“Oh, dear, you’re doing the best you can. Sophia sees that, but she’s a lot like her father.”
“This I do know,” I tell my mother but wonder if I’ve done the right thing by bringing her here with me. There’s no way I could leave her with David, but at this age, she knows more than I want her to.
“How was your day? Did your meeting go well?” she questions, but from the look on her face I know she’s up to something.
“What’s with your face, Mother?”
“Jules, how dare you? Nothing is wrong with my face.”
“No, I mean that look. What do you know and what have you done?”
“I’ve not done anything, and I might already know you got the job.” She shrugs and walks toward the kitchen before alerting me that dinner will be ready soon. My mother the peddler… Geez, I love her, but I have a feeling she’s up to no good. I stand and grab my stuff before retreating to my room. She’ll call for us when dinner is made, and then I’ll have to face both her and my father. Once I’m behind closed doors, I fall back on the small twin bed and stare up at the ceiling where my old New Kids on the Block poster is still taped to the popcorn ceiling. How it’s lasted up there this long, beats the hell out of me. I lean up on my elbows, scanning the rest of the room, trying to contain my laughter at what this new life is. I’d give anything to be back in my home office where I can read this contract in private instead of sharing it with the trophies, sashes, and old boy band posters. Before I go changing things around in here, I’ve got to figure out the living situation that’s going on. My mind floats back to the house I saw today and how it would be nice, but it’s a little out of my range right now. “You can do this, Jules. It’s only been twenty-four hours,” I say out loud right as Sophia enters without knocking.
“Mom, can you please tell Grandmother to stay out of my room?”
“How do you know she was in your room?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter and watching Sophia as she starts to count on her hands.
“First, my bed is made. Second, my laundry was not only washed but folded and put away. I had one outfit in the hamper, Mom. That’s my space,” she finishes and plops down next to me causing me to slide off the edge of the bed a little.
“That wasn’t Grandma, that was Martha. She comes and cleans daily, you know this. Plus, you know to make your bed before leaving. Just because we moved, doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten how to do chores,” I remind her.
“I know, but I was running late and planned on doing that when I got home,” she states as she places her head down on my shoulder.
“I’ll talk to them,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and snuggling her closer to me.
“What were you telling yourself that you can do when I walked in?”
“It’s nothing, sweetheart, now go get ready for dinner.”
“This room sucks, Mom,”
“This I’m aware of, but hey, if you need some decorations for your room, feel free to take a poster or two.”
“Who are these bands?” she asks as she scrunches up her nose in an I can’t believe you’re my mother way.
“Don’t judge. It was the ‘in’ thing back in the day.”
“You mean when you were hip and cool in the 80’s and 90’s.” She laughs.
“Yes, back when I was cool,” I say as I realize that I’m no longer cool to my daughter. It pains me as I remember the days when I was her hero, the one she looked up to. Now, now I get the look of a teenage daughter who thinks her mom is anything but cool.
“Scoot, and please don’t slam your door again,” I say as my door closes. I’m not sure if she heard me or not, but I don’t hear another slam before I fall back to the bed again.
Sitting up, I walk over to my tiny desk in front of the window that overlooks the front yard with the contract in hand.
Comfortable, I flip through page after page, reading each word, making sure I know what I’m getting myself into. This will be the first long-term contract like this that we’ve done, but I can’t even say we as this is just for me. I’ve talked with Lacy already, and she’s onboard as she knows we/I need this. Lacy has her own clients, ones who pay her and the company just like this one will do for me. My only concern is that I won’t have time for other clients. What happens when I let Ward Properties take up all my time? Will I be that girl who threw all her dreams away just so she could move out from her parents’ home? Either way, I’ll deal with it as each day happens. Instead of signing on the bottom line yet, I wait as I won’t be able to get this back over to them until the morning. I hear the echoes of another door closing, alerting me that my father is home from whatever he’s been doing today. Which is also code in this house that dinner will be placed on the table at any second.
I stand and grab my phone before heading out of the room. I slow my steps before I enter the hallway and turn back to the room that once housed so many great memories. I have to rearrange it if I’m staying here, or at least take the posters down.
Sophia and I take our seats at the table as we both watch my mother place dish after dish down on the table covered in a white lace tablecloth. Growing up, this was how it was every night unless they had dinner at the club. We might have a housekeeper and a gardener, but Mom cooked, baked cookies and pies for us. That was her thing. She refused for anyone to join her in the kitchen as it was her ‘private place’ or office as she explained one time. I get it. Back when my family was still together, that was me. I cooked and cleaned. We did have a housekeeper come in once a week to do some deep cleaning, but the daily stuff was me, and Sophia had chores. There was no way I was letting her grow up without responsibility.
My parents start small talk with Sophia, and I can tell she’s not warming up to the twenty-question game. Interjecting myself, I ask, “What are your plans tonight?”
“I wanted to know if I could meet Stacie so we can work on our project for science class.”
She gives me a pleading look, and I can’t help my response. “That’s fine but be home by ten, you have school tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Welcome, is she coming to get you or do I need to take you?”
“She’s coming to get me,” she explains before taking a sip of her water.
“Seems you’ll have the house to yourself tonight, Jules,” my father states, and I wonder what they are talking about.
“Bridge night,” my mother says in a way that should cause me to feel smaller since I forgot tonight was bridge night at the club. Which also means Dad drives her so he can smoke a cigar and drink whiskey with the men while the ladies play bridge. I shake my head as I now remember this and continue to eat. The faster I can get done with dinner the quicker we can all separate. Geez, I sound awful as I sit here and think of the way both Sophia and I are being. It’s… This is an adjustment for the both of us. As hard as I’m trying to get this together, I’m dying on the inside at the mess my life is.
“Thanks for dinner, Mom. I’ll clean up the kitchen tonight,” I spit out and notice the surprised look on my mother’s face. Sophia and I will clean up the kitchen; this will have them scooting out faster.
“Perfect, your father and I can get to the club early. Do you need us to do anything for you before we leave? Sophia, do you need money to go out tonight?”
“No, she doesn’t. She has her allowance, and they should be studying,” I say as I stare down my daughter.
“I’m good. Can I be excused so I can call Stacie?”
“Yes, but you need to help with the kitchen before you leave.”
With my parents gone, and Sophia about to walk out of the house, I change into my pajamas and pull my hair up to the top of my head. I’ve washed my makeup and the day’s stress from my face, and I’m ready to tackle my bedroom. Looking through a bunch of old tapes that I have on the bookshelf near the boom box that was overworked when I was growing up, I laugh at finding my Whitney Houston cassette and pop it in the front then hit play. The b
eat of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” blares through the old speakers. It’s a little crackly and not as crisp as the speakers that we had throughout our home, but it’ll work. Stretching my hands out in front of me, I jump up on the bed and reach up to take down the posters that have been staring down at me for far too long now. I start moving to the beat, reenacting the nights that I would lock myself in my room and sing at the top of my lungs. Just like Whitney, I reach those top notes thinking I’m just like her. It feels weird being this carefree and letting myself go. I can’t remember the last time I just danced around like a fool, like no one’s watching. Well… That is until I turn around in a half hop and come face to face with Lenny Ward leaning against the frame to my bedroom.
“What the hell!” I scream out over the music before I jump down. In a not so graceful way, I tumble and land in the arms of the one person who shouldn’t be in the privacy of my room.
I push out of his arms and hit stop on the cassette player so I can scream again at him. “How did you get in here?”
“Your daughter, well I think she was your daughter since she looks just like you; she let me in as she was running out of here.”
I blow out a quick rush of air. “That would be my daughter.” My voice scares me. Instead of it sounding like a proud mother, it seems defeated and even when I let that soak in, I feel awful for how I just responded to him.
“You got good moves,” Lenny says as he steps further into my bedroom. My arms cross over the front of my chest, as I realize I’m not wearing a bra.
With the heat rising through my cheeks, I open my mouth and ask, “Why are you here, and how did you know where I lived?”
“I wanted to bring you these flyers for some of the other houses and see which ones you wanted to go look at. Oh, and it’s the word on the street. By the way, I love what you’ve done with the space,” he says, trying to hold back his laughter.
“Thanks for those and yes, it hasn’t changed since I left many years ago. You could’ve just emailed me those, you know.”
“Why and miss this show?”
“Funny,” I say as I give him a fake smile which ends up being more of a weird face contortion than anything.
Lenny inches closer to my bookshelf where my music is stored—correction—my old music collection. “Wham, New Kids on the Block, Kenny Loggins—you’ve got a pretty good collection of tapes here that I think the Music Hall of Fame is looking for.”
Offended a little, I pipe up, “What, you don’t remember the classics from our days? You too good, Lenny Ward, for some good, fun music?”
“Never too good for Wham,” he says as he plucks it from its case and places it on the other side of the cassette player and turns around to face me. With a wink, he starts to bop his shoulder up and down before asking, “How about I help you remove your school-girl crushes from the ceiling. I wouldn’t want you to fall and break a leg, you start work tomorrow.”
“Knock yourself out,” I say and lean back against the desk and watch as he slides his shoes off and clambers up on top of my mattress. I’m trying to hold it together as best as I can. Here I am standing in my room that my mother refused to change over the years in my pajamas with no makeup on while he takes down the many crushes that I had a lifetime ago. This current situation would have most people crawling under their bed to hide, but not me. I’m letting this happen because there is no way I’ll let him know that I want to die a small death on the inside. I’m chalking this up as one of those moments that I wish I could rewind and never live through again.
“So, you moved back home, huh?”
“You’re observant,” I say with my voice laced with a mock.
“How old is your daughter?”
“Fifteen going on fifty.”
“She looks just like you; did you know that?”
“Thankfully, and yes, I do, but she has her father’s personality these days.”
“That’s a shame, I thought I would like her, but I see I’m going to have to reconsider my conclusion now.”
“Why?”
“I’m not a fan of David’s, thought you knew that?”
“Didn’t, but that would explain why you hired me then.” Just as the words slip from my mouth, I want to take them back, but I can’t. There’re already out in the open, and I might have to eat them here in a few. Lenny hands me one poster from the ceiling and shifts his body down to work on the next. As I wait for him to respond to what I just said, I can’t keep my eyes off his torso and the way his shirt is pulling up, showcasing his perfect tan and chiseled muscles.
Without thinking, my mouth opens. “Do you workout?” I ask and shake my head. See, when I get nervous my mouth opens and doesn’t know how to shut up. It needs a filter the size of Texas most days.
“I do, you like what you see?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, just asking,” I say, shifting my body again as I try to act calm.
“For the record, I hired you because you’re an amazing designer. I didn’t put it together that you were married to David until my father reminded me today. So no, that’s not why," he says as he jumps down from the bed and walks over to me. Lenny’s inches away, holding the second poster that he just removed for me. I swallow a little louder than intended, trying to slow my breathing as it’s been a very long time since another person has looked at me with such intense eyes.
“But he’s the reason I’m about to do this,” he says, placing his hand behind my neck and pulling me toward his chest. With our bodies flat against each other, I can feel my nipples harden against the cotton material of my top. It all happens so fast, and before I can stop him, his mouth is claiming mine with need. I’m not even sure what’s happening, but I don’t try to break away. Instead, I go with the flow, kissing him with just as much desire. My hands slide up his back and grab his neck as I pull him closer to me as if I need him to cause my heart to beat. No, I don’t because it feels like it’s about to jump from my chest to his. I’m not sure which one of us comes to our senses first as we break apart. I’m left standing here breathless, staring up at a face that’s changed from the hard lines that I saw this afternoon. Now it’s playful, desire and smoky blue eyes that I swear just sparkled at me.
“I just wanted to drop these off. Let me know which ones you want to go to tomorrow,” he says, backing away to grab the flyers that he brought and left on the top of my dresser.
“I think I’m going to wait, there’s no rush to move.”
“Look at the damn houses, Jules. Pick a few and don’t worry about it.”
“Calm down, what’s with the temperature change?”
“Sorry, I just… I shouldn’t have done that, and I don’t need to blur any lines.”
I drag my bottom lip in through my teeth, scrunching up the left side of my face while I let those words sink in. Of course, Lenny shouldn’t have kissed me like that. I mean, what was I thinking? He’s the guy who likes what he can’t have, and since I’m available and have baggage, I’m not likable enough for him. But that kiss… That wasn’t just any kiss… That was a kiss for the record books. Never in my life, and I mean my whole life, have I ever experienced that kind of passion from another set of lips on mine.
“I’ll look them over and let you know. I think it’s best that you leave now,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest to conceal my goodies.
“Yeah, right… I’m going to head out. See ya tomorrow.” He turns and starts to walk away, slowing as he reaches my door. Lenny turns his head toward me, and he moves his eyes up and down the length of my body. I want to say something, but I can’t. Not with the way he’s staring at me. I’m definitely in over my head if we keep this up. As much as I wished for a guy to love me and look at me like that over the years, this is the one person that it shouldn’t be. Lenny Ward is terrible news for me. He’s a player. He’s all business and all pleasure wrapped up in one beautiful bundle. I need this contract with him, and in the end, I’ll find a way to keep clear of that mouth
of his from now on.
6
Lenny
Just as I raise my finger to push the doorbell, the door swings open and I have to step out of the way before I’m knocked down.
“She’s upstairs, first door on the left,” a young girl says as she brushes by me. Thankfully I’m not a mass murderer as she leaves me here with her mother. I didn’t need to ask if they were related. The girl is the spitting image of her mother. Everything from the hair color right down to the spitfire persona I just witnessed. Carefully, I enter the foyer and search around for anyone else. Finding the place empty, I take the steps two by two. The closer I get to the top landing my ears fill with the sounds of Whitney Houston and a very off-key Jules. Leaning against the open door, I have to conceal my laughter as I observe her dancing and singing like a lovestruck teenager. Maybe lovestruck is the wrong word. It’s as if she’s reliving her childhood and by the looks of the room, I’d have to agree a hundred percent. It verifies my next move. The one where I’m bound and determined to help Jules find a new place to live. While standing here, I think back to what it would be like if I had to move back home with my parents. There’s no way in hell that would ever happen. Lucky for me, my mother redid my room the moment I left for college. No, she didn’t do it as she hired Rose to make the place boring with no hint that I ever occupied the air that filled the room.
After scaring the daylights out of Jules, I take it upon myself to remove the posters that she was trying to reach before I showed up. As I slide my fingers under one of the corners that’s taped against the ceiling, I wonder again why I’m here. This conversation could be held over the phone or even in an email. But no, I had to get behind the wheel and drive across town so I can stare at the full lips moving in front of me. That’s the real reason I’m here. No, not to kiss her... well, maybe. I don’t know anything at this point. This is new territory for me. I’m not one who sits back and daydreams about a woman. Okay, there’s been a few times when I’ve thought about what they would feel like underneath me, but never like this.
Forty Candles: A Standalone Romantic Comedy Page 4