From Fake to Forever

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From Fake to Forever Page 14

by Jennifer Shirk


  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 naive she’d been. Why on earth had she thought he could be different?

  Her sister walked up and put her hand on her shoulder. “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. As it did with Steve, it will with Ben.”

  Missy looked unconvinced. “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 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 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.”

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

  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 wailed in way of greeting.

  Sandra let out a sigh. “Come on in and join your fellow mourners,” 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 not miserable. I’m 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. “Carol, 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 star–less 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 to visit 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. “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. “I know that already.”

  “You do?” Sandra sniffled.

  “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’d just discovered that fact for herself this very minute. Oh my goodness, I am in love with Ben! It was true. It was such an unfamiliar sensation—this combination of complete joy and utter agony. But she felt lighthearted even giving it a name. She was in love with Ben, and she missed him. But he didn’t love her back. She and Hannah were just a means to an end to him. 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 notice next time.”

  Missy gave an exasperated sigh. “She’s not crying over her eye twitch. She’s crying over Ben.”

  “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 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. Oh, don’t forget the stories Missy told us about the way he adored Hannah and would make her laugh in class.”

  Sandra took some satisfaction in the fact she wasn’t the only one who had been duped by Ben’s actions. “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 kind of 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’d 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 was never good enough for her or her daughter.

  “Well, gee, I don’t know,” he said with a heavy helping of sarcasm, “I guess she’s not into rich, eccentric playboy actors with big egos and no parenting skills.”

  “Oh, come 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.”

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

  “There you go. 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.”

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

  “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’re right. At first, I did 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 be shutting 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 think 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 in my entire life.”

  Denise furrowed her brows. “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.

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

  She cleared her throat, but her voice became weaker. “Congratulations are in order. You did it. You got the part.”

  Chapter Eleven

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

  Missy sprang into the office, wearing a long-sleeved black 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 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.”

  “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-than-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 tiptoed 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, really.

  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 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.”

  Missy nodded, and the tip of he
r witch hat drooped farther. “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.

  “I’m glad you’re doing better,” Missy said. “I’ve been so worried about you. Carol’s been worried, too. You tend to keep a lot inside. I thought, well, when you’re in love, four weeks can sometimes feel like four years.”

  Sandra exploded. “Yes! Yes! I know! Look at me, I’m a mess!” She gestured wildly to her jeans and plain white sweatshirt. “I couldn’t even come up with a decent Halloween costume. And I forgot the candy. How can we have the children trick-or-treat without candy? What was I thinking? I’m not doing fine, okay?” She flopped down in her chair and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Missy, why couldn’t I have fallen in love with a plumber instead of a famous movie star? That would’ve been a no-brainer. Everything would’ve been normal. Why can’t life ever be simple?”

  “I don’t know, honey. We don’t have control over who we love. We just…love. I think you’re—”

  Missy’s unsolicited philosophy on her love life was shortchanged when the phone rang.

  Sandra dropped her hands and automatically picked up the receiver. “Hello, Storybook Land,” she answered without enthusiasm. She listened to a woman speak on the other end of the phone then sat up with attention. “Yes. But this year is… Well, okay. Sure. Let me have your address, and I’ll send you a mailer.” She picked up a pen and quickly scribbled down the information.

  As soon as she hung up the phone, Missy asked, “What was that all about?”

  Sandra sat back and couldn’t help but chuckle—not so much from the humor of the situation, but from the absurdity of it. “That was a mother wanting to enroll her two children in our preschool.” She paused. “For next year.”

 

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