Chapter Thirty-One
When it came to making choices, Lexi’s life was riddled with mistakes. But moving in with Violet Cromwell was not one of them. Honestly, Lexi had never felt happier. She loved the house, but that was not all. She and Violet were kindred spirits, and they were growing to be friends as well as roommates.
Lexi did not have many female friends growing up, and she definitely did not make any working in a competitive place like the Clamshell. There was no competition or drama when it came to her and Violet. They just naturally cared for one another and were able to talk to each other like they were family. As days went by, Lexi was becoming more and more confident in her ability to find a job and eventually re-establish some sort of relationship with her son and his father.
Lexi was surprised to learn that her new roommate was a published author, and she was eager to receive her assistance in constructing a résumé. They had stayed up late the night before discussing her job options and her vocational skills. Violet offered help, but not the kind that stems from pity. She seemed to truly like Lexi and had a genuine desire to help her get back on her own two feet. Ever since her encounter with Reggie, Lexi had had difficulty sleeping, and had awoken several times in the night screaming for help, begging an unseen phantom to stop hurting her. She and Violet had discussed the symptoms of posttraumatic stress, and Violet had comforted her, sitting quietly by her side until she slipped back into sleep. Violet confided in Lexi about her severed relationship with her husband and admitted that she had been having an affair with another man. Lexi was afraid to tell anyone about Michael or Elijah, but she did tell her nearly everything else. She even told her about the drugs and the unforgettable things she had to do for them. Neither passed judgment on the other, and they got along perfectly like a pair of long lost sisters.
Lexi loved the view from her balcony. She literally felt on top of the world as she appreciated an all-encompassing view of the town of Oaksdale. Michael and Elijah were out there somewhere, and the thought of them was comforting.
A Jeep screeched to a halt on the road below, breaking her trance and interrupting the peaceful quiet of the neighborhood. A man with raven-colored hair and piercing green eyes emerged from the driver’s side and cocked his head strangely to look up at her. “Oh, my God!” she gasped. “Michael!” Without a second thought, she raced down the stairs, taking two at a time. She threw open the front door and stared straight into Michael’s eyes.
Lexi reached forward to embrace him, but he placed his hands up, as though fending off an attack. “Don’t,” he said, “what the hell are you doing here, Lexi?”
“I live here now,” she explained. “The lady who lives here is renting out some space, and I wanted to be back here in Oaksdale, with you and Elijah.”
“With me and Elijah,” he repeated, scratching his chin and shaking his head silently.
***
Michael was dumbfounded. Here was this woman, a woman that he loved, a woman who broke his heart when she left him and their young son. He was speechless. Her returning had crossed his mind a million times, but he never actually thought it would happen. In fact, he had given up on that fantasy a long time ago. All he could think to ask was, “Now?”
“I am sorry, Michael. I know I was a piece of shit for leaving. I went to rehab and…well, I’m still working on some things…but I want to see him, Michael. I want to see you.”
Michael couldn’t believe this. Of all the times for this to happen, it had to happen right now.
“Why, Lexi? Why did you give up on us?” he asked, the pain of losing her all those years ago flooding back in like it had never left.
“I never gave up on my family,” she told him. “I just gave up on me.”
Michael was still at a loss for words. But finally, the words came to him, and as he spoke, they sounded like they were coming from somebody else. “I forgive you, Lexi.”
Lexi reached for him again, but again he pulled back. “That doesn’t mean you can see Elijah. And that doesn’t mean there can be anything between us. I’m on my way to the airport. I’ll be in Chicago for about a month. Get your shit together, and we’ll talk when I get back.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
Michael turned and walked away, still baffled by this most recent encounter. Violet, Penelope, and now Lexi. For a moment, he almost wondered if he was on some demented game show in which the entire premise was to torture him. He got in his Jeep and left the town of Oaksdale.
***
Lexi leaned against the doorframe and took a deep breath. She couldn’t believe what had just transpired. She didn’t have to go to Michael; Michael had found his way to her. It is fate, she decided, and in her heart, she just knew that he would choose to have her back.
Lexi fixed herself a glass of tea and sat down in a rose-backed, kitchen chair. Violet had gone to a meeting with her editor. Lexi felt bad for being less than honest with her new friend and decided that tonight she would tell her everything, including her real reason for coming to Oaksdale.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Penelope watched as Michael pulled away. She didn’t follow him this time. “What on God’s green earth is going on?” she cried out, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
Last week she had discovered her fiancé in a hotel room with a woman she didn’t know, and then tonight she had witnessed an encounter between him and his ex-wife. Nothing made sense to her.
Maybe I’m marrying a complete psychopath, Penelope wondered. Hell, maybe he is screwing two women behind my back!
Right on cue, a faded purple Geo Tracker pulled into the driveway of the house, and as the driver emerged, Penelope simply could not believe her eyes. It was, in fact, the other woman from the Filmont Inn, and she was going inside the same house as Michael’s ex-wife! Wow, Penelope thought, my fiancé really is a sick, twisted weirdo. He’s having some sort of bizarre ménage a trois, involving his ex-wife and one of her friends!
Penelope was blown away by these recent developments. She had a million questions running through her mind. Tonight, she was going to get her answers. She put the Escalade into park and made her way on foot up to the house on the hill. She needed to talk to her fiancé’s mistress—both of them.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Penelope Pinkerton raised the nine-millimeter, took aim at her target and without hesitation, pulled the trigger. She hit her mark.
“Yes!” she cried out excitedly. Penelope removed her earmuffs and turned to smile at her shooting instructor. “I did it!” she exclaimed, beaming with pride.
“Bull’s-eye!” her instructor, Jason Stiffley, announced, pulling her paper target forward for inspection. “I don’t think you need an instructor anymore,” he said with a lopsided, toothy grin.
“A man like you is always worth keeping around,” she said, giving him a flirtatious wink. He seemed to like that comment, and he stepped aside as she brushed past him with her gun case and small ammunition bag in hand.
Shooting was exhilarating for her, and she was still coming down from the rush of adrenaline as she pulled away from the indoor shooting range. She was headed to meet some friends for lunch, which was a good thing because she was absolutely starving. The excitement from her new hobby had left her feeling giddy, and she was ready to share the news of her successful day at the range with her friends.
Penelope found a parking spot and quickly combed her sweaty hair into a high ponytail. Shooting the gun made her feel not only alive, but beautiful. She decided against redoing her makeup and headed into Jay’s Diner, walking at a brisk pace. She was disappointed to see that her friends had yet to arrive, but she settled into a corner booth on her own anyway.
A pleasingly plump waitress received her drink order with a smile. For Penelope, the waitress’s enthusiasm, which normally would seem facetious or nettlesome, was comforting. There’s nothing wrong or fake about being genuinely polite and cheerful to strangers, she realized. She didn’t want to be a cynic
anymore; she didn’t want to be like her mother. She only wanted to be happy, and perhaps, she thought, I can just fake it ’til I make it. Lately, for some reason, the sun seemed a little brighter and the grass a little greener for Penelope. She wasn’t sure why exactly, but she enjoyed having a fresh perspective.
Penelope gave a swift wave as she saw her friends stroll through the diner door. They saw her too, and waved back as they made their way over to where she sat. They slid into the booth opposite of her, and Penelope flashed a subtle smile at Violet Cromwell and Lexi Ambrose.
For an instant, as she looked into the faces of her newfound friends, everything surrounding her seemed hazy and surreal. It was hard to believe that only two short weeks had passed since she had marched up to the house on the hill, determined to have it out with Michael’s apparent mistresses.
Penelope rang the doorbell—not once, but six times. When that didn’t produce a speedy result, she began banging on Violet’s door with a closed fist. “Open up, damn it! We need to have a chat!” she shouted through the door.
***
When Lexi Ambrose opened the door, a look of confusion crossed her pretty face as her eyes rested upon this bewildered woman who was rapping on the door so frantically. The woman looked plumb crazy, but Lexi was used to crazy, so she shrugged and turned back to call for her roommate. “Who the hell…?” Violet asked, stepping forward to identify this unruly caller.
“Close the door, Laura!” Violet bellowed, seemingly recognizing the crazy woman, and she tried to slam the door closed before Lexi even had the chance.
But the woman was determined, and just like they do in the movies, she jammed her foot in the door, preventing it from closing. “Ouch!” she yelped, and instinctually jumped back, reaching down to massage her tender foot.
Instead of closing the door again, Violet opened it wide and apologized. “Are you okay?” she asked tentatively.
“What the hell’s that door made of—steel?” Penelope asked angrily, glaring at her in a classic if looks could kill kind of way.
Violet led Penelope, limping, to a kitchen chair, and Lexi went to the refrigerator to fetch ice. Penelope massaged her aching foot and frowned. “I think you broke my toe.”
Violet stared down at the foot, horrified, and the three of them were silent. All eyes were on the foot. Lexi snorted softly, breaking the silence, “It’s just a toe. She’s not going to die. Let’s not make this any more dramatic than it already is.” She raised her eyebrows at the women.
“What the hell is going on, anyway? Who are you?” Lexi asked, pointing a finger at Penelope. “And why the hell did you slam the door on her like that?” she asked, looking at her roommate curiously.
“I’m sorry,” Violet told Penelope. “I just didn’t want you to attack me again.”
“Again?” Lexi asked, looking back and forth between them.
“You didn’t tell her?” Penelope asked, and now it was her turn to laugh.
“She’s just my roommate as of recently,” Violet explained. “I just met her last week.”
“Tell me what?” Lexi asked.
Penelope erupted with laughter again. “Roommates for a week, and you’re already sharing men! That’s despicable!”
***
“We’re not sharing Michael,” Violet replied, sitting down in exasperation. She covered her face with her hands, feeling exhausted by this ludicrous inquisition.
For a moment, time stood still. And then Lexi said quietly, “What about Michael?”
Violet lifted her head from her hands abruptly. “How could you possibly know anything about Michael Sinclair?”
Lexi looked at her roommate, and then to Penelope. She backed up slowly. “Somebody please tell me what’s going on.”
“And the plot thickens!” Penelope cackled unsteadily, seemingly coming unhinged. “Let me get this straight,” she continued, “you…” she said, pointing across the table at Violet, “are screwing my fiancé. And you,” she said, pointing at Lexi, “are also screwing him, but neither of you know about it?”
***
Penelope was baffled and was beginning to wonder if she was on one of those candid camera TV shows. This didn’t seem so funny anymore. In fact, it never really was. She felt like crying, but she was all cried out. Her marriage to Michael was over, and she could feel it…all the way down to her bones.
“Wait a minute,” Lexi said. “I haven’t screwed Michael in a long time. In fact, until tonight, I hadn’t seen him in nearly a decade.”
Violet was shaking her head in disbelief. “Laura, I don’t understand—”
“Her name isn’t Laura,” Penelope announced, laughing again, heartily. “Unless that’s the stage name she’s going by these days…”
For a moment, it looked as though Lexi might tackle her, but then the look of defeat returned, and she sighed, turning to her roommate. “My name is Lexi. I’m Michael’s ex-wife,” she explained. She turned to Penelope. “Now, who are you?”
“I’m Michael’s fiancé,” Penelope muttered, “or at least I was.”
“And I guess that just leaves me,” Violet said with her head hung low. “I’m the despicable mistress.”
***
Minutes passed before anyone spoke again. It was Lexi’s voice that broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Violet. I had no idea. And I’m sorry I lied to you about my name. I just didn’t want Michael or Elijah to know I was in town yet, but I guess it doesn’t matter, because he found me all on his own. I guess…” she wondered thoughtfully, “he was probably looking for you when he rode by the house and saw me on the balcony. Stupid me…I actually thought it was fate calling.” Lexi continued to look at her roommate and friend, searching for some sign that she hated her or hopefully a sign that she didn’t.
As though reading her mind, Violet said, “I’m not mad at you, Lexi. You didn’t know.”
“I ditched the plane,” Penelope muttered, staring off into the distance.
“What plane?” Violet asked, raising her eyebrows and looking over at Lexi.
“The one Lexi sent Elijah,” she explained and turned her eyes to Lexi. “I thought you were the one having an affair with Michael, and I was so distraught…”
“How is he?” Lexi asked, realizing that this stranger was, in fact, an integral part of her son’s life.
Penelope blurted out, “He’s a terrific kid.”
“Thank you for helping to take care of him,” Lexi said, and slowly pulled out a chair so that she could join the other two women at the table. “I’ve had some pretty weird days in my life, but this one takes the cake.”
“Agreed,” Violet said, still shaking her head in disbelief.
“You know,” Penelope said, “we may be in opposition to one another, but we do have one thing in common, and that’s Michael Sinclair.”
The women stared at each other, and for a brief moment, they all felt an unexpected sense of camaraderie. Violet stood to make coffee, but thought better of it, and headed for the liquor cabinet. “Anyone care for a drink?”
Over drinks, they all came to the same conclusion. Michael would be back in a month, and he would then make his choice between them. They all loved him, and although that put them at odds, in a strange way, it was exactly what brought them together.
The women talked for hours. Perhaps it was the liquor flowing through their bloodstreams or maybe something else, but the conversation came easily and was not confrontational. Lexi was candid about her marriage to Michael, and she admitted that her choices had been poor. Despite Penelope’s knowledge about Lexi’s past misdeeds, she could not help but like the woman. She had a quirky demeanor, and she was funny—in a dark and cynical way—as was she. Lexi explained that she honestly had no idea who either of them were until today, and as she realized Penelope’s role as stepmother to Elijah, she began to ask more and more questions about him. As a mother herself, Penelope understood this mother’s love for her child and her yearning to learn more about him.
>
Penelope learned that Violet, on the other hand, was well aware of her and Michael’s engagement, and although she should have hated her for having an affair with him, it was not Violet who had pledged to marry her and remain faithful; it was Michael who betrayed her, not Violet, nor his ex-wife. She was beginning to see that they all loved him in their very own individual ways, and for some reason, this made her feel closer to these women; they understood the allure of Michael’s charm, and they all wondered what it would feel like if they lost him.
After hours of conversation and multiple cocktails, Penelope was too intoxicated to drive home. She asked for a phone book to locate a cab service, but Violet and Lexi insisted she stay. She was too exhausted and drunk to refuse the offer, and she passed out promptly under a wooly afghan on the couch in Violet’s great room.
The evening had been so unexpected and bizarre, but it would not be their last evening together. They met for dinner and drinks later that same week, and as hard as it was to believe, they did not once mutter his name; instead, they spoke of other topics; Lexi’s crazy stories about the Clamshell, Violet’s brilliant new series—which strangely enough, Penelope had read—and Penelope spoke of her daughter and Elijah.
***
Lexi stayed quiet during these moments as though she were trying to take it all in and hold on to the information as long as possible. The women were all so different; their appearances, their professions, and even their values; yet, somehow, they found some sort of common ground, and perhaps their contrasting personalities complimented each other’s.
This Is Not About Love Page 10