by Beth Carter
Tears streamed down Britney’s pimply face. “I can’t believe I’m going to have a mom, dad, and a stepmom.” She glanced at Tucker. “Did you choose Miss Truman because of me? Because if you did, wow.”
He chuckled. “I wish I could say I did but I met your future stepmom in Nashville long before I knew I had such a wonderful daughter.”
Chapter 83
Cheri dozed off and awoke to Victoria banging every cabinet door. “Where do you keep the liquor, darling? I need a drink. This coffee isn’t cutting it.” Obviously agitated, Victoria held a half-empty bottle of vodka in her hand. “Is this all the vodka you have? How can we make martinis?”
Cheri silently counted to ten. “Let’s take things one at a time. Maybe it’s all a big misunderstanding, Mom. Here, let me pour you a drink. Let’s get comfortable in the living room.”
Victoria smelled her armpit. “Maybe I should shower first. No, I’d rather have a drink, or three.”
Cheri’s eyebrows shot up. She had never, ever seen her wealthy, socialite mother do something as crass as smell under her arm. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “I thought you showered last night.”
“I was much too tired from all the travel, darling.”
“When was the last time you took a shower?”
Digging through her massive bag hanging on the back of a kitchen barstool, Victoria shrugged and retracted a cigarette. “Got a light?” She shook her head. “Of course, you don’t.” She turned the switch on the stove and a flame appeared. Leaning over the burner, she lit the cigarette and her hair nearly caught on fire. “Dammit.”
“Mom, calm down. Geeze. That’s so unsafe. I have a lighter I use to light candles. Let me find it.” She fished through a tidy junk drawer and held it in the air. “There. Use this. And try to relax.”
“Sure. Relax. I’m perfectly relaxed with my life in shambles.” Victoria took a long drag.
Cheri watched as the red ashes turned black and teetered on the end. She found a small glass Ramekin and placed it on the granite counter near her mom. “Use this for an ashtray and maybe you won’t burn the house down.”
Victoria huffed and waved her cigarette in the air. “About that drink.”
“On it.” Cheri found a shaker and added plenty of vodka. “What type of martini do you want?”
“Dirty. What else?”
“I hope I have olives.” Cheri opened the fridge and found a jar. “You’re in luck.”
“Pour two glasses,” Victoria said.
“You want two now?”
“Later. I want you to join me. We’re going to toast our new mother-daughter living arrangement.”
Cheri avoided looking at her mother because she knew she would be able to read her face. Do I get a say in this living arrangement?
Placing two martini glasses in the freezer to chill, Cheri added the vodka, olive juice, ice, and vermouth to a shaker. She shook it so viciously she swore she heard a dog bark outside. Retrieving the chilled glasses, Cheri poured the martinis, added green olives, and handed her mom a glass.
“You’re a little stingy with your pour, darling.” Victoria scooted the glass back across the countertop. “Fill ’er up.”
Once Cheri and her mom settled onto the couch, Victoria lit another cigarette and alternately took a puff between healthy gulps of her cocktail. “You’ve got to get more vodka tomorrow.”
So that’s how this is going to go? I’m at her beck and call. I’m her errand girl.
Cheri knew this was a horrendous situation and let the comment pass. As innocently as she could, she asked, “Do you remember how to drive, Mom?”
“Why would I drive? I’ve always had chauffeurs. You know that. So have you, darling. Where is that handsome Gage, by the way?” Victoria asked. “Does he keep the limo nearby?”
“I don’t need a driver here. Gage works and lives in Manhattan. Besides, I’m enjoying driving Nana’s red Mercedes. Cole said he’d teach me how to drive his stick-shift pickup someday.”
“Cole?”
“I’ve told you about the cowboy.”
Victoria attempted to furrow her Botoxed brows. She waved her hand dismissively. “What in the world would a pedigreed city girl have in common with a, well, a cowboy?” She studied Cheri. “Is he rich?”
Cheri laughed. “Hardly, but his last name is Cash.”
“No kidding, and he isn’t rich?”
“Not in the least.” Cheri scooted closer to her mom. “Let’s talk about you.” Wrinkling her nose, she said, “Did you bring any deodorant?”
“I can barely dress myself right now. Give me a break.”
Shaking her head in utter disbelief, Cheri said, “It’s just that I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Excuse me if I don’t know how to react over a cheating husband and his hussy girlfriend.” Victoria took another sip. “I’m going to need more before I tell you how this little saga went down.” She waved her almost-empty glass in the air.
Cheri already knew she was going to be the cook, bartender, and gopher in this relationship. She decided to let it pass—for now. Reaching for her mother’s glass, she said, “Be right back.”
“Take your time, I’ll smoke another cigarette.”
Wrinkling her nose, Cheri opened the patio doors to let in fresh air. She didn’t care if the chill from the autumn air cut her to the bone. Giving her mother the remainder of the martini, she poured herself a glass of white wine. I have a feeling we’re both going to need it.
After returning to the living room, she noticed the ashes were nearly to the top of the Ramekin. “You might need a bigger bowl.” Victoria handed it to her. “Just dump it out, darling. It’ll work fine.”
Cheri felt her pulse tick upward as she placed a wet paper towel inside the bowl to ensure she wouldn’t set her house on fire. She dumped the contents, rinsed it out, and handed the now-clean dish to her mother. “Anything else before I sit down?”
“That’s it—for now anyway.” Victoria smiled. “Maybe you can unpack for me later. I’m exhausted.”
Cheri gritted her teeth and said, “Mom.”
Victoria threw up her hands. “Silly me. Never mind, darling. You’re off the hook. I don’t have luggage.”
She knew her mother was demanding but had forgotten exactly how much. “About Dad. What exactly happened?”
“Oh, him.” Victoria took another drag, gulped some of her martini, and sat cross-legged on the couch.
Victoria jutted out her chin. “It all goes back to that damn earring you found in our European penthouse last year.
Victoria refolded her legs and took another sip. “As I said earlier, I spotted the other half of that infamous, cheap, blue Topaz earring near Gigi’s cash register and confronted her.”
Cheri’s eyes widened. “What did she say?”
“This might call for another drink,” Victoria said.
“Just tell me, Mom.”
“The cheating bitch was totally overcome. She got all misty eyed, said someone”—she made air quotes—“very special to her gave it to her and she had lost the other half and didn’t have any idea where it was. She kept the damn thing by the register as her freaking good luck charm.” Victoria twisted her face. “I wanted to vomit.”
“Are you positive it was a perfect match?”
Victoria rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid. I’ve had the ridiculous thing in my purse since you found it. I had a niggling feeling about Gigi since I rarely saw many customers in her boutique besides me, loyal fucking me, who took her under my”—her voice caught—“my big ass credit card line wing. The little bitch used me and fucked my husband behind my back.”
“I still can’t believe this.” Cheri’s eyes filled with tears. “You and dad were always the perfect
couple in every way. I never dreamed—”
“Well, believe it.” Victoria lit another cigarette. “I always wondered how a new fashion designer could afford the costly rent in Paris.” She punched a pillow on the couch. “And to think I helped her set up trunk shows. I was actually flattered when she asked for my opinion.” Her jawline tightened. “I invited all of my New York friends to visit Gigi’s Couture when they vacationed in Europe.” Her eyes narrowed. “The bitch.”
“What happened after you confronted her?” Cheri asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Victoria finally smiled. “I confronted both of them. I set up a freaking sting in her shop.”
“Oh, my God. How?” Cheri asked.
Chapter 84
Cheri sat riveted on the edge of her seat. “Don’t keep me in suspense, Mom. What happened?”
Victoria waved her martini as she talked. “We had tickets to the opera and I texted Thomas telling him I was running late. He hates being late, as you know. I told him he had to pick me up at Gigi’s shop.” She leaned back, obviously relishing her secret plan. “When Thomas got to the boutique, he honked. Honked. The chicken shit bastard. I knew he wouldn’t dare step inside knowing Gigi was there. I have always been able to read him. But I waited. And waited. And waited while he honked.” Victoria sat tall.
“It was a glorious move, don’t you agree? Anyway, Gigi got nervous and told me my ride was outside.” Victoria chuckled as she waved her cigarette in the air. “I remember saying ‘my ride?’ Is that what they’re calling husbands these days?”
Cheri put her hand over her mouth and stared at her mother. “What was Gigi doing while he was outside?”
“She fussed around the shop, hanging and rehanging clothes, as nervous as can be. I finally asked her to pour me a Bordeaux.”
Cheri’s eyes bulged. “While Dad was outside the boutique?”
“That’s right.” A satisfied smile crossed Victoria’s face.
“Then what?”
“As I slowly, very slowly, drank my wine, Gigi tried to tell me she was closing the shop and asked me to leave. Can you believe the nerve? I informed her she had an important, loyal customer inside and that it would be rude to close. Terrible customer service, in fact.” Victoria roared with laughter. “The young woman didn’t have a chance with someone twice her age. I even asked her for a refill.”
“You didn’t!” Cheri’s mouth fell open.
“Oh, but I did. Meanwhile, Thomas honked half a dozen more times. The bell on her stupid clock chimed and I knew we were already late for the opera. We, of course, had box seats and Thomas had invited two colleagues to join us. He must have been sweating bullets. It was truly satisfying.”
“I can’t believe he kept honking.”
“I’m sure he didn’t want to be in the same room with his wife and his slut. I noticed Gigi kept glancing at her phone. They were likely texting back and forth. After what seemed like an hour, the door finally swung open, and I thought your red-faced Dad would have a heart attack. He hissed, ‘We’re late’.”
Cheri’s eyebrows shot up. “And?”
“I took another sip of wine, watched the guarded, sneaky interaction between the two of them for as long as I could draw it out. You really should have been there. It was quite a show.”
“I’d say. Maybe you should write novels, Mom. I’m captivated by your story, as sad as this is. Finish, but hold that thought. Now, I need another drink.” Victoria held her empty glass in mid-air. Once Cheri returned from the kitchen with two glasses of wine since her mom had polished off the martinis, in a hushed tone, she said, “Then what happened?”
“Gigi pretended she and Thomas were nothing more than business associates. Can you believe the nerve? She actually said, ‘Bonjour, Monsieur Thomas’.” Victoria snorted. “I wanted to vomit and told her to cut the crap.”
Cheri shook her head. “I kind of want to vomit too. And Dad? What did he say?”
“Thomas glanced in her direction with some unspoken truth and avoided eye contact with me. He exaggeratedly tapped his watch, again mentioned we were going to miss the opera and disappoint our friends. I stood ever so slowly, handed my wineglass to Gigi, whose pupils were huge by now, and plucked the other half of the earring out of my purse. I held it in the air like a prized piece of Fool’s Gold.” Victoria laughed for far too long. “That’s exactly what it was—Fool’s Gold. They thought I was a drunken, dried-up chump who would never catch on to their antics.” She lit another cigarette. “But I was not going to be duped by your father nor his young, French hussy.”
“What happened when they saw the earring?”
“Gigi gasped, reached for it, and then thought better of it. Thomas pretended he didn’t know what a damn earring was, stuttered, and stumbled around. Before Gigi could hide the matching earring, I raced across the room, grabbed it, and held the two of them in the air. ‘Aren’t these adorable,’ I remember saying, ‘just like the two of you cheaters.’ Gigi turned ashen and stared daggers at your father. He tried to dismiss it, said we needed to leave, and that I had had too much to drink. Bastard. Gigi released a flurry of what had to be French curse words and stormed out the back door.”
Several shocking seconds lingered in the air as Victoria shifted on the couch and put one leg underneath her. “I’ve never been more proud of myself. I kept my cool and caught them red-handed. I still remember my parting words to Thomas before I called a cab and checked into one of the most expensive hotels in Paris, George V.”
“What were your parting words, Mom?”
A wry smile crossed her face. “I said, ‘You’ve done it now, Thomas. We’re going to miss the fucking opera’.”
In spite of the sad situation, Cheri burst out laughing. “That’s good. Really good.” She reached for her mother’s hand. “I’m sorry, Mom. Never in a million years did I think Dad would do something like this to you.”
“Me neither.” One stray tear escaped and trickled down Victoria’s cheek but she held her chin high. “Fuck him.”
“I’ve never heard you curse before, not like this.”
Victoria took another long drag. “Don’t you think a cheating husband calls for a few swear words, darling? Once I knew the truth beyond a shadow of a doubt, I wasn’t about to kowtow to your dad. Besides, life is too short to waste on cheaters.” She brightened. “We’re going to have happy hour every night. Just you and me. Mother and daughter time that we’ve never truly had. You can cook for me or we can eat out and shop. It’ll be fun living together.” She hesitated. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Mom, I—” Cheri set her wine down and rubbed her face with her hands. She wanted to tell her mom she was falling for Cole, had girlfriends now—real girlfriends that she had never experienced in Manhattan—that they met often at Coconuts, plus she had a catering business to run. But this wasn’t the time. Her mother was a devastated shell of herself. Her mother needed her. She enveloped Victoria in a hug and did her best to ignore the pungent smell. “Of course you can stay here. How about if I pour you a lavender bubble bath. Would you like that, Mom?”
“Yes, darling. Maybe after you fetch me something to eat. Do you have any cheese and crackers?”
Chapter 85
Cheri reached for her phone to text her friends about her quandary and noticed Hope had already requested a meeting at Coconuts. Good. She responded she was on her way, ordered a Chinese food delivery to arrive in two hours for her mother—hoping that would give her ample time to bathe —and drove to Coconuts. Wait until they hear this.
A red-faced Hope was already seated. Cheri draped a sweater on the back of her bar stool. “Are you feeling okay? Your face is flushed.”
Hope chuckled. “I started a wellness program at school. Today, we jogged. Well, I walked fast, but still, it was way more exercise than I’m used t
o.” She fanned herself. “I thought this wellness routine was a great idea, but I’m worn out.” She tugged on her baggy pants. “I’ve lost a few pounds, though.”
“You look great,” Cheri said, as she ordered a Cosmo. Alex and Suzy stepped inside. After Gus took everyone’s drink order, Alex said, “Long time no see. What’s new, everyone?”
Hope and Cheri burst out laughing. Alex and Suzy stared at each another.
“What’s so funny?” Alex reached for her chilled chardonnay as Gus handed Suzy a merlot.
“Beats me.” Suzy shrugged. “I’m pretty boring. Just trying to juggle newborn twins. Izzy is still in Hollywood, Ken is worried sick about her, and Jon, Fernando, Vanessa, and Violet announced they’re staying in Europe for another nine months.” Face furrowed, she said, “I miss them. I’m so glad I have Maggie and Matthew to keep me occupied.”
“That should do the trick.” Alex elbowed Suzy playfully. “And you two? What’s going on? You both obviously have news since your texts came in at the same time.”
Hope and Cheri stared at one another. Both said, “You go first,” simultaneously.
Cheri leaned forward. “I’ll cut to the chase. My mom arrived on my doorstep from Europe. She has left Dad.” All three women gasped. “Actually, he locked the doors, so she was forced out after she discovered his affair with the French designer.”
“I knew it.” Alex leaned closer to Cheri. “Remember, I saw the distinguished older guy in the lobby of your penthouse last year in Manhattan? He had a woman about your age on his arm who spoke French.” Alex shook her head. “Damn men.”
Suzy’s brows knitted. “What is she going to do?”
Cheri threw up her hands. “Live with me.”