Prints Charming

by Rebeca Seitz

  Lydia shook her head. “Anyway, I know exactly what you mean about not scrapping at home. I get more accomplished at Mac’s than I could ever dream about doing in my own studio at home. Usually, just as I get going, the phone rings or the dog throws up or something else happens.”

  “Yeah, or the husband decides it’s time to remember that you’re married.” Mari jerked her gaze up as her hand flew to her mouth. “Ave Maria! I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

  Lydia threw back her head and laughed. “Honey, there’s no need to apologize. I only wish that was one of the problems I had.” She went back to spreading peanut butter on bread. “Dale seems to have forgotten that aspect of marriage ever since these little ones”—she nodded her head toward the still-sleeping twins—“made their entrance into the world.”

  “Oh, now I’m doubly sorry.” Embarrassment flooded Mari’s voice.

  “Don’t be. I’m trying to figure out if there’s something I can do to make him notice me again. Sounds like whatever you’re doing is working. Got any pointers?” Lydia threw the question out with as much nonchalance as she could muster. Sharing the fact that her husband no longer wanted her physically was appalling, but she was determined to find a solution, even if it meant humiliating herself.

  Mari looked up into the branches of the old elm and bit her lip as she thought. “What’s his favorite color?’

  “Orange—Tennessee orange. If it’s decorated with Vols, he’ll love it.”

  “So we’re dealing with a sports nut.”

  “That’s the understatement of the century. His mistress is ESPN. How do I compete with that?” Lydia cringed at the desperation in her voice. How had they gotten into this conversation? She hadn’t invited Mari to the picnic to air her dirty laundry.

  “Vols lingerie,” Mari said with a straight face, and Lydia dropped her knife.

  “You cannot be serious.”

  Mari grinned. “Oh, yeah, it’s made. You can find it online, or there’s a cute little store out on West End that sells it.”

  “Do I even want to know how you have this information?”

  “John has his favorite teams as well.” Lydia gazed in surprise at the devilish smile that crossed Mari’s face.

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “I’m not. You can find bras, teddies, garters, lots of stuff all made with the team’s logo.” Mari opened a bag of chips and dumped some onto a plate. She rolled the top of the bag and set it back on the table.

  “Okay, but what if that doesn’t work?” Lydia went back to the peanut butter. “I mean, it’s one thing to be unnoticed when I’m not trying. It’s a whole other thing to try, and get rebuffed.”

  “If it doesn’t work, you try something else.” Mari shrugged.

  “But it will work. I guarantee if you put on Vols lingerie and go stand in front of the television screen in the middle of SportsCenter, he’ll notice.”

  “Stand in my living room in the middle of the day in only my lingerie?” Lydia’s voice rose to a squeak. “Have you looked at me? I’m not exactly a supermodel.”

  Mari set down the soda can she had just opened and stepped back. Slowly, she looked Lydia up and down with an appraising eye as a breeze blew across the table, rustling the leaves in the trees.

  “Exactly what is your problem area? I see gorgeous curly hair, a beautiful olive complexion, and a great hourglass figure. Which part don’t you like?”

  Lydia snorted in disbelief. “Um, all of it? These hips?” She smacked the sides of her jeans. “These thighs? Or maybe these arms? I mean, come on. I wave, and the skin under my arms waves back.”

  Mari burst out laughing. “You really think if you step in front of the television in a push-up bra that he’s going to be looking at your arms? Um, no, chica.” She waggled her finger at Lydia. “Trust me on this one.”

  Lydia took a deep breath and considered it for a minute. On the one hand, she would be mortified if this didn’t work. The idea of Dale failing to notice her if she tried it was unbearable. But she also wasn’t happy with the way things were. Either she could try this and at least know she had done something about the problem, or she could keep griping about it and waiting for some sportscaster to remind Dale to pay attention to her.

  Oh, what the heck? “What’s the web site and where’s the store?”

  Mari looked up and grinned again. “Good decision.” She gave Lydia the web address and described where the store was, then turned toward the playground. “If you’re ready, I’ll go get Jane and Emmy so we can eat.”

  “I’m ready.” Lydia sat down hard on the picnic bench. “Hey, Mari?” She rested her chin in her cupped hands.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Mari held up her ring finger and pointed to the diamond there. “De nada.”

  She headed off to the playground, and Lydia stared out across the park. She had just decided not only to wear lingerie in the middle of the day, but to do so in her living room. She’d have to ask Mac if she could keep the twins for a few hours. But first things first: she had to visit that web site and see how long it took to get an order shipped. Lord knew her marriage was growing more and more stale by the day.

  Emmy’s giggle reached the picnic table a split second before Mari and Jane came around the trees with her.

  “Okay, ladies. Lunch is served,” Lydia said.

  “Hey, is Mac coming?” Jane sat down and unscrewed the lid of her water bottle.

  “She said she’d try. She’s got Kesa this afternoon.”

  “Kesa’s her granddaughter, right?” Mari said.

  “Right.”

  “Who is her daughter married to?”

  “She’s not.”

  “Oh.”

  “It was a hard situation for her,” Lydia said. “But she chose to parent rather than place Kesa for adoption since Mac promised to help. And it’s been good for her. Tabby’s straightened up her act a lot since Kesa.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. It had gotten so bad that Mac and I joked she should maybe start a scrapbook just for Tabby’s legal papers.”

  “You’re kidding. Es loco.”

  “Crazy is right. But, like I said, it’s getting better.”

  “Momma, I wanna go back to the swings. Can I go, please, pretty please?”

  Mari tugged on one of Emmy’s pigtails. “As soon as you finish up that sandwich, you can. But you have to stay on the swings that I can see from here, okay?”

  Emmy crammed the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and bobbed her head up and down. She scrambled off the picnic bench and took off for the swings.

  “She’s adorable, Mari,” Jane said.

  “Gracias.”

  “So are you going to tell us all about his visit, or do I have to pry it out of you?” Lydia asked.

  “Whose visit?” Mari shifted on the bench to look at Jane. “Is this the chico you’re having dinner with on Friday?”

  “One and the same. He came over with a gift today.” Jane couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her face.

  “A gift? Oooh, do tell.”

  “Yoo-hoo!” Mac’s deep voice soared over the expanse of grass between parking lot and picnic area. “You girls startin’ without me?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Lydia scooted over to make room for Mac.

  “Mmm-hmm. What’d I miss?” Mac snagged a potato chip.

  “Nothing yet. Jane was just about to tell us the skinny on a gift Jake brought her.”

  Mac’s eyes widened and she nodded. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” She gestured with the chip for Jane to continue.

  “At first I wasn’t sure what it was, because it was in two bags.”

  “Two presents?” Mari said.

  “They went together. The first was a big bag of AOL CDs, and the second was a mini-sledgehammer.” She took a drink of her Diet Mello Yello and waited for them to get it.

  Lydia got there first. “To smash the Internet
! How smart is that?” She slapped the table. “I love this guy.”

  Mari’s forehead creased. “Smash the Internet? No com-prendo.”

  “Since my ex cheated through the Internet, Jake thought I might want to get back at it. So—get this, girls—he sat at our mailboxes for two hours getting enough CDs for me to smash.”

  “No way.”

  “That man is smitten with you, sure’s I’m sittin’ here.”

  “You think? Really? Maybe he was just being nice.”

  “Nice is a card or flowers,” Lydia said. “I’m with Mac. He’s smitten.”

  Jane grinned again. “I think he almost kissed me.”

  Mari squealed. “Oh, I love a good romance! Why ‘almost,’ though?”

  “Wilson interrupted us.” Jane explained what had happened.

  “Did you kill the dog?” Lydia said.

  “No, I thanked him.”

  “Thanked him? Why in the world did you do that?”

  “This is all moving a little too fast, don’t you think? I mean, we haven’t even been on a date.”

  “But he’s going to give you the best date you’ve had,” Lydia said. “I’d bet on it.”

  “Mac, what do you think? You’re the wise one of all of us.”

  Mac chuckled. “Now, I don’t know ’bout that.” She leveled a gaze at Jane. “But I wouldn’t bet against it. You best be makin’ sure you ready to be courted.”

  “Courted?” Mari said.

  “Pursued,” Lydia explained.

  “Ah, got it.”

  “I think I am. By him, anyway. I’ll admit, it’s strange to be one-on-one with any man other than Bill. But when Jake’s around, it’s like I’ve never even dated. No, that’s not right. I mean, it’s like it’s all new again.” She shook her head. “Does that make any sense?”

  “Makes good sense,” Mac said. “Been a year now, ain’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mac nodded her gray head. “’Bout time, then.”

  Jane began picking up her lunch mess. “I guess we’ll find out on Friday. It’ll either go great or put an end to this whole thing.”

  “I vote great.” Lydia held up her hand.

  “Me too.” Mari raised her hand as well.

  “I’ll make it unanimous.” Mac’s hand joined the others in the air. “Now, which one of us it gonna be?” All the hands fell down.

  “What?” Jane said.

  “Which one of us you want to capture this on film for you?”

  “You mean take pictures on my date with Jake?” Jane wadded up a napkin. “I don’t think so.”

  “He ain’t gonna know we’re there. We’ll just take pictures while you get ready. That way, if it works out, you got some-thin’ to scrapbook later.”

  “And if it doesn’t work out?”

  Mac shrugged. “We throw out a few dollahs in pictures.”

  Jane considered it for a second. If she and Jake did work out, it would be very cool to have pictures from the night of their first date in a scrapbook. On the other hand, wasn’t this a bit like those women who bought a wedding dress before they ever had a boyfriend?

  “I don’t know, girls.”

  “Aw, come on, Jane.” Lydia tossed a napkin ball in the nearby trash container. “Nobody but us has to know.”

  Jane walked her own trash over to the container, then turned and faced the Sisters. “Okay, how about this? I’m supposed to smash the AOL CDs with Jake that night. I’ll ask him to take pictures with my camera. That way, even if it doesn’t work out with us, I’ll have some neat pictures.”

  “That’s fine by me.” Mac pointed a finger at Jane. “You just make sure you don’t forget that camera, you hear?”

  Jane nodded. “I hear.”

  chapter 15

  This was ridiculous. Jane threw yet another sweater onto a bed already heaping with them and blew out her breath in frustration. Every single sweater she owned was now crumpled on top of her bed, none of them having made the grade for pictures on her first date with Jake.

  She put her hands on her hips and looked at herself in the mirror. “Get it together, Jane. Just grab something, anything, and put it on,” she said to her reflection in the oval mirror framed in carved mahogany. A baby-blue sweater with a scooping cowl neck peeked from beneath the hill of wool and cotton. Snatching it, she pulled it over her head, smoothed it down, and turned to look back into the mirror. Whatever. She had to get out of here or she was going to be late for what was supposed to be the most fantastic date of her life that started in four—no, three—minutes, right across the breezeway. Her jewelry box slid a bit toward the edge of the dresser as she threw open the top and grabbed big silver hoops, putting them in on the go.

  Wilson watched from the bed, only raising his head at the occasional slamming of a drawer. “You have it so easy, buddy.”

  She put the second hoop’s clasp into her earlobe. “All you have to do is eat and sleep all day.” She walked over to the bed and pulled her black boots from underneath, then sat down beside the floppy-eared dog. He crawled his way up to her lap and rested his head on her leg. “You’re a good dog, Wilson.”

  She patted him on the head and scratched his ears before pulling on her boots. Finishing the job, she sprang up from the bed and twirled in a circle. “How do I look?” Wilson raised his head and gave a short bark. “Good enough. Okay, Momma’s gotta go, so head to your crate.”

  Wilson jumped down off the bed and walked over to his crate, nudged the door open with his nose, and went inside.

  Jane worked the latches, then headed for the door.

  Grabbing the big red bag full of CDs to smash, she took a couple of deep breaths before opening her heavy door and stepping out into what had become frigid winter air. No trace lingered of the beautiful seventy-degree weather they had enjoyed at the beginning of the week. Now frost covered the ground, and fireplace smoke could be smelled in the air. Jane raised her head and sniffed the scent of winter. Hopefully, the chance to do that was disappearing. Enough of all this winter chill.

  Jane knocked on Jake’s door and turned to see the moon’s reflection on the pond. Despite the freezing temperatures, it was a beautiful night, and she didn’t have to cook dinner. Life could be much worse.

  “Hi, there. You’re right on time,” Jake said. “Come on in.” He made a sweeping gesture into the apartment, and Jane stepped in and looked around. Dark leather club chairs sat facing a crackling fire, over which hung a plasma television. His coffee table seemed to be made of glass and iron. Underneath the entire arrangement ran an oriental carpet with reds and purples swirling amid golds and browns. A couch took up the side length of the room.

  “Your place is lovely.” She set the gift down and blew on her hands, rubbing them together in an effort to get warm.

  “Thanks. How about I put those CDs somewhere and get you something to drink? Coke? Water?” He picked up the red bag and turned toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, thanks. Water would be good.”

  “Not a problem.” A timer buzzed in the kitchen. “That’s the bread. I’ll pull that out of the oven, and how about you take a seat in the living room?”

  “Sure, go ahead.” She walked over to one of the club chairs and sank down into its leathery softness. Man, that feels good. She had sat in a chair nearly identical to this one at Pottery Barn, and then gaped in sticker shock at the $1,799 price tag. The computer business must be doing well.

  Major Carter stared at her from the arm of the other chair. Jane couldn’t decide if the cat was sizing her up or just staying on guard in case Wilson came bounding in the door. Deciding on the latter, she reached out from her chair and petted the fluffy cat’s head.

  “Hey, there, Major Carter. You don’t have to worry. No doggies are coming over tonight.” The cat began a low, satisfied purr as Jane scratched around its ears. “But if your daddy and I are going to be friends, I think you two have to continue learning how to tolerate each other.”

  “Ok
ay, we’re all set.” Jake came out of the small kitchen and gestured to the table in the dining nook just off the entryway. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes before Stargate starts, which should give us plenty of time to eat and smash some CDs, don’t you think?”

  She tried not to roll her eyes at his fanaticism as she pulled back from the cat. “Sure. Are we smashing or eating first?”

  “Eating, definitely. You’ll need your energy for the destruction.” He grinned at her, and she felt the fluttery wings in her stomach again at the light in his eyes. Steady, girl. The night is young.

  She walked over to the beautiful wrought-iron and glass table and took in his careful planning. He knew how to set a table. Or had looked it up somewhere. Gleaming silverware was placed on white linen napkins that had been expertly folded into little pockets. Her eye took in the small bowl of rosebuds with white taper candles placed on either side in crystal candlesticks. Her brows drew together as she tried to make sense of the scene before her. He was a sci-fi nut. Granted, he had a cat, and that was a bit out of the ordinary, but he also had real silver flatware and linen napkins. Something was rotten in the state of Denmark. Had she misread every signal? Was he gay?

  “This is beautiful, Jake.” She looked into his hopeful eyes.

  “Great.” He blew out his breath. “I should call my sister, then, and tell her the tutoring paid off.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Part of the best date you can remember should involve a unique dinner, right? Let’s just say this isn’t my normal Friday-evening fare.” He nodded toward the extravagant table. “So I called my sister. She was so happy to hear I was having a woman to dinner, she rushed right over with all her stuff. Even drew me a diagram of where it all goes.”

  Oh, good. Not gay, just more thoughtful than any man she’d ever met. “Please thank her for me. It’s beautiful.”

  “I’ll pass the message along. Ready to eat?”

  She nodded, and he pulled out her chair. Settling her in, he took out a match from the box on the table, struck it, and lit the candles.

  “So, tell me about the rest of your week.” He sat down across from her and placed his napkin in his lap. She told him about her trip to the park with Lydia and Mari and was thrilled when he laughed in all the right places. This sparkly feeling inside her was new. Not even with Bill had she had this. Their quiet friendship had never developed into a flaming romance like the ones she read about in novels. She didn’t know what to do with the warmth stealing up her cheeks as Jake smiled at her across the table and regaled her with stories of Major Carter’s antics.