by Rebeca Seitz
She assured the heiress that the fund-raiser planning was on schedule and talked through her ideas for table decorations and entertainment. Flipping the phone closed as she pulled into the parking lot, Jane made a mental note to get some work done on Sonya’s event.
She was still sorting through ideas in her mind as she walked through the automatic doors of the store and nearly fell over a shopping cart.
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see y—Jane?”
She’d know that voice anywhere. What woman wouldn’t know the voice of the man whose last name she had for two years?
“Bill! Hi. Fancy meeting you here.” Seeing his familiar face brought a rush of nostalgia she didn’t want to think about.
“Yeah, what are the odds? How have you been?”
“Oh, good, good. And you?”
His voice was the same. He was even wearing a shirt she’d gotten him their last Christmas together. “I’m okay. How’s Wilson?”
“He’s fine. Look, I’d love to talk, but I’m in a rush, as usual.” She turned to go, desperate to escape.
“Oh, okay. It was good to see you.”
“You too. Bye now.”
Of all the stores in all of Nashville, you have to walk into the one your ex-husband visits. Smart move, Jane. She berated herself all the way to the office supply section, through the check-out counter, back into the Blazer, and down the road to Mac’s house.
By the time she arrived, Jane was certain that her subconscious had sought Bill out to make her feel guilty about a superb date with Jake.
She knocked on Mac’s door and went inside. “Mac, girls, I’m here,” she called out.
“In the kitchen.” Mac yelled back.
Jane made her way through the living room, taking in the smell of chocolate in the air.
“Do I smell something yummy?” She parked her tote at the base of the stairs and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Mac made fudge.” Mari cut a piece from the dark slab in the center of the table. “And it’s heavenly.”
“Thank goodness. I’m in bad need of chocolate right now.”
Jane cut herself a generous helping.
“Bad need?” Lydia pushed an empty glass and the gallon of milk toward Jane’s end of the table. “What’s going on? Was the date not good?”
“Oh, the date was excellent. Wonderful. Made the top of my date list of all time.”
“Yay!” Mari clapped her hands. “I love love!”
“He was amazing.” Jane took a big bite of fudge and moaned as it melted in her mouth. “Mac, you are a genius.”
“Now, I don’t know ’bout that, but I do know my meemaw could make some fudge in her day, and I happen to have her recipe.” Mac finished drying a spoon and put it in its drawer.
“So tell us ’bout this date. You seein’ him again?”
“I have to. He won’t tell me about his past until our next date.”
“He has a past?” Lydia said.
“Don’t get worried. I don’t think it’s anything major, but, yeah, he’s hiding something. I tried twice to get him to tell me why he moved to this apartment, and he told me it was just for a change of scenery.”
“Maybe it was.”
“Mari, you’re a hopeless romantic.” Jane smiled. “He told me he’d spill on our second date. I assume he wouldn’t say that if there wasn’t something to spill.”
“So other than finding out he has a past, how was the date?”
“Mmmm.” Jane took another bite of Mac’s sweet dessert. “Let’s just say it was ten times better than this fudge.”
“Details, chica, we need details.”
Jane told them all about the smashing party and Jake’s near kisses.
“It sounds exciting. Why the ‘bad need’ for chocolate?” Lydia said.
“I ran into Bill on the way here.” Jane took another huge bite of fudge.
“Oh no. Was he with someone?”
“No, he was alone. But seeing him, well, I guess it was just unexpected.”
“Unexpected bad, though, right?”
“Not really, no. That’s what’s so confusing. I thought if I ever saw him again, I’d . . . I’d . . . I don’t know what I’d do. I never expected to see him again.”
“Then let’s pretend you never did.” Lydia took a drink of milk. “You’re on to bigger and better things with Jake. No sense in letting Bill put a wrench in a good thing you’ve got going, hmm?”
Jane thought about that for a second. “You know what?
You’re right. I’m being an idiot. Anybody would feel weird seeing their ex after a year, and the day after going on their first date, right?”
“Right.”
“Sí.”
Jane slapped the table and stood up. “Right. Then enough about that. I’ve got pictures to scrap and more ideas for Sisters, Ink. Mac, have we gotten any more members?” She walked around the table, Mari and Lydia following her to the stairs.
“Got us ten more yesterday. You been makin’ more calls and not tellin’ us?”
“Those weren’t me. I haven’t had time to do anything but think about ideas. I guess word’s getting around. What’d you find out about the music downloads?”
They made their way upstairs to the scrap room.
“We’ve gotta pay to put ’em on our site, but it’s not too much. I think we should put up three or four downloads and see if the current members like ’em before we go investin’ in a whole library of music, though.
“Good idea. How about a weddings download, an island one, and something for Christmas to start us off?”
“I like those.” Lydia unpacked her tote onto the scrapping table. “Some Natalie Cole or Celine Dion for the weddings, Kenny Chesney and Jimmy Buffett for the island stuff, and maybe Nat King Cole or Bing Crosby for Christmas?”
“Oooh! Good choices!”
“Can we put some Spanish music up, too?” Mari said. “I listen to English music most of the time, but it’d be nice to have something in my native language, I think.”
“That’s a fine idea.” Mac pulled a notepad out of a drawer. “You got some singers and songs I can look up on the Internet?”
“Sure.” She gave Mac the information.
“This’ll get us started. I should have it up by the end of next week, and then we can start trackin’ to see if the members use it.”
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for handling that, Mac.” Jane thumbed through a Stacy Julian book.
“My pleasure. Gives these old bones a reason to keep movin’.”
“So, I’ve got a cat to let out of the bag.” Lydia snipped off a piece of light blue ribbon as the Sisters looked at her. “Y’all know I don’t like sharing too much personal stuff, but since that’s what we’re about, I think I should tell you that I’ve ordered some orange lingerie.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, not for us. For me. For Dale.” Lydia swallowed and started over. “Dale’s been paying more attention to Sports-Center than me, so I thought I’d try something new.” She spoke the words in a rush. “I found a company that makes lingerie in team garb and ordered some in Tennessee Volunteers patterns. It should be here tomorrow.”
“Well, if that don’t beat all, I sure don’t know what does,” Mac said.
“You go, girl!” Jane came around the table and high-fived Lydia. “Now, I think it’s very important that we decide which of us will capture this moment on film for you.”
“You’re so funny.” Lydia smirked. “And so insane. This one will have to be burned on the film in my memory.”
“But, Lydia, I’m sure you’d agree a picture’s worth a thousand words.”
“Yep, and I’m not sure what this particular portrait would say, so no pictures.”
“I’m kidding. Let us know if it works, though, okay?”
Lydia nodded.
“Chicas, I’m not sure I can do this.” Mari spread her fingers across the layout in front of her and tried to figur
e out what to do. She had six pictures laid out.
“Here, this will help.” Jane slid her layout design book across the table and Mari picked it up. “It’s full of example layouts you can use in your own scrapbook. Just turn to the part that’s for however many pictures you have, and you’ll get some ideas for how to fit them all on a page.”
Mari flipped through the glossy pages of the book. “So I do exactly what’s in this book? Isn’t that cheating?”
Lydia laughed. “Honey, if that’s cheating, then I’m in serious trouble. I don’t know how in the world I’d get a layout done without using Stacy’s ideas.” She went back to cutting another piece of ribbon.
“And you don’t have to do exactly what’s in there,” Jane said. “You can just use it as a starting point and put your own embellishments so yours ends up looking a little different.”
“But some of the pictures in here are a whole lot bigger than my little four 4x6s.”
“No problem,” Mac said from her side of the table. “Just take your picture over there to the computer and scan it in. Then we’ll enlarge it and print out a bigger one for you.” She pulled up the end of a Clikit and let go to make a hole for a pink eyelet in the shape of a flower.
“What’s that thing you’re using?” Mari asked.
“It’s a Clikit.” Mac pulled on the edge of the tool again and let it snap back into place. It made a loud popping sound, and Mari blinked. “It puts a little hole right where I need it so’s I can set an eyelet there. When I’ve made the hole, I turn it to the other end and pop it down on the eyelet. That sets the eyelet in place.” She demonstrated, then held the paper out to show Mari the finished product.
“So what are the little hammers for?”
“That’s the old way of settin’ eyelets. We used to have to pound ’em in place. You shoulda heard it at convention. Hundreds of women poundin’ away on eyelets can give a body a deafenin’ headache. Now you just click it once. No poundin’ needed.” Mac clicked another hole in the paper and placed an eyelet in the spot. “I think it might be the best thing since sliced bread.”
Mari walked around to Mac’s side of the table and watched as Mac continued setting eyelets in intervals down the page. “Can I try?”
“Sure!” Mac slid off her stool and handed the tool to Mari, then walked her through using it. Mari clicked her first eyelet into place and ran her finger over the finished product.
“I’ve got to get one of these.” Awe filled Mari’s voice, and the other girls laughed.
“Spoken like a true Sister,” Lydia said.
Mari walked back over to her side of the table and looked again at her pictures. “I think I’m going to need a trip to the store before I can do much more with this scrapbook.”
“Did I just hear a need for shopping?” Jane looked up from her layout. “When do we go?”
“What about tomorrow?” Mac said.
“I was wondering if any of you had time to help me out tomorrow,” Mari said.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I’m going to get up in the attic and pull down Emmy’s old nursery furniture so I can set it up for Andrea. John will help me get the furniture down, but I want someone who can take some pictures so that I can scrapbook the move-in. Is that crazy?”
“Not at all,” Lydia said. “I can help out with that. Are you thinking around lunchtime?”
“Hmm, how about we grill burgers at my place for lunch?
We’ll eat and then get started on the nursery. If we finish in time, we can hit The Savvy Scrapper. Would that work?”
“I’m always in for a good scrapping moment followed by shopping,” Jane said.
“Yep, count me in,” Lydia said.
“I’ll have Baby Kesa tomorrow, but if I can bring her with me, I’ll come.”
“Of course, definitely bring Kesa. And Lydia, if you want to bring the twins, that’s fine, too. It would be a good thing for Emmy to interact with other kids at home. Thanks, y’all.”
As the women murmured their acknowledgment and continued cropping pictures and applying them to their layouts, Mari walked over to the wall, which was covered in Peg-Board with silver hooks. A package of rubber stamps hung from each hook. At the end of the wall were several shelves on which sat rubber stamps that were mounted on wood blocks. Some were for babies, others for birthdays, deaths, seasons, celebrations. Picking a stamp of a gift off the shelf, she turned it over in her hand. This was what Andrea would be to her family. A true gift.
She had no idea why she and John were having such troubles getting pregnant again. They’d had very little problem conceiving Emmy. She had thought she was perfectly fine and very fortunate to have one pregnancy and one child. Many of her friends had experienced multiple miscarriages, but not Mari. Her first pregnancy had resulted in a bouncing, laughing, beautiful little girl.
And then it was like the well had just dried up. Try as they might, nothing they did resulted in a pregnancy. She supposed she should be grateful for the inability to get pregnant. It was probably better than getting pregnant and then miscarrying, but still she wished the doctors could at least find out what was wrong. Why had they been able to have one child so easily and then nothing?
She also knew that other people wondered why she couldn’t just be happy with one. There were plenty of women who would give their right arms for the blessing of having just one child.
They told her she was getting greedy and to be content with her one healthy child.
But her dream had always been for two. She didn’t want Emmy to miss out on the fun of having an hermanita. The teasing and torture, the playing and laughter—she couldn’t imagine what kind of mother wouldn’t do everything possible to give that kind of childhood to her daughter.
She turned the stamp over again in her hand, running her thumb over the rubber image. Andrea would be a gift to all of them if they could ever get through the red tape required to get to her.
Staring at the stamp, Mari had a sudden inspiration. How about a cover page with this stamp in the middle and red tape tying it down to the page? It was the perfect illustration of their situation.
She took the stamp back over to the scrapping table, excited to have an idea that made sense. She could even do Andrea’s birth announcements with the same theme whenever they brought her home!
“I need some help.” The Sisters looked up at the excitement in her voice. “I want to do a page with this in the middle and somehow make it seem like the present is hard to get to because of red tape.”
“Red tape?” Mac said.
“Like all the red tape we have to get through to get to Andrea.”
“Oh! What a great idea!” Lydia slid off her stool and came over to Mari’s side of the table. “We can stamp this twice, one in black, the other in all different colors. We’ll put the black one behind the colored one and use a Pop Dot with the colored one to make it stand out. Put red ribbon running behind the whole thing, and it will look like the ribbon is running through the present!”
“I love that! I mean, I didn’t get it all, but it sounds great!” Mari said. “Where do I get ink pads?”
Mac pointed to a rotating tower of ink pads in the center of the table that was sitting by two other rotating tool holders. “Any color you want should be right there.” She began turning one of the other objects in circles. Mari thought it looked like her Tool Turnabout from Pampered Chef. “All the markers in here correspond to the same colors as the ink pads, so it’ll all match. You can stamp it in black and color it in with these markers.” She gestured toward shelves of paper in the corner of the room. “I’ve got every color in paper, too, so just help yourself.”
Mari turned and stared at it all in wonder, for the first time getting an inkling of how it all worked together. Her head spun with all of the possibilities. “I wanna be you when I grow up,” she breathed, and Mac cackled with laughter as they all turned back to their scrapbooks.
chapter 17
Jane could hear her phone’s trademark wildcat ringing as she neared her apartment door two hours later. She fumbled with the lock and made it to the phone as the answering machine clicked on.
“Hello?”
“Jane?”
“Bill?” Why is my ex calling me?
“Yes, it’s Bill.” Silence hummed across the line, and Jane began to worry.
“Is everything all right? Your parents? They’re okay?”
“Oh, yes, they’re fine. I’m sorry. Everyone’s fine. Seeing you today . . .” He cleared his throat. “Jane, can we talk?”
No, we can’t talk. I have a gorgeous neighbor, and life is looking up.
“What about?” She tossed her purse onto the kitchen table and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“I don’t know. I just feel like maybe we should talk. Things have changed in the past year. I’ve changed. I want you to know how sorry I am for what I did. I miss you. I miss us.”
Jane held the receiver out and stared at it for a second. Who was the apologetic guy on the other end? Not the man she married who ended up yelling at her for invading his online privacy.
“Jane? Are you there?”
She put the phone back to her ear. “I’m here, Bill. But I don’t think we have anything to say to each other. We’re divorced. I think at this point the script says to go our separate ways.”
“Since when do you do what you’re told?” She laughed. Like it or not, the man knew her. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, just talk. I’m so sorry for what I did, and I want you to know that.”
“I can know that by the fact that you just told me.”
“But I want to tell you in person.” He sighed. “I realize I have no right to even ask you to see me. Please. Give me five minutes to tell you a few things, and then I’ll leave you alone. Forever, if you’d like.”
Five minutes. Surely that isn’t asking too much after all we’ve shared.
“Okay, Bill. When?”
“Are you busy tonight? How about dinner at the Green Hills Grille?” My favorite restaurant for a dinner with my ex? No.
“I’m not sure dinner is appropriate. Let’s meet outside the