The Do-Over

by Julie A. Richman

  And now here she was married and probably to the handsomest man in the room, a man who looked to be in his early to mid-40’s and I guessed Mia was close in age to me. So why was it that the handsomest man in the entire room didn’t need a 25-year old? This man was clearly deeply in love with a woman his age. Why? Why was he not running after child brides like Frank and Wes?

  “Tell me this,” I asked Jonathan. “Mia’s husband doesn’t seem to need a 20-something girlfriend and he’s better looking than all the ones that do. Why is that?”

  “Because that man doesn’t have an insecure bone in his body.”

  “Can you clone him for me?”

  “Only if we can clone one for me too.” Jonathan pouted. “Did you notice Seth has a handsome Prince Harry redheaded significant other, too?”

  “No, I was so busy watching Mia and that man who adores her.” Turning to take another peek at them, “I want that.”

  “Get in line, sista.” Jonathan squeezed my hand under the table.

  I waited until they began the print awards before excusing myself from the table. Returning from the ladies’ room I wandered the ornate building, stepping outside to admire their outdoor bar, Champagne Charlie’s. Leaning on the railing, I watched the after work crowd enjoying the balmy spring evening as they winded down the end of the day with a cocktail.

  The sleeve of his suit jacket brushed my bare arm, giving me goosebumps, as he leaned on the railing next to me. It was a déjà vu moment of our last night in the Caribbean.

  Looking at him, I smiled. “Your daughter is beautiful.”

  “My daughter?” He looked genuinely confused and I reveled in his discomfort as he was going to have to tell me who she was. “Oh you mean Keiko? No, no. She’s not my daughter.”

  “No?” I feigned confusion. Say it Wes.

  “My daughter,” he laughed uneasily. “Ouch, that hurts.” He paused, looking out at the garden and not making eye contact with me. “Keiko is my girlfriend.”

  Keeping up the charade of confusion, I too looked out at the flower garden and just nodded my head.

  “I can see it in your face, Tara. Just say what you want to say,” Wes’ tone was no nonsense and more than a little defensive, but he had not moved away from me and our arms were still touching.

  Without looking at him, I surprised myself by baring my soul. “My ex’s new wife is twenty-five,” and then I turned to him with a smile, “and a half. Yes, she still counts halves. I call her CB, which stands for Child Bride. So clearly this is my issue based on my own shit.” And I shrugged my shoulders.

  He nodded. “I can only imagine I dropped a few notches in your estimation today.”

  Without any true focal point, I stared back out at the garden, because I couldn’t look him in the eyes and tell him the truth. The man was a customer. “It’s not my place to judge you.”

  “But you do.” He bumped his shoulder into mine.

  “It’s my shit, Wes.”

  Leaning into me a little bit, he began to talk, “Six years ago I lost my wife, Lisa, to breast cancer. She’d only been sick, let me rephrase that, we only knew about it for two years. She was asymptomatic for a long time and by the time the cancer started presenting, we had a whole host of issues on our hands.”

  Reaching across with my left hand, I laid it on his left forearm and gave it a squeeze, “I’m so sorry.” I looked at his handsome profile and let my hand remain on his forearm.

  He just nodded and continued, “During those two years, I was her biggest cheerleader. She wasn’t going to die because I wasn’t going to let her. I kept pushing her on, cheering her on. So, when she did die, I went to pieces. How could that happen, I was cheering, pushing, finding new treatments all over the world, working with nutritionists, spiritualists, you name it.”

  “I’m so sorry,” was all I could repeat through my tears. My heart wept for him and his wife.

  “After she died, I took off to Mexico and literally sat on a rock in Zihuatenajo for two weeks. Seriously.” He looked at me, his eyes sharing an intensity of pain that matched his resolve. “I sat on a rock and didn’t move. I couldn’t understand how it happened. I’d moved Heaven and Earth to fix it. To fix her. So, how the hell did she die? How?”

  Tears were rushing down my face and I could hardly breathe. My hand on Wes’ forearm was now more for me, an anchor to hold me up, than it was for him.

  “Finally, Stacy came and got me. She made me leave my rock and go home. I was just totally non-functional for a while and then one day when I was doing research, because I hadn’t yet let go, the concept of C-Kicker came to me. I knew the apparel industry inside and out and no one was meeting this need. And that is what gave me purpose again and transported me back to the land of the living.”

  Nodding my head, I was too emotionally devastated to speak.

  “And do you want to hear the kicker of all this?” He bumped my shoulder again.

  “There’s more?” I choked out.

  “You know when it rains it pours. Stacy has breast cancer, too. We’re dealing with her second recurrence of it now.”

  “Noooo.” My response was low and guttural, another barrage of tears drowning my cheeks.

  “She says hello, by the way.” Wes smiled at me.

  I laughed through my tears, “What? You told her you saw me? I’m shocked that she remembered me.”

  He nodded and smiled, “Yeah, she remembered you all right. She said she wishes she hadn’t been so mean to you. You might be on some long list of people she has somewhere that she needs to apologize to.”

  “How is her prognosis?”

  “We’ll see after she finishes this round of chemo.”

  I nodded, not knowing what to say. We were silent for a few minutes and I wondered if the segue of conversation from Keiko to his confiding his past to me was some sort of explanation for his relationship with her. And if so, what did it mean? That after his wife, he wanted something different? Maybe younger might be equated with health in his mind? I wasn’t quite sure. But I was glad he’d confided in me.

  “Wes Bergman, why do you always have a girlfriend when we meet?” I shocked myself when what I was thinking came out of my mouth.

  The look in his eyes was not one I expected. I was anticipating a joke or wisecrack, but what I saw was a man who was dead serious. He moved his arm from mine on the railing and slung it over my shoulder, pulling me into him. With lips against my temple, his voice was gruff as he said, “I’ve never greeted the morning light with anyone but you.”

  I don’t know if he thought it would make me happy to hear that I was the only one he’d ever done that with, but it had the exact opposite effect, and I’m sure it bewildered him as much as it surprised me to feel me stiffen in his arms and look away.

  Chapter 12

  “Well maybe he knew she was someone he wouldn’t fall for deeply,” was Jill’s take on the Wes/Keiko situation.

  “I agree,” Laynie concurred. “I think after what that man went through, he was just looking for something to help him forget and heal. Keiko is not serious material for him. And he wasn’t ready for anything serious.”

  I was on my second glass of wine and instead of feeling happy, the blues were setting in. “Well, it’s not like I’ve got a chance with the man.”

  Picking the almonds out of the mixed nuts at the center of the table, Jill didn’t look up. “Why not, Tara? He’s obviously got a thing for you. You two have this special connection.”

  “We sure do have a special connection and his name is Julien.” Just saying it made me shudder and reach for my wine glass.

  Jill’s blue eyes opened wide with horror. “That’s got to be hanging over your head knowing at any time Julien can drop the guillotine,” her tone was hushed and dramatic.

  A sip of wine was halfway down my throat and I began to choke, “That’s a great visual. The man has already had head from me and now he’s going to have my head.”

  Patting my back, Layn
ie surmised, “I’m sure if he said something to Wes, you’d know about it.”

  “Oh, I agree and then look at what a hypocrite I am, judging him on his young girlfriend when I’ve had sex with his best friend.”

  “They’re best friends?” Jill asked. “Are you sure they’re not just business colleagues?”

  Shaking my head, and grabbing a handful of the now almond-less nut mixture, “From what Kelly has told me, they’ve known each other since they are like eight years old. Wes is very loyal to him and Julien is where he is only because of Wes. I think Wes has bailed him out of a few situations in his life.”

  “Bros before hoes,” Laynie muttered.

  “Exactly,” we all concurred.

  “Can we get another bottle of the Syrah and more nuts,” I asked our waitress.

  “Sorry I stole all the almonds. So why do you think he hasn’t said anything to Wes?”

  “The only thing I can think is that it’s a control thing with him. He’s lording it over me. Holding me hostage with it.” The whole thing was weighing on me heavily. “Do I tell Wes?” I looked at my two friends sorely needing advice on this one.

  Jill was vigorously shaking her head no and I looked at Laynie.

  “Not until he’s pulling a condom out of its wrapper.” My best friend’s pointed look clearly said, keep your mouth shut.

  After weeks of auditions and script tweaks, we were down to final casting on two of the PSA videos with three actresses and two actors doing readings. Wes had joined Kelly and Renata to make the decision and Chris was sitting in with the team, in Wes’ presence.

  I stopped in to say hello to everyone, since this portion of the process didn’t include me. Kim had coffee and danish set-up for everyone and I grabbed a cup.

  “Where have you been hiding?” Renata asked.

  “Just waiting for you guys to finish casting and then you’ll be seeing plenty of me.”

  I caught Wes’ eye and smiled. Why did it feel as if there was no one else in the room whenever he was around? I felt a closeness to this man, yet the distance was evident. Our relationship was purely business, yet it felt like he and I were the only two that shared some colossal secret. Or maybe it was only me, as I really didn’t have any idea what he was feeling and the secret I was hiding was massive.

  Donna slipped into the room, “Tara, I have Frank on the phone.”

  It was odd that Frank would call into the main number. “Tell him I’ll call him back.” I tried to keep my voice low.

  “Umm, he was pretty insistent he needed to speak to you.” And then she whispered, “It came in through an international number.”

  “What?” My voice was louder and sharper than I’d expected it to come out.

  Shaking my head, I fled from the room. This was not going to be good. Not at all. It was Thursday morning and two days away was the Annual Father/Daughter Spring Dance. If he was overseas anywhere I was going to get on a plane and kill the man with my bare hands.

  “I’ll put it through to your office.” Donna headed back to the front desk.

  Visions of castration were becoming clearer as my anger increased with every step toward my office. Closing the door, I picked up my phone.

  “Frank?”

  The line was scratchy. “Hey Tar, I’ve got some bad news.”

  “Where are you?”

  “You see that’s the problem. I’m in Paris and won’t be able to make it back until Sunday.”

  “Yeah, that is a problem, Frank, since you’ve got a date with your daughter on Saturday night.”

  “I know. I feel terrible.”

  “No Frank, if you felt terrible, you’d get your ass on a plane tomorrow and come home.”

  “Look, Tara, my hands were really tied.”

  “This had better be a good one, like the only surgeon who could reattach your balls is there.”

  “Ha-ha, good one. You were always funny.”

  “Spit it out.” My anger was flaring.

  “It’s Crystal’s parents’ 25th anniversary and she booked this whole anniversary trip for them.”

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me. How long have you known about this? You both knew this was the weekend of Scarlett’s dance. How many times are you going to break your daughter’s heart?” Hearing my door, I looked up and Wes was slipping into my office as I got the last sentence out.

  “I’ll get her something really great. An outfit from a top French designer that her friends would kill for.”

  “She doesn’t want an outfit or any other gifts, Frank. She wants her father with her at that dance. Especially after what you pulled on her with the holiday dance. What message are you giving her? Not to trust men that tell you they love you? You’re breaking her heart. As you’ve already seen, you will have multiple marriages in your life, but only one daughter named Scarlett.”

  Wes opened the mini-fridge in my office and pulled out a bottle of Evian. Unscrewing the cap, he handed it to me. My hands were shaking with anger and it splashed all over my desk.

  “Can you let her know…” I cut him off.

  “No. I cannot let her know. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the fucking night there, you’d better pick up the phone and call her yourself. You should be ashamed of yourself. That child is too good for you.” And I clicked off the phone before he could respond.

  Turning away from Wes, I breathed deeply, trying to calm myself. How the hell could a man do this to his daughter? And now, not once, but twice.

  “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head, no. I was trying my hardest to hold back tears. Without turning to face him, I alerted him to that. “If you ever see me cry, run for the hills because it means I’m angry. Very angry. I cry when I’m angry.” Dabbing the corners of my eyes with the back of my fingers, I pulled myself together enough to finally turn around.

  “What a piece of shit.” I exhaled, letting a load of the tension out.

  Wes picked up a picture on my desk, “She’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” I smiled. “And she’s a good kid, too. Smart and sensitive and very funny.” I motioned for him to take a seat, as I did the same. He continued to look at the picture in his hand. “This is the second time in a row he’s done this to her. He did it at the holidays and now for the Father/Daughter Spring Dance.”

  “When is it?”

  “Saturday.”

  “This Saturday?” Wes looked astonished. “Wow. And what was the excuse?”

  “They flew to Paris for his wife’s parents 25th anniversary.”

  “They live in Paris?”

  “No. They live in The Bronx.”

  “Didn’t you say she was twenty-five and a half?” He smiled at me, coyly.

  Gasping, “I did. Well, there’s a little family secret.” Shaking my head, “Scarlett is going to be destroyed. Maybe my brother can come in.”

  “Where is he?” Wes picked up Scarlett’s picture again.

  “He’s in Boulder.”

  “Colorado?”

  I nodded.

  “How about this,” Wes began. “I know Scarlett is going to be disappointed. But what if we set up a mystery date for her.” I could see the crinkles start to appear in the corners of his eyes and then that smile. That damn, heart-stopping smile. What was it about this man?

  I laughed, “I’m envisioning this board game that my older cousins had. You’d open the door at the center of the board to find out which guy was your mystery date.”

  “Exactly. What if Scarlett just knows that she has a blind date for the dance and that she’s going to have a fun time.”

  “Okay. So, do we rent a non-asshole dad for the night?”

  “Well, I promise not to charge rent.” And there was that smile again.

  “You?” My mouth was hanging open. “You want to take my daughter to a dance?” I was floored by his offer. It was beyond generous in spirit.

  “I would love to. Now, she’s a little young, even for me,” he joked. “But
I’d love to be her surprise date and help make the night a little bit better for her.”

  “Wes.” I was speechless. Reaching for his hand across the desk, I gave it a squeeze. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Tell me about her dress.” He smiled and gave my hand a squeeze back.

  “It’s beautiful. It’s a pale sky blue with a full skirt. Very ‘50’s.”

  He smiled at the description. “Okay and how is she wearing her hair.”

  “We’re having an up do done on Saturday. She has that perfect heavy, wavy hair for an up do. And she’s doing a mani/pedi on Saturday, too.” This man, a virtual stranger to my daughter, had just asked more questions than her father ever had.

  “They still do corsages, right?”

  I nodded, “They do. It’s a big thing for a bunch of girls to put their hands together to form a circle and have someone take a picture from above of the circle of corsages. It’s really beautiful with all the colors.”

  “Dinner?”

  “They’re serving a buffet there.”

  “What time?”

  “7:30 to get there by 8.”

  “Where is it being held?”

  “At the school. North Shore Country Day.”

  Wes looked impressed. “North Shore Country Day,” he repeated. “Very nice.”

  One of Long Island’s prestigious prep schools, the campus of North Shore Country Day was built on a former Vanderbilt estate. The north shore was dotted with estates that had been summer homes to various members of the railroad tycoon’s family.

  “Wes, I really don’t know what to say, there aren’t words to thank you here. I think she will be very hurt by what Frank has pulled, but in the end, I know she will be thrilled that she’s still able to go and will absolutely adore you.” I know I do, were the words I didn’t say.

  “My mind is spinning with ideas. We’re going to have a great time.” He smiled and I felt relief.

  “What are you going to tell Keiko? You’re going out on a Saturday night.”

  Looking me directly in the eye and holding my stare. “I’m going to tell her that I’m turning her in for a younger model.”