The New Normal

by Brogan, Tracy

  “I wouldn’t exactly say we know each other,” Carli corrected. “He walks by my desk every afternoon when he leaves the station, and I swear every single time he calls me either Sheila or Gretchen. He has no idea who I am.”

  “Yeah, he’s not so great with the names. He usually calls me Margo, but at least that’s closer than Gretchen. Anyway, just be your regular charming self and laugh at his awful jokes and it’ll be great.”

  Fifteen minutes later Marlow led a slightly dazed Carli to the recently reconstructed studio, a brightly lit area with a shiny white desk and a backdrop of royal-blue panels interspersed with brushed nickel and chrome. The ultramodern look was softened by window-size photographs of local landmarks. The Monroe covered bridge. The Glenville historical museum. The new Wallace-Chase Arena. Next to the studio, just on the other side of a movable folding wall, was the main studio, where the news and weather were done. Carli could see the weekend anchor chatting it up with meteorologist Allie Winters through a slightly opened door.

  “After we do the taping, Floyd will do some test shots, and we’ll send everything over to Jessica so she can decide if she wants to talk to you or not.”

  “That sounds awesome,” Carli said, and by awesome she meant whatever was the exact opposite of awesome. Awful? Miserable? Nauseating? She was twenty thousand leagues out of her depth right now. She should not be this nervous. It was just an audition tape for a job that she probably didn’t want to get anyway. Yes, the extra money would be nice and would allow her to make all those home repairs her place needed, and it might be just the thing to nudge her from the security of her mostly dull life, but who wanted to get up at five o’clock in the morning every day? And have to banter with Troy Buckman on a regular basis?

  “What exactly is it I’m doing here right now on a Sunday?” Troy asked as he strode into the studio, wearing a plaid sport coat of navy blue and kelly green. His white dress shirt was open at the neck, exposing overly tanned skin. He was generically handsome in a soap opera star way, with perfectly styled hair and teeth a little too white to be natural. Everything about him was just a little bit extra.

  “You’re doing a test tape with one of our potential cohosts for Glenville in the Morning,” Marlow answered patiently. “And it’s going to be wonderful.”

  Carli turned toward him and smiled, extending her hand for a handshake. She may as well at least try to act professional, especially since this was technically the first time she’d been introduced to Troy. He gave her an exaggerated perusal, as if she were an Armani suit he was thinking might look good on him. Mild recognition glazed over his expression. “You look familiar. Have we slept together?”

  A chuff of nervous laughter escaped Carli’s throat. Clearly the entire #MeToo movement had gone entirely over Troy’s expertly coiffed head.

  “No, we have not slept together.”

  “Would you like to?” he asked, grinning broadly.

  “Troy!” Marlow barked. “You are going to get us sued one of these days, and then Jessica will fricassee your carcass and serve you to her cats. Behave yourself.”

  “My apologies,” he said, the picture of amused insincerity. “But you do look familiar. What station have you worked at before? Nine? Eleven? Are you that sassy girl from Channel 4 who does the traffic reports?”

  Should she tell him she was Carli/Sheila/Gretchen from the front lobby?

  “Troy, this is Carli Lancaster, and we’re a little behind schedule,” Marlow interrupted before Carli could respond. “Let’s get your mic packs on so we can get started.”

  Lester, the floor director, came out from the control room and handed a slender cord to Carli, instructing her to run it down inside the back of her dress, then he handed her something that looked like a wide headband.

  “That’s your girly garter,” Marlow explained at Carli’s obvious confusion. “You pull it up high on your thigh, and then the mic goes in there. You won’t need that if you’re wearing a jacket or strictly sitting at the desk, but most times we’d have you moving around. We want the feel of the show to be fluid and energetic. Almost like you’re with a couple of friends at a cocktail party sharing stories about all the fun things going on in Glenville.”

  Marlow kept offering advice, Troy kept making inane remarks, Lester was giving technical instructions, and Carli thought maybe she might like to go lie down for a bit. This was a lot to soak up and remember. The lights were bright and hot, her Spanx were too snug (weren’t they always?), and the two camera towers were flippin’ enormous. How had she never noticed that before? They were like robots moving around the room, tethered by a single thick cable that linked them to Lester’s board in the control room. Between them were the teleprompter and a digital countdown clock to keep the talent on pace. She’d been in the studio before, and in theory, she knew all this stuff, but this was the first time those big-ass cameras would be pointed at her and the first time she’d be expected to articulately read the digital script.

  “Let’s start with them both sitting behind the desk,” Lester suggested. “I want to make sure the chairs are adjusted to the correct height so Troy doesn’t look shorter than Carli.”

  “I’m comfortable with my compact stature,” Troy said, adjusting his lapel.

  “It’s all the same when you’re lying down, right?” Carli said without thinking.

  Troy crooked an eyebrow in her direction, then his smile grew wide. “I like you, kid. I like the way you think. We’re going to get along just fine.”

  Chapter 9

  It had been almost a month since Ben had moved into his modest house on Monroe Circle, and he’d already made a lot of improvements to the place, although you couldn’t really tell by looking at its current state of demolition. He’d finished removing the wall between the kitchen and the family room, torn up every last bit of the old flooring—including the peeling linoleum from all the bathrooms—and had his brothers scheduled to come by tomorrow to help him remove all the old kitchen cabinets so he could replace them with new ones. The rancid chicken-in-the-dumpster smell was gone, and the drywall dust was cleaned up, so even though there was still a lot to do, Ben was feeling moderately accomplished.

  Today he was taking advantage of the cooler weather to do some work outside, and the first order of business was setting up his new gas grill, on which he’d spent far too much money. The thing was a beast, with more bells and whistles and smokers and burners and rotisserie arms than any man needed. But he hadn’t bought this particular grill because he needed all the extras. He’d bought this top-of-the-line, envy-of-the-neighborhood grill because he’d wanted it. He wasn’t the type to splurge, but he felt like he’d earned this, and that wasn’t something he took for granted. In spite of growing up surrounded by the Chase family wealth, he and his siblings had been taught to appreciate the value of a dollar. As a kid, when Ben wanted a Sega Genesis gaming system, his father hired him to do work around the house until he’d earned enough money. That’s when Ben had learned about taxes, too, which his father took from his salary. Nothing was given easily. That had annoyed the hell out of him as a teenager, but now he was grateful.

  Well, mostly grateful. Either way, he intended to enjoy this fine piece of equipment, which would go nicely with the pizza oven/hot tub/outdoor television setup that Ethan was hoping for. Jury was still out on most of that stuff, but the patio certainly needed an overhaul. Currently it was nothing more than a ten-by-ten cement slab with a few fieldstones around the perimeter. So not so much a backyard oasis as it was an eyesore. But for now, he just needed it to support this mammoth grill.

  He’d just attached the final knob when, through an open window, Ben heard his front doorbell ring. Rather than going through the inside of his house, he walked up the sloping hill of his yard and around the corner to find his sister standing on his front step.

  “Hey,” he said, causing her to jump and turn at the same time.

  “What the hell? You startled me,” Kenzie said, laughter
filling her voice.

  He smiled, suddenly realizing he’d missed her. Kenzie could always make him smile and was one of the few people whose advice he trusted. Not just because she was a therapist, but because he knew she’d always give it to him straight. She was always honest. Sometimes brutally so, but without her support over the past few months, he’d be a blob of a man with no idea how to move on with his life after Sophia had gutted him.

  Kenzie took a step toward him, extending her arms, which held at least half a dozen gift bags.

  “Happy housewarming,” she said. “I meant to bring this stuff last week, but work has been crazy.”

  Ben chuckled. “Interesting choice of words for someone who works with actual crazy people.”

  She laughed again. “I don’t work with too many actual crazy people. My people are mostly stressed and depressed and sometimes confused.”

  “I guess that explains why you’ve been able to help me. Come on inside.”

  He led her in the front door and gave her a quick tour of the house, showing her his room, which still had nothing but a bed and a floor lamp and laundry baskets full of the clothes he hadn’t hung in his closet; Ethan’s room, which had a bed and floor lamp and a beat-up old dresser that had been Ben’s when he was a kid; and Addie’s room, which was completely empty.

  “I like this industrial flooring you’ve got going here,” she teased as they returned to the family room, pointing to the exposed subfloor where he’d torn up the carpet. “Very cutting-edge design.”

  “Thanks. I’m not sure the look will catch on, but at least I don’t have to worry about spilling anything.”

  “Convenient,” she said with a nod. “What do the kids think of the house?”

  “Addie hasn’t seen it yet. I’m hoping she’ll come this weekend, though, and Ethan seems to like it just fine. In fact . . .” He paused for effect. “He wants to live with me full-time.”

  Kenzie’s eyebrows rose slowly. “He does? So what do you think about that?”

  It was an issue he’d thought about almost incessantly, but he had yet to bring up the matter of custody with Sophia. He was waiting until she was in a good mood but was starting to realize that might never happen. For a woman who was getting basically everything she was asking for, she sure as hell was grumpy about it.

  “I’d love for either of the kids to live with me full-time, but I’m not sure it’s the best thing for them to do. Ethan’s really mad at Sophia, and if he’s here all the time, I’m afraid they’ll never get past that. Then again, maybe a little space will give him time to cool off and work through some stuff on his own. What do you think?”

  She looked around the room before returning her gaze to him. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I do think it’s important that they keep spending time together, but from what you’ve mentioned before, it sounds like Doug is over there quite a bit. That’s really hard on kids, seeing one parent being romantically involved with someone new, especially if it happens before they’ve had a chance to grieve what they’ve lost. You’re all grieving the loss of your family as you knew it, so now you and your kids will have to create your own unit, and Sophia will need to do the same with them. But if Doug is already in the picture, it changes the whole dynamic.”

  Ben felt his mood shifting, the thrill of the new grill taking second place to the current drama with his wife. “Yeah, that’s the circle I keep going in. I’ve tried to say as much to Sophia, but she thinks it’s just my jealousy talking. And I can’t deny that I don’t like Addie being there with him around. I mean, she’s always known him as Uncle Doug, so I know she’s comfortable with him as a person, but both kids understand what’s going on behind closed doors. Ethan says Sophia hasn’t been very discreet.”

  Kenzie slowly rolled her eyes before saying, “What a bitch.”

  Ironically, Ben found himself smiling. “Is that your professional opinion?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  He chuckled as he grabbed them beers from the fridge, which was still sitting in the middle of the kitchen, and they continued talking about the kids and the divorce and Sophia and the fact that she was a grumpy bitch. The line between family therapist and supportive sister was definitely blurred, but Ben appreciated that Kenzie could commiserate with him about the misery of his failed marriage while still offering good advice and making him laugh at the same time.

  “Want to come outside and see my new grill?” he asked a while later, realizing yet not caring that he sounded like a little kid with a new toy. They went out to the patio, grabbing a second beer on their way.

  “Now, what we have here,” he said, doing his best game-show prize-hostess impression, “is a state-of-the-art Genesis Napoleon Prestige PRO 825 gas grill with infrared rotisserie and side burner. I could cook an entire Thanksgiving dinner on this thing and still have room to throw on a couple of extra hamburgers.”

  Kenzie nodded, her face devoid of either the awe or the respect his kick-ass grill deserved. “Sure, because who doesn’t want to be standing outside in November in Michigan waiting for a turkey to cook? Good plan. Totally worth the money.”

  “I’m not saying I would cook Thanksgiving dinner on it. I’m just saying I could. It’s the principle of it.”

  Kenzie smiled and took a sip of her beer, looking around the rest of his yard. “This is pretty nice back here. It’s got potential.”

  “Ethan thinks I should add a hot tub/pizza oven/big-screen TV combo. That would be pretty sweet, right?”

  “No wonder he wants to live here.”

  “Hello?” Carli heard voices in Ben’s backyard. One masculine, one feminine, and she hoped she wasn’t interrupting some kind of romantic encounter. That would be awkward on a variety of levels. Then again, it was four o’clock in the afternoon, so whatever tryst he might be having would probably be pretty PG-13.

  “Back here,” she heard Ben answer as she made her way down the gentle slope into his backyard. He was on his patio next to a massively large and shiny grill and someone who looked very much like him, with dark hair and sapphire-blue eyes. If not his sister, then certainly a relative.

  “Hi,” Carli said, suddenly feeling a bit breathless, although she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t from walking down the hill, and it wasn’t from lugging the big basket she had in her arms. But she felt . . . anxious? Jittery? Eager? She’d been looking forward to delivering this belated welcome to the neighborhood, here’s your compensatory steak basket, but suddenly she felt awkward. Maybe because Ben wasn’t alone. Or maybe it was because he was the first man she’d felt the stirrings of attraction for since the day she’d met Steve, and those sensations were a mixed blessing. It was good to know her long-dormant libido wasn’t completely squashed, but getting revved up by watching her neighbor do yard work wasn’t exactly satisfying, and anything beyond watching was out of the question.

  “Hi,” he said as she reached the patio’s edge. “What have you got there?”

  She held up the basket. “Just a small token of appreciation for your willingness to break into my bedroom. Twice.”

  The woman next to him tilted her head, her mouth widening with an instant smile. Carli flushed, realizing how that sounded. “I got locked out.”

  Ben chuckled and took the basket, perusing the contents while tilting his head toward the woman. “Wow, this is impressive. Thanks, Carli. This is my sister, by the way. Kenzie, this is Carli. She lives next door, and she has a very big dog.”

  “Hi, Carli. Nice to meet you.” His sister’s smile was warm, her gaze a little speculative, but no wonder after that bedroom comment. Great first impression, Carli.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Carli answered. “Do you live around here?”

  “Not too far. I live over in Elmwood Springs.”

  Elmwood Springs was the most affluent section of the mostly affluent East Glenville Township. Probably where all the other Chase family members lived, instead of over here in regular middle-class subur
ban Glenville. Someday, when she knew Ben better, she’d ask him why he was living over here instead of with his people. Especially since he’d obviously lived in this school district even before his divorce.

  “What is all this stuff?” Ben asked, setting the basket down on a nearby lawn chair and shuffling around the items. “You put a lot in here.”

  “Oh, nothing much,” Carli answered. “Just some craft beers and cheese to go with your steak. That’s in there, too, by the way. It’s wrapped up in plastic inside that white paper bag, so you’ll want to put that in the fridge. I see you’ve replaced the grill.” She still felt a little breathless and disconcerted as she looked past him to the huge, shiny, stainless-steel minikitchen now sitting on his patio. If Gus knocked that thing over, Carli would have to sell her car to replace it. The thing must’ve cost a fortune. It was the biggest, fanciest grill she’d ever seen and looked ridiculously out of place on his tiny patio.

  “I have replaced my grill. Would you like to see it?” He sounded oddly hopeful, so she nodded, following him over to it so he could lift the lid and show her the spotless, cavernous insides. Yep. It was a grill. Other than being brand-new and the biggest she’d ever seen, it honestly looked like most other grills. She didn’t have the heart to say so, though, because he was so clearly proud of it.

  “That’s really nice,” she said. “I’ll do my best to keep Gus away from it.”

  “I doubt he could knock this one over, but I’m going to move it against the side of the house anyway, just in case.”

  “Who is Gus?” his sister asked.

  “My dog,” Carli said with a sigh. “He broke the last one. My obedience trainer is coming over tonight to help me train him on the electric fence. She hates me, but fortunately she loves my dog, and everyone says she’s got a magic touch.”