I looked up to see a strange kind of sadness in her eyes, but she just kept stroking my hair. And it occurred to me that, as was abundantly clear from the woman sitting beside me, you didn’t need to have a baby to be a mother.
diana: the one who got away
“You did it! I can tell!” Cheyenne was hollering, all of us sitting around the dining table in the guesthouse I’d finally gotten around to telling the girls about.
Robin nodded, her motorcycle jacket hanging over the back of the chair. “I knew it. I knew the minute I saw him that you was getting back together.”
Cheyenne paused. “But don’t let this get you off track from our boat restaurant.”
I smiled just thinking about it. I had saved up enough money already for the first three months of slip rent. I needed enough for a used commercial stove and refrigerator and starting supplies, but if I didn’t spend hardly a cent between now and Labor Day when Gray went back to Raleigh, I could probably swing it. Just barely. September wouldn’t be the best time to open a restaurant at the beach, but it would give me a few months to get my feet wet before May rolled around and things got busy. “Don’t you worry about that, Chey. I’ve been dreaming about my restaurant even longer than I’ve been dreaming about Frank.”
Janet was leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over the muffin top rolling over the band of her jeans. I’d told her a hundred times if she would just wear jeans one size bigger, she wouldn’t have all that mess hanging out. But did she listen? Nope.
She scowled. And I guessed she had every right to.
I was trying to pry the smile off my face. The Frank-induced, bathing-in-love-and-relief-and-memories smile. But, oh, hard as I tried, I just couldn’t. Every time I got it off, it popped right on back up. But the absolute, pure joy alternated with hot, raging panic. I wasn’t the kind of girl who got happy endings. Was it even possible that this could all work out for me now?
“What’s up your craw?” Robin asked Janet.
She shook her head, that mean look still on her face. “Ain’t nothing up my craw, Robin. I just don’t know why we gotta be all excited and in love with Frank again. Frank. Am I the only one who remembers? I don’t remember Frank being there. I don’t remember him getting you hot water bottles or holding your hand or sleeping with you so you didn’t wake up scared in the night.” She shifted in her chair like she was done talking. But then she kept right on. “Was Frank there when you got that fever and was talking outta your head not making a lick o’ sense? Was Frank there in the emergency room with all those tubes and IVs and antibiotics? ’Cause it seems to me like he wasn’t around for none o’ that. Seems like it was me. And Robin. And Cheyenne. So I’m sorry, Robin. Maybe that’s what’s up my craw.”
We were all kind of stunned, but I don’t know why. Janet always said whatever she thought right out. She just laid it out on the table, and if you didn’t pick it up, then that was your own damn problem.
And I hated that she was right. I thought of Frank’s face in the morning light, the way he whispered in my ear, the way he held me all night long, the way he took his time, memorizing every inch of me. I wanted it to be enough, but Janet wasn’t wrong. Frank hadn’t been there. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change that.
“Now look what you done,” Cheyenne said. “I hadn’t seen a smile like that on that girl’s face in twenty-two years, and you wiped it right off.”
Janet shook her head. “Fine. She can do whatever the hell she wants. I’m just reminding her how it all went down. That’s all. And if she wants to do it anyway, then fine.” Janet’s scowl finally broke as she said, “I’ll even wear one-a them hideous green bridesmaids’ dresses with the puffy sleeves.”
We all got a good laugh for a minute. When we stopped, I went to the fridge to get us a round of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. People can say what they want. They can make jokes and make fun. But, hear this: there’s nothing like a hard lemonade to quench your thirst on a hot day. Nothing.
I was handing them out when I heard footsteps and, “Hey, Lady Di, I’m going to—”
Gray stopped right in her tracks when she saw the girls sitting around the table.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know you had company. I’ll just be…” She pointed toward the door.
“Don’t be crazy,” Cheyenne said in that high, peppy voice of hers. “You come sit that bony fanny down right now and have a lemonade with us.”
Gray looked at me, and I smiled. “Oh yeah. These girls won’t bite.” Then I eyed Janet and pointed my bottle toward Cheyenne and Robin and said, “Well, these two won’t.”
Gray made a face like she was scared and sat down snuggling up close to me, far away from Janet.
Ten hard lemonades later we were laughing and carrying on like I don’t know what. We’d covered high school memories and hairdos, prom dates and birthing babies. But we’d skipped clear over Frank.
The laughter died down and Robin said, “So, for real, Di, what are you gonna do about Frank?”
Gray leaned away and made a face like she was amused and impressed. “Ah yes. The one who got away and came back. Do tell.”
I shook my head and stood up, clearing the empty bottles. “No way. It’s time to call it a…” I was going to say night, but, though our alcohol consumption would indicate otherwise, it was broad daylight. So I said, “…an afternoon.”
“Frank,” Cheyenne whispered to Gray as if I couldn’t hear, “is the love of Diana’s life.”
“And he wants this one some sorta bad,” Robin added.
Gray squealed and rubbed her hands together in delight. “Oh my goodness. So has there been a romantic reunion?”
“You’d know all about those, wouldn’t you, Miss Gray?”
I was trying to change the subject, but she saw right through me. “What I have going on is a rebound, a summer fling. Yours is real love coming back to the light.”
All of a sudden, I could hear, “Gray, where the hell are you?”
She opened the window and said, “Up here, Marce! We’re talking all about Diana’s hot rekindling with an old flame.”
“Yesssss!” I heard Marcy say as she ran up the steps.
“We’re talking about it up here so that no one can hear us,” I said.
“Ohhhh,” Gray whispered. “Sorry.”
“Look,” I said, “I’m down to my last six-pack of Mike’s, so take it easy here.”
Marcy was out of breath as she plopped down on the floor by the table. “Do tell,” she said, taking a sip from the bottle I handed her. She looked at me confidentially. “I am a therapist, after all.”
“Yeah,” Janet said, “that’s exactly who you need. She’ll be on my side for sure.”
I don’t know if it was the drinks or the girls or what, but even though I wanted to resist telling the whole messy story to my employer, they wouldn’t let me. She got all teared-up and hugged me and said she was so sorry. And it ended up all right. We tossed it all around, but, in the end, Marcy was judge and jury.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But, one, it’s not fair to judge someone for something he did twenty-two years ago. Two, it’s not fair to punish him for not acting the right way in a situation he knew nothing about. Three, he sounds so sweet, and if it doesn’t work out, you had a good time this summer.”
She stood up, took a little bow, and said, “Therapist out,” as Cheyenne, Gray, and Robin clapped and Janet booed.
I hated being vulnerable. I hated letting my insecurity show. But I had to get it out. “What if he can’t stand up for me and his momma wins again? What if he leaves me?”
It was Gray who took my hand. “Di, if you honestly don’t think this is a good fit, then don’t do it. Walk away. But if you want to give this thing a try, give it a try. Don’t let fear hold you back.” She smiled reassuringly at me. “If you try it and he breaks your heart, guess what?”
“What?”
“You still have all of us.”
&
nbsp; I bit my lip to keep the tears away. It was like a light bulb went off. Yeah. Things went bad—all the time. I’d always been okay. I’d be okay again. And I had these ladies to pick me back up if I fell. “You’re right. I can spend my life wondering or I can spend my life living.”
“Fine,” Janet said. “You win. Give him another chance. But you be damn careful.”
Gray lifted her bottle with the last sip toward me and said, “Sounds to me, honey, like there’s only one thing left to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Go and get your man.”
CHAPTER 13
gray: the winner
“Remember that picture of Brooke with her in that sombrero drinking the fishbowl margarita?” I asked Marcy as we lay in the front yard, waiting for our lemonades to wear off so we could go paddleboarding.
She cracked up. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I mean, Greg is a total tool, but that is, like, seriously the worst.” She sat up all of a sudden and said, “Hey, where’s hottie with a body?”
“He had clinics this morning and then he’s coming over.”
Marcy leaned over me, her nose mere inches from mine. “Are you going to marry him?” she whispered. “I mean, seriously. Y’all are like all in love. If you get married for the second time before I get married for the first, I’m going to be super pissed.”
“Marcy, you’re making me jealous,” I heard from behind me.
We all started cracking up as Andrew made his way toward where we were lying.
“Oh, oh, oh, it’s my little stud muffin. I have miiiisssed you.” I sat up and planted a big, wet kiss on him.
He backed away and made a face. “Babe, what have you been drinking?”
“Mike’s Hard Lemonade,” Marcy said through her giggles.
I pointed toward the guesthouse. “With Diana and her friends who have tolerances much, much greater than mine.”
He nodded. “I can see that.”
“Wait. Are you mad?”
“No!” He laughed. “In fact, I’m relieved. It’s going to make you a lot easier to sway.”
“Do I need to leave for this?” Marcy said, lying back down. “I mean, I’m not going to. But if I’m not supposed to be here, I’ll try harder not to say stuff.”
Andrew laughed. “It’s fine. I might want you on my side.” He took a deep breath. “Gray. I want you to come out with me on a proper date to a proper place, in public, where you will probably see people you know.”
“No.”
He laughed. “What? Why not? It’s been weeks, and I’m ready to take this thing out on the open road.”
Marcy started laughing.
“We can’t be frolicking around town together,” I said lazily, feeling myself starting to get tired.
He sighed. “So, what then? Am I supposed to sneak around in the shadows with you forever—well, I mean, forever until I go back to grad school in the fall? Is that the deal?”
I leaned forward and tried to charm my way out of the situation. “I kind of like sneaking around in the shadows with you.”
He backed away. “I’m serious, Gray. Can’t I at least meet your friends? I know they all know about me.” He gave me that boyish grin that I found irresistible. I bet his mom never punished him. That thought horrified me. His poor mother. She would just die if she knew he was dating a thirty-four-year-old woman. It was probably a good thing that my mother was dead because she would have killed me. My resolve was strengthened.
Marcy interjected, “You know me. I’m the only friend who matters.”
I pointed at Marcy and made a triumphant face. “See?”
But then he said, his irritation rising, “Are you embarrassed by me?”
Was I embarrassed by him? I looked him over, closed one eye, looked him over again. Nope. Not one single bit of that adorableness was embarrassing.
I scooted in closer to him. “Sweetheart, I am not even close to embarrassed by you. You are a prize if ever there was one.”
“Then what’s the big deal?”
Marcy raised her eyebrows at me and mouthed, You’re going to marry him.
“Look. I’m embarrassed of myself. I’m way too old to be gallivanting around with you when I have an eight-year-old and am in the middle of a divorce.”
“I’m the one who pursued you and wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Andrew said.
I sighed. “Andrew, come on, this has to stop.” But I think we both knew I had no intention of stopping anything.
“Why would we stop something so amazing?”
“Because it’s a fun summer fling, but we’ve taken it too far.”
He lifted his head from my shoulder. “I’m ready to not say that anymore. I don’t want to hear it again.” He paused. “It is going to be my birthday. I want to go out with you in public. Those are my terms.”
I was about to say no, but he was serious. No Andrew coming over to keep me company when Wagner was gone.… No one making me laugh, wrapping his arms around my waist, telling me I was beautiful.… I wasn’t ready for this bright spot to be over.
I smiled. “Okay. I agree to your terms.” I shook his hand with my left one because it was easier to move, my bangles tinkling as our arms moved up and down.
“Yay!” Marcy cheered.
“But we are not telling Wagner.”
Andrew nodded.
“So, what did you have in mind there, soldier of love?” Marcy asked Andrew.
“Oh, I have something in mind that would be perfect,” I said.
“What’s that?” Marcy asked.
“Hospital. Foundation.”
We both laughed because we knew, without further explanation, that those two words translated to: Beating. Greg.
Andrew kissed me, and I felt like, out in public, in private, wherever he wanted me to be, I was the winner here no matter what.
diana: settled
Of all the photos I ever developed, the wedding ones were my favorites. The laughing, the kissing, the kids all gathered around the bride in their Sunday best. Every last one of those photos reminded me of Frank. In every Costa Rican sunset, there’d be his head and mine; in every hand-holding, before-the-priest moment, it was me and Frank.
Only it wasn’t me and Frank, because we’d ruined that good a long time ago. He’d been texting me since that afternoon he left. I hadn’t responded, not even one time, because I wasn’t real sure what I wanted to do. But the girls, they got me thinking: here’s a man I’d been holding on to in my heart for more than two decades, and this was my chance to see if all that had been worth it. I tried telling myself that it didn’t matter if we ended up in those wedding photos. We just needed to see if, all these years later, it would work out in any form.
My old Impala was spitting down the road, and I started having some second thoughts. Frank had been the light I’d carried inside of me all these years, the person who, through it all, I believed was the one. If we did get back together and it didn’t work out, I wouldn’t have anything to hold on to anymore, nothing to get me through the dark days and nights when life feels like being too alone to even take.
My stomach was churning; I was exhausted from being up these past few nights trying to figure what was the right thing. I pulled into Meds and More where I used to work, and next thing I knew Mr. Joe was right there beside me, hugging my neck in the Tums aisle.
“We sure do miss you ’round here,” he said, little wet eyes shining.
“I sure miss y’all too,” I lied. Well, I mean, it wasn’t really a lie. I did miss the people.
“I begged Bill to bring you back in. I overheard him telling this lady that comes in here all the time that he fired you on account of some cropping not being right and a lot of problems with the photos. But I told him that wasn’t on account of you not being good at your job. That was on account of the machine and—”
I put my hand up to stop him, my mind racing. “Wait. So you mean Mr. Marcus told her it wasn’t her fault I g
ot fired?”
Mr. Joe, he looked kinda confused. “Well, I…” he stammered. Then he shrugged, all red-faced. “I don’t really remember, Di. I didn’t realize it was important.”
I felt glued to my spot, my heart racing, but I couldn’t tell exactly what I was feeling right yet. “Gray Howard? Eight-year-old son?”
He nodded. “Yup. That’s the one.”
I didn’t say anything, caught somewhere between super pissed off and washed over with love. I didn’t need Gray’s charity, I huffed on the inside. But, really, that little voice said, I kind of did, didn’t I? Was she trying to patronize me? Hiring me like that and telling me that she got me fired? And all this time, had she really known? Was she waiting to confront me about it? Did she know I had lied to her? Mr. Joe, he was chattering on and on and on, and I couldn’t even hear him, all in my head like I was. I couldn’t hear him, that is, until he said, red as I’ve ever seen a man, “I sure would like to take you out to dinner sometime.”
Oh no.… Was he asking me on a date? Sweet Mr. Joe. I looked down at myself. If a man asks you out when you’re wearing a stained, ripped Big Rock Fishing Tournament shirt from fifteen years ago, he really likes you. Gary, the owner of this shirt, had been the mate on the boat that won the Big Rock in 2005. He got $50,000 of the $1 million prize and went on a month-long bender in Vegas. Blew through every cent of that money and then came crawling back to me. Needless to say, I did not answer the door.
It was right about the time Mr. Joe asked me out that I decided to look at the bright side and assume that Gray had given me the job because she needed me and she was a nice girl. No harm, no foul. Just a little white lie. Lord knows I’ve told my share. And it was also right about that time, when I heard myself say, “Oh, Mr. Joe, that sure is nice, but I’m seeing someone,” that I made up my mind about Frank too.
I put the Tums back, deciding I didn’t need them, seeing as how me settling everything had settled my stomach.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I knew I had to go talk to my brother. Instead of heading to Frank’s, like I thought I was going to, I went to Cape Nursing. Phillip was really lucky because he didn’t have a roommate right now. The girls at the home had moved the other bed out of his room, and I’d put in two chairs I’d found on the side of the road in Gray’s neighborhood—I checked them for bedbugs before I took them—and I’d picked some flowers from Gray’s yard and put them in a mason jar on the windowsill. The carpet was still old and stained and dirty, and the window unit was still real loud, but it made it look a little better in there.
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