Knowing she was referring to Meg, I asked, “And what did you expect?”
Sarah hitched a shoulder. “A hot mess. Like the last time I saw her.”
“You saw her at her worst.” I conceded with a half shrug.
“And, by that, you mean drunk in a hotel lobby, screaming about a John stiffing her,” she added, “twice, if you get my meaning.”
I peeked at her, not wanting to take my eyes off the road for too long, considering the dark back road from Boulder to Fort Collins. I was mentally and physically drained from the conference and surprise dinner party invite.
Sarah continued. “If I didn’t know anything about her past, I’d consider her pleasant. Charming, even.” Her voice was much harder given the sentiment spoken. “She got a few not-so-subtle zingers in that even your father seemed to notice. I’m pretty sure Allen is the only one who thinks the dinner was a smashing success.”
I nodded, not wanting to acknowledge that was my biggest worry when it came to Allen. His naïveté and Meg’s ability to win him over with the same ease she did with me. How had I not seen her for what she was? Admitting this to Sarah would be akin to disclosing I was desperate for love, making me weak. Even after years of therapy and being in a loving relationship, this was still a major obstacle. Not just knowing my Achilles’ heel but dealing with it and letting Sarah in completely. I gave her glimpses but hadn’t reached the full disclosure stage at all times. What was wrong with me?
“What did she say to you? In Russian?” She slipped off her heels and rubbed the bottom of her right foot. “I’d forgotten you could speak the language some, and I wasn’t thrilled when she ventured into this secret communication.”
“Neither was I, especially in front of you and Allen.” I pulled on the seat belt to loosen it some. “I’m surprised it took you this long to ask. I half expected you to use the twins as an excuse to get me away from the table.”
“The thought did enter my mind, but I didn’t want to leave her alone with Allen. So, what did she say?”
“She said it was clear you were the one and only. Or something like that. Admittedly, even when I practiced, my Russian was rudimentary, and I fear it’s much worse now. You know what they say, use it or lose it.”
“And you said…?” She gave me her full attention.
“‘Without a doubt.’ Or possibly I asked if she had any goats to sell.” I passed a car traveling slower than a grannie in a wheelchair.
“My guess is you got it right. How else do you explain her asking if I wanted a child of my own?” Sarah huffed. “What kind of bitch asks that about our children?”
I merged back into the right-hand lane. “One who never thinks she’s in the wrong, even after all the shit she’s pulled.” My fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.
“You don’t feel that way when I mention having another kid, do you?” Her voice displayed vulnerability.
“Never. There are a lot of things I don’t know or understand in this world, but I know with absolute certainty that you love our children and would do anything for them.”
Sarah placed her hand on my thigh. After several moments of quiet, she sighed. “What are we going to do about Allen? Do you think he’s developing a crush on Meg or is only interested because of the Russian history connection?”
“Surely he wouldn’t drop Bailey for the likes of Meg.”
Sarah tapped her fingers on the side window. “Allen is a sweet kid, and people like Meg know how to lure them into their trap. You know that better than most.”
Not liking the turn in the conversation, I bristled. “What do you suggest I do, then?”
She let out a rush of air, but before she could respond, her phone lit up, illuminating the darkness in the car. “Mom says the kids are sound asleep and we should leave them be ’til morning.”
Just thinking of our sleeping babes blunted my bad mood. “What do you think?”
Sarah stared at the phone, holding it up so I could glance at it. “The photo of them sleeping is pretty convincing.”
“Settled, then. I won’t lie; I’m beat.” I let out a whoosh of air.
Sarah yawned. “Who knew history conferences could be so draining?”
“You’re drained? I spent weeks prepping.” I tapped her leg with my right hand briefly, assuming the nine-and-three position on the wheel.
“Please, I’m surprised you don’t lecture in your sleep.” Sarah leaned over the console. “You, my dear, were born to teach and surprisingly, you’re able to make stuffy history bits somewhat entertaining.” She kissed my cheek.
“Did I impress today?”
“Some,” she purred in my ear. Abruptly, she retreated to her side of the car. “Now, Meg and Allen.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page.”
“You’re going to talk to Allen. Tell him about the Meg you know.”
Stunned that was the course she thought I should take, I tried to stall. “Uh, not exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking more along the lines of banning Meg from interacting with Allen.”
“How in the world do you plan to accomplish that? Allen’s your brother and would do anything for you. Meg is… not to be trusted. Are you afraid of how she’ll react?”
Yes!
But I didn’t answer. “I’m sorry we didn’t make it to Prohibition. Maybe we can talk your mom into watching the twinkies for a long weekend. Would you like a night in Boulder? Just the two of us?”
Sarah sighed but dropped the Meg conversation. She leaned into the SUV’s back seat to retrieve my Patagonia insulated jacket, which I’d brought but didn’t end up needing. She proceeded to bunch it into a pillow of sorts and placed it between the window and seat. “That sounds nice.”
Chapter Twelve
“How was the history nerd fest?” Maddie sat on the barstool with Ollie in her lap.
“Careful, I may pick up on your derision.” Standing on the other side of the island, I flipped the New York Times over to skim the stories below the fold.
“I should hope so. I wasn’t attempting to hide it. Right, Ollie Dollie?” She wiggled Ollie’s feet.
“Don’t egg her on. I have a feeling she’ll give me enough grief once she starts talking in complete sentences.” I grinned at my daughter over my Sit down and shut up; I’m about to teach history mug, a gift from Sarah.
Sarah returned to the kitchen with a freshly changed Freddie. “What’d I miss?”
“Maddie was mocking me, so nothing.” I poured a cup of coffee for Sarah. It was a little before ten, but we both needed extra caffeine.
“You say it like I only ever mock you.” Maddie had the gall to appear innocent.
Before I could respond, Sarah butted in. “Lizzie’s ex Meg—”
Maddie interjected, “No need to name her. Lizzie doesn’t have many—”
I jumped in with, “And you were saying you don’t mock me twenty-four—”
“You two are horrible examples. Bickering like children.” Sarah took a seat next to Maddie, placing Freddie’s bum on the island, facing Sarah. She blew a zerbert on his stomach.
Maddie quickly followed suit with Ollie before the eldest twin could squawk about being left out.
I continued scanning an article, waiting for the twins’ giggles to cease.
“As I was saying, Meg had dinner with us last night.” Sarah avoided my eyes.
Maddie put her hand on Sarah’s leg. “I knew she was presenting, but dinner? How’d that happen? I don’t know much about Meg, except she’s the ex who should never be mentioned.”
Exactly. So why was Sarah uttering her name?
“Allen,” Sarah said.
Maddie shook her head. “I’m not following. How does Allen know Lizzie’s ex?”
“Apparently, he thinks she’s the greatest Russian Revolution historian. I couldn’t peg if his interest is the direct result of Allen’s passion for history or... if he’s developing a crush, like Jorie on Lizzie.” Sarah was tr
ying to steer clear of her main concern—Meg’s connection to me.
Maddie shook her head. “Jorie doesn’t have a crush on Lizzie. She’s struggling with her sexuality, especially given the latest LGBTQ setbacks.”
“How do you know that?” I asked, flipping the paper open to the opinion page.
“I asked her.” She looked at me with an incredulous expression as if the answer were obvious.
“You asked my former student if she had a crush on me?” My brain struggled to understand Maddie’s gumption.
“Yes, except I used the words hots for instead of crush.” Maddie pretended to gobble Olivia’s fingers, which was much appreciated given the happy squeals.
“Because the word crush is too formal?” I tapped my fingers on the countertop, making a mental note to file that tidbit in the talking to millennials file.
Maddie’s eyes darted upward. “Back to Allen and Meg. It’s kinda sweet if he does have a crush”—she looked at me as she emphasized the word—“although slightly creepy given the sibling connection.” Maddie exaggerated a shiver, and Ollie clapped her hands, delighted with her aunt’s antics. Maddie did it again.
“It’s not sweet. I’m worried—”
I cut Sarah off. “I said I’ll take care of it.” Plotting how to take care of the situation with Sarah was one thing, but letting Maddie in, even a little, about Meg wasn’t something I wanted or could handle.
Maddie’s eyes grazed my face and then landed on Sarah. “I’m missing something. Is Meg actually interested in Allen? He’s cute, but in the younger sibling kind of way.”
“No!” I said with too much force.
“Are you jealous? Is that the issue?” Maddie pressed.
“Of course not.” I sipped my tea with an angry slurp, turning the page of the paper, nearly ripping it in half. Why in the world would she ask me that and in front of Sarah?
“Are you positive? Dealing with exes can be confusing.” Maddie offered a sympathetic nod.
Says the woman who slept with her ex, my brother, in my home. “I’m one hundred and ten percent positive,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Are you?” Sarah asked, her voice lacking her usual punch.
I slammed my mug down, sloshing some onto the newspaper. “How could you of all people ask me that? You know—” I gave her the stink eye.
“Oh, the backstory on Meg must be juicy. Tell me.” Maddie motioned for me to come out with it.
“There’s no backstory,” I lamely said.
Maddie tugged on Sarah’s arm. “Spill it.”
Sarah shook her head. “What do you have planned today?” she said in an effort to repair the damage she’d inflicted.
Unfortunately, this only made Maddie convulse in delight. Perhaps it was easier for her to handle my messed-up situations over Sarah’s. More than likely, she was used to dealing with mine since Sarah was usually everyone’s rock. “All these years and I didn’t know you had a past.”
“That’s impossible. Everyone has a past.” I used my best history teacher tone.
“Not with Meg. Whose name really isn’t Meg. She’s…” Maddie tapped her fingers against her teeth. “A Russian spy.” She shook her head. “Too easy these days.” She bolted up. “Another half sibling!”
I stared at her slack-jawed.
“Maddie, please…” Sarah’s face buckled with guilt.
Not deterred, she said, “That’s why Sarah is so concerned about Allen. Avoiding a Flowers in the Attic scenario. You slept with your sister!” She jabbed a finger in my direction, Ollie giggling with all the excitement.
“She’s an alcoholic, who tried to ruin Lizzie’s career, blackmailed her, and became a prostitute,” Sarah blurted out as if she’d literally explode if she kept everything inside.
Maddie laughed. “That’s good but not as good as my theory. Incest is way too taboo.” Maddie repeated the word taboo, emphasizing the second syllable, to Ollie.
I breathed in and out, my shoulders heaving upward with each intake and my eyes boring into Sarah’s.
The smile slowly edged off Maddie’s face, like the sun making way for the night. “That wasn’t a wild smokescreen to get me off the scent. All that actually happened.”
“Thanks for that, Sarah. Heaven forbid you keep that part of my life private.” I stormed out of the kitchen for the library.
Much to my surprise, it was Maddie who appeared in the library not too soon after my hasty departure.
“Don’t start!” I knifed a hand in the air and slammed it down onto my desk.
Maddie perched on the arm of the chair on the opposite side.
“Seriously, Maddie. I’m not in the mood to be your punching bag. Not now.”
She sat quietly, her sympathetic eyes aggravating me further.
She slid off the arm of the chair onto the seat. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t want you to know. I don’t want anyone to know.” I reached for a yellow notepad but ended up tossing it back down onto the desk.
She nodded, clearly not able to think of some snide comment. Or, perhaps, she was waiting for the perfect time.
“Would you leave… please?” I grabbed the notepad again, tempted to shoo Maddie away with it.
Maddie shook her head.
“Don’t, Maddie. Just let me be.”
“We don’t have to talk. I can sit here with you.” She yanked the pad out of my hands, laying it back in its place.
“If I wanted company, I would have asked.” I snorted, resulting in a spray of snot. Another indignity to suffer from the Meg debacle—one I had thought ended years ago.
She slanted her head. “Sometimes you don’t know when to ask for help.”
I groaned, burying my face with my hands. “Jesus, you can be infuriating when you put your mind to it!”
The leather chair creaked, and I prayed she opted to leave. Her hand on my shoulder was further proof no one upstairs ever heard my prayers.
“We all have something we’re not proud of in our past,” she said.
“You’ve had a blackmailing ex?”
Maddie hopped up on the edge of my desk, her legs dangling. “Nope. But one took all of my belongings that I left at her apartment and burned them on the lawn outside of my dorm. For weeks, my roommates blared the Alanis Morissette song ‘You Oughta Know.’”
“Wow.”
Maddie sighed. “Life, love…” She circled a finger. “It can suck.”
“That was profound. Have you considered becoming a life coach?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“How come you can make jokes, but I can’t?” she asked with a smile.
“You aren’t funny,” I deadpanned to the best of my abilities.
“Are you okay?” She squeezed my shoulder.
“You must be worried if you resisted going in for the kill.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I care about you.” Her voice lacked her usual smart-ass vibe. “I know you were kidding about the life coach thing, but maybe it would help you to talk to someone.”
“I stopped going to therapy months ago. Everything had been going so well.” I tapped my open hand against my forehead, making a slapping sound.
“I know. I was thinking of Courtney.”
“Courtney, Courtney?”
She nodded.
“Kit’s fiancée, who potentially could be Tie’s sister-in-law if Kit and Courtney decide to take their sham of an engagement to the next level? That’s your idea of the perfect life coach?”
“She’s a great listener and has a unique perspective on human behavior. When I was spiraling out of control—”
I pointed a finger at her. “Like when you slept with my married brother in my home?”
She showed her palms, shaking her head to stop me. “I talked to her quite a bit, and Court did a couple of things for me. One,”—Maddie extended her index finger in the air—“she didn’t judge me. Two,”—she added her middle finger—“she let me talk to figure things out
myself with minimal guidance.” Maddie lowered her head to make direct eye contact. “Courtney has a gift. You really should talk to her.”
I sucked in a breath, a technique I utilized to keep from saying the first thing that came to my mind, since history, not to mention my therapist, warned me to think before speaking. “I’ll… think about it.”
Maddie hopped to her feet and did a happy gig accompanied with hand clapping.
“You seem way too excited about my emotional distress.”
“Not that part. You’re learning. There’s hope for you yet, Lizzie Petrie.”
I exaggerated an eye roll, knowing she was wrong.
Chapter Thirteen
Ethan’s ranch-style house in Loveland was modest but true to his character. All the surfaces were spotless with minimalist decoration, aside from books overflowing on the shelves and a small pile of paperbacks next to a worn recliner near the fireplace.
Our wives were in the kitchen, supposedly prepping dinner, but Ethan suspected it was their way of retreating to dish the dirt about us since the dinner involved ordering pizza.
In the corner of the family room, Casey sat at a kid-size table with the twins, playing tea-party host. “One lump or two, Freddie?”
Freddie rubbed the errant hairs on top of his head, a crooked grin on his adorable face.
“Two,” Casey confirmed with a confident nod.
“Did he rub twice?” I whispered out of the side of my mouth to Ethan.
He hefted a shoulder. “It’s hard to tell with Casey. She has a script inside her head and goes with it no matter what. Comes from being an only child I think. Like you.”
I laughed. “Seems like I have siblings and family connections coming out of the ying-yang these days.”
“Ah, but during your formative years, you were alone, mostly. And that’s why you’re this way.” He tapped a finger against his temple. “Locked away ninety percent of the time.”
“Am not!”
“Are too. You try to act nonchalant, but underneath it all, trouble is brewing.” He crossed his reedy arms, staring at me with a confess all expression.
A Conflicted Woman Page 14