Even as they were heading in opposite directions, she still had needs. If he was willing to fill them, then why shouldn’t she let him? It wasn’t meaningless sex, but the fantasy about it lasting forever had ebbed. As long as they both took comfort in each other’s arms the arrangement worked—at least until one of them found someone more desirable and broke it off.
Alexa pulled up the calendar app and noted the visit on July 2.
The Fourth was a Friday this year. Maybe they’d close the office for a long weekend. Hopefully everything would go well. But she wasn’t counting on it.
As if she’d read Alexa’s mind, a text rolled in from Sari: Looking forward to our trip. We won’t get under your skin.
But she was already under Alexa’s skin. She hadn’t seen her mother in years and now this Rob Porterfield character would be underfoot. He looked like a biker dude with slicked back hair and dark, squinty eyes. What Sari did with him was her business, but Alexa didn’t plan to leave him alone with Hannah, not for a second. As if to underscore the point, a sudden thunderclap shook the stucco dwelling and the lights flickered. A brilliant flash of lightning splintered through the blinds, followed by another ominous rumble. The deluge began, pounding the roof with the intensity of a monsoon. She sent an email to Sari.
Crappy time of year to come visit, hot & humid with rain every day. Bring umbrellas.
A reply bounced back almost instantly.
Hot & dry here, looking for a change. Can’t wait to see you and Hannah.
“I’m going to check on Zelda. See if she’s okay.”
“Knock yourself out,” said Hannah, flipping through the TV channels.
“Why don’t you read a book?” asked Alexa.
“No thanks.”
“Will you read mine when it’s published?”
“Will you autograph it to me?”
“Of course sweetie, it would be my pleasure.”
“Thanks, but I doubt it.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Anytime.”
Alexa scurried in the rain to Zelda’s, knocked, and walked in.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
“Sorry, I’ve been a bad neighbor. I’m distracted. My mom’s coming, bringing a friend.”
“I know all about it, I get the lowdown from your delicious daughter.”
“Sometimes she gets under my skin.”
“Your mother?”
“Yes, and Hannah too.”
“Let me tell you a story.” Zelda patted the couch. “Sit.”
Alexa walked to the kitchen and brought back two glasses of water. She put them on the coffee table and sat down. Zelda muted the TV.
“My friend Ruth Adelman invited me over for dinner the other night.”
“Is that the one you stayed with at Christmas?”
“Yes, that one. The night I met Travis. The night she fell and conked her head.”
Alexa wanted to talk about Luke or Sari and how her insides were tied in a knot and she’d developed a case of severe constipation. She crossed her slender legs and sat back. She didn’t want to hear about Ruth Adelman, but she said, “Okay, I’m listening.”
Zelda took a sip of water and began sputtering, pointing to something brown on the floor. “It’s a palmetto bug,” she shouted, her voice rising in volume and intensity. “Hell’s bells, I hate those things! Get it. Kill it. Please!”
Palmetto bugs looked like cockroaches on steroids—the Incredible Hulk of nasty brown insects—two inches long with wings, antennae, and six hairy legs. Alexa had seen only one and never wanted to see another. Gingerly, she skirted around it and hurried to the kitchen for a roll of paper towels and the spray bottle of Clorox as Zelda, working her way into a full-blown conniption, pointed to a spot near the leg of the coffee table. “There, I’m going to gag.”
Alexa aimed the bottle over it and sprayed. The brown thing didn’t move. Leaning in closer she cocked her head to the side, bent down, and picked it up.
“Don’t touch it. They’re walking bacteria factories. You can get all kinds of diseases.”
“From an Oreo?”
“An Oreo?” Zelda leaned back, smiling sheepishly. “I think I wet my pants a little.”
“That makes two of us.” Alexa put the spray bottle back on the counter and the faux roach in the trash. “Now what about Ruth?”
“So Ruth’s adult daughter, Danielle—we call her Danny for short—is recently divorced. Her ex-husband is a fancy schmancy New York lawyer. Of course he worked the judge over like a massage therapist and got a happy ending. He took everything and left her with nothing so Danny’s moving back in with her mom at the age of fifty-four. She says it’s only for a little while, but who knows?”
“Oh boy.”
“You can say that again. Ruth is very set in her ways, very particular about everything, very ultra conservative, very uptight. She lives in Century Village and it’s a huge step down for Danny. I mean, she lived in a Manhattan penthouse and now she’s here, in the land of the dinosaurs.”
“It’s not permanent, is it?”
“Not forever. But the question is who’ll get murdered first?”
“Isn’t that harsh?”
“Not really. Ruth is hard of hearing and doesn’t sleep with her hearing aids in. One night the old goat she dates, I call him Stu-rat, was coming over for some nookie.”
Alexa’s face betrayed her thoughts.
“I know. I know. And you should see him. He’s like a walking barnacle. But anyway, he lost his key and was banging on the door. When she didn’t answer, he called 911. They broke down the door. All the noise woke Ruth up and she called 911 too. It’s like everyone lost their marbles and went insane at the same time. There were six emergency vehicles. A few neighbors had heart attacks thinking it was a terrorist attack.”
“That’s nuts.”
“It’s not the end of the story. The new door cost her a thousand dollars to fix because she had to comply with the condo board’s code. Of course, Stu-rat wouldn’t put in a dime. He said it was her fault for not answering. And yet she still goes out with the schmuck.”
Alexa grinned. Somehow she had to use Zelda as a character in her book for comic relief. Maybe call her Betty and weave her stories into the novel. Amid all the drama, it would add a slice of levity. “So what about Danny?”
“Okay, so Danny didn’t want the dinky twin bed in the second bedroom, like the one I have. She wants a king-sized. It’s what she’s used to sleeping on, like they could even fit one of those monsters into that small condo. So they got into a blow-out shouting match you could hear all the way to the clubhouse.”
“You’re staying out of the drama I hope.”
Zelda shook her head, snowy hair bouncing. “Nope, they dragged me right into it. I only went to dinner over at the nut farm because Ruth promised to make her famous lasagna, even though the ricotta gives me terrible gas. I was afraid I’d stink up the Uber. It was murder holding those farts in. Talking about murder, I thought Ruth was going to pull out a meat cleaver when Danny told her she was painting the bedroom slate gray.”
“Gray?”
“It’s the new beige. That’s what Danny told me. Ruth pitched a fit. She stood in the kitchen holding that thing and I felt like I was on the set of a slasher movie. Then Danny says, ‘Don’t push me, Mom, or I’ll stick you in a nursing home and you’ll never see this place again.’ It was ugly. U-G-L-Y.”
“Can I use that in my book?”
Zelda smiled. “Do whatever makes you happy and be glad your mom’s only staying a few days and not moving in. Count your blessings.”
“I do.” Alexa smiled and stood up. “I hope you make it to the big one-double-zero.”
“I’m not sure I want that. Travis might ditch me for a younger, sleeker model.”
Zelda’s cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright as she talked about her boy toy. “His teeth are so white he could be a toothpaste model. I can see how je
alous people are when we’re out together. But his grandma called me a cradle robber. Can you imagine?”
Alexa could. She walked to the door and put her hand on the knob, itching to ask about Luke. As though reading her mind, Zelda said, “Luke’s out of town you know.”
“Actually, I just found out from Hannah.”
“It’s part of his five-year plan.”
“Excuse me? A five-year what?”
“Maybe I should let him explain.”
“Just the short version.”
So Zelda told Alexa about Luke’s burning ambition to head the tech company and become a millionaire, how he planned to date someone, propose and move in together while designing a blowout wedding. This was all news to Alexa and she had the sinking feeling that she was not part of his elaborate scheme. He would have mentioned it, wouldn’t he? Although they’d grown apart, a small piece of her still clung to the hope they could trudge through the tangled seaweed of their romance to find the sweet spot where the brilliant blue ocean meets the pearl white shore. Now it seemed he’d be lying on that beach with someone else. The news hit her hard, as though someone had pricked her heart with a knitting needle.
In so many of the books she edited, authors talked about creating one’s own reality. But what, exactly, did that mean in terms of her future with Luke? Did it mean they had no future or was she still part of his five-year plan? Had she been kicked to the curb? How did she find out without confronting him and if that was the case, where did she go from here? What was her new reality? Did she have to start from scratch or would the new man in her life magically fall from the sky?
“Are you okay?” asked Zelda. Her words filtered through a thick haze of deep reflection.
“Sure, great.” It was a lie of grotesque proportions. Alexa smiled and waved goodnight. Stepping out into the cool wet night and sucking down a lungful of sweet smelling moist air, she wondered how the drama would play out.
She didn’t have long to wait.
CHAPTER 60
A CYCLONE of emotions kept Sari in turmoil as the jet cruised effortlessly through the clouds over the ever-changing Mississippi River and down toward New Orleans.
She clutched Rob’s hand. He winced. A new scar was just scabbing over, the result of a sudden slip of the whittling knife. His latest masterpiece, a heartfelt gift for Alexa and Hannah, had been shipped ahead to the hotel in Florida. Sari intended to pull a rabbit from the hat and pass off the magic sleight of hand as reality. But truth is not an optical illusion. The emotional damage might be irreversible, and as they changed planes for the last leg of their journey, her resolve began to crumble. Hopefully, Alexa would accept the facts as presented, but Sari wasn’t placing any bets. No matter how she dealt the cards, none of them would be left unscathed. There would be no winners and no losers. They were simply getting new hands to play.
An hour after boarding, the wheels of the jet burned rubber on the dry tarmac in Fort Lauderdale and they taxied to the terminal.
Although Alexa had forewarned them about the hot, steamy weather, they were ill-prepared for the suffocating humidity. Sari quickly shed her sweater and long-sleeved shirt, her breasts spilling from the sides of her flimsy tank top. The jeans that felt so comfortable in Sedona now made her legs impossibly hot. Sweat beaded on Rob’s neck, sliding under his collar.
“If this is paradise, why does it feel like hell?”
He flagged down the Hertz shuttle bus while trying not to breathe the toxic exhaust fumes. Sari pulled out her phone, took it off airplane mode, and texted that they’d arrived safely.
The plan was to enjoy the long July Fourth weekend with Alexa and Hannah before heading back to Sedona. Although she wanted to believe everything would work out for the best, Sari was a realist. A bumpy road lay ahead.
On Wednesday evening, all four players in the complex melodrama assembled in the lobby of the Hilton Double Tree, a massive sand-colored hotel only a few minutes from Alexa’s apartment. Sari wore white capris, a loose peasant blouse, and flats. As usual, Rob had on black cowboy boots and a dark T-shirt, appearing wildly out of place in an ocean of tropical colors and rubber flip-flops.
Hannah breezed through the front door, raced up to Sari, and stopped short. She grinned and then flung her arms around her grandmother’s waist, squeezing fiercely. Sari kissed her grand-daughter’s cheek, gazing at her dotingly. “Let me take a look at you, honey.” She drank Hannah in like a thirsty traveler. “You’re almost as tall as I am. If we weren’t Facebook friends I wouldn’t have recognized you.”
The teen, in frayed denim cutoffs, pink crop top and cork wedge sandals, was only a few inches shorter. “I’d know you anywhere, Grandma Sari. You’re hard to miss.” Hannah touched Sari’s silky blond-white hair as Alexa felt a pang of envy.
Hannah asked, “Doesn’t Grandma look great?”
Alexa stepped forward and kissed her mother perfunctorily on the cheek. She held up the crystal bracelet. “Thanks, I love it.”
Hannah pointed to the turquoise studs that had arrived a few weeks earlier, along with the bracelet.
“You look fantastic, Mom,” said Alexa. “The change has been good for you.”
Sari pulled Rob forward. They were a study in opposites. He was dark with brooding eyes and coiled energy. She was a ray of light with ocean-blue eyes, pale skin, and radiant smile. If Sari was switched on, Rob was switched off. A profound sadness hung around him as their combined energy both drew people in and repelled them. He smiled as though he needed a root canal and held out a large, scarred hand.
Alexa didn’t want to like anything about him, but she was unprepared for the sensation of familiarity that zigzagged between them. As her inner emotions and outer worlds collided, she thought of Rick. Perhaps it was the connection to Portland, but the sudden image took her breath away for a quick minute.
“Come,” said Sari, linking her arm through Hannah’s, leading the way to the bistro off the lobby. “Let’s eat.”
Rob and Alexa followed, like extras in a movie. Their only job was to play their parts without flubbing up the lines or stealing the limelight. They settled into a corner banquette: Hannah sat next to Sari; Rob was shoulder-to-shoulder with Alexa. She shrank into herself to avoid physical contact.
For a few minutes they studied menus, avoiding any interaction. Sari made a few suggestions and orders were taken by a fresh-faced server not old enough to drink alcohol.
With the props gone, Hannah directed Act One, regaling them with stories about the kids at the YMCA, babbling wildly about Doc and his basketball aspirations. Her eyes darted from one to the other—a bundle of animated energy.
Their food came as Act Two began. Alexa nibbled at her chicken wrap while politely answering questions about work, Luke, and her first year in Florida. She ordered a soft drink, but wished it were something stronger.
The plates were cleared and desserts ordered as the curtain went up on Act Three. Sari studied Alexa who seemed reserved and introspective, present yet distant. She recognized her old self. Those days of brooding thoughtfulness had vanished with Rob’s warmth. Their courtship had been intense, filled with surprises and spilled secrets. She fell hard. Now, despite her concern about Alexa’s impending meltdown and her appreciation for her vivacious grand-daughter, Sari knew she’d chosen the right time to come here.
“Did you know there are thirty-five bathrooms in the White House?” asked Hannah.
“That’s a lot of toilet paper,” joked Rob with a half smile.
She put her hand on her grandmother’s arm. “I’m so happy you’re here. I thought I’d never meet you.”
“Why honey?”
“Mom keeps me on a tight leash.”
“That’s not a bad thing you know,” Rob said. “You ever hear of T&T?”
“Sounds dirty.”
He laughed. “Well, it can lead to some dirty stuff, that’s for sure.”
Alexa nervously cleared her throat while shredding the paper napkin.
Rob said, “T&T, teens and trouble. Like apple pie and ice cream.” His eyes held Hannah’s. “You should be happy your mom cares enough to set boundaries. Without them, you could find yourself in a heap of trouble. I speak from experience.”
Alexa didn’t want to admit she appreciated his observation. After all the arguments she’d had with Hannah before the party and especially in the aftermath—all the discussions about broken curfews and why stiff parental control was important—she finally felt vindicated. Validated. She wasn’t being a strict disciplinarian. She was a mom; a mom who cared deeply.
And this dark-haired stranger with large, scarred hands and disarming smile had her back—a most interesting turn of events.
“So Hannah, what do you want to be when you grow up?” asked Rob. “An astronaut, CEO, lawyer, doctor?”
She grinned impishly, “I’m thinking maybe a trapeze artist or lion tamer. I haven’t decided. There are lots of options out there.” Everyone smiled as the flippant comment diffused the tension. Shoulders relaxed and dessert was served.
As the evening ended, Hannah asked, “Can they come for dinner tomorrow?”
“Sure thing,” said Alexa, waiting just one beat too long.
“We don’t want to be a bother.” Sari patted Hannah’s hand.
“No, don’t be silly.” Alexa forced a smile. “I’ll make something simple.”
“We’ll bring desert.” Rob put his arm around Sari. “I’ll bet Hannah likes chocolate.”
“Who doesn’t?” they said in unison.
“Seven o’clock,” said Alexa. “See you then.”
Rob and Sari walked them to the car, and then doubled back to the outdoor patio. He settled down on shaded lounge chairs in the sticky twilight. “That went well.”
Sari said, “Alexa was quiet.”
“I didn’t take her for a chatterbox, but she doesn’t know me from a wart hog. Hannah’s a wild pony trying to break free, make her own way in life. Alexa has the right idea about keeping her close. She could get into a mess of trouble in a hurry. But her sense of humor is impeccable.”
Sari smiled. “She’s quite something, I agree. There wasn’t as much drama as I expected.”
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