The One I'm With

by Jamie Bennett

  “Aren’t you? Your mom wouldn’t let us eat the dinner. The woman next to me hadn’t even picked up her fork when your mom called it quits on eating, and damn, the lobster looked good.” Brooks put his arm around me and I immediately stepped closer, snuggling myself into his body. “There’s a place off the highway heading north where I used to stop on my way back from water polo games. They used to serve burritos as big as my leg.”

  His naked leg? Oops, there I went again. Refocus! “Did you eat the whole thing?” I remembered his appetite, but he seemed to have slowed down. Some.

  “I used to eat two, but maybe we could split something. Are you still into carnitas?”

  I was always into carnitas. And that thought did, fortunately, help me drag my mind out of the naked Brooks gutter where it had been wallowing. We left my mom’s house quietly, and I took one last look back before our escape. My mom was standing with Kristian, talking hard at him rather than to him, and neither of them looked happy. Nusha was surrounded by admirers, and Ava was double-fisting wine. It was definitely a good time to make a run for it.

  Brooks and I ended up sitting in a restaurant so close to the highway it was practically in a lane, sharing a dinner that miraculously defied the size constraints of a tortilla. I ate until I was about to pop. The lobster at my mom’s house had looked delicious, but I was much happier sitting at this tiny, somewhat sticky table with a shared burrito. With Brooks, of course.

  He took a long drink of his beer and pointed to my plate with the bottom of the bottle. “Was it as good as I said?”

  “It seems so spontaneous…stunning,” I told him, and he laughed.

  “I wasn’t going to last there much longer,” he said. “The mix of the stupid conversation, pretentious people, trashy art, and lack of food was going to do me in. I’ve never been lucky enough to attend one of your mom’s art salons before, but I didn’t notice the high level of critical conversation I had expected. Unless I’m wrong that it was supposed to be high-minded and arty, and the real purpose of a ‘salon’ is to gossip and make fun of mutual friends.”

  “That’s what they usually devolve into, especially with Kristian there.” Kristian. I made a face. “Hey, did you notice any tension between my mom and her little husband?”

  He poked at the food left on his plate. “Was there tension?”

  “You didn’t catch that? How mad she was about his speeding tickets?”

  “Well, that’s a ridiculous thing to do. It’s was a lot of money to waste.”

  I shook my head. “She never thought twice about spending for him before. That dumb little car that he’s racing through Marin County cost over a million dollars. What would another thousand be after that?” It was mind-blowing for me to consider spending that much, when I thought about how hard I worked and what came by direct deposit into my bank account at the end of each month. “But tonight, my mom seemed really angry, right?” I paused. “What did you think about Nusha?”

  “I think she’s a scammer,” he said promptly. “She’s tricking all those people into buying her garbage. I mean that literally, I think she’s selling piles of her garbage.”

  “Seriously, that’s art,” I told him, but he still looked doubtful. “I meant, what did you think about Kristian and Nusha? Did you see anything there?”

  “I wondered how she could sit that close to him and not be blinded by his blazer.” Brooks winced.

  I sighed. Maybe I had imagined it, or maybe the emotional intelligence quotient of the guy currently across the table from me was lower than I had thought.

  “No, they did seem pretty cozy,” he admitted. “But I was more focused on your mom’s assistant.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, first she drank at least three glasses of wine before the main course arrived. After that, she started grabbing my knee.”

  “What?” I had shouted it. Other diners turned around.

  “I put her hand back on the table and said no. But it was odd.”

  That bitch. Steam came out of my ears and my hand next to my plate clenched. I was going to drive back to my mom’s house and kill her with my bare hands, the ones which hadn’t once touched Brooks’ knee. Wait a minute. “Just your knee? Or more?”

  He laughed and pointed to my fist. “Are you going to defined my honor?” He picked up my hand and kissed my knuckles, then held it to his face.

  My anger started to dissipate as he opened my fingers and rubbed his cheek against my palm. “Maybe I will beat her up. I’m bigger than she is,” I said, but now I was mostly kidding.

  He laughed again. “I’m glad we left,” Brooks told me. “A beer and hanging out with you, that’s a good night.”

  I forgot, temporarily, about Ava and how I was going to wallop her, because I was looking up at Brooks’ face as he smiled at me. The anger totally dissolved into a feeling that everything was right in the world when he was looking back at me like that.

  Chapter 12

  I was still feeling that way the next week when I went back to school. I was on cloud nine. Tickled pink. On top of the world. A happy camper, for sure.

  Brooks walked me to school on his way to swim every day, pushing his bike, with Maisie riding along in a special dog basket he had attached to the handlebars for her. I loved every second of it. And when I got to my classroom, I managed to keep my positive thoughts intact, despite Coco dropping Felix off each morning to “check on me and my behavior,” as she told me repeatedly (in front of Felix). Also despite the fact that Felix flipped out every morning when she left, already looking at her phone and ignoring him. And despite the fact that Shirley observed the class, meaning me, for several hours on both Monday and Tuesday. Didn’t she have another job or something? Like running the lower school?

  On Wednesday morning, after Felix cried in the corner for half an hour to start off our day—cried and screamed and kicked, but fortunately only the floor and walls and not my shins—Mrs. Rosse beckoned to me during quiet reading. “This can’t go on,” she hissed. And sniffed.

  I stood straight, because I wasn’t going to be cowed by this old bat. “I’m trying my best,” I informed her. “Shirley let me know I shouldn’t expect any additional, uh, support from the administration regarding Felix’s behavior.”

  “I’m aware of what’s going on,” she told me. She probably knew more than I did, in fact. Mrs. Rosse leaned closer so that the scent of mothballs was almost overpowering. “And I’m appalled. I understand that the school needs funding beyond tuitions to survive, but to subject us to this…and every other teacher he’ll have down the line as well. I think it’s disgusting.”

  “What?” I kind of stammered. “You mean, you’re on my side?”

  She leaned back from me a little. “I’m on the side of the school,” she whispered. “This coddling of problem students, this kowtowing for money, it doesn’t reflect well on Starhurst, and in the long-term, they’ll be sorry that they took this course.” She gave me the evil eye. “I still feel strongly that with a more prepared, experienced teacher, this situation would be much improved.” Sniff. “But I do see that you’re trying,” she finished grudgingly.

  “Well, thanks. I guess.”

  “Ms. March,” Matilda said loudly and firmly in the stillness, “I think that there’s a scorpion on the floor.” I looked. It wasn’t a scorpion, but it was huge. All the kindergarteners stood on their chairs and some screaming ensued.

  One voice rose above the racket: “Oops, he got out. I’ll get him back!” Jonah yelled, and there was a little bit of chaos after that. Maybe more than a little. And later, Jonah and I had a talk about catching things, and how it was better to everything in nature roam free. And how it should definitely roam free outside of the classroom.

  There was an unfamiliar car in our driveway when I got home after school on the day of the pseudo-scorpion and I inwardly groaned. Despite my continued happiness and good mood, I was feeling pretty tired, partially due to the bug-based hysteria, partially after
dealing with Felix and the stress of the whole situation. I was looking forward to a hike, maybe, and a nice dinner, then curling up on the couch, and doing all of it with Brooks. Every day, I started to get excited quivers when I turned down our street, because I knew he would be there working. No matter what, he took a little break to say hello and ask about my day. And sometimes he took a longer break to go for a hike or a run before returning to the office, or as he was calling it, the closet dungeon.

  But maybe the car in the driveway meant that he had a meeting, so I couldn’t go and knock on the frame of the office door, trying not to startle him as he concentrated so, so hard. I liked to stand for a moment before I knocked, too, so I could watch how he flipped his favorite pen, twirling it around his fingers. He hummed sometimes, often the fight song from his college, which I was sure he had heard played a lot at his water polo games. I just liked to look at him, but not in a stalker kind of way. Not really.

  I opened the front door quietly, brushing another spiderweb off the sleeve of my coat. If he had a business meeting, they were going to have to talk in the living room. Another person wouldn’t be able to squeeze into the office, not with the width of Brooks’ shoulders. And in fact, there were three people in the living room with Brooks: a woman wearing a vaguely nurse-like outfit, a man in a suit and tie (like the Secret Service), and a very old, very small woman who was presently making a face like she had sucked a lemon. I recognized her for sure. That was Verity, Brooks’ grandmother, the woman who loved to yank her family’s chains and to make them dance attendance on her. The woman who told Brooks that she thought his business, the one he was slaving away at every day, would be a bust.

  I felt my face move into its own lemony expression when I saw her. What was she doing here? Then I remembered that she had bought this house for Scarlett, and I wondered if she felt about it like my mom had about my former home, the guest house. In other words, if Verity thought that it was hers to visit whenever she wanted and enter and leave as she chose. I got more lemony.

  Brooks stood when I came in. “Hey, Lanie. You remember my grandmother.” He introduced her driver and her companion to me as well and I said it was nice to meet them.

  “Mrs. Wolfe, it’s nice to see you again,” I lied, making myself smile and lose the sourpuss face.

  “I don’t think I know you,” she said. “Brooks, who is this?” she asked her grandson.

  “Lanie March,” he repeated to her. “I know you’ve met before, but it has been a while. Lanie is Gareth and Juliette March’s daughter.”

  “Your father’s friend, Gareth? And that actress he married?” Verity squinted at me. “Their daughter had those terrible teeth and frizzy hair. A swizzle stick of a girl.”

  “Yes, that’s me. Gareth and the actress’ daughter. I’m the swizzle stick,” I said. I smiled again, but more like a grimace.

  “Grandmother, that’s very, very rude.” Brooks was still standing, and he looked like a giant over his tiny grandma. He frowned down at her. “Please apologize to Lanie.”

  “Apologize? I’ve just complimented her.” She perused me, head to toe, and I squirmed. “It’s hard to believe that you’re the same person. Are you sure?” she asked Brooks.

  “Grandmother.”

  She laughed. Cackled. “Well, you’ve improved,” she informed me, “but the only place to go was up.” Brooks made a noise. “When you’re old, you say what you want,” she told him. “I’m honest.”

  She meant, when you’re extremely rich and you control the family pocketbook, you can be mean and mostly everyone just smiles and asks for another. Not Brooks, though. “Stop talking to Lanie like that,” he said, sounding like he meant it. “If you want to give her a compliment, don’t insult her at the same time. And if you feel you can’t do that, then I’ll have to show you out.”

  “I tell the truth. You could learn from that,” she told him.

  And suddenly, all at once, I got sick and tired of taking another, too.

  “I’m the same girl as I was then,” I announced. “My hair looks better and I got, um, a figure.” Kind of. “So maybe I look different, but I haven’t really changed. And I remember you very well. My most vivid memory was when my mom made me sit next to you on the couch at Pamela’s Christmas party and you were covered in cat hair. It made me sneeze so hard that I ran outside and threw up under a tree.” There was some honesty right back at her.

  Brooks started laughing. “I remember that very well. The air was so thick with cat hair that my mom ran around vacuuming and opening windows so that Lanie could come back in.”

  His grandmother did not look pleased that we were all now reminiscing so openly and truthfully. “Toni, I’m leaving,” she told her companion, who helped her off the couch as Brooks lent his arm, too. They moved her slowly to the door with the driver trailing behind, carrying her large, patent leather purse. It looked a little out of place with the rest of his Secret Service attire. I said goodbye and the companion and driver waved, but Verity only gave me back a frosty little nod.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Brooks when he came back in. “I shouldn’t have been rude to your grandmother.”

  “She was rude to you first.”

  “Well, she was mostly stating the truth,” I acknowledged. “I was, previously, very swizzle stick-y.” And maybe still was, but not quite as much.

  “You were also stating the truth. She made you vomit.” He grinned. “At the time I think she had fourteen calico cats. She’s currently down to six.” He messed with my hair, and he was the only person currently allowed to do that. “You should start telling people what you think, Peanut. I think there’s a lot going on in your head that people should hear. It would be good for them. And you.”

  “Ok, well, what’s going on in my head now is that I’m wondering why your grandmother dropped by.”

  Brooks was opening windows, letting the fresh wind flow into the house and clearing out the cat air his grandmother had brought in. I didn’t have the same overblown allergic reaction anymore, but I was already sniffling a little. “I knew she was coming. She doesn’t do anything without a plan and advance warning. She said she wanted to visit and talk about how I was doing with my new business.” He looked up at me. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

  Absolutely I did. He made the dog go too, against her will. “Maisie made friends with the lifeguard at the pool. She sits on his lap while I swim,” he told me, dragging her slightly as we walked on the sidewalk. “I should say, she sleeps on his lap.”

  “On the lifeguard? Shouldn’t he be lifeguarding?”

  Brooks shrugged. “The two of them sit right under the sign that says ‘no dogs allowed except service animals.’ I’m not sure how seriously he takes his job.” He reached for my hand, which seemed pretty natural now. He held it pretty tightly, though.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked immediately.

  “Eventually, everything will be fine. Just right now, I had a little setback that my grandmother had heard about, and that was why she came over. I want to tell you about it before you hear from somewhere else. Someone else.”

  “What does that mean?” I demanded.

  “Your mom and I decided to part ways. She’s not going to invest in my business any longer.”

  I stopped on the sidewalk. “What? What?”

  “Juliette and I had a long discussion yesterday. I can look for funding elsewhere,” he said calmly.

  “How could she do this? Why? Are you angry?” I asked, my voice rising. Because he didn’t seem to be, but that made only one of us. “I can’t believe her! I can’t fucking believe her!” I kind of yelled. Really yelled.

  Brooks looked a little shocked. “Peanut, it’s ok.”

  “No, it isn’t! Don’t you have a contract or something? Can you sue her?”

  Despite what he was telling me, now he looked like he might laugh. “We’re talking about your mom, remember? No, I’m not going to sue her. This was a mutual decision. It’s for the best,
I mean it.”

  Mutual, my ass. My mom was pulling a power move, punishing him for some reason. “Why did this happen? Is it personal? Because of her being mad after what happened at her house, when you defended me?”

  He shook his head. “No one’s acting out of anger. We had a lot of differences of opinion. In the end, it’s better for us to sever ties.” He sighed, and rubbed his eyes.

  That told me nothing about what had really made my mom renege, but I got the sense that it was all he was going to say. I tried a different tack. “Are you going to have to go back to New York?”

  “I’d like to make it work here.” He shrugged. “We’ll have to see. It might be easier to build a business in New York where I have more connections, as slight as they may be.”

  But he had connections here, too. He had me, and I could help him. “I have an idea.” I swallowed. “I have some money. You can have that. It won’t be enough, but you could have it.”

  Now Brooks stopped, and put his hands on my shoulders. “Lanie, no. You don’t have to offer me what your dad left for you.”

  “I would be happy—”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I would not take your money.”

  “Then,” I paused and swallowed again. “Then I have another idea. It’s not completely crazy. I had thought about it before and it will work.” Oh no, fear sweat. Just not the puke, please.

  “I can already tell that I’m not going to like this.” Brooks eyed me. “Spit it out.”

  “We could get married. Then you would get the money from your trust,” I said, the words tumbling out so fast I slurred them. “It’s your money that your dad left to you and if we got married you wouldn’t have to wait until you turned thirty and you need it now. I can help you get it.”

  His mouth dropped open and for a moment he didn’t speak. “Are you serious? No, I can tell by your face that you are.”