Kathy and Lisbet had attended each weekly gathering, even when it meant driving through a snowstorm. They each had their BB friends, but they didn’t match up.
Kathy always sat by Josh, a stay-at-home dad whose wife worked in the city, and Mariel, a woman close to Kathy’s age who watched her son’s baby. Lisbet, on the other hand, loved to play with Ava, a little girl whose mom was kind of a pain in the butt. That hadn’t rubbed off on Ava, though, and she and Lisbet would sit opposite each other and laugh until one of them fell over. That usually made the other one laugh harder, and then the fallen one would scramble to her feet and totter around, holding onto whatever she could grab until she inevitably fell again. It always amazed Casey at how bouncy babies were, often able to take a hard crash and shake it off without seeming to notice. Of course, other times a feather would brush by their skin and they’d lose it. You could never guess.
The group met at three and usually broke up around five, but Casey was never in a hurry to leave. She would have stayed out in the Pub and poured cider the entire night, given how much the parents loved it. When you felt you were making peoples’ lives better by doing something you enjoyed, why cut the experience short?
The usual crowd was all accounted for, but they also had one newcomer, a woman who seemed deeply shy. Her baby was only slightly more outgoing, but everyone went out of their way to welcome them.
Casey felt a draft and turned to see yet another woman tentatively enter. She didn’t have a kid with her, so Casey assumed she’d gotten lost. As she started to walk over to speak to her, she noticed the woman was pregnant. “Hi, there,” Casey said. “Are you looking for Baby Brewers?”
“Am I allowed in?” She patted her belly, which wasn’t very big. “I’m not due until June, but I’m trying to get ahead of this and find a support group before I need one.”
Casey stuck her hand out. “I’m Casey, and since I started the group, I can change the rules whenever I want. From here on in, we’re a group for prospective parents, and children under three. How’s that?”
“It’s great.” The woman put her hand out and they shook. “I’m Tara. Thanks for the welcome.”
Casey looked to her left to see Kathy approach. “Hi,” she said, sticking her hand out. “Kathy.”
“Tara’s looking for support,” Casey said as the women shook hands.
“I don’t know anyone who’s had a baby, so I need to find some people who don’t look at me like I’m crazy for doing this,” Tara said.
“Ooo, my daughter was the same,” Kathy said. She pointed at Lisbet, who was watching her like a hawk. “That’s her baby Lisbet, the one who’s trying to make sure I don’t run away.” She put her hand on Tara’s back and started to lead her over to the bar. “Let’s find you a place to sit. When I was pregnant, all I wanted was a chair.”
“It’s not too bad yet,” Tara said, “but I assume it’ll get worse.”
“That’s parenthood in a nutshell,” Kathy said. “At least that’s how it seems at first.”
***
Casey hadn’t been staying for dinner at the Nichols’ house unless someone specifically invited her. So Avery was a little surprised, yet pleased, to see her pull up to the house just a few seconds after her mom and Lisbet had.
It was cold out, but not brutal, so she went out without her jacket to help bring Lisbet inside. “What can I carry?” she asked.
Casey jumped out of her truck, loped over, and started to pull Lisbet’s car seat from its base. “Get inside! You’ll catch cold.”
Laughing to herself, Avery went back in, then held the door to let them all pass. “Are you two just back from your play date?”
“We are,” her mom said, starting to take her coat and gloves off. “We had a big crowd today. Seems like everyone is starting to lose their minds because of this endless winter.”
Casey worked on getting Lisbet’s snowsuit off, so Avery sat next to the baby and tried to distract her. It worked pretty well, and when she was finally out of her gear Avery picked her up and kissed her until she pulled away. “I’m going to kiss you and kiss you,” she growled. “I can’t get enough kisses from my baby girl.”
“Oh, Avery,” her mom said, “a girl showed up today, and her story just about broke my heart.”
“Tara?” Casey said, looking puzzled. “Her story broke your heart? I got the impression she knew exactly what she was getting into.”
“But she’s all alone…”
“Clue me in?” Avery said. She pulled Lisbet onto her lap and started to play her favorite game, the one where Avery bounced her vigorously on her knees.
“Tara’s young,” her mom stressed, “pregnant, and single. She doesn’t seem to have anyone she can rely on. Her parents live nearby, but they sound like awful people—”
“Oh, I don’t think they’re that bad,” Casey interrupted. “Well, they might be a little awful, but I got the impression they think she’s making a big mistake. Sounds like they want to make it clear they’re not going to support her if she gets in over her head.”
“By having a baby?” Avery asked.
“Uh-huh. Her parents aren’t crazy about her being gay, but her deciding to have a baby all on her own has driven them over the cliff. At least that’s the impression I got.”
“You two sure did learn a lot,” Avery said. “You sussed out her sexual orientation, her strained relationship with her family… What else?”
“She’s cute,” Kathy said. “Didn’t you think so, Casey?”
“Sure.” She brushed that off, and continued, “I’m not saying her parents are right, but I think she’s biting off an awful lot. She doesn’t have a single friend who’s had a baby yet, so she’s really playing it by ear.”
“Has she arranged for child care?”
“She doesn’t think she’ll need it,” Kathy said. “I tried to hint it might be tough to work full-time with an infant at home, but Tara’s one confident kid.”
“Kid? Is she a teenager?” Avery asked.
“No, no,” Casey said. “I asked. She’ll be twenty-five when she has the baby.”
“Mmm,” Avery said. “That’s a good age to have a baby, but not a great age to have much money saved.”
“She’s a computer programmer, or something like that,” Casey said. “She must do okay, since she has her own apartment.” She turned and asked, “Did you understand what she does, Kathy?”
“No idea. But whatever it is, it won’t be easy to do with an infant. I think Tara’s going to need some help. I just hope those stupid parents of hers come around.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
On a dreary spring Monday, Avery sent Casey a text.
Finished early
How does dinner in a real restaurant sound
My treat
She waited just a second for a reply.
I’d love to have dinner
Why should u pay?
Avery texted back.
It’s Landlord Day
I’m buying you dinner instead of a present
As usual, Casey replied quickly.
Don’t believe it, but I’ll play along to get a free meal
Send me details
***
They met by Casey’s uncle’s restaurant, but not because Avery wanted to eat there. While she’d enjoyed many good meals at Villa Napoli, she wanted to talk, and knew Casey’s uncle would interrupt them. You couldn’t have a meal there without him dropping by two or three times, often pulling up a chair to chat if the place wasn’t swamped. Actually, as outgoing and interactive as he was, it was hard to believe he was Casey’s mom’s brother.
It had been a while since Avery had seen Casey driving her truck, and she laughed at herself when she felt a chill the moment that blue behemoth pulled up behind her on the otherwise empty street. How had she ever convinced herself her main turn-ons were philosophical discussions? The first time a tall, broad-shouldered, dykie woman in a big truck showed up on her radar, she was lik
e a besotted teenager again.
Casey was out of her truck before Avery even had her seatbelt off. She smiled up at her as her door was opened. “Landlord Day, huh?” Casey asked, extending her hand to help Avery get to her feet.
“Well, technically, we didn’t celebrate your buying the house. So I guess this is a belated housewarming gift. But since you’re my landlord…”
“Any excuse works for me,” she said, smiling.
When she went over to the meter to see if they had to pay, Avery allowed herself the non-guilty pleasure of checking her out. Casey hadn’t known they were going out, so she was wearing her usual work clothes. This must not have been a brewing day, since she was pretty neat and clean.
Her usual jeans were topped by a Henley shirt, one Avery didn’t recall seeing before. She clearly liked not having a collar, and the khaki green color probably didn’t show dirt and dust. As she often did, she’d tucked the shirt in only to show off her belt buckle, leaving the rest of it hanging out. It was a cool little affect, and when Casey returned Avery noticed the buckle was different. “Where’s your Kaaterskill belt?”
She looked down, probably having forgotten what she was wearing. “Oh. A sales rep from one the places I buy yeast from gave me this.” She tilted it so Avery could see.
“Brewmaster,” she said aloud. “Not too cool.”
“Well,” she said, showing a sly smile. “I like to remind my guys I’m in charge.”
“I can’t imagine they ever doubt that,” she said, earning a raised eyebrow from Casey. “Are you disputing my guess?”
“Nope,” she said, smugly, sticking her thumbs into her front pockets. “Where are we going?”
“Have you been to the Neapolitan pizza place?”
“Just once. It was good…”
“But?”
Her smile made her look a little abashed. “It was full of city people.”
Avery reached over to pat her cheek. “Well, you’re with a city person tonight. Was the pizza good?”
“Excellent. But I was on a date, and it almost killed me to pay seventy dollars for two pizzas and a few beers.”
“Well, I’m in the mood for a good Margherita, and I don’t have a wood-fired oven. Damn the expense.”
“Why’d we park down here?”
“Because I knew we’d be able to find spots close to each other. This end of the street doesn’t get much business this early in the evening, and I didn’t want to have to look for you.”
They had about three blocks to cover, and as they walked, Avery said, “Remember what this street was like when we were kids?”
“It was like that,” she said, pointing at one of the businesses remaining from their youth. The old-school barbershop looked like it hadn’t been altered since the fifties, with poor signage, faded posters showing various haircut styles, and a seriously old barber sitting in one of the chairs, reading a magazine.
“Exactly. If I’d known this was going to turn into a Hipster hotspot, I might not have been in such a hurry to leave.”
“But you’re back. At least for the time being. You know, you might be the only person in town who grew up here, left for the city, and came back.”
“I’m not the only one,” Avery said, watching Casey’s face for a reaction when she finished her sentence. “Janelle Perkins is back in town.”
You didn’t need Sherlock Holmes’s observational powers to see the news didn’t make her day. “Huh. Where’s she living? I’ll make a point to stay out of that part of town.”
“Same house she grew up in. She’s living with her parents, along with her three-year-old.”
“Yeah, well, I never went to her house. Not surprisingly.”
Avery didn’t think this was the time to reveal Janelle lived just two blocks from the Nichols house. Given the expression on Casey’s face, it had been a bad idea to bring her up before they got to the restaurant. Avery had wanted to slide into the subject when they had time to dig into it, but she’d kind of dropped the fact that the class bully was back in town right on her head.
Casey didn’t ask a single question, and they finished their walk in silence. She held the door when they reached the restaurant, but her smile was very dim. But she put on the charm without hesitation when she approached the woman at the reception desk. “Hi there,” she said, standing closer than was strictly needed, getting about the distance you’d allow for a friend. “Is there any way you can you fit us in for dinner? I know you’re slammed…”
The place was completely empty, and the woman gave Casey a wry smile. “I think I can find a spot for you. Would you like to be in the back by the fire, or have a view of the street?”
“Fire,” Casey said, then she turned to raise an eyebrow.
“Fire,” Avery agreed. “I’m still chilly, since I’m a normal human who gets cold.”
That merited a warmer smile. “I get cold too. Just not when it’s nearly sixty degrees.”
“Don’t jinx us,” the woman said. “I’ve finally taken my mittens out of the car and put them away for the winter.”
“You’re safe,” Casey said as she pulled out a chair for Avery. After pushing it closer to the table, she moved to sit across from her, then looked up at the host and added, “If it gets cold enough for mittens, I’ll give you twenty bucks.”
“You’re on.” Amazingly, the woman popped her on the head with the menus, then placed them on the table. “Your server is Sarah. She’ll be right by.”
“Thanks,” Casey said, waving as the woman turned to go back to her post.
“I didn’t realize you were so friendly to strangers,” Avery said, struggling for a second with her jacket. Casey reached over and tugged on the sleeve, easily sliding it off.
“Sorry I didn’t introduce you,” she said, looking a little sheepish. “That kid was a server at my uncle’s one summer, but I couldn’t remember her name.”
Avery started to laugh. “Living in a small town can motivate you to make sure you don’t look like hell before you leave the house, can’t it?”
“Maybe you,” she said, taking another look down at herself. “I might have shown up looking like a wet dog, depending on what we’d been up to today. Luckily, I was mostly in my office.”
Their server approached, and after Casey grilled her on their beers, they each had a pint in front of them. Casey picked up her glass and tapped it against Avery’s. “To landlords,” she said, then took a sip. “Not bad. A little heavy on the coriander, but I think it’ll cut through the creaminess of the ricotta cheese.”
“What am I drinking? I spaced out when you were trying to make our server into a beer expert.”
“You were on your phone,” Casey pointed out. “And if you don’t put it away, I’m taking off for your mom’s. She interacts.”
“Just texting her to make sure Lisbet’s not upset that neither of us are over there.” She picked up the device and showed that she was putting it in her purse.
“You’re drinking a pale ale. I would have chosen an unfiltered one, since I think you can use a little added kick with a Margherita, but they don’t have one on tap.” She picked up Avery’s glass and took a sip. “That’s good. You’ll be happy with it.”
“I’m happy with just about anything. I’m still only having about one a week, so each one feels like a special occasion.”
After taking a hearty sip of her own beer, Casey’s expression turned sober. “Did you just run into Janelle? Or are you…” She took in a breath and tried again. “Are you hanging out again?”
“We’re not going to strike up a friendship,” Avery said. “But I did reach out to her when my mom told me she’d seen her at the grocery store.”
Casey didn’t reply verbally, but Avery could see that she had something to say. She was probably holding her tongue to see where this was going.
“She’s having a tough time,” Avery said. “Graduating summa from Yale and getting a law degree from Harvard is not a guarantee of success.”
A dark eyebrow rose again, but Casey was really holding onto her words tonight.
Deciding to spit it all out, Avery said, “I called her, and we had coffee on Saturday. She’s really fucked things up, quitting her job with a big New York firm when she had her baby, then finding out her husband had been embezzling from the corporation he worked for. He was the head of the auditing department, by the way.”
Avery thought the extended sip of beer Casey took might have been an attempt to hide a smile, but she didn’t comment on that.
“I called her because I was thinking of how much I’ve changed over the years, and I thought maybe she had, too, you know?”
Casey shook her head slowly. “Mean kid, mean adult.”
Avery laughed softly at what was obviously a deeply held belief. Pithy, but deeply held. “I’m not sure that’s always true, but I think it is with Janelle.” She remembered a detail and started to get hot under the collar just thinking about it. “She’s determined to get her old life back, you know. She swears she’s not going to become a hickster.”
“Hickster?”
“That’s what she calls people from Brooklyn who move up here. I was incensed!”
“I’d rather be a hick than a jerk,” Casey said, clearly not sharing all of Avery’s sensitivities.
“We were only at coffee for an hour, but I was glad when Lisbet got sick of hanging around and started to make a fuss.”
“The bad vibes were probably freaking her out,” she said, clearly realizing she didn’t have to be polite. “I’d ask a question or two, but I honestly don’t care enough about that woman to get any satisfaction from hearing about her string of bad luck.” Her expression changed slightly, and she added, “I am sorry she had a kid, though. I wish all jerks were infertile.”
“I hate to wish infertility on anyone, but I can’t argue with your point. If assholes didn’t have kids, the world would be immeasurably improved.”
Their pizzas arrived, and they each spent a minute getting their first pieces into their mouths. “So good!” Avery said. “I’ve never made a Neapolitan pizza, but I could learn how. You’re going to have to put a brick oven in my house.”
Friday Night Flights Page 38