“Let’s get a drink,” he said, probably spotting my attitude change.
We padded back to the kitchen and left Tiffany to nap in her box.
“So she’ll stay in there?” I asked.
“Yep. She’s an old girl. Guess she doesn’t have time for following humans around.” He pulled out two bottles of water from the fridge and handed me one. “So how’s the clubhouse coming?”
“What?” I realized a second later that he was referring to our conversation last week. It was his way of asking if I’d laid my cards on the table. If I’d actually begun to start anew.
He tilted his head and shot me the disgruntled parent look. I pretended not to see and took a seat at the table.
“It’s a lot easier on paper, you know?” I said continuing with the building analogy. “You can have the greatest plans in the world, but it’s the execution that’s the hardest part.”
“Very funny, Emma Jean.” He leaned against the sink, looking expectant.
“And speaking of execution, I’m not really looking forward to the viewing of my demise.”
“I don’t understand what happened. You seemed so ready the other day.”
“I know,” I said, looking away. The tree out his back window bent slightly in the breeze. I kept my eyes trained on it, thankful it couldn’t stare back at me. “That was before Jayne told me she got engaged to Hank.”
“You’re kidding? That big guy of hers? The one that looks like that hairy thing from Star Wars?”
“Chewbacca,” I said turning my attention back to him.
“Thought you said Hank?”
His mastery of pop culture was at about a two out of ten. Combine that with his memory and you have comic misconception. He could argue with you for an hour that he saw a movie simply based on the preview he saw on TV.
“Yeah, Pop. His name is Hank, but you were talking about the character in Star Wars. That was Chewbacca.”
“Oh, right. Well what does that have to do with your not talking things over with her?”
Geez, he had a point there. At the time I seemed to remember having a reason.
“The timing just wasn’t right. Honestly, I was so thrown by the engagement I couldn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t even speak.”
A couple of tiny yelps came from the bedroom and we both turned our heads that way. “Well that’s nothing new for you,” he said. “So you don’t think she should marry him?”
“No, but then again, my expertise on the subject is a tad skewed.”
“To say the least.”
“That’s very helpful, Pop. Thanks.”
“I’m sorry, Missy. But what do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged like I was a teenager again, trying to get advice on boys and makeup. The only thing Pop would ever say was, “If you need clothes and makeup to get a boy to notice you, then he’s not the boy for you.” Then as he was walking away he’d add something like, “and if I ever catch you done up like that tramp Heather down the street, you’ll be grounded until the next millennium.”
He came around and placed his rough palm against my back. “You know what? You’re going to figure this whole thing out.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if there’s one thing I know for sure about you, Emma Barton, it’s that you’re a problem solver.”
My spirits perked up a bit, since that’s what he’d always told me in school. And a tingle of hope stirred inside me, hearing the same thing I’d been thinking myself at the ballroom. The problem was that for once in my life, I wasn’t confident about a plan. I wasn’t sure which way to turn.
“But this is a little different.”
“Maybe, but I have a feeling you’ll figure it all out. Have I ever been wrong before?”
“Well ….” I let the full-blown smile take over.
“Okay,” he said and grinned right back. “But I’ve never been wrong about you.”
He was right.
Chapter 22
It was thirty minutes before we had to leave for the party, and Howard still wasn’t home. I’d spent the whole day at the ballroom with the rest of our crew getting everything set up. Aside from a few small hiccups, everything seemed to be falling right into place. When I got home, I expected to find Howard coming out of the shower yelling at me to get my ass in gear. Instead, I was greeted with an empty house and a text that said he might have to meet me there.
I slipped into a wine-colored, party-length dress with cross straps in the back. I had my hair up in a loose roll, off to one side. Normally I liked my hair down, but I wanted to make sure my new black onyx earrings showed. Pop had given me them to me the day before. They were gorgeous, yet not overstated. He knew me so well.
He also knew something had happened when I met Guy at the ballroom that afternoon, but I couldn’t even admit that to myself. So, after much nagging on his part, I politely told him to butt out and then turned the focus back to him and Mrs. Elwood. It sounded like things were getting serious, given the fact that she trusted him with her precious Tiffany. But it wasn’t just that. Pop wasn’t much of a smiler. In fact, I was surprised to see that his teeth were still a bright shade of white as he talked about seeing her when she returned from her trip. It was a relief to get my mind off of Guy. The problem was that the more I tried not to think about him, which worked for everything else in my life, the more I thought of him.
Howard flew through the door right as I was slamming back a pre-party cocktail of Crown and Coke, hold the Coke.
“A bit nervous, are we?” he said. He headed straight for the cupboard, grabbed a glass, and splashed his own drink over a pile of ice cubes.
“Oh, are you talking to me?” I asked in feigned confusion.
“What?”
“I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”
“Come on, now. No time for pouting.” He held up his drink as he speed-walked right by me and down the hall. “I’ll just change. Five minutes, I promise.”
In the car on the way over, Howard brought up Emilia. Five minutes earlier, she’d texted me that all three of them had arrived and made it to her apartment. She wanted to know if we were still on for brunch tomorrow. I quickly replied, ready with a “Oh, it’s just Nannette with some last minute questions” lie in case he asked.
“I’m a little worried about her, that’s all,” he said.
“Yeah, but she never returns your calls anyway. I’m sure she’s just busy unpacking and all.”
“I guess.”
I could tell he had something else on his mind. “Maybe you’re not only worried about Emilia.” I probably shouldn’t have risked starting a full-blown discussion when we were minutes from the ballroom, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to feel out the situation, see how open he was to working things out.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe you want to see if she talked to your parents.”
“No.” His head snapped over to me, and he shot me a raised eyebrow. “I specifically told her not to talk to my parents.”
“Right,” I said, nodding and dragging the word out. “But did you order the code red?”
“Whatever. Did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?”
“No, and it’s about time.” I adjusted my seatbelt for the tenth time so it wouldn’t wrinkle my dress.
“And?”
“And what?” I played along.
“How many guys do you know who can pull all this together so quickly?” He made a grand gesture with his hand from his hair down his body. He wore a black suit, perfectly tailored to that it-almost-looks-too-small style perfected by Ryan Seacrest, and a black dress shirt with faint white pinstripes. And of course, he had not a hair out of place, thanks to half a bottle of hairspray, which was a touch more than his usual.
“Forgive me. You look incredible enough to be arm candy, so make sure you don’t leave my side.”
“Thank you.”
We both gi
ggled, and I decided right then that tonight would be about fun … and forgetting. At least for one night. Even Cinderella got as much. After tonight I would tell Howard about his parents being in town, and I’d talk to Bill and Jayne. Maybe it was the excitement of the party looming, but for some reason I felt a spark of hope.
Stepping into the ballroom on Howard’s arm, I actually did feel a bit like Cinderella. Like this was my night to shine, to be happy. And I was determined to make that plan happen. I know, a plan to be happy doesn’t sound too magical, but I was going with it.
The first thing I noticed entering the ballroom was the lighting. It glowed perfectly overhead in the middle, yet brightly spotlighted the massive cover display as well as the areas for interaction. The tables were covered with a gorgeous combination of cream and taupe linens, and each displayed a cheerful arrangement of daylilies with a hint of greenery.
We stopped for a moment to take it all in. Then I began looking for my crew. Jayne told me that day she’d stalled Hank long enough and was telling him her answer for sure tonight. If she brought him to the party, then that meant she’d said yes. If she showed up alone, then it was over. I kept my eyes peeled for my petite friend as Howard and I made the initial sweep through the room to check things out. I wanted Jayne to be happy, but I couldn’t help but hope she’d walk in unaccompanied.
After seeing that everything was exactly as expected, I finally saw Adam. As usual, he didn’t disappoint, for fashion was as natural to him as breathing. I already knew he was coming alone, so I didn’t ask if he’d brought someone. That was standard, as well, for functions like these. He always arrived alone, but never left that way.
“Looking fine, as usual, Emma. How you doing, Howie?”
I smiled a thanks and the two men shook hands. Howard replied, “Hanging in there, man.”
“Yeah, I heard about the pub. Emma said you’ve been running your ass ragged, but it’s all gonna pay off soon.”
“Hope so,” Howard said.
“Have you seen Bill or Jayne?” I wasn’t deliberately trying to change the subject; I was anxious to find them. It was getting more crowded by the minute. We’d taken a chance at not having a registered guest list. We figured some people could decide that night and pay at the door. It wasn’t anything extreme, only a nominal entry fee and the ballroom had the capacity. Our initial guest list just didn’t seem bulky enough to carry a party.
“Haven’t seen Jayne, but Bill and Eleanor are right—” he gazed over at the bar area as if he’d seen them there. “Well, they were there a minute ago. Wifey’s already swaying like she’s walking across the deck of the Titanic.”
“You’re kidding.” I glanced at Howard out of pure habit, since he was usually the one who was behind Eleanor’s inebriated state.
“Don’t look at me,” he said. “We just got here.”
“How did this happen, and what the hell were they doing at the bar, then?” If anyone knew the story it would be Adam.
“I think he’s getting her coffee, or something.” Adam shrugged and scanned for eavesdroppers. He leaned in, and Howard and I mirrored him. “I heard he and Mrs. B. had an argument last night. She stormed out and didn’t come back until right before the party. Guess she spent the afternoon drinking with her book club friends.”
“Nice.” I thought about Bill confiding in me the other day, and I wondered what other problems they were having. “How’s Bill handling it?”
“Wait till you see his face. He’s walking around looking like he just robbed a bank. Maybe you should go find him.”
Eleanor was a wonderful lady when she was sober. A few drinks and the zaniness started. Sometimes, if she was really feeling good, she’d start with movie quotes and the talk about how much she missed working on the set. Those wardrobe stories come out almost as much as talking about her own son.
“C’mon.” I grabbed Howard’s arm, and we flew over to the bar to look. Along the way I scanned for faces of people that Bill would want to avoid if Eleanor wasn’t in prime condition. Most of the guests in attendance were readers, clients, potential readers, and even one or two community leaders. But a few of our top advertisers were invited, and those were the ones to worry about.
I noticed Marty sitting alone at a small table, watching the dance floor and bobbing his head. I guessed his girlfriend couldn’t make it—if there even was one. I still thought KittyKat88 was a mail-order bride or code name for the owner of the comic book store.
“There they are,” Howard said, pointing to a table in a far corner.
As we approached, they seemed to be having a quiet, but very private, conversation. I almost wanted to hang a U-turn, but Bill saw me and waved us over.
Eleanor’s eyes were glassy, but she did appear to be on the way down instead of the way up. Howard and I joined them at their table and Eleanor immediately perked up. We all exchanged pleasantries like everything was normal and talked about how great the party had turned out. I got a strange feeling, like they’d slipped into their perfect parents personas. It was comforting, and I tried to push down the nagging thought that this was another relationship threatened by my deception. But parents are supposed to love you no matter what, right? I knew better than anyone that that was not necessarily true. Besides, they weren’t really our parents, I had to remind myself.
Always my hero, Howard stood and asked Eleanor to dance. She hesitated a moment and looked over at Bill.
“C’mon,” Howard said, holding out his hand. I’m sure he knew Eleanor couldn’t resist his charms, and she needed to get her blood pumping. “Let’s go shake up this party.”
She stood and reached her hand out to grab his. “You had me at hello.”
Bill’s head flopped forward and he shook his head. We both chuckled as they glided off to the dance floor. The song playing was not for slow dancing, so I was curious to see what Howard would do with her.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He worked to keep his smile a moment longer. “Oh, yeah. Just the roller coaster of marriage, you know?”
I only nodded, then turned to watch Howard and Eleanor dance. She started with a basic step touch with a light clap. Howard mirrored her and shrugged when he saw me watching.
“An empty house sounds great when it’s filled with screaming kids, but the reality is completely different.”
His comment made me realize that the relationship the four of us had meant as much to them as to us.
“I’m sure it takes some getting used to. But you two will work it out.” I turned to face him, wearing a determined expression. I touched his hand resting on the table. “I know you will.”
He set his hand on mine. “Thanks, Emma. Your support lately has really helped.”
We sat a while longer watching the two boobs take over the dance floor. By the time the song ended, they’d broken out every corny dance move since the seventies. When the music shifted to a slower song, Eleanor wrapped her arms around Howard and he shot me a helpless, “save me” expression. I held back a snicker and then pretended not to be watching.
“Looks like Howard’s got things under control,” Bill said. He gave the room a quick once over. “Mind if I go have a word with Chuck Peterson?” He gestured with his head to one of our interactive stations.
“Not at all. I’ll catch up with you later.” It gave me a chance to look for Jayne. I needed something positive to focus on, and I was praying to find her alone. Before I got up, I executed a discreet make-up check by opening my small purse and holding the mirror inside. Lipstick was perfect, and though I was starving, I didn’t dare risk having a chive in my tooth.
“Would you like to dance?”
I snapped my purse shut and turned to find a hand reaching out to me. I followed a black-suited arm up to wide shoulders and then to sparkling blue eyes. The five o’clock shadow was nowhere to be found on the cheeks that stretched into a smile.
“Guy.”
He stared, waiting for my reply. Reading
his expressions was getting tiresome. The coldness from the day before was gone. Was it that silly hug? Or was he doing the same thing I was, simply trying to enjoy the evening? I went for the latter. I took his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor.
Our last dance, in Vegas, had been a farce and ended abruptly. Would we make it through a whole song this time? The song was a flashback: Take My Breath Away by Berlin. I felt like we should have been on roller skates instead of dancing. Neither of us spoke at first. He held me tight and, for once, I didn’t feel like running. I closed my eyes and pretended nothing else in the world existed. Nothing but the two of us dancing in that moment. God, I was so tired. I wondered why people made things so complicated when the pleasure of life lived in the simple moments.
“It’s a great night.” His words were soft in my ear. I felt his strong arms through his jacket beneath my hands.
“Yeah, everything looks incredible.”
“So do you.”
My heart jumped in surprise. I hadn’t expected that. It wasn’t that he’d said it, it was the way he’d said it. The tone behind it seemed to carry a hidden message, but I remained quiet.
After a moment he pulled back so he could see my face.
“I was going to say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” Then, he must have caught terror in my expression, because he put on a playful grin and added, “I mean, I can’t help it if you look gorgeous. I’m sure everyone else noticed, too.” He chuckled and turned away.
“Thank you,” I said. And it hadn’t killed me to say it. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“You should be very proud,” he said, changing the tone.
“Well, I did have some help.”
“But it was your vision, your plan.”
“I guess.” I was getting used to feeling good. But the word plan clanked around in my brain. Whether he was saying it or not, he thought I was calculating. And the truth was, he was right. I pulled back to put a little distance between us. Howard looked our way as he walked with Eleanor back to the table. Guy smiled and nodded at them.
“You should be dancing with your husband,” he said, his stare still following Howard.
The Tech Guy Page 17