The Second Chance Supper Club

by Meier, Nicole

  After dialing his number, she waited. A coil of angst wrapped around her middle. Finally, James picked up.

  “Hey.” He sounded rushed and short of breath. The dull roar of street traffic could be heard rumbling in the background. It struck Julia how dissimilar their current environments were. There, James was full of purpose, surrounded by people and energy and noise, while Julia was a thousand miles away, floundering in a scene one might find on a nature channel. The only activity she heard at present was the shrill call of what she’d come to identify as a family of quail nesting somewhere beyond her window. That and the beating of her own quickening pulse.

  Breaking the news to James was going to be tough.

  “Hi,” she said, trying to mask the apprehension in her voice. “Is this a good time?”

  “You just caught me on my way to lunch.”

  “I was hoping I would,” Julia said. She inhaled and eased down onto the bed. “Why are you panting?”

  “Busy day. I have another meeting in ten, but if I don’t get something to eat, I might chew off my arm.” She pictured James out on the crowded sidewalk, his dark suit jacket and expensive tie flapping in the wind as he hustled down the block of high-rise buildings. It was unlike him to sound frazzled. He usually carried an air of confidence that unnerved most people. Julia twisted her engagement ring around on her finger. Maybe the last argument between them had bothered him more than she’d realized.

  Guilt moved in. Because of her choices, the people in her life were suffering.

  “Oh, well, I don’t want to hold you up if it’s a bad time.” She swallowed, hoping he might cut her off and disagree. But James said nothing in response. “I only wanted to tell you I’m still thinking about everything you said. I know I’ve created a mess. And I didn’t mean to leave you in the lurch. Truly. But now that I’m here at Ginny’s, it’s become clear she needs me. Her personal life is kind of in shambles too. Anyway, I promised to stay for a few more days. Then I can come home and we can really talk.”

  The rapid breathing quieted. James had apparently stopped walking and was now standing still. “You’re staying longer?”

  Julia pulled at a loose thread on the bedcover. “Um, yeah. Just a few days.”

  “Seriously?” James blurted.

  She dropped the thread and stiffened.

  “What about your job? I mean, surely it doesn’t look good to GBN that you’ve taken off when your position is on the line.” His speech sped up, the irritation in his voice increasing.

  “It’s okay. I’ve talked to Peter. They got someone to fill in. I’m sort of on extended leave.”

  “Of your own creation.” This time an acrid tone edged his reply.

  Julia frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  “Are you on leave from work or from me, Julia? Because I’m having a hard time understanding all of this. Your life is here, in New York. Not in the middle of the desert. Why are you running away? This isn’t the woman I fell in love with. You’re acting like someone I don’t even know right now!” Julia reared back, pulling the phone from her ear. What exactly was he accusing her of?

  “James, you don’t have to shout.”

  “Well, apparently I do. Because lately you just aren’t hearing me.”

  And you’re not hearing me either, she wanted to say. Why did he have to push her so hard? Couldn’t he understand she wasn’t ready to come back? To face the damage? That she needed to be somewhere quiet to recalibrate and lick her wounds? But no, she thought. He wouldn’t. Not James. He was a big believer in a constant show of strength, in going after what you wanted in order to get ahead in the world. Julia wasn’t sure she could catapult herself onto his level. Not yet, anyway.

  “Hello?” Now he was just plain angry.

  Julia sighed. “Yes, I’m here. I don’t know what to say. I’m not like you. I can’t just go charging back through the doors of the network when they’ve ordered me out. I’m respecting their wishes, and I’m taking some time for myself while I do that. I’m visiting my family and home state. Why is that so unreasonable?”

  “Whatever, Julia. Do what you want. But if it were me, and I had an anchor position with a high-profile news show, I’d fight to keep my spot. I guess you don’t care enough. And I guess you don’t care about us either. Thanks for letting me know. I have to get to my meeting.”

  “James—”

  “I have to go.” The line went dead before Julia could find the words to respond. Dumbstruck, she kept the phone up to her ear and stared at the wall. Had he really just hung up on her? She hadn’t even had a chance to explain how being suspended and replaced was affecting her dwindling sense of self-worth. He’d cut her off. He’d made her decisions all about him.

  Slowly, Julia peeled herself from the rumpled bed. Despite the pinpricks of stinging tears, she refused to wallow. If she stayed there, with the shades drawn in that darkened room, she might sink deeper into her funk. The thought frightened her. There was too much that required her attention. Ginny and Olive needed her. Guests would be arriving in a few hours. And Peter would, most likely, be contacting her later with documents to sign. She couldn’t lose it now, not when so much was at stake.

  James and his wounded feelings were going to have to once again be put on the back burner. She’d find a way to make him understand.

  Smoothing her clothes, she filled her lungs with a cleansing breath and went out in search of the others. Maybe it would be better to be with people right now. Otherwise, the pull of despair might be too great.

  The clock on her phone read eleven thirty. Slipping it into her back pocket, she prayed for the remainder of the day to improve. Ginny’s dinner guests—all twelve of them—weren’t set to arrive until five o’clock. She wondered if, now that Olive was home, all three of them would sit down and have lunch together. Maybe find a way to set all the contention aside and talk. Maybe she could even run into town to pick up sandwiches. Hearing the whir of a mixer, Julia went to find out what Ginny thought of her idea.

  She found her sister in the kitchen, putting together some kind of liquid green puree, a sharp dip of concentration on her brow. Olive was also there, her bare feet planted at the sink as she filled vases with water and wrestled with a tightly wrapped bunch of stems. Both women had their backs to one another, and neither was speaking. Julia eyed the loud mixer and wondered if this was how they normally went about their days, in a carefully orchestrated dance of avoidance.

  While their sibling connection had splintered, she’d always figured Ginny at least had Olive. There had been times, after their parents died and before James came along, when Julia had even fostered a mild jealousy—her sister had a family while she had no one. But it was clear now that she’d been so very wrong in that regard.

  She and Ginny had both suffered from loneliness. And for this, she was deeply saddened.

  “Hey.” She came over to rest a hand on Ginny’s shoulder, hoping not to take her by surprise. Ginny spun around and then flicked off the mixer.

  “Hi. I didn’t see you there.”

  “That’s okay. I was thinking maybe I’d run into town and grab us all something to eat. Maybe we could break for lunch and catch up a little? You know, before the craziness of this evening takes over?”

  Ginny glanced at Olive and then back to Julia. Her frown softened.

  “Why not? I don’t have time to make lunch. You know where you’re going?”

  Julia had an idea. She’d seen a little deli on the way to the farmers’ market. “Yeah. I’ll be back in a half hour.” She brightened. This was good. All she had to do was get them to sit down in the same room and perhaps some of the ice would melt.

  Jogging toward the driveway, she only hoped Ginny and Olive would behave themselves long enough for it to happen.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  GINNY

  The three of them sat huddled around a teak table on the back patio in uncomfortable silence. In front of them were unfolded squares of white butcher pape
r, revealing artisan sandwiches on thick focaccia bread slathered in mustard and layered with peppered roast turkey, cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. Ginny nibbled on hers and waited for Olive to deliver the blow that would surely hurt Julia’s feelings.

  Her daughter picked lethargically at the bread slices and scrunched up her face in a pained expression. Ginny held her breath. Five, four, three, two, one . . .

  “No offense, Aunt Julia,” Olive said with a huff. “I just don’t do meat.”

  “Pfft.” Ginny rolled her eyes and waited for Julia’s response. Olive shot a white-hot glare in her direction.

  Ginny looked away. Why couldn’t her daughter just suck it up? Julia didn’t know Olive was a vegetarian. If she even was one. The girl’s preferences had changed so often that Ginny couldn’t keep up. Olive tended to be obnoxiously picky, and nothing drove a chef crazier than a picky eater. Half the time, she believed Olive swore off a new food just to irk her.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t—” A look of dismay flashed on Julia’s face.

  “It’s not your fault,” Ginny chimed in. “One never knows what Olive’s trend du jour will be these days. It changes all the time.”

  Julia’s eyes widened. “I didn’t realize—”

  “Trend du jour? Really, Mom? That’s respectful.” Olive pushed her sandwich back and sulked.

  “Sorry, Olive. I would have gotten you a veggie sandwich if I’d known.” Julia’s face colored as she offered an unsteady smile in Olive’s direction.

  “That’s okay. Really. I’m sure my mom probably told you turkey would be fine. She tends to overlook my choices. Not your fault.”

  “Oh my god!” Ginny felt a surge of rage. This kid was just too damn much sometimes. Was she really going to sit there and insult her in front of Julia? Had she no shame at all? Where was the open-minded, sensitive girl that used to exist? Gone, that’s where. And in her place was a spoiled bohemian brat.

  “Hey, hey, you two. There’s no need to get upset. It’s just a silly sandwich. No harm, no foul.”

  Ginny threw her head back and let out a sharp cackle.

  “What’d I say?”

  “You said ‘no fowl,’” Olive said flatly. She matched her mother’s exaggerated eye roll and tipped back in her chair. Ginny and Julia both looked on as she took a long pull from her oversize bottle of kombucha with a bored expression.

  “Ah.” Julia turned to give Ginny a sidelong glance. She ran a hand through her hair. “Glad I can make someone around here laugh.”

  Ginny shook her head with disbelief and then sank a hearty bite into her bread. The truth was, she felt as if she might be coming a little unhinged. She’d only laughed in an effort not to cry. If her daughter wasn’t going to send her over the edge, then her diminished bank account surely would. What the other two didn’t know was that while she’d been in her bedroom, just stepping from the shower, the bank had called with an automated recording regarding her overdrawn account. Again. And Ginny had no idea when she might be able to pay it back. If both Julia and Olive abandoned her to run Mesquite alone—which they most likely would—then where would she be? It was a miracle that Julia had showed up when she did, but her support was only temporary.

  And by the state of their lunch conversation, this current arrangement wasn’t working out for any of them.

  “So, Aunt Julia,” Olive said, plucking out a leaf of lettuce from her rejected lunch, “how come you’re here and not at your job? Isn’t that show you do, like, on every morning?”

  Ginny paused midbite and cocked her head. She was irritated by Olive’s snarky tone, but she was also interested. Of course, she knew about her sister’s vacation time and avoidance of her relationship troubles back home. But what about her job? She didn’t seem to have a timeline in returning to it. She’d said as much on that first morning over breakfast. But Julia had also kept the details of her job sparse, acting as if the personal time away was merely a hiccup and she was overworked and conflicted about her love life. She claimed to have come to Arizona to reconnect—though she’d yet to say she’d come to apologize—and take a break from New York.

  Ginny knew, however, from the way Julia would scurry off to her bedroom for hushed phone conversations behind closed doors, that it couldn’t be the whole story. There had to be more to why her sister had extended her trip.

  “Oh yes,” Julia said. “We tape Daybreak every weekday morning. Early! Ha! You can’t imagine how early.” Her laugh was nervous and slightly forced. Olive looked on with an even expression, as if she wasn’t buying Julia’s flippancy any more than Ginny. For an instant, mother and daughter connected eyes as they exchanged dubious glances.

  “Sounds hectic. So, today is a weekday. Why aren’t you there?” Olive pressed.

  Ginny glanced at Julia, who seemed to be stalling. Her sister smiled uncomfortably and took a belabored bite of her lunch. After several long seconds, she swallowed. “Right. I’m usually on the air. I’m just taking a vacation. It’s rare, but if I get an opportunity, I jump on it.”

  Olive frowned. “So you came here? To Arizona, to be with people you haven’t even spoken to in, like, three years? How’d you come up with that one?”

  Ginny stiffened. “Olive!”

  Olive’s shoulders rose and then fell, as if to say, Why not?

  Ginny’s gaze darted over to Julia, whose expression was turning watery. Oh great. She understood Olive’s hostility toward the once-close aunt who had appeared to lose interest in her teenage niece once she hit the big time. Olive had been dejected. And it wasn’t any secret that the two of them had been forced to abruptly move their lives to another state—Ginny’s home state—because Julia couldn’t be bothered to help with the overwhelming family affairs. Ginny had complained a lot when they’d first arrived in Arizona. She supposed that animosity had seeped over onto her daughter. Plus, Olive regretted the permanent change of address. Why not blame Julia?

  Still. Her daughter was purposely picking a fight.

  “No, it’s okay.” Julia blinked back the dampness. “I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.”

  I’m sure she did.

  Olive crossed her arms over her chest in a sign of defiance. Perhaps Olive was meeting toughness in her mom with a certain brand of her own toughness. Perhaps this was all learned behavior. The thought was upsetting. Was Ginny the reason for her daughter’s coldness?

  Biting her lip, she held herself back from saying more.

  “The truth is . . .” Julia hesitated. “The truth is, I made a mistake at work.”

  “Really?”

  The two women looked on as she squirmed in her chair and repeatedly dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. This was certainly news. Ginny hadn’t tuned in to Julia’s show for a while now, so she couldn’t be sure what her sister was referring to. It had to have been a major mistake if Julia had sought refuge across the country. Especially considering that hefty ring on her finger. Wouldn’t she prefer the comfort of her fiancé and not an estranged sibling?

  “Yes,” Julia murmured.

  Ginny noticed her sister’s fidgety hands. The once immaculately manicured nails had now chipped and cracked as a result of heavy dishwashing. She also noticed, for the first time, that much of her sister’s overdone TV makeup was absent. Gone was the application of thick foundation to conceal the beginnings of thin spiderweb lines around her mouth and eyes. Gone was the shiny lacquer of lip gloss to enhance her pout. Either the desert life or the stress was changing her. Regardless, Julia was apparently starting to let go of her flawless exterior and take on a refreshingly natural air instead.

  “What do you mean, ‘mistake’?” Olive prodded, suddenly straightening with interest.

  “Well,” Julia began, “when you’re on television, there’s a certain level of pressure to remain relevant. Believe it or not, being in my late thirties ages me quite a bit in my position. I’m not considered as ‘current’ as I could be, I suppose. My job relies on loyal viewers and ratings and
approval from tightly wound people in suits. I regrettably let that pressure get to me. It caused me to act irrationally. I made an accusation on air without my boss’s approval, and that mistake landed me in hot water. So I’ve been put on temporary leave. You could say I’ve been given a grown-up’s version of a time-out. And I’m not proud of it.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, ‘wow’ is right.” Julia gave a sad smile.

  Ginny was stunned. She certainly hadn’t expected her guarded sister to open up and be so honest, especially in the face of Olive’s ill-mannered inquiry. “What kind of accusation?” she asked.

  “I accused the mayor of New York City of tax fraud.”

  Ginny gaped. “Wow. That’s pretty big.”

  “Yeah. So now you know.”

  Ginny suddenly felt like a fool for dismissing Julia’s problems as trivial. For not asking questions. She should’ve been paying more attention.

  “Is it really that bad? I mean, you have a contract, don’t you?” Ginny asked. Maybe there was a way to fix this.

  “Yeah,” Olive broke in before Julia could respond. “Don’t newspapers print mistakes all the time and then just write a correction the next day? Couldn’t you do something like that?”

  “A retraction? Yes, we do it all the time. However, my problem is a bit larger. I made a statement about Mayor Rossetti. He’s kind of a big deal. And he’s not happy. At the rate things are going, I’ll just be lucky to walk away without a lawsuit.” Julia noticeably deflated against the back of her chair. Ginny searched her face. She saw the watery expression returning. Her sister was clearly under significant stress.

  All the pieces of Julia’s unexpected appearance now began to slide into place.

  “Jeez, Aunt Julia. That sounds bad. I’m sorry.” Olive’s calcified edge softened considerably. Ginny was silently grateful that her daughter had a heart after all.

  Julia brought her napkin to the corner of her eye. “Thanks, Olive. That means a lot. Guess I’m not much of a role model for you.”