They chatted until we pulled into the parking lot of the new Italian place twenty minutes from our home.
The four of us made our way to the entrance, with Gabe dashing ahead to hold the door.
The hostess led us through the darkened dining room, although it was still daylight outside. There was a large party in the back, no one under the age of sixty. The couples nearest our table were even older.
Each of us took a seat at the square table.
“This is a happening place,” Gabe joked. “Maybe pasta is easy for denture wearers.”
I glanced at Sarah, who’d picked the restaurant, wondering if this was adding another dent to Sexy Sarah and bringing her one step closer to Frumpy Sarah.
“Or there’s a nursing home attached,” Gabe continued, much to my horror.
“I’ll have you know everyone has been raving about this place.” Maddie pulverized my foot with hers under the table as if I should be the one to get my stepbrother under control. She was dating him.
“Who’s everyone?” Gabe pushed.
“Everyone,” Maddie spoke loudly and slowly.
Gabe nodded. “Got it.”
Wanting to keep the conversation lighthearted, I said, “These two love to give others shit, but when it’s dished back, they get a scooch testy.” I held my arms out wide, smiling.
“I’ve noticed that trend.” Gabe situated his hand on Maddie’s forearm on the table, and she, in turn, stuck her tongue out at him. “The classic comeback.”
I gave Sarah’s thigh a pat, and she good-humoredly flicked my hand off. At least, I think she was being playful.
Gabe switched topics, maybe sensing the mood could plummet to the level of I’d rather eat a shit burger than pretend I’m having a good time. “Who’s watching the twinkies?”
“My mom and Troy.” The way she pronounced Troy made it more than apparent that Sarah wasn’t happy with the new man in Rose’s life.
Gabe’s eyes clouded with distress, and he looked to me to bail him out. Maybe it was time to teach him my Golden Rule when it came to irritable women, Don’t speak unless spoken to.
Maddie jumped in. “He seems like a nice guy.” Her voice was soft and lacked her typical southern sarcastic bite.
“Many thought Ted Bundy was a nice young man.” Sarah flicked her menu open.
Whoa! Sarah had just compared her mom’s boyfriend to a serial killer.
This was huge.
For once, I wasn’t the one acting like a child.
Inside, I did a victory dance.
The waiter arrived, asking if we wanted wine. Maddie quickly ordered their best merlot, and I added grappa, which we usually reserved for after dinner, but the situation called for it. Maddie gave me an approving nod, and I mentally swiped my forehead with the back of my hand. Grappa wasn’t on the cheer up the stay-at-home mom list, but I didn’t think the creators of the list factored in the mom raising twins and her mother starting to date a man after years of not dating anyone following her husband’s death.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Maddie asked, bracing herself for a tart response, making it clear Sarah wasn’t only taking it out on me.
“About what? That my mother is sleeping with a man more than fifteen years younger? What’s to talk about? She likes him. He’s poor. My mother is rich. It seems like a match made in heaven.” Throughout it all, Sarah kept her face purposefully neutral, and at the end, she offered her best Stepford wife smile. “I think I’m going to start with the Venetian crab cakes. Shrimp and crab Alfredo for the main course, and I have my eye on the salted caramel or triple chocolate cheesecake.”
“Hell, why not get both?” Gabe said with an encouraging, albeit businessman, smile.
The waiter returned and did the whole uncorking routine that gave everyone a chance to focus on something other than my wife. After getting approval and filling everyone’s glass, he placed a basket of breadsticks along with an olive oil and herb dip in the middle of the table, followed by getting his notepad ready. Had he sensed it would be best to move us along to avoid an ugly scene?
Each of us ordered, doing our best to pretend Sarah wasn’t in the midst of a minor mental breakdown.
As soon as the waiter left, Sarah said, “I mean, what do the two of them have in common? He’s never been married. That’s odd, right? A man in his forties who’s never been married? What do you think, Gabe?” She plucked a breadstick from the basket, more intent on shredding it than eating.
Gabe swallowed, his eyes watching as she tore another chunk off, swirling it in the olive oil concoction. “Well—”
Maddie cut him off. “Is it the age difference, money, or the simple fact that your mom is seeing someone after all these years? Or do you feel like she’s trying to replace your father?” She held four fingers in the air.
Sarah shot the small glass of grappa, which I’d always assumed was the type of drink one should sip, and chased it with a massive dose of wine. “I’m being an asshole, aren’t I?”
All three of us vehemently shook our heads. While Sarah’s father died when she was so young, and Sarah didn’t really remember him, I doubted she ever fully recovered from the loss. There were constant reminders in movies, books, casual conversation, Father’s Day—the list went on. Over the years, Sarah had developed an idealized version of her father, and it was nearly impossible for anyone to compete with the sainted dead.
On top of that was the age and wealth differences between Rose and Troy, which I noticed were near the top of Sarah’s gripes each and every time.
“Who cares that he’s a first-grade teacher? I was… am a teacher. There’s nothing wrong with a man who’s never had children teaching six-year-olds, right? It doesn’t make him a pedophile or something.” She rooted around in her purse for her phone. “I’m going to check on the kids.”
When she was out of earshot, Maddie said, “What does she plan on asking? Hey, is Troy alone with the kids?”
I sighed. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s been researching those nanny cams you hide in a teddy bear or something.” I bolted upright. “She did insist I bring both of the twins’ favorite stuffed animals even though Rose has duplicates of all their toys at her place.”
“It’s a sad day when you’re the rational one in the relationship,” Maddie said.
“Tell me about it. I’m totally out of my depth here.” I ran a hand over the top of my head, staring at Maddie in hopes she’d have a magic potion to make everything go back to normal.
Gabe studied my face and then Maddie’s to see if he was missing something. Shaking his head, he asked, “How’d they meet?”
“A seniors’ cruise.” I craned my neck to ensure Sarah was still outside the restaurant on the phone.
“I thought he wasn’t old enough to go on a seniors’ cruise.”
Maddie scouted over her shoulder. “He isn’t. One of Rose’s cruising buddies mentioned her son lived in Fort Collins.”
“Troy’s mom set them up?” Gabe’s voice squeaked.
Maddie waved the notion away. “No! Actually, the woman isn’t speaking to either one anymore.”
Gabe tapped his fingers against his wineglass. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Sarah is upset Rose is dating Troy. His mother isn’t speaking to him or to Rose.”
“Families! They’re not for sissies.” Maddie selected a breadstick.
“How long have they been dating?”
“Not long. A couple of months, maybe. I haven’t quite pinned down the exact date.” I refilled my water glass from the pitcher.
Maddie pantomimed slitting her throat, using the breadstick. “Shush, she’s coming back.”
“Sad day all around,” Gabe muttered to his lap.
“What’d I miss?” Sarah wore a fake smile.
“How are the twins?” I rose and pulled Sarah’s chair out for her.
Sarah cupped my cheek. “Fine, I think.”
“I’m sure they’re happy. They love their gra
ndmother.” I retook my seat.
Sarah flicked her fingers to get the waiter’s attention. Raising her empty grappa glass, Sarah queried the rest of us with an arched eyebrow. Maddie indicated she’d have another. I wanted to thank her for taking the hit for the team. Sarah clearly intended to get drunk, and drinking wasn’t my strong suit, not to mention I had to drive us and the twins home.
Gabe pressed his lips together in understanding.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Now that the kiddos are a year old, do you have any plans for going back to work?” Gabe asked. “Or do you plan to have another baby?”
My heart stilled at the thought.
Sarah jostled her head to the left and right, as if contemplating the pros and cons. “We haven’t decided yet about expanding the family.” The way she breezed over this part troubled me some, as if the final solution—I cringed over the phrase that popped into my mind. How could I use a Nazis phrase when it came to any aspect of my family life?
Maybe sensing my mood, Sarah plowed on. “As for working, I don’t want a full-time job. I’ve been brainstorming ideas of businesses I can start at home, but so far, I haven’t landed on an idea that gets my blood going.”
Unless she counted the pedophile app she’d proposed the other day. Perhaps I should do some research about socially acceptable part-time jobs for stay-at-home moms.
“What about hosting Tupperware parties? I recently read a book where one of the main characters made a ton of money doing them.” Maddie buttered a piece of a breadstick.
Sarah crumpled her face. “Do those still exist?”
“In the book they did, although it was set in Australia. You may have to move Down Under.” Maddie hitched one of her shoulders.
“If you want to get out of the house, you can work part-time in the flower shop,” Gabe tossed out. “I’m sure Mom wouldn’t mind if you brought the twins. Allen was practically raised in the Denver store.”
Sarah did her head bob once again, weighing the possibility. “Maybe.”
By the time we were halfway through our main courses, both Maddie and Sarah were sozzled. Now there was a great word to teach the twins. I snapped my fingers under the table, unfortunately snaring Sarah’s attention.
“Yes, Lizzie?” she added five extra Zs.
“What? Oh, nothing.” I set my fork and knife in the five o’clock position on my plate, indicating I was done.
“You were just snapping your fingers for…” Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Is this about Troy?”
“No! Not even close.” I simulated waving a white flag.
“Then what?” If she weren’t glaring at me with such hostility, I would have laughed.
“I just thought of a word I hadn’t used in some time; that’s all.” I stared at the water glass in my hands as if the clear liquid could save me.
Maddie giggled. “Which word is it this time?”
“Uh… I don’t remember.” I shrugged in an aw-shucks way.
“Liar!” Maddie wielded her knife.
Sarah clumsily set her wineglass down. “That’s not it, Maddie.” She spun her head in my direction. “This is about Troy. Lizzie’s gloating because, for once, it’s my family causing a stink. Not her cruel mother—who’s now dead—her cheating father, or the conniving Peter, who probably has wet dreams involving ways to steal Lizzie’s trust fund.” Sarah, with a victorious grin, turned her attention to Maddie for support.
Maddie, though, had buried her face in a napkin.
Shell-shocked by her verbal diarrhea, I curbed a nasty retort. Sarah enjoyed playful banter, but nothing about what she’d said was funny. However, she’d put up with plenty of uncomfortable family situations for my benefit, and deep down, I knew Sarah would regret everything once the grappa fugue dissipated.
Sarah’s leap into the Troy zone was tenuous at best. But, that wasn’t the troubling aspect with Gabe present. His mother had been my father’s mistress for years.
Gabe let out a rush of air.
Realization slowly seeped into Sarah’s expression. “Oh, Gabe—”
He showed his palms. “It’s okay—”
“No, it’s not,” Sarah said. “I…”
“Sozzled,” I blurted to save Sarah, even though I was hurt, knowing if the situation were reversed, she’d jump into a pit of vipers for me.
All three of them turned to me.
“I was thinking the word sozzled, because—” I pointed at Sarah.
Sarah blinked. “You were going to tell our children that I’m beyond drunk?”
“The thought did cross my mind.” My shoulders shriveled inward, and I offered a weak smile.
She burst into laughter, Maddie quickly joining in. “Only you would s-see a t-teachable moment in this s-situation.” Sarah slurred a few words.
“How often will the twins see you sozzled?” I joked, adding mentally, hopefully never like this.
“How long will my mom continue seeing Troy?” Her face had traces of merriment, but there was hardness in her tone.
“It’s okay, you know,” I said.
Sarah frowned. “What?”
“Not knowing how to handle a family situation. Families are hard, even perfect ones.”
“My mom is not perfect!”
I darted my arms in the air. “Hallelujah! I’ve been trying to tell you that for years. All the times she’s mimed mowing me down with her car, accompanied with sound effects.”
“She does that?” Gabe asked, bewildered. “She seems so nice.”
“She does that all the time.” I punctuated each word by tapping my finger on the tabletop.
Maddie conceded with a half shrug.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “She has her reasons.”
“Had a reason. I’ve done nothing wrong since—”
Maddie and Sarah chortled together.
“Don’t get carried away. You still have your Lizzie moments.” Sarah caressed my hand. “For the most part, I love your Lizzie moments.”
“Last week, Lizzie was on a walk listening to an audiobook”—Maddie gestured I had on massive headphones—“using the Bose noise-cancelling pair Sarah gave her for her birthday, when a neighbor stopped her to talk. Lizzie didn’t realize until two-thirds of the conversation that she’d left the headphones in place and was shouting at George.”
“You weren’t even there.” I knifed a finger in the air.
“But I witnessed the whole thing from the window. Poor George winced every time you spoke, as if your words were assaulting his hearing aids. Even Gandhi tried to cover his ears with his paws. Why didn’t you just turn off the book?”
“I did, but the headphones are great for blocking out most sound. Like when you’re over.”
“Maybe I can borrow them for when Mom wants to talk about how great her sex life is.” Sarah’s body tensed again, making it clear that the Troy issue was never far from her mind.
“She talks about that?” My mouth dangled open.
“No! I was being sarcastic—another word you can teach our kids.” Her shoulders relaxed, and a smile transformed her face.
I slanted my head to peer into Sarah’s eyes. “You’re back.”
“What does that mean?”
“Carefree Sarah.”
“Not Sozzled Sarah?”
“Oh, no. You’re still drunk. Speaking of, one more for the road?” I motioned for the waiter, wondering if Sarah would fall asleep in the car, forestalling what I believed was an inevitable blowup with her mother.
“Are you trying to take advantage of me?” Sarah didn’t bother whispering.
“Please, that would be wrong,” I said.
“It would take my mind off Troy.” She acted as if that was a perfectly normal diversion.
I spoke to Maddie. “Does that count as a Sarah moment? Mentioning her mom’s boy toy while trying to seduce me?”
Maddie crinkled her forehead. “I think it ticks all the boxes.”
“You have boxes?
” I asked, miming ticking one with my finger.
“Stupid? Embarrassing? Insensitive? Socially inept?” Maddie displayed four fingers in the air.
“Are you three like this all the time?” Gabe asked, tugging on the collar of his shirt.
We all nodded.
“Harsh, man. Harsh.”
I squinted to see if there were beads of sweat on his forehead or upper lip. Not seeing any, I said, “I’m laying the blame on the grappa, but if you plan to continue dating Maddie, get used to this.”
“The first time Lizzie had grappa was on a date with me. My mom had to pick us up, and Lizzie puked in the back seat.” Sarah acted out the last bit in an exaggerated way.
Gabe burst into laughter.
“I didn’t puke!”
“Got proof of that?” Sarah crossed her arms, pushing her breasts upward.
“My word isn’t enough?”
“Not even close. It’s the Petrie factor.” The frivolity in her expression had returned, another pivot in her seesaw emotions.
“You’re such a Cavanaugh!” I countered. “And if you keep it up, you’ll be ticking more of Maddie’s boxes. Not me.”
Gabe prepped for another Sarah outburst, but she nearly spurted wine out her nose, laughing.
“Finally, the shoe is on the other foot.” I waggled a finger at Sarah.
“And that’s all the time we have tonight, folks.” Maddie gestured for the check.
Chapter Five
After putting the twinkies to bed, I clambered under the covers, wrapping one arm over Sarah and tugging her back against me.
Sarah’s body became rigid. “I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier.”
“What, exactly?” I kissed the back of her head, not wanting to fall into a Sarah pitfall.
“About your dad cheating.”
“He did cheat. For years.”
“Yes, with Gabe’s mom. I feel awful.” She snuggled closer.
“But not for tossing me under the bus every chance you got?” I tightened my arm around her.
“Never that,” she joked.
I playfully groaned. “I’m sure Gabe understood, but it may behoove you to apologize again. Sober, this time.”
“Behoove,” she parroted, and I sensed her rolling her eyes. “I’d send flowers if he didn’t work for a flower business. Maybe a cookie bouquet.”
A Conflicted Woman Page 4