The Role of a Lifetime

by Jennifer Shirk

  Well, there was no use brooding over it again. She’d have to make it up to her daughter somehow, do something special for her. As if that could so easily erase the hurt of another man abandoning her. But it was all that was in her power to do at this point.

  She knew she looked a mess, but with her hand on the knob, she drew in a deep, controlling breath and swung open the door.

  Missy stood opposite her with Chinese food take-out and a deep frown. “What did you do to poor Ben?” she asked.

  Sandra rolled her eyes, grabbing the bag of food out of her sister’s hands, and turned away.

  Poor Ben? What a laugh. That was almost as funny as allowing herself to be sucked in by his overt concern to help her school, or to be charmed by his ridiculous pirate eye patch, or far more hilarious, allowing herself to care so deeply about him.

  Missy followed her in, not missing a beat. “Ben looked heartbroken, Sandra. His leaving seems so sudden, too. You guys didn’t have a fight, did you? We didn’t even get to throw him a farewell party.”

  Sandra dropped the bag on her counter and glared at her. “Farewell party? Give me a break. That man doesn’t even deserve a farewell kick in the—” She glanced at Hannah watching TV in the next room. “I didn’t have anything to do with his leaving, if that’s what you’re hinting at. But I’m glad he’s gone.”

  Missy’s depressed expression turned into shock. “What? You’re glad? But I thought—”

  “Yeah, well, so did I.” She drew in a shaky breath. “It was just as I thought. Ben didn’t really care about me. He just cared about what I could do for his career.”

  Sandra looked away, afraid the tears would start again if she met her sister’s sympathetic gaze any longer. She was such a fool. She had really thought Ben was a different kind of man, that she and Hannah could actually come first to someone like him. Her heart gave a painful squeeze at how wrong she was. Why on earth did she think he could be different?

  Her sister walked up and put her hand on her shoulder. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” she said brusquely, picking up and fumbling with one of the cartons of food. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. No harm done. Life goes on. It did with Steve and it will with Ben.”

  Missy looked unconvinced. “Well, if you say so.”

  “I do. Let’s not talk about him anymore, okay? He’s out of our lives. Let’s just eat.” The last thing she wanted to do was eat. But pasting on a bright smile, she bit into an egg roll and swallowed, despite it tasting like papier-mâché.

  Hannah walked into the kitchen and gave her aunt a hug. “Something smells funny,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  Sandra finally felt like smiling. “Aunt Missy brought over some Chinese food. Do you want to try some?”

  Hannah shook her head and held up a small bucket. “Can you open my Play-Doh for me?”

  Sandra took the container from her daughter’s little hands. Automatically, her thoughts flew to Ben and how sexy he’d looked with Play-Doh clinging to his hair when he had babysat for her. Heat rushed to her face. Damn him and his phony-baloney babysitter act! Thanks to him, she’d never be able to look at that neon-colored mush again.

  “What are we going to do at school now, Mommy?” she asked.

  Sandra’s eyebrows went up. “Same thing we always do, why?”

  “But Big Bens isn’t going to be there anymore. So what are we going to do now?”

  Sandra shot a worried glance at Missy before answering. “I—I don’t know, sweetie. Maybe I’ll schedule a police officer to come by with his patrol car and loud siren. He can talk to you about how you’re not supposed to talk to strangers. How does that sound?”

  Hannah’s mouth puckered. “But I don’t want to talk to strangers.”

  “Well, good. You’ll be ahead of the class, then. Here.” She handed the clay over to her daughter. “Now scoot, and keep that stuff off the rug.”

  Sandra shook her head at her daughter’s retreating back. “Did you hear that?” she asked Missy once her daughter was out of earshot. “Hannah can’t stop thinking about Ben.”

  “Yeah, but what about you?” Missy asked, not hiding her concern. “Will you be able to stop thinking about Ben, too?”

  Sandra didn’t know, but she was saved from answering when another knock sounded at the door. All too willing to push aside her thoughts of Ben, she rushed out of the kitchen to answer it. This time it was Carol, carrying a large pizza box and looking every bit as pained as Missy.

  “I can’t believe Ben’s gone,” Carol said in way of greeting.

  Sandra let out a sigh. “Come on in and join your fellow mourner, then,” she muttered. She shut the door behind them and led Carol into the kitchen where Missy had already set out plates and napkins on the counter.

  Carol stopped and marveled at the takeout spread. “Hmm, I guess we both had the same idea.”

  “Misery loves food,” Missy said with a sheepish smile.

  “Misery? Oh no, I’m just ticked. I didn’t get a chance to give Ben my note.” Carol set down the pizza box and dug into her purse. “Here,” she said, whipping out the envelope.

  Sandra stared at it a moment, afraid of seeing any more personal reminders of Ben. But when Carol jangled the letter in the air with impatience, she reluctantly took and opened it. “This is just a list of names,” she said with mild surprise.

  Carol jabbed a hand on her hip. “Not just a list of names. It’s a carefully compiled list of single male celebrities I would like to be introduced to by Ben, whenever and as soon as possible.” She reached for a fortune cookie. “Since you’re seeing Ben now, the least you could do is help your movie-starless friend out.”

  Missy waved spread hands at Carol, but only Sandra was aware of the gesture. “Uh, Carol, now isn’t the time—”

  “What do you mean?” Carol asked, concentrating on unraveling her tiny fortune. “Now’s the perfect time, especially with Ben being so utterly smitten with your sister. I bet she’s even going to New York with him this weekend.”

  Sandra couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t pretend she was in control any longer. She was a wreck. Never again would she see or talk to Ben, and an overwhelming feeling of loss and unhappiness over the situation struck at her heart. So she did something she hadn’t done in front of anyone in a very long time. Hanging her head, she began to cry.

  Missy rushed over and threw her arms around her. “Oh, honey, don’t let it get to you,” she said soothingly.

  “What did I say?” Carol asked in alarm. “What did I say? Was it something I said?”

  Sandra looked up through a blur of tears and shook her head, giving in to one last attempt to restrain her feelings. “No, it’s—”

  “She’s in love with Ben,” Missy interjected.

  Carol still looked confused. “Yeah, I know that.”

  “You do?” Sandra sniffled.

  “Well, it’s hardly front-page news,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  It was Sandra’s turn to be confused. How did everybody know she was in love with Ben? She just discovered that fact for herself this very minute. Oh my goodness, she loved Ben! It was true. It was such an unfamiliar sensation—this combination of complete joy and utter agony. But she felt lighthearted just giving it a name. She was in love with Ben and she missed him.

  But he didn’t love her back. She held her head as grief settled back over her.

  “It was hard not to know how you feel about Ben,” Carol added. “Your eye twitch kind of gave it away days ago.”

  Sandra’s mouth dropped open. “You know about that, too?”

  Carol’s eyes flew to Missy. “Oops, was I not supposed to tell her about that?”

  Sandra exploded into tears again.

  “I’m sorry!” Carol cried. “I didn’t mean to notice your eye twitch. I promise I won’t look next time.”

  Missy gave an exasperated sigh. “She’s not crying over her eye twitch, she’s crying over B
en.”

  “Oh boy, she must have it bad,” Carol said in a hushed tone. “I’ve never seen her lose control like this. I mean ever. But I still don’t understand what the problem is.”

  Missy cleared her throat. “The, uh, problem is—”

  “The problem,” Sandra interrupted, tired of being talked about as though she weren’t in the room, “is Ben doesn’t want me. He doesn’t care I’m an emotional mess right now. He doesn’t care that I miss him terribly already, and he doesn’t care about my daughter. All he cares about is getting that stupid movie part. At this rate, I doubt I’ll even get a mention in his Academy Award speech.”

  Carol snorted. “Impossible. Ben is a sweetheart, and he cares. He cares a lot. I saw the way he looked at you.”

  Sandra took some satisfaction in the fact she wasn’t the only one who was duped by Ben’s actions. “Well, I suppose he’s a very good actor.”

  “I just can’t believe it.” Carol grabbed back her list of names and crumpled it up. “I don’t want to meet any of his friends after all. I’m so sorry, Sandra. I really hoped he was the one for you.”

  Sandra used a napkin as a tissue and sighed. Unfortunately, so had she.

  Ben was getting dizzy watching his agent pace around her office as though she were devising a nuclear arms treaty. Denise obviously wasn’t taking the news very well. He wasn’t sorry he’d told her the truth, but he had to tell her he had fallen in love with Sandra, despite all her opposition to it. Now that he’d gotten it off his chest, he felt like a free man.

  A free, miserable and totally depressed man. A man whose life had been turned upside-down by a wonderful woman—who, by his own doing, now hated his guts.

  Denise finally stopped moving and glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “You said it wasn’t good for my career to get involved with a preschool teacher.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know you were in love!” she cried. “I just thought this was kidding-around flavor-of-the-month stuff. This changes things. This changes everything.”

  “Oh, hell,” he muttered. He sank into one of her black leather chairs and rubbed his head. “No, it doesn’t change a darn thing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She doesn’t want me, Denise.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t make me repeat it.”

  “Well, what is wrong with her?”

  He almost laughed, if he hadn’t felt like crying. He wondered the exact same thing about Sandra when she hadn’t been impressed with his superstar persona. Now he knew there was nothing wrong with her. He was the one with the screwed-up priorities. The reject of the equation. The one who wasn’t good enough for her.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said mockingly. “I guess she’s not into rich, eccentric playboy actors with big egos and no parenting skills.”

  “Now just hold on… Who told you you were eccentric?”

  He shot her a withering glare. He wasn’t in the mood to have his joking attitude thrown back in his face.

  She cracked a smile. “I’m sorry, Ben. But your reasoning is ridiculous. You’re one of the sweetest, most generous people I know.”

  “Yeah, she told me that once too.” But that was also before she accused him of being a liar and told him she never wanted to see him again.

  “There you go. So how could she not want you? I’ll wring that perfect swan-neck of hers.”

  “Wait. I thought you were against this relationship?”

  “I was, but that was when I thought you were up to your typical womanizing ways and she was a money-grubbing celebrity-chaser.”

  He blew out a long breath. “Great. This is just great. This is all your fault,” he accused, jabbing his finger in the air at her. “Maybe if I had told Sandra how I felt sooner, when I wanted to, she wouldn’t hate me as much.”

  “Well, how was I supposed to know you weren’t trying to play that poor girl?” she retorted.

  “Oh. Now, she’s back to being a poor girl?” He jumped up and started pacing the floor himself. “You’re like the wind. Why did I even listen to you in the first place?”

  “You did it because your career is important to you. Look, even your publicist agreed with me. We all knew you weren’t looking to settle down.”

  Crap. Denise was right. He wasn’t looking to settle down. Acting was always more important. Marriage and family never seemed to fit with his career agenda. But now that he was away from Sandra and Hannah, he couldn’t imagine one without the other. “You know,” he sighed, “you’re right. At first, I did, uh, just want to…dabble with Sandra.”

  Denise made a face. “Dabble? Is that what you’re calling it these days? You mean you wanted to have a meaningless two-week affair with the mother of a young child and then drop her like a box of scorpions.”

  He cringed. “I like my way of putting it better. But yes, I suppose your definition would be accurate. It’s kind of weird, but I don’t think I would have gotten to know Sandra as well as I did if it weren’t for you. I stopped trying to seduce her and became her friend instead. Maybe I wouldn’t have fallen in love with her otherwise.”

  Denise tapped a finger on her lips. “Hmm. So…maybe instead of blaming me, you should be thanking me.”

  “And maybe you should shut up.”

  “Right.”

  “What am I going to do, Denise? I can’t stop thinking about her. I have to make it up to her somehow. But I don’t know if she’ll even speak to me again.”

  Denise slowly sat down, staring at him with a quizzical look. “This is really it for you, isn’t it? You’re really in love. Wow. It’s so…not you. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you want marriage and the whole white-picket fence thing.”

  Yeah, join the club.

  But he did. He wanted it all. With Sandra. If she was willing to take a chance on him, he was willing to try.

  “This feels so strange,” he confided, “but I can’t remember ever wanting something this much before in my entire life.”

  “Oh.”

  Ben looked at her. “What, oh? That’s all you have to say? Some friend you are. At least try to cheer me up.”

  “Well, I did have something to tell you that I thought would make you feel better. But now, I’m not so sure. Maybe the news can wait.”

  “No, no. Is Todd doing better at football? Tell me something. Anything. I need a distraction from Sandra and all the reasons I’ve gotten myself into this whole stupid mess.”

  Denise hesitated, folding her hands then unfolding them. Then she cracked her knuckles.

  “Well? Just tell me,” he demanded. “What is it?”

  “Um.” She cleared her throat but her voice became weaker. “Congratulations…you did it. You got the part.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sandra had just finished drawing a pink glitter heart on Hannah’s cheek when she heard her sister enter the school. “Hey, Missy,” she called. “Come in and see the princess.”

  Missy sprang into the office, wearing a black long-sleeved dress, and raised both hands to a lime-green face. “Oh, my goodness!” she cried. “Hannah, you look great. Wait until all your friends see you. You’re going to be the most beautiful princess at the Halloween party.”

  Hannah blinked up, her mouth hanging open in a dazed “O”. “Aunt Missy, your face is all green. You don’t look pretty at all. Ha-ha, I look more beautiful than you!” she said with a loud laugh. Then she held out her fuchsia skirt and spun around, giggling even louder when her dress stuck out like an open umbrella.

  Sandra laughed, too. “There’s nothing quite like humble royalty.”

  “I’m not supposed to be beautiful,” Missy said, pretending to be insulted. “I’m supposed to be a witch.”

  “Hmm. Well, green’s definitely your color.”

  Missy smirked as she put on a black pointy hat that looked as if it’d seen better days. The hat had lost more than a little of its point, but Missy’s less-th
an-pressed look hadn’t deterred her from throwing herself into the Wicked Witch part. She’d even blackened two of her teeth and had a huge wart on the tip of her nose.

  “Mommy, I just love you.” Hannah wrapped her arms around Sandra’s legs, giving her a tight squeeze, and then looked up with blue beseeching eyes. “Can I go play now? I promise I won’t get my dress all dirty.”

  She smiled and couldn’t resist fussing with her daughter’s swept-up hair, not because it needed it, but because her insides brimmed with love for the one little person who brought her so much joy. It only made her heart ache all over again when she realized how much she’d wanted to share that joy with Ben. “Of course, Princess. Just be careful you don’t trip on your gown.”

  Hannah bunched up her skirt in her little fists and tip-toed out with extra care. After she left, Missy folded her arms and assessed Sandra’s casual attire. “What are you supposed to be dressed as?” she asked.

  Sandra puffed out her lips in thought. “A jilted woman with a broken heart?”

  Missy didn’t find that comment amusing. But neither had she.

  Sandra opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a bunny-ear headband. “Okay, then, I’m a rabbit.”

  Missy eyed the ears and then eyed her. “That’s pathetic.”

  With a sigh, she tossed the ears on her desk. “I’m sorry, but my heart really wasn’t into dressing up. That’s the best I could do for myself. Take it or leave it.”

  Missy nodded and the tip of her witch hat drooped further. “How are you holding up?”

  “Ben’s only been gone two weeks. I’m doing fine.” That statement was far from accurate. Her doing fine implied she was going about her life as best as she could, maybe even pretty darn well. Wrong, wrong. Ben wouldn’t be around to make her laugh—or even fume—with his charming antics anymore. She missed his little pep talks, too. He’d had a way of smoothing out the stresses in her life, always making her feel in safe hands. Now without him, she felt less than whole.