THAT RING

by Dodd, Jillian

  “When the children were young, we turned this into our daycare facility. When they were old enough for school, we made the decision to homeschool. We wanted to keep them here, in a safe and protected environment, for as long as we could. We also wanted them to be able to travel. The private restaurant club that Aiden started when we were first married has expanded from the first one in London to twenty countries around the world. The kids also use this as their hangout after hours.”

  She touches her fingerprint to a door, which then clicks to let us in.

  We go inside, and she points to the room off to our left. “It functions like an old-fashioned one-room schoolhouse. Two classrooms. This is for the younger kids, ages six through nine.” She points to the right. “And this one is for the older kids, ten through thirteen.”

  “How old are the triplets?” I ask.

  “Thirteen. They will go to Eastbrooke Academy—the boarding school where Riley and I first met—next fall. Time goes by so fast.”

  “Danny’s daughter is a freshman. She seems to like me, but I think parenting a teen is going to be difficult.”

  “Parenting at any age isn’t easy, but it’s fun. You just treat your children with respect and teach them to be respectful of others. If you can do that, they seem to turn out pretty good.” She laughs. “At least, so far.”

  We hear a little commotion.

  “Let’s see what’s going on upstairs.”

  “Mommy!” An adorable boy runs up to her.

  She gives him hugs and kisses and says, “This is our youngest, Ashton. He’s nine.”

  There are five children of various ages sitting at a table, working on art projects. Three are painting, one is sketching with charcoal, another is using colored pencils. In the corner, a teen girl is working diligently on a potter’s wheel, and a teen boy is lying in a beanbag, plucking strings on a guitar.

  “You’re here,” the guitar player says. “Does that mean romper room is over, and I can get out of here? Paisley can watch them.”

  “’Fraid not. I’d like to introduce you to Jennifer Edwards. Jennifer, this is our oldest son, Asher.”

  “What’s up?” he says, not bothering to get out of the beanbag.

  I can tell Keatyn is about to scold him for it but the painters yell out, “Aunt Kiki! Look at what we’re making!”

  After we see all the kids’ projects and I’m introduced to everyone but the potter, Keatyn says, “Why don’t you all start cleaning up? Asher, make sure you get everyone home, and then you are free.”

  “It’s amazing that you set up a space just for them. That you’ve been able to keep them close.”

  “Jennifer, if you truly want it all, you can have it. You just have to be flexible. Think out of the box. Figure out how to make it work. Trust me, it’s worth it. I’ve never been happier in my life or more fulfilled. On the flip side, it’s also okay to not want it all.”

  She points at the girl still working on the potter’s wheel. “That’s Knox and Katie’s daughter, Paisley. I can tell she’s in the zone and don’t want to interrupt her. She’s a very talented artist. Katie chose to give up her teaching career to come live here, but in the process, she achieved her lifelong dream of being a published children’s author. She has, like, fourteen books out now. And Riley’s wife, Ariela, had built up a big business, planning celebrity events. After their baby was born, she decided it was just too much. She’s still doing what she loves, but she chooses only a select few events. And she sometimes pitches in on events that take place here at the vineyard.” She leads me down the stairs. “When will Danny’s divorce be final?”

  “They signed their divorce agreement and filed with the court this week. His wife is engaged already. She was having an affair with her plastic surgeon.”

  “I didn’t really know her, but I never cared much for his wife,” Keatyn says. “She was—”

  “A bitch?” I ask.

  “I was going to say entitled. Like the world owed her something. Danny is such an upstanding guy. We’ve worked with him over the years through our Moon Wish charity wine. Even when we weren’t donating to his foundation, he was always willing to do what he could to help. I’ll never forget it even though it was so long ago.

  “There was this girl I met through the Dream Wish foundation. Her dream was to spend a day with my little sister, actress Gracelyn Stevens, and Gracie asked me to join her on the set in St. Louis as an extra surprise for her family. When they showed up, her little brother was wearing one of Danny’s jerseys. I thought it was cute, so I texted Danny a photo and told him the situation. He asked how long they would be there, and then he dropped everything and flew down to meet them. The family had previously lived in Kansas and were all huge fans but moved to Houston for their daughter’s treatments. The following week, Danny sent a plane and flew them up to a game, where they were able to go on the field with the team during warm-ups and then were hosted in a nice, warm skybox with the team owner. And if that wasn’t enough, he sent them to Disney World for Christmas.” She lowers her voice a notch and looks down. “He also attended the girl’s funeral when she passed away a few months later.”

  “That’s incredible,” I sputter out, tears dripping down my face, so touched by Danny’s compassion. “He’s way too good for me, isn’t he?”

  “And I was thinking just the opposite,” Keatyn says. “I was thinking you’d be way too perfect together. If I recall, you did something similar for a fan.”

  “That was a long time ago. I’ve changed.”

  “The Jennifer I know would still do it,” she says, wrapping her arm around my neck. “Don’t let the way Troy treated you take away your self-confidence. You are awesome, and you deserve better.”

  “Danny got full custody of their kids,” I counter.

  “And you’ve always wanted kids. Now, you can have an instant family with no stretch marks.”

  “Danny has this tattoo on his arm.” I point to the inside of my own elbow. “He started up here with the dates of his children’s birthdays, thinking he’d have a lot of kids. But then his wife wanted to stop at two. And it made me sad for him. Like, for that empty space.”

  “And maybe you’re just the one to help him fill it.”

  “Am I being crazy? Things are so complicated.”

  “No, they’re not. They are much less complicated than when you first met him. And you know it. You’re just scared.”

  “Probably. What was that line from your movie? ‘It doesn’t matter where you’ve been; what matters is where you end up.’ Do you believe that?”

  “Not only do I believe it, but I’m also living proof of it. And I think you will be, too.” We get back in the golf cart. “We’d better go check on your car.”

  “I want to go back,” I blurt out.

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah. Could I leave the car here? I need to fly back to LA and find a house.”

  “If you don’t mind a few miles put on it while you’re gone, I’m sure Riley would gladly watch it for you.”

  I nod, finally knowing exactly what I have to do.

  November 11th

  Danny

  “So?” I say to Jennifer when she finally answers the phone on Saturday afternoon.

  I’ve been trying to reach her since yesterday, and she didn’t call or text me back. And I will admit, I’m a little irritated about it.

  Okay, a lot irritated.

  “So, what?” she replies.

  “Why didn’t you answer my calls or texts? Did you get back together with Troy? Have some amazing reunion?”

  “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. I have a lot to tell you, but I’m actually kind of busy right now. Can I call you later?”

  “Sure. Why not?” I say, slamming the phone down and cursing.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?” Damon says, coming into the family room from the shambles that is currently our kitchen.

  Last week, the workers basically gutted the room after I decided that it was silly
not to replace all the cabinets, as they were fifteen years old. It also gave Jadyn the opportunity to slightly tweak the layout by taking down a wall separating it from the family room and adding an additional island. I will admit though, Jadyn gave them a tight schedule, and so far, everything she put on the list of what would be done and who would be here each day has happened.

  Everything was moved out of the living room, dining room, kitchen, and family room. The floor has all been replaced with the same wood we did throughout the rest of the house and is covered with brown paper to protect it during the remodel. The walls have all been painted in what Jadyn refers to as a light French gray, and the trim is a bright white. The new white cabinets were installed this week as well as the deep blue–painted islands and the industrial wood and metal hood that sold me on the design. Today, they brought out the honed Calacatta marble countertops. I love their matte finish and low sheen. Everything in our renovation has been about less shine and more about natural beauty. Tomorrow, they will be installing the marble tile backsplash with ribbons of mother-of-pearl that Jennifer thought was so gorgeous that she gasped over it.

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “Are you mad at Jennifer?” he asks astutely. “Did you break up?”

  “No, but I’ve barely spoken to her. And I know she went to see her ex yesterday.”

  “And you think they got back together?”

  “I don’t know, son. I hope not.”

  “I don’t think they did, Dad.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket, presses a couple of buttons, and hands it to me. “This is supposedly from last night.”

  I look down and see a photo of Troy with his arm wrapped around a redhead, coming out of a club. I skim the article. It mentions that Jennifer is nowhere to be seen.

  I can’t help it. I let out a sigh of relief.

  “How did you happen to see this?”

  “Oh, I have a Google alert set so that whenever something is posted about Troy or Jennifer, I get notified,” he says proudly.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “So, I can be the first to know. I have one set for everyone in our family, too. Still amazes me no one knows about you and Mom’s divorce.”

  “You shouldn’t believe what you read in the tabloids, Damon.”

  “I know, Dad. But I still want to know what they are saying. And when the news does hit about you and Jennifer, I just want to be prepared.” He shoves the majority of a cold Pop-Tart in his mouth. “You really like her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do. I asked her to move in with us.”

  “Really? That’s cool.”

  “She said no.”

  “Bummer. Why? She not like you back?”

  “She doesn’t want to live with me until I’m officially divorced.”

  “She thinks she’s going to set a bad example for me and Dani, huh? Dad, we’re not little kids. We know all about sex and relationships and all that stuff. You don’t have to pretend like you don’t have sex with her. If she were my girlfriend, I’d have sex with her all. The. Time. Dude.”

  “Don’t call me dude,” I admonish. “It’s disrespectful.”

  “All. The. Time. Sir,” he repeats in a sassy tone.

  I swear, he is just like I was at his age. My mother says it’s my payback.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “Me? Dad,” he says, rolling his eyes, “I have two, possibly three chicks on the line. I’m sort of talking to two of them, but I like the third one the most. She acts like she doesn’t like me.”

  “Maybe because she knows you’re talking to two other girls.”

  “Oh shit. You might have a point—I mean, shoot. Golly dang it. Or should I be like Uncle Phillip and say, What the foxtrot?”

  “Damon, sit down.”

  He looks up at me. He’s gotten taller this past year. Almost up to my chin.

  “We’ve had discussions about condom usage. You heard me, right?”

  “Don’t tap it unless you wrap it. That’s what Chase says.”

  I nearly choke. “Have either you or Chase, um, needed to wrap it?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Do you think you will tell me when you are considering it?”

  “Probably not. It’s a personal thing, Dad.”

  “I see.”

  “You’re freaking out a little, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, kind of.”

  “Well, since I don’t have anything to tell yet, let’s talk about you. How old were you when you first had sex?”

  I rub my face, feeling stressed.

  “It’s okay, Dad. It’s a natural thing. You know, when you’re in love and all,” he says, repeating almost word for word what I told him when we last discussed it.

  “I was in high school,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t ask for anything more specific because, technically, it was the summer before high school. Madelyn Rivers. Long-legged brunette cheerleader. Two years older than me.

  “Summer before high school is what Uncle Phillip said. He was older. I’m going to wait until I’m older, I’ve decided. Uncle Phillip says to enjoy just kissing girls while I’m young. That sex complicates things. Plus, I’ve got goals. College. First pick in the draft. I’m also thinking of taking guitar lessons with Chase. Rock stars are our backup plan. Although Mom suggested that I start modeling. What do you think about that?”

  I want to laugh out loud. Only my son would consider rock star as his backup plan. “I think if it interests you, you should pursue it. I always tell you that about life.”

  “Hmm,” he says. “You’re right. I should stop talking to Heather and Brittany and start pursuing Brandy. I should sign up for guitar lessons and tell Mom to find some hot model to show me her ways.”

  This time, I do laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “What do you think of the way the house is turning out?” he asks.

  “I really like it.”

  “Me, too. It’s more comfortable. Like the feel of a perfectly worn baseball glove. Auntie Jay let me pick out the new sectional couch for the family room. She took Chase and me to sit on it. Test it out. Ohmigosh, Dad, you are going. To. Love. It. It’s the most comfortable couch in the world. Chaise at one end. We’re going to watch a lot of football on it. And I picked out big leather ottomans instead of a coffee table, so you can put your feet up and just chill.” He holds up a finger when I start to say something. “And don’t worry; you know how I am about my snacks. We got these really cool trays with handles that we can load up in the kitchen and put on the ottomans. Best of both worlds.”

  “I can’t wait to see it. What color is it?”

  “The one we sat on was white, but Auntie Jay had a bunch of swatches. I think the ones she liked were a gray and a light teal color. She said she’s going to surprise us.” His phone buzzes, and he glances down at it. “Oh, hey, I gotta go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Pick-up flag football game.”

  “All right. Actually, I need to get going, too. I’ll see you when I get back from my game.”

  Damon gives me a hug. “I can tell your mind is on Jennifer, but remember what you always tell me. ‘Once you’re on the field, that’s where your focus is.’ You need to beat Washington if you want home-field advantage in the playoffs.”

  I ruffle his hair. “We’re definitely going to win.”

  But he’s right.

  I need to focus on something other than why Jennifer is too busy to talk to me.

  Jennifer

  “Sorry,” I say to my realtor, Erik, as I hang up the phone from Danny’s call. Although I could hear the irritation in his voice, I didn’t want to talk to him with someone listening. I have too much to say. So much I want to tell him.

  “What did you think of that one?” he asks as we get back in his vehicle.

  “Still too small. Not enough backyard space.”

  “First, you wanted to lease in Malibu, and now, you want to buy in Pacific Palisades. W
hat’s with the sudden change?” he asks me. And it’s a valid question.

  “I decided that I want more of a forever home. Eventually, maybe a family.”

  “Are you going to adopt or something?”

  “I haven’t really gotten that far yet, but yes, something. And I want more privacy. I should be able to swim naked in the pool if I want.”

  “All right. I have two more places up here to show you. And I have a new build in Beverly Hills that might interest you. It’s about double your budget though.”

  “I’m not that worried about budget at this point. I just want to find the right house.”

  Erik smiles as he pulls up to another house. I’m pretty sure I just said the magic words.

  “No,” I say.

  “No what?” he replies.

  “You can tell just by looking at the outside that it’s too modern.”

  “Every house you’ve ever lived in has been modern, Jennifer.”

  “Yes, but I told you, I want cozy. Warm. A happy place.”

  “Okay, we need to get on the same page here. Everything I lined up for you to look at is modern. They have the bedrooms you like, the ocean view, and backyards. Now, you want a completely different style home?”

  “Yes. That’s what I’m saying.” I take his iPad from the console. “Do me a favor. Just pull up all the houses in this area and let me take a look at them. That way, I won’t waste your time.”

  “You’re not wasting my time, Jennifer. My job is to help you find you your dream home. I just have to be clear on what that is, so I show you the right properties.” He hands me back the iPad with listings on it.

  I scroll past eight listings and then stop. “This one.”

  “Do you want to look at the pictures of the inside first?”

  “No, I can tell by the front of the house that it’s going to feel right. And I want to experience it for the first time in person.”

  “Let’s see if it fits your criteria,” he says, taking the iPad back from me and checking the listing. “Seven bedrooms, eight baths. Pool. Views of both the Pacific Ocean and the Santa Monica Conservancy. It’s also a new build, which should mean no one is living there. Let me call the listing agent and see if we can get in.”