’m not upset, I’m not worried, I’m not anything.”
“Wow. You’re over him.”
“So over him.”
Margot raised her glass of iced tea. Sunshine did the same. They clinked glasses and smiled at each other.
“Baxter sisters rule,” Sunshine said firmly.
“You know it, sister. You know it.”
* * *
Alec was constantly struck by the similarities between life six thousand years ago and life today. Families, regardless of era, worried about children and the future. Wars threatened, illness and injury took beloved souls without warning and the seasons of humans kept time with the seasons of the earth.
He’d been working a translation that was in dispute. He had a copy of the original text, along with two different translations. Rather than compare them to each other, he first translated the text himself. Later he would compare the three and decide which translation was the best.
The work, a poem from 2232 BC, was simple yet emotional. A man at the end of his years reminiscing about his life, both his mistakes and his victories. He’d been a warrior until an injury had taken that career from him, so he’d started farming. Given his battle experience, he’d looked at crops differently than those raised on the soil, as he’d put it in his poem. He’d been the first in his village to suggest what farmers today would call crop rotation. He’d also invented clever ways to keep away the birds, rabbits and other creatures that ate too much and offered little in return.
Life had been simpler then, but it hadn’t been that different. Boys still dreamed of becoming strong men and doing brave things. They still sought to win the heart of the fair maiden, however that definition might change over time.
Alec made several notations in the margin of his work, then leaned back in his chair and stretched. When he finished his analysis, he would run the poem through a computer program that would offer a slightly more prosaic translation, giving him a fourth point of reference. While the program often missed the nuances in the ancient works, it sometimes provided a noteworthy word choice that could be a jumping-off point for further study.
He’d just picked up his pen when Bianca breezed into his office, a large vase filled with flowers in her hands.
“Hello, darling,” she said, smiling at him. “Remember when you were a little boy and you used to pick me flowers all the time? I was thinking about that today for some reason. Remember that old lady who lived next to us? Mrs. Pearce? You were forever in her gardens and she would phone me, shrieking about how you’d stolen her flowers. You were maybe five or six and she got so upset.”
Bianca set the vase on the credenza, then slipped into one of the chairs opposite his desk. Her smile was conspiratorial.
“I told you that she loved you picking flowers and that you should pick some for her as a thank-you.”
“I don’t remember any of this.” Not that he doubted it had happened. His mother was exactly the type to send him back to the scene of the crime to commit it again.
“The old bag was delighted,” she said with a laugh. “So touched by your sweet gesture. After that, we couldn’t get rid of her. I began to worry she would sneak in at night and kidnap you for herself.”
“I doubt that was an actual concern.”
“You’re wrong. You were the sweetest little boy.”
Not words designed to make him comfortable. He shifted his gaze to the vase. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“I made sure not to pick any poisonous ones. At least I’m fairly sure I was careful.” She studied her hands, then raised them and showed him both sides. “No rash.”
“Declan does have a sense of humor when it comes to plants.” Not that anything was actually deadly, but there were a few species one had to be careful with.
He returned his attention to his mother. She sat comfortably in her chair and showed no signs of leaving. He bowed to the inevitable.
“How are you liking your lessons?”
“They’re much better now. Margot and I have an understanding. She’s taking me to a beauty pageant.
I’ve never been to one. Of course I’ve seen them on television, but this will be different. The contestants are younger. Junior high age, I think.”
“What is the purpose of the exercise?”
Bianca waved her hand. “Something about something. I wasn’t really paying attention. She’ll explain it to me again when we go. She’s very thorough that way. We’re also looking for some kind of event where I can practice my social skills. She’s trying to get me to go to a charity function but I was thinking it should be edgier than that.”
Alec felt the beginning of a headache. “Edgier?”
“Yes, like a political fund-raiser. People aren’t on their best behavior there. It would be more appealing to me. Besides, Wesley works for a government, not a nonprofit.”
She had a point, which was always terrifying.
“How is Wesley?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Wonderful. The man of my dreams. We’re blissfully happy. What do you think of Margot?”
As always, when it came to his mother, it took him a second to catch up. “No,” he said firmly, when her meaning sank in. “Just no.”
His mother’s smile turned smug. “She’s very beautiful, in a quiet way, which I imagine would be appealing to you. She’s smart and reasonable. I would think you two would be well suited.”
“No. Don’t meddle in my personal life.”
“You don’t have a personal life, which is exactly my point. Margot is lovely. As far as I can tell, she isn’t seeing anyone. I know this violates your rule about sex in your own house, but darling, please, you need a woman. And you have one, right under your nose.” She smiled again. “So to speak.”
“Stop. Just stop.”
“I’m sure she would say yes. From what I’ve heard from a couple of your previous lovers, you’re actually very considerate in bed and are quite skilled when it comes to the female orgasm, so there’s no worry on that front.”
He wasn’t even shocked. That, he supposed, was nearly the worst of it. Not being shocked at all. This simply was—as it had always been—his mother in action.
“I will not go there with you,” he said firmly.
She rose and winked. “That’s fine, darling, as long as you go there with someone. I’m just saying, she’s right upstairs. Take a risk and see what happens.”
He pointed to the door. She laughed as she walked out, leaving him alone. Only the comfort and serenity of that state had been lost. Now all he could think about was Margot and the very likely scenario that his mother had had a similar conversation with her.
* * *
Sunshine arrived at the tutoring session fifteen minutes early. It was being held in a small classroom with only about fifteen desks. They’d already been pulled into a circle, so she took one by the door and wrestled out her massive textbook and her homework.
They were in chapter three, studying graphs and functions, and it was not going well. She understood how to rewrite an equation to make it a standard form of a linear equation, but the graphing part still didn’t make sense. The professor had already done a surprise homework collection, so Sunshine had passed that, but she’d only gotten a C minus on the first quiz, which had been disheartening. She’d studied for two days and hadn’t done better than that?
The room filled up. Two o’clock came and went and there was no TA. Finally at two-ten, a scruffy looking guy in his midtwenties strolled in.
“Whassup?” he asked, slumping into the chair at the last desk and yawning. “Okay, I’m Ron. I’m a grad student at UCLA and I only do this for the money. You have thirty minutes, people, so let’s not waste my time. Ask your questions and let’s see if we can help you scrape by in what I like to call remedial math.”
Sunshine saw shock on all the other students’ faces. She was sure she looked as stunned. Ron yawned again.
“Tick, tock,” he said. “Questions? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?” He laughed. “Get it? From Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. No? All right then.” He saw Sunshine. “Hey, there. Who are you?”
“One of your remedial math students,” she snapped. “We’re here for help.”
“I can help you any day of the week, beautiful. Want my number?”
Sunshine felt herself flushing. She turned away and wondered if she should just walk out.
“I have a question,” a woman in her class said. “I don’t understand graphing very well.”
“Of course you don’t.” Ron stood and walked to the board. “Read me a problem.”
When the woman didn’t say anything, Ron turned to her and pointed. “Open your book to that chapter and read me a problem. Come on, people, this isn’t rocket science or even hard math. Let’s go.”
The woman looked startled. “Um, y = 2x + 6.”
Ron walked through the solution. He explained what he did as he went and Sunshine was able to follow. Before she could figure out if she thought she could do it on her own, he’d moved on to another question.
He repeated his process until the thirty minutes was up. By then, her head was spinning. Yes, she could understand why he did what he did, but there was no chance to practice, no way to know if she understood the concept. Everyone else looked as confused as she felt. Weren’t TA sessions supposed to help?
“That’s it for me,” Ron said, putting down the dry erase marker. “This has been so much fun. I’ll be back next week.” He crossed to Sunshine and waited until she collected her backpack and stood. “Hey, you. I’m Ron.”
“So I heard.”
“Want to go get coffee? I’m free right now. You are a fine-looking woman, you know that? A little older, but hey, more experienced.” He winked. “At least that’s what they say.”
She slung her backpack over her shoulder and let her gaze linger over his shaggy hair, his scraggly beard, a stain on his faded T-shirt and his dirty jeans.
On the inside, she was crushed, not sure if she had the ability to get through what he’d referred to as remedial math, but no way she was going to let him see that. Self-preservation was a powerful motivator and someone had to give Ron a kick in the balls.
“You?” She smiled, then let the smile grow until she was laughing. “God, no.”
With that, she turned and walked out. She heard a couple of people sniggering, which should have made her feel better, but didn’t.
One of the young women from the session caught up with her. “You should report him,” she told Sunshine. “That’s sexual harassment and it’s illegal.”
“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
“He was just a total jerk, talking down to us like that. He’s supposed to help us. Well, screw him.”
Sunshine offered a tight smile. “See you in class.”
The other student nodded. “See you.”
Sunshine headed for her car. She told herself she was going to figure this out. Obviously not with Ron, but somehow. She might not have been to college before, but she wasn’t an idiot. Other people got through classes—she could, too. She had to. She was determined to be more than she had been before and there was no way she was going to allow herself to get stalled before she’d even started.
* * *
“I’m very excited about this afternoon,” Bianca said as Margot pulled into the high school parking lot. “I’ve never been behind the scenes at a beauty pageant before.”
“I’m hoping you’ll enjoy the experience. We’ll start out in the audience for a while, then move backstage. What we’re going to see is the preliminary round for talent and the interview.”
“Maybe I’d like to be a judge.”
“Let’s see how this morning goes, then we can talk about it.”
“That’s very noncommittal.”
Margot smiled. “Yes, well, there’s a lot more to being a judge than most people think. Every pageant has different rules and different crite
ria. The winner is far more than the prettiest girl. She has to have a certain quality that is larger than life and often difficult to define.”
“You’re saying I don’t have the attention span?”
“I’m saying we’ll talk after you observe for a while.”
Bianca linked arms with Margot. “Such a diplomat. I should ask Wesley if there’s a rising young star in his social circles and introduce you two.”
“Thank you, but no.”
“Because you’re already interested in someone else?” Bianca’s tone was teasing, but there was a real question in her eyes.
Margot immediately thought of Alec, then pushed the thought away. “Let me explain how the morning is going to go.”
Bianca sighed. “Really? That’s the best you can do for a deflection?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. How is the morning going to go?”
Bianca’s cooperation was surprising, but she’d been that way for the past couple of days. When they’d discussed wardrobe for their outing, Bianca had agreed to a pretty but conservative dress and a little extra makeup. Margot had chosen a floral print fit-and-flare dress. She’d put her hair up in a fancy twist, wrestled herself into pantyhose and wore nude pumps that pinched her toes. Her handbag was a small clutch in the same pale pink as the background of the floral print, her earrings were simple pearl studs and she’d made time for a manicure.
When returning to a foreign land, it was important to fit in with the natives, she thought as they walked toward the auditorium.
“This is a pre–Junior Miss,” she told Bianca. “You don’t have to win here to compete at the Junior Miss level, but it helps. At least, it used to be called Junior Miss when I was growing up. They changed it to Distinguished Young Women. Just competing here gives you a leg up. It’s good experience and if you pay attention, you can learn a lot.”
“Are you saying I can learn a lot or the girls can?”
“Both.”
They walked into the auditorium. Margot guided them to seats in the back, on the side, out of the way of family members taking videos and anyone else who had come just to watch. She wanted to have a clear view of the stage, but also be able to talk without disturbing anyone.
The Summer of Sunshine and Margot Page 18
