The Do-Over

by Julie A. Richman

  “Your visit. Your agenda.”

  Picking up the frame with Scarlett’s picture, he looked at it, then at me. “Cute kid.”

  “Thank you.”

  Without putting down the frame, “Pretty sleazy move there to use your kid to hook Wes.”

  “What are you talking about?” I could tell there was a look of disgust on my face and I immediately tried to get back to neutral. I was reacting and that was just what he wanted.

  “Wes has done well with the ladies over the years. You’ve obviously seen Keiko so you know he attracts beautiful women. You don’t stand a chance. So, to use your kid as bait is really a desperate move, Tara.”

  Reaching across the desk, I plucked the picture frame out of his hand.

  “Julien,” I shook my head, “do not take a really lovely gesture on your friend’s part and turn it into something ugly, because there was no underlying evil or nefarious scheme attached to Wes helping out.”

  And with a sneer on his lips, the man rolled his eyes at me. Choosing not to continue down that road, I pivoted.

  “You know those weeks we talked, I really enjoyed our conversations. We appeared to have a lot in common and quite a bit to talk about.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” He smiled at his success in turning my words on me.

  “Yes, they can.” I paused to let that sink in. “But, you know, I really think we do have a lot in common.”

  “So what? You want to be friends?” Venom dripped off the last word.

  “I don’t know if that will ever happen. I do know never say never. But we are colleagues and what I’d love to see is a good professional relationship and maybe peaceful co-existence on a personal level. Julien, we have no reason to hate each other.”

  “You got off the dating site pretty damn quickly.”

  So, that’s what this was all about. Even though he’d “dumped” me, he wanted me to come back for more and had obviously looked for me and I was gone before he “released” me. I didn’t come begging. What a flipping control freak this guy was.

  “Oh Julien, it wasn’t for me.” I decided, let’s see how the man reacts to honesty. “I really enjoyed talking to you for those few weeks and you lose friends as quickly as you make them on those sites. I can’t do that.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t hook up with everyone.” His sneer was saying checkmate.

  As I maintained direct contact with his icy blue eyes, I certainly was not going to tell him he’d been the only one. The last thing this dude needed to know was that he and my ex were the only two men I’d had sex with in over fifteen years.

  As he got up to leave, I cursed myself for wasting the male poppet doll on Frank.

  Chapter 14

  I shouldn’t have been this emotional. Scarlett had been attending this sleepaway camp since she was ten. But for some reason, being alone for the first time in the new condo was making me feel as empty as the space I was inhabiting. I missed my daughter. Her laugh, her eyeroll, her obsession with the boys in Five Seconds of Summer.

  Walking the halls, I couldn’t get comfortable in my own space those first few nights. I hoped the feeling would subside as I got used to being alone. Scarlett’s absence made it brutally clear that my life revolved around my daughter and my job and somewhere in there, Tara had been lost. Was I doing this because it was safe, I wondered?

  “Why don’t you take a vacation?” Laynie asked over lunch that week.

  “I’m swamped at work. We’re still working on the C-Kicker campaigns for launch in October during National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and we just picked up Food Bank for NYC as a client, so a long weekend is probably all I’d be able to get away for and I’m going to save that for Parent’s Weekend at camp.”

  “You need something more, you know that,” she pressed.

  I know Laynie was expecting to get an argument from me, defending that everything was fine the way it was, but I surprised her when I agreed with her. “You’re right, I do. I just don’t know what. I don’t know how to be single and socially active. I kind have dug myself into the holes of being highly successful at being single and alone, single and a great mom and single and a workaholic. But I don’t know how to be single and socially successful.”

  “You need a pool boy.” Laynie was dead serious.

  “That would work much better if I had a backyard and a pool.” I lamented.

  “Excuses, excuses.” She shook her head while focusing on cutting a slice of grilled eggplant.

  “Bitch.”

  We both laughed, but I was no closer to figuring out how to keep the loneliness at bay that was invading the sanctity of my nights.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” It was a surprise to see Wes walk into my office. Renata and Kelly were the two we had the most contact with and it had been at least a month since Wes had been onsite.

  “There were some rushes that needed my approval.”

  I was surprised we hadn’t just uploaded them to him.

  “And I have to meet Julien in about an hour. Our biggest fabric supplier is in from the Far East and we have a last meeting with them out by Kennedy Airport before they head home, so I figured I’d stop by here first.

  “Sit down.” I motioned to the chair.

  He picked up the picture of Scarlett and smiled. “So, she seems to be loving sleepaway camp.”

  “You two are in touch?” I was shocked.

  Wes laughed. “The mom’s always the last to know. Yeah, I get texts from her every few days.”

  “You do? That child tells me nothing.” I shook my head.

  “That was some bruise she got falling off that horse, but she says she feels fine,” his delivery was casual.

  Gripping the edge of my desk, I sat up straight. “Scarlett fell off a horse and the camp didn’t call me?” My voice rose an octave.

  “I guess I wasn’t supposed to say anything. She’s fine, Tara.”

  “Wes, show me that picture.” My hand was outstretched for his phone.

  Scrolling through their text thread, he came to the picture and handed me the phone.

  “Oh my God, she should have been x-rayed,” I gasped, looking at my daughter’s purple thigh.

  Scrolling down the thread, I was amazed at their rapport and the wonderful advice he was giving her on friends, life and boys.

  “And who is this?” I turned the phone around to show him a picture of a boy.

  Wes laughed, “That is Cameron.”

  “Cameron?”

  “Yeah, Cameron lives in New Hampshire and is captain of the camp soccer team.”

  “And I assume my daughter likes Cameron?” I asked.

  With a shit-eating grin, Wes filled me in. “I guess you could say Scarlett and Cameron are an item.” He just sat there smiling at me. “If you weren’t holding my phone I’d take a picture of you right now to send to your daughter. Subject: Freaked Out Mother.”

  “I can’t believe I don’t know any of this.” I think Wes finally read the sadness in my eyes. “She used to tell me everything.”

  “And she will again, Tara. I think she’s just excited to get a male perspective on guys. I’m a safe place that’s not mom or dad.”

  I nodded. “Well, thank you for being there for her. I really do appreciate it.”

  “And honestly, I didn’t realize she wasn’t sharing some of this stuff with you. But now that I know that, if it’s anything important, like falling off a horse or falling in love, I’ll make sure you’re aware of it.”

  “Thank you,” I began to say, as his phone buzzed in my hand. The screen flashed Keiko. “Oh, for you.” I awkwardly handed his phone back to him.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  I suddenly felt like the outsider in my own office. Do I give him privacy? Step out into the hall?

  Wes’ demeanor changed at lightning speed, a crease forming between his brow as his spine stiffened and the tic in his jaw pulsed.

  The tsunami of tension from across the de
sk slammed me unexpectedly and I knew I needed to vacate immediately or I was somehow going to go under. Standing, I grabbed my cell and came around my desk toward the door. Wes’ right hand shot out, grabbed my forearm and held me there. It was in that moment that I realized he was not pulling me to safety but using me as an anchor and I threaded my fingers through his, squeezing his hand tightly.

  “That’s fine,” his tone denoted anything but fine. “Just make sure everything is out by the time I get home today. And I mean everything, Keiko. Garbage comes tomorrow.”

  Holy shit.

  “Well, clearly that is too much of an imposition on you and Lord knows, I would hate to impose.” I hoped never to hear him use that tone on me.

  He sat listening for a moment and then finally said, “Are you done? Because I am.” And clicked off his phone.

  This was like watching a train wreck and I just wished I was a few car lengths back instead of getting a front row view of the carnage.

  Leaning back in his seat, Wes shook his head and smiled. “She was supposed to drive Stacy to chemo today and hang out and wait for her while I was at this meeting with our fabric supplier. She felt that it was too much of an imposition and more than she’d signed on for in our relationship.”

  Giving his hand another squeeze, I weighed in. “Well, she just showed you all you needed to know about her.” Probably not smart to trash his girlfriend, but I didn’t care.

  “She sure did.” Looking over at me, he smiled. “It’s strange, but I feel nothing. I just want her to go.”

  “She doesn’t deserve more than that.”

  Wes squeezed my hand. “You speak truth, woman.”

  And we both laughed.

  “Crap, I need to call Julien and let him know I won’t be meeting him.”

  “Hey, hold on a second,” I interrupted him. “How about if you keep your meeting and I take Stacy to chemo.” I didn’t know I was going to offer until the words were out of my mouth. “I definitely owe you one.”

  “Tara, you owe me nothing. Taking Scarlett to the dance was my pleasure.”

  I had to laugh. “Well, I don’t know that taking Stacy to chemo will be a pleasure, but I’m more than happy to help you out here.”

  His eyes crinkled as that smile took over his face. “She’s going to shit when she sees it’s you.”

  Swinging his hand, I laughed. “I can’t imagine it will make her wish she’d been nicer to me. Don’t tell her, I can’t wait to see her face when I show up.”

  “Tara, I owe you.”

  “There’s no debt between friends. Just don’t hesitate to ask when you need me, okay.”

  This was a small price to pay for the friendship and stability he had selflessly been providing to my daughter.

  I let Chris know I was leaving the office and made a few stops for supplies before heading home to pick up my car and go get Stacy. Pulling up in front of a 1940’s red brick house, I wondered if this was where Stacy and Wes grew up.

  Climbing the three steps to the front door, I could not suppress my smile. I rang the bell and waited. Oh, this was going to be good.

  The shock in Stacy’s eyes when she flung open the door made my day. Expect the unexpected.

  “Not Keiko,” I exclaimed with false cheer.

  “Fuck. You keep turning up like a bad penny. Didn’t I get rid of you like fifteen years ago? So, where the hell is that bitch, Keiko?” I had officially been greeted by Stacy Bergman.

  “Bitch be gone.”

  “Gone? Like she’s meeting one of her twelve-year old looking friends for lunch or gone, like you should be?”

  I laughed. “Shit, Stacy. It’s good to see some things never change. Hey, you are damn lucky your brother is in the garment industry, so he can get you free scraps of fabric for your head.” I motioned to her scarf covered head. I guess I had been expecting her long thick dark brown hair and the paisley head covering was the harsh reality simmering beneath our banter, one that caused a jagged ache. Both for Stacy and Wes.

  “Fuck you, Tara. So, where the hell is Keiko?”

  “Gone. And Wes had a meeting out by the airport, so you’re stuck with me today.”

  “Ugh,” said Stacy, grabbing her purse. “And I thought cancer was bad.” She blew by me on the front steps, heading for my car. “Come on already, we’re going to be late,” she barked at me.

  How the hell did she get such a terrific brother, I wondered?

  Much to Stacy’s chagrin, there were empty lounge chairs in the infusion room and a very sweet nurse who invited me to come in. I sat silently as they readied her port and the nurse asked questions.

  “So, how did you feel after the last infusion?”

  “Tired. More tired than I’ve felt with previous infusions,” Stacy shared her side effects.

  “I’m not surprised. As you know from your last round, it tends to be cumulative. How severe has the nausea been?”

  “Days two and three are my worst.”

  “Do you need anything for it?”

  “No, I think I’m still pretty good with my Compazine.”

  “Are you eating?”

  “I try.”

  “Drinking plenty of water?”

  “Yes.” Stacy rolled her eyes at the nurse.

  “Just looking out for your well-being. Any mouth sores?”

  “No.”

  Listening to the litany of questions, I was sad for Stacy, that this was her reality.

  “How often do you come?” I asked.

  “Every three weeks. But I only have a few more to go.”

  Nodding, I took in the room. Leather recliner chairs lined three walls. There was a large TV high on the fourth wall playing House Hunters International, and I wished I was with the British couple looking at cave houses in Santorini.

  “Those things kind of freak me out.” I gestured toward the TV.

  “Why?” Stacy looked at the handsome couple weighing the pros and cons of three properties.

  “I don’t know. Being in a room without windows is a bit spooky and the thought of an earthquake or something and being trapped in a cave totally wigs me out.”

  “You’re weird, Tara. Look at that Infinity pool overlooking the Mediterranean. I would love to be there.”

  Digging into an oversized beach bag, I gave Stacy a mysterious smile.

  “What? What are you going to torture me with now, Tara? Besides your mere presence.”

  Laughing, “Damn woman, you are such a treat.” And I pulled out what I was looking for and handed one to Stacy.

  She looked at the paperback’s cover and flipped it over to read the blurb on the back.

  “Is that Claudia Bustamonte’s new book?” A fiftyish woman was getting her infusion three chairs down.

  “Yes,” I nodded. “It is.”

  “I just read her Time Slips Away Trilogy. I could not put it down.”

  “I loved that series.” I agreed with the woman.

  Looking at the copy in my hands, Stacy commented, “So, you bought us the same book?”

  “Yes, I thought we could both read it and then we’d have something to talk about.”

  Before she could answer, the other woman chimed in, “What a great idea.”

  “Would you like my copy,” I offered her. “I’ll just download it on my phone and read it there.”

  “I couldn’t,” she began to protest.

  Getting up from the lounge chair, “Please, it will be fun to all do this together. I’m Tara, by the way.” With a smile, I happily handed her my copy.

  “Well, thank you so much, Tara. I’m Andie.”

  “This will be fun to talk about.” Andie’s smile was beautiful. “Will you be here with us in three weeks?”

  “I could be,” I answered with a shrug of my shoulders, looking over at Stacy.

  She was already on chapter one when I sat back down. “Ugh. You’re actually a nice person. No wonder why my brother likes you so much,” she mumbled.

  My day had ju
st been made.

  It was about 8 P.M. that evening when I heard from Wes.

  “Hey, I just wanted to thank you for today. I hope she didn’t give you too hard a time.”

  I laughed, “She’s as ornery as I remember her.”

  “Oh no, that bad?”

  Pouring a glass of red wine, I moved toward my couch as if it were an oasis in the Sahara, kicked my shoes off and spread out. “Nah. Not too bad at all. So, how are you? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I got home and as she promised, all signs that she’d ever been here, are gone.”

  “I’m sorry, Wes.”

  “Getting dumped is no fun, but honestly, Tara, this has been over for a while. I knew she didn’t have any place to go, so I didn’t push it.” He sounded tired.

  “I guess she found a place.” The minute it came out of my mouth, I hoped it didn’t sound snarky.

  He laughed and I was instantly relieved that he didn’t take it that way. “Thank God.” He paused for a moment. “I would like to thank you for today. Do you have plans Friday night?”

  I could feel my cheeks making my eyes crinkle. Was Wes Bergman actually asking me out on a date? Never did I ever think this would happen. “I don’t know. Do I?

  “You do.” And I could hear him smile.

  “What am I doing Friday night?” To say I felt giddy would be an understatement. I had wanted to spend time alone with this man from the night I met him, but that was a dream I was convinced would never happen in this lifetime. And now, what was this? Was it really happening?

  “You’re having dinner with me on my boat. I’m going to fire up the grill and cook for you.” The man sounded proud.

  “You have a boat?” This was a surprise, but having met him on a boat, I was excited to be on a boat with him again. I probably should have been more surprised that he was going to cook for me. Frank had never even scrambled eggs for me.

  “I do,” he laughed. “After a certain windjammer trip, I made myself a promise that I would buy myself a boat as soon as I could afford it.”

  “Well, I would love to have dinner with you on your boat. What can I bring?”

  “Just you. I’m at the Brewer Capri Marina up on Manhasset Bay. I’ll text you over directions and a map to the boat. Eight o’clock work for you?”