by Jami Denise
Sadly, I wasn’t fairing as well. My boobs, the skin under my arms, and my butt were all heading south. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't think I was ugly, but I was falling apart, and it wasn’t easy to accept.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked in an amused tone.
"I think I want a boob job," I blurted out.
"What?" he laughed. "Where the hell did that come from? You've got a great rack." He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a sexy, sideways smile.
I just shrugged.
"Seriously, Jenna. Who's been putting things in your head? Abbie?"
I shook my head and sat on the edge of the bed. "No. I was just thinking out loud. Don't mind me. I'm just being weird." I shook it off and gave him an awkward smile.
He didn’t say anything in reply, so I decided to get out of there before something else happened. I had a full schedule of clients at the salon, and I didn’t need to be upset all day.
“I’m heading out. I put breakfast in the oven and coffee should be done. I’ll be home around six.” I pushed off the bed, leaned over to give him a quick kiss which he thankfully returned, and headed off to work.
* * *
My day was long but steady. At least work allowed me to clear my head a little. I’d worked there for over ten years and one of the best parts of my job was getting lost in my own little world. Most of my clients were little old ladies coming in for wash and sets and perms, but occasionally, I’d get to do something creative.
One of those times, unfortunately, was my least favorite client. She was always my last appointment on the fourth Sunday of the month. Like freaking clockwork.
Not only was she a bitch, but she happened to have been a good friend of Lana’s back in the day.
Thankfully, she didn’t say a word about Lana, and I knew if she had seen her already I would’ve had an earful. I was just glad she came and went without that whore’s name coming up.
I’d long given up worrying about Lana, but was I happy she was back in town? Hell no. And there was no possible way in hell I was befriending her. Screw that. She was ugly, inside and out, and that was never happening. Ever.
Chapter 5
"Macy, can you get Benji's jacket on your way out? I have to grab the cake, and Laney and Skylar are already loading the truck with the rest of the food," I yelled up the stairs to my daughter.
Her thundering footsteps came running down the stairs, and then she grabbed her brother’s jacket and thrust it in my arms. "I'm not going. This is so lame!" she whined.
I gave her a frustrated sigh and tucked the jacket under my arm. "You're going. We talked about this. This is a special occasion, Macy. You don't get to use your get out of jail free cards on family celebrations.”
She rolled her eyes and huffed. "But Daddy does? Where's he?”
I tensed and gave her a warning look. "He's coming. He's picking up some tarps for the backyard from the work site. Calm down.”
“Whatever. Fine. How boring! Sitting around with a bunch of old people and little babies. Lucky me.”
Her sarcasm came through loud and clear. I laughed, but honestly, I think I was just delirious at that point. Getting out of the house with my sanity had become an impossible chore with those kids.
“It won’t be all old people and little kids. You’ll have your sisters, and Aubrey and Lily will be there. You love Lily.”
“I do love her, and she’s super cute, but if she wants to play hair again today, I’m walking home. Remember the chunk of hair she ripped out the last time I babysat?”
"Hey, I offered you the job at the salon, and you wanted to babysit instead. Quit your bitching and get ready to go.”
"Oh yeah, lots of fun!" she mumbled sarcastically. "Spend all afternoon with my mom bossing me around and then come home and get bossed around for the rest of the night. Nah, I'm straight.”
"As fun as it is arguing with you,” I told her, giving her the death stare. “I need to get this cake wrapped up and get to the house before Tara gets there. Go get your brother ready and strapped into his car seat.”
She turned and flung herself out of the room, and I started shoving serving utensils into a bag, shaking my head the whole time. Macy could argue until the cows came home. Sometimes it was too much. Especially when I was running late and out of steam. She was giving me gray hairs, and that was enough to send my mood into full blown shitsville.
The impulse to buy my mom a bottle of wine was strong. Maybe Scotch, something strong.
Lord knows I put her through enough when I was growing up, but having my house full of hormonal teenagers, I appreciated her even more. I didn't remember being as snippy as my girls were, but I was a teenager so I probably didn’t pay attention.
She was patient and understanding. I tried to be fair and understanding with my girls, but I had a short temper—something I inherited from my dad. Royal was the softy. I was the disciplinarian, and it sucked.
Finally, I had the dog fed, a triple layer coconut cake, four salads, five pounds of marinated chicken to be grilled, four bodies in the truck strapped in and ready to go, and we were finally on our way.
I got to the house and smiled when I heard the music from inside. Abbie was so excited about the party. I think she was just glad Tara was turning forty before her.
When we got to the house, I was stunned at how amazing it looked. Abbie was the creative one, so I was glad she called dibs on decorations. Crepe paper streamed from every doorway, balloons bobbed from the backs of the chairs, and the flowers she chose were placed strategically around the house.
"It looks great, Abbie," I told her as I placed the cake on the counter.
She wiped her hands on her apron and smiled. "Not bad, right? I should’ve borrowed the girls to help. I'm getting too old for this shit,” she laughed.
Macy walked in behind me and put the two bowls of salad in the fridge. "You could have asked me, Aunt Abbie. I was bored all day.”
The girls absolutely loved Abbie. I think it was because she was a perpetual teenager, and she let them borrow her clothes. She and Macy were close, mostly because they were so much alike. They were outgoing and beautiful and tough as nails. They related on a much deeper level, almost like sisters.
Abbie smiled and patted Macy on the butt. "I know you would've, Mace. I thought it'd be easy enough, but I'm beat. Those damn balloons were hell. I think I blew my brains out!"
I shook my head at her. "Abbie, have you learned nothing over the years? Rent one of those damn helium tanks. It's so worth the money."
She scoffed. "Please. I already went through my paycheck on this mofo. I should've just called your hubby—he's full of hot air, and he would’ve been perfect."
"Ah, don't be mean to Daddy," Macy scolded. "He's not here to protect himself."
"Yeah, where the hell is he anyway? He was supposed to be here a half hour ago with my chairs and the canopies. I called him, but he didn't answer."
I shrugged my shoulders and tried to control the urge to spew verbal insults. He'd been a dick all morning. He left me a note, letting me know he was getting the canopies and would meet me at the party, but that was it. I hadn't had a chance to tell Tara and Abbie about what had been going on, and with my daughter in the room, I kept my mouth shut.
"He left me a note. I don't know where he is. Macy, can you text him and tell him to hurry? I’ll go get the rest of the food out of the truck." I asked her.
"Sure, Mom."
Abbie followed me out to the car, and I could feel the questions brewing in her brain. It was how we worked. She always knew when something was up. I never hid anything from her, but for some reason, it was hard to talk about Royal and me. I couldn't do it.
"That dress is fantastic. I told you it was great," she said.
I looked down at the simple sundress and smiled. She talked me into buying it weeks ago, but I kept the tags on because I wasn't sure about it. "Thanks. It's super comfortable. I'm glad the weather held up for the
party so I could wear it."
She huffed and grabbed my arm to stop me. Enough small talk. Spill. Royal's leaving you notes? What's going on?"
And there it was. She wouldn't let up until I told her everything.
"We had a huge fight. Things have been a little... difficult for a while now, and the other night I snapped on him.”
"What'd he do this time?" she said with a smirk.
"He came home from work and told me he ran into Lana Adams."
Her mouth fell open in shock. "Shut the front door! Lana... like, thee Lana? What's she doing back? I thought she married some movie producer in L.A.?"
"I didn't ask, and I don't care. What pissed me off was his attitude. He's barely said five words to me for weeks and then comes home with this news like he won the damn lottery! How was I supposed to react? Be glad? Screw that. I hate her. She made my life hell while we were dating, and I’d never been happier to see someone disappear from my life. But now here she is, and apparently, it's the best news he’s had in years. Asshole!" I growled before plopping down on the bumper of the truck.
Her expression changed again, and I saw the hurt in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you two were fighting? He hasn’t said a word at work, either. Damn, Jenna."
I smiled sadly and shook my head. "I don't know what to do. I'm so angry, and he doesn't understand why. How can he be so clueless? He should've known it would hurt me. It's like he didn't even care."
She let out a haughty laugh and shook her head in disbelief. “Freaking Grainger men and their shitty attitudes. They both have steel rods up their asses and shit for brains. Don't even get me started.”
Abbie had a lot of opinions about my husband and his brother. Glenn was already on her shit list, and had been since he broke up with Tara. She worked for Royal, so she had her own issues with him. They were more like brother and sister, but she was also my oldest and best friend, which meant if he pissed me off, she was pissed, too.
We’d been a tight-knit group for as long as I could remember. When Tara fell for Glenn after I started dating Royal, the bond was set. However, Abbie wasn’t his biggest fan from the get-go. She’d taken to Royal right away, but she never truly trusted Glenn. She was protective, overly so. When Tara and Glenn fell apart, he went right back to the top off her list.
I was glad I’d never held a spot on that list. She was little, but she was scary as heck.
I placed my hand on Abbie’s knee and squeezed. "It'll be okay, but I promise to talk to you if I need to. Not today, though. Let's just have a good time for Tara. This is her night." I smiled, pushed myself off the bumper, and grabbed the rest of the things from inside.
"I brought my blender, so it’ll be a good night. Let the margaritas be our salvation," she laughed.
"Always," I agreed.
* * *
Tara pulled into the driveway forty-five minutes later, and Royal still hadn't arrived. I was pissed. Livid. I’d called to ask where he was, and he’d said he was on his way and hung up abruptly.
It wasn’t like him to screw Tara over, especially on her birthday. The phone call left me tense, and I just hoped Tara wouldn’t feel it.
The surprise went off without a hitch, and Tara was so excited about the party. It was just what she needed to get her mind off things and celebrate.
We went ahead and started the grill since we had no idea where Royal was or when he’d get there. Thankfully Abbie kept Tara’s glass full of strawberry margaritas, and Skylar, Macy, and Delaney kept the kids busy.
I did catch Tara and Abbie sharing looks out of the corner of their eyes and knew it was time to completely come clean and give them the whole story so they’d stop worrying. Tara’s birthday party was hardly the place to drop that kind of drama, though.
Then, forty-five minutes after Tara arrived, my stupid husband finally strolled through the door.
With Lana.
The corn on the cob in my hand fell to the ground, followed by my flimsy paper plate and the food it contained. Her phony smile lit a fire in my soul that I was sure would send the whole house into an inferno. The look I had for my husband could have surely turned him into stone, and he fucking knew it.
"Royal. Word. Now,” I snapped.
I had some choice words for him, so I marched toward the back yard so my children wouldn’t hear them.
He followed behind me, his boots hit heavy against the tile floor with every step. He was angry—not that he had any reason to be. He had to know what a dick move it was to bring her to the party.
Once I hit the edge of the yard, I turned to face him, my face on fire with anger.
"What the hell were you thinking bringing her here?" I whispered harshly.
He narrowed his eyes and mirrored my stance with his arms crossed over his chest. "I didn't know what else to do, Jenna. Her car broke down and she called for some help. Her timing belt snapped, so I had to call AAA to have it towed. She was a mess and upset, so I figured it wouldn't hurt for her to tag along."
I felt my eyes bounce around in my head before bulging out in disbelief. "She called you? You didn't think it would matter? Why is she calling my husband to rescue her from the side of the road? What the hell is going on, Royal?" I demanded.
I don’t know what made me angrier—the fact she called him or the fact that he'd given her his number in the first place. I was steering toward the latter.
"Would you calm the fuck down? Jesus! Not everything has to be a big conspiracy, Jenna. She's an old friend; we've been through this already. I was trying to help. She's going through a really hard time."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Who gave a shit what she was going through?
"Whatever. Thanks for coming through for those that matter—you know, your wife, children, Godchildren, friends. You're a piece of work." I shook my head and walked away, but stopped to say one more thing.
"I'm not done talking about this, but today is about Tara.”
I headed back into the house and slammed the screen door with a cringe-worthy slap. The tears were already falling, so I went straight to the back bathroom so I could get myself under control. I had no poker face whatsoever, especially when I was upset. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin Tara’s birthday with our drama.
Once I had myself calmed down, I opened the door and found my husband waiting outside. He shoved me back in the bathroom and shut and locked the door behind him. Without a word, he lifted my small frame, sat me on the counter and kissed the breath out of me. His lips were soft but firm, and as soon as his tongue slid over my bottom lip, I moaned in pleasure.
Maybe it was the adrenaline, but I couldn’t push him away. I loved the way his hands moved over my hips, urgent and needy. It’d been a while since he’d touched me that way, like he meant it. This wasn’t a drunk tumble or an attempt to be normal. This was want. Need.
As our kiss deepened, my anger waned. Just as I pushed my fingers through his hair and turned my head to kiss him harder, the sound of my son squealing in the other room burst our bubble.
"Don't be mad, Jenna," he whispered against my lips. "I didn't mean to piss you off. I wasn't thinking."
I sighed and leaned my head against his chest. "I don't like you hanging out with her. Don’t you get it?"
He let out a long breath and kissed the top of my head. "I do. She just needs someone to talk to sometimes. I feel bad for her."
It was like everything I said went in one ear and out the other. I’d pretty much demanded he stop talking to her, and he was going to do it anyway.
Again, I was furious.
I pushed away from him, swung the door open roughly, and stormed into the other room. As I entered the family room, the look on Macy and Sky’s faces hit me straight in the gut. The sight of Benji on her lap was the nail in the coffin.
“Macy,” I said, turning to my oldest. “Can you take Ben and Lily into the other room?”
She nodded, grabbed Benji off Lana’s lap and called for Lily over her shoul
der. Poor Tara was in shock, and I didn’t allow myself to look over at Abbie. She probably had the same expression as I did.
Rage.
I turned, glaring at Royal. “I think it’s time for Lana to leave. We’ll see you at home.”
I didn't give Lana a second glance. She didn’t even deserve my anger, honestly. I stormed into the kitchen and knew Royal was fast behind me. I was about to lose it in a big way, and I needed her gone. Immediately.
I heard Tara behind us, and since she was out of the loop as far as the Lana situation went, she was chomping at the bit to get details.
When I was out of ear shot of my girls, I grabbed the edge of the table and leaned forward, taking a deep breath. I felt Tara’s warm hand on my shoulder and had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t cry.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.
"What do you think?"
Her gaze traveled to Royal, and she glared at him with venom in her eyes. "What the hell is your problem bringing her here?”
"She's overreacting, as usual,” he snapped. “I'm going out back.”
"This calls for booze,” Abbie said with a groan. “This is a big fat mess, and it’s time to get down to business.”
“One shot,” Tara said quickly, walking over to the cupboards and digging around on a shelf. “Then, we get that bitch in my living room the hell out of my living room!”
Abbie laughed. “Are we just letting her sit out there? Alone?”
“Yes,” Tara and I said simultaneously.
“Let her wonder what we’re doing in here. The whore,” I said.
Tara set the shot glasses down on the table while Abbie poured and stared at me while tapping her dangerously long fingernails against the polished oak table top. It would’ve been annoying had it been anyone else. I knew her too well, though. That’s how she contemplated things. Planned her next move. She’d tap those damn nails.
"Sorry," she said.
"Don't be. I'll talk. I promise. I'm just trying to hold it together. I haven't wanted to burden you guys with things."
"Jesus, Jenna! Burden me, please! I'm dying over here! When did that snake slither into town?" she asked anxiously.