Anastasia shook her head. She picked up her plate and stood up.
I stamped my foot.
She ignored me. She stepped over the kitchen sink on her way to the living room.
“And don’t forget Shop Till You Drop in Europe,” I said, “where you and your girlfriends will get to stay in hotels adjacent to all the best shopping districts of France and Italy. And there’s also a side trip to the outlet stores in Mendrisio, Switzerland.”
The woman sighed. “It’s just so hard to decide. I mean, what if you choose one, and then you find out that another might have been even better?”
I covered the mouthpiece while I swallowed. “Here’s the thing,” I said. “Any one of them could be the trip of a lifetime.”
The woman let out a puff of air. “That’s helpful.”
I closed my eyes and visualized biking with Billy, maybe through the Chianti countryside south of Florence, stopping along the way to tour a winery or have lunch in a small ristorante. Then I pictured us biking through the winding back roads of Ireland’s rural west coast, watching sheep grazing near stone cottages, taking a break to hang out at a local pub. I mean, as long as I was with Billy, it was six of one and half a dozen of the other as to which trip would be better.
I opened my eyes. “What I’m trying to say is, when it comes right down to it, it’s not where you go, or what you do, that matters so much as who you do it with. So, as long as you’ve picked the right friends, any of our trips could work for you.”
“Easy for you to say,” the woman said. “You probably get to go on all of them for free. Never mind, we’ll figure it out ourselves.”
“SPELLING TIME,” I said to Anastasia as soon as we’d cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, and she’d finished her other homework. “Do you want to do it with me or on the phone with your dad?”
Anastasia looked at me like I had three heads. “Dad,” she said. “Don’t you have to use the phone for work though?”
“If I miss anybody, I can always call back. Just don’t take too long.” I unplugged my headphone and handed my cell to her. “Oh, and tell your dad it’s okay for him to come over on Sunday. And that Thai food is fine.”
A minute later Anastasia was sitting at the kitchen table with her pink and purple pen and a sheet of paper in front of her, laughing on the phone with Seth. “Mom,” she yelled. “Dad wants to know what kind of Thai food you want.”
“What ever,” I said from the living room. It was right next to the kitchen, and the house was so small it’s not like I needed to yell to be heard.
I was stretched out on the couch with my feet up on the old trunk. I was imagining biking through the western countryside in Japan with Billy, after we’d closed the deal for new Akira bicycle kiosks in Tokyo. We were triumphant. We were a team. We were taking a little victory tour before we headed home together.
“She likes shrimp pad thai, but vegetarian is fine if it’s too expensive,” I heard Anastasia say from the other room. “And she likes to get flowers, too. Especially daisies. You can pick them from the field next to my school. I can show you if you want.”
I sat up straight and put my feet on the floor. Surely Anastasia couldn’t possibly think that flower exchanges of any kind were in Seth’s and my future.
Anastasia and Seth moved on to her spelling words, and I tretched out on the couch again. Maybe instead of biking around western Japan, Billy and I would stay in Tokyo. I’d try to get us a deal on a romantic corner room with a view of Mount Fuji.
“Believe,” Anastasia said from the kitchen. “I believe you can live happily ever after. Believe.”
I couldn’t hear Seth’s sentence, but what ever it was made Anastasia giggle.
“Again,” Anastasia said. “Mom and I are glad you’re coming over for dinner on Sunday again. Again.”
Okay, so maybe she had a little bit of a fantasy going that Seth and I might get back together. Any kid in her situation probably would. It would just take some time for everything to sort itself out.
“Brought,” Anastasia said. “If you brought me a kitten and my own phone, I would be the happiest girl in the whole wide world. Brought.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Anastasia was a typical ten-year-old girl. She was fine.
Just to be sure, I waited until I knew she was sound asleep. Then, addict that I was, I snuck into her room to find her diary.
Dad brings a boukay of daisies for my mom
And then he moves back
Into our house
So we have to buy a bigger
Yellow house with sunny windowsils for my new pet kitten
21
“HEY, KIDDO,” JONI SAID. SHE WAS SITTING AT HER DESK with a pile of paperwork in front of her. I leaned over and gave her a hug, then rolled a chair up beside her.
“So, what do you need?” I asked.
Joni ran both hands through her crisp gray hair. “A pomegranate martini?”
“Now there’s a thought,” I said.
Joni shoved the papers aside and pulled up a file on the computer. “Can you send out an e-blast to our list about Shop Till You Drop in Europe and also make it our Web feature? I’d really like to fill that one.”
“Done,” I said. I reached for a piece of computer paper and started making notes. “Then you want me to take Costa Rica off the home page?”
“Yes, bury it. And I think we’re going to have to break down and place an ad for another group leader. We’re way over our promised ratio.”
I made another note. “Got it.”
Joni stoood up and grabbed two bottles of water from the tiny office refrigerator.
“Thanks,” I said. I opened mine and took a big sip. “So, any news on the selling front?”
“Ha,” Joni said. She put her Skechers-clad feet up on the desk and leaned back in her chair like she was twenty. “Women are still traveling, so we’re making money, but in this economy, everybody’s going to assume that if I’m selling, something must be wrong with the company. It’s going to take the right buyer.”
I didn’t know I was going to say it until it came out of my mouth. “What about Sanders Family Bicycles? You know, the company that has all the bike kiosks?”
Joni swung her feet off the desk. “Now there’s an interesting thought. What made you think of them?”
I could feel a blush sneaking up on me, so I flipped my hair out from behind my ears. “I’ve been, um, doing some consulting work for one of the owners. He’s exploring the possibility of bicycle kiosks in Japan, and it just seems like they’re a company that’s, I don’t know, open.”
Joni grinned. “Looks to me like Japan is not the only possibility that’s being explored.”
I laughed noncommittally. A part of me wanted to tell Joni about Billy, but a bigger part of me was afraid it wouldn’t hold up to the light of conversation. I wanted to envelop the whole idea of us in bubble wrap to keep it safe while it had a chance to grow.
“Moving on,” I said. I took another sip of water.
Joni was still smiling. “It’s a great company, but what would they want with GGG?”
“Well,” I said. “I hear they’re trying to balance some cuts they’ve made by investing in future growth. So, why not expand with a travel piece? They could keep GGG essentially the same, with the addition of bike tours, and also use its resources to add a new tour niche for families. Maybe pitch a special that if you take a bike trip with your entire family, you’ll get a coupon for a discounted women-only trip to recover from the experience.”
“Hmm,” Joni said. “It’s worth a shot—I’ll reach out to them.”
I felt a flash of disappointment. I mean, after all, it was my idea, so shouldn’t I do the reaching out? But, then again, maybe Billy and I should keep business out of things for the time being. We had a long road ahead of us, and we could take our time weaving our lives together into a glorious mixture of travel and fun.
Soon enough, business and plea sure lines wou
ld blur. Our blended families would get along beautifully, too, and when people asked how we handled spending every holiday traveling together to exotic locations all over the world, I’d try not to look smug.
“Well,” I’d say. “We both simply made the decision to divorce each other, but not our families. We’re actually a lot like siphonophores. You know, animals made up of a colony of organisms that work together? We’re separate, but we all still clump together.”
I could almost picture it, although in my vision Billy’s ex-wife didn’t have a face, and Seth only showed up for dinner by himself on Sundays while Billy was conveniently out mowing the lawn or something.
Joni cleared her throat and brought me back to reality. “How’s Anastasia doing with her dad?” she asked.
Anastasia’s last diary entry appeared before my eyes in bright purple. I shook my head to dislodge it.
“Fine,” I said. “Well, except for the fact that she’s fantasizing about Seth and me getting back together.”
“I’d say that’s probably pretty normal.”
I nodded. “That’s what I was hoping.”
Joni leaned forward in her chair. “But, then again…”
“What?” I said.
Joni’s watery blue eyes looked right through me. “Well, there’s always the chance that Anastasia’s right, and you will get back together. Stranger things have happened.”
I jumped to my feet. “Bite your tongue,” I said.
Joni stood up, too. She put her hands on my shoulders. “Lovey, it’s just that you’ve got to sort out the mess before you take the exit door. Otherwise you’ll only drag it with you, and it’ll clutter things up at your next stop along the road.”
“Of course,” I said. “I mean, I know that.”
Joni gave me a kiss on my forehead.
I gave her a quick hug.
I screwed the cap back on my empty water bottle and threw it in the recycle bin. “Okay, that’s it,” I said. “I’m out of here. My big mean boss just gave me a ton of work to do.”
ON MY WAY HOME, I made quick stops at the library and the grocery store. I pulled into my driveway minutes before Anastasia’s bus was due to arrive.
My new railings were fully installed. “What?” I said out loud.
I put my car into park and climbed out. The white paint could use some touching up in a few places, but other than that, they looked amazing.
Not only did I have crisp white wooden railings leading up to my front door, but my whole house suddenly looked adorable. It actually looked like a house I would have bought even if I wasn’t looking for the cheapest one I could find.
I couldn’t stop looking at it. This was a house that would hold a perfect little family: perfect mother, perfect father, 2.5 perfect little children. They’d spend Saturdays raking the yard and power washing the siding, and when they were finished with the weekend chores, they’d go out for pizza and a movie on Saturday night.
Or they’d leave the well-adjusted, never-been-traumatized perfect little children with a babysitter who was on the honor roll at school, and fluent in at least two languages. Instead of plugging them into the TV so she could sneak her boyfriend into the house, the babysitter would play games with them all evening. Old-fashioned board games like Chutes and Ladders, Scrabble, Monopoly.
I unloaded everything from my car, happy for a chance to check out the railings again with each trip past. I knew Seth was responsible, but I was kind of half imagining that Billy had been the one to put them up. He would have noticed them propped up against my house when he picked me up for our bike ride, and then somehow managed to sneak over while I was out to put them up to surprise me.
Life with Billy would be like that: both of us solidly and predictably there for each other, but also always on the lookout for ways to surprise and delight.
I put the groceries away, then went back out to sit on my front steps and admire the railings some more.
“Hey, girlfriend,” Cynthia yelled from about three feet away.
I jumped. “Geez,” I said. “I didn’t even see you.”
“I know. I could have knocked you over with a fender.”
“I bet,” I said. I nodded in the direction of the railings. “So, how do you think they look?”
Cynthia gave me a thumbs-up with the hand not corralling her bangs.
The bus rolled down the street and stopped in front of my house. “Hey,” Cynthia said. “You don’t want to go away for a spa weekend, do you? I mean, I’m all for family bondage and everything, but the kids are wearing me out.”
“Sure,” I said. “Any time you have a client looking to get rid of a gift certificate, let me know.”
The bus driver opened the door, and I waited for a glimpse of Anastasia. Cynthia’s youngest, Parker, stepped off first. He ran over and threw his backpack at Cynthia, then took off in the direction of their house.
“Parker,” she yelled. “Get back here right now!”
Parker kept running.
Cynthia bent down and picked up the backpack. “Don’t be surprised if you find yourself looking for another backpack to throw, young man,” she yelled.
She turned to me. “I almost picked you up some vertigo blinds my client was getting rid of this morning, but I think we should only go for high-end hand-me-downs.”
“Vertical,” I said. I mean, how could Cynthia build her business if no one corrected her when she misspoke?
“Vertigo,” Cynthia said, “is what they give me. And, just for future reverence, if you absolutely have to wear that shirt with those pants, stay home.”
22
LOY KRATHONG IS TRADITIONALLY CELEBRATED IN THAILAND on the full moon night of the twelfth lunar month, which usually falls in November. Even though it was May, Anastasia and I decided to make it our dinner theme anyway, since it would go with the Thai food Seth was bringing.
I loved the beauty and simplicity of Loy Krathong. Loy, sometimes spelled Loi, means “to float,” and krathongs are the lotus-shaped receptacles that hold lighted candles and incense as they drift on the water. During the festival, people all over Thailand gather beside canals and rivers, light their candles, and add coins to their krathongs. Then they silently make a wish, place their krathongs in the water, and let them go.
It had been Anastasia’s idea to fill the farm sink sitting in the middle of our kitchen floor with water. She made a krathong by gluing some packing peanuts to a piece of Styrofoam and then painting her creation until it looked loosely like a purple lotus. She placed some floating candles, shaped like little sunflowers, around the krathong, and then pulled a dandelion flower apart and sprinkled its narrow yellow petals over everything.
The water turned purple almost immediately. It was probably going to be a nightmare to clean up, but I had to admit it looked sweet in a messy kind of way. I also thought it was an added bonus that Cynthia’s sink had finally come in handy for something other than tripping over.
“Make a wish, Mom,” Anastasia said. She handed me a penny from the penny dish in our kitchen junk drawer.
I closed my eyes. I wished for Anastasia to sail smoothly through the rest of her life. I wished for Seth to never disappoint her. I wished to somehow find a way to connect my life to Billy’s. I wished for a plumber to install the kitchen sink.
It was probably more than a penny’s worth of wishes.
“So, what did you wish for?” I asked when I opened my eyes.
“I can’t tell you,” Anastasia said. “Or it won’t come true.”
She moved into the living room to sit on the back of the couch and look out the window while she waited for Seth. I hadn’t been able to talk her out of wearing her fanciest dress. It was pink and linenlike, sleeveless with a wide white collar and a white satin bow. We’d bought it when Anastasia played a princess in her class play last year.
It was getting snug around the armpits, and I’d barely managed to zip up the long zipper in the back, so I guess it didn’t really matter if
she got Thai food on it. And she really did look like a princess. I’d put her hair into a high ponytail and tied three long pink ribbons around the elastic. They fluttered when she moved her head, adding to the regal effect.
Seth wasn’t due to arrive for another ten minutes, but it still broke my heart to see Anastasia watching and waiting for him. I couldn’t help imagining the day he just wouldn’t show.
She’d be sitting and sitting, checking the big old clock on the living room wall again and again. Then she’d start making excuses for him—maybe he’d lost track of time, maybe he was stuck in traffic, maybe he couldn’t find his car keys.
Anastasia would begin to worry that Seth had been in an accident. And then, as the minutes ticked into hours, she’d get really worried. Finally, she’d insist I call the police and the hospital, and the whole time I’d be thinking: I just knew he’d let her down. I knew it.
“He’s here!” Anastasia yelled. She jumped off the couch and practically flew out the front door.
I slid my feet into an old pair of flip-flops and followed at a more dignified pace.
By the time I got outside, Seth had already scooped Anastasia up into a big hug. He put her down on the ground, and she twirled around in her party dress. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled a long woo-hoo.
Anastasia curtsied the way she’d curtsied in the play. “It’s a little bit small because we bought it in third grade. I had to have it, because I got picked to be a princess.”
“I can see why,” Seth said. “You look exactly like a princess. Did you ever see Star Wars?”
“Only like a hundred times,” Anastasia said. “But I’ll watch it again if you want. I’ve seen the original trilogy and The Clone Wars. It’s not as good, but at least it’s animated.”
Seth leaned into his car and pulled out a large take-out bag. He reached back in and handed Anastasia a shiny purple gift bag.
He finally noticed me. “Hey,” he said. He was wearing jeans and another button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, this one with soft taupe pinstripes, so subtle they almost weren’t there.
Claire Cook Page 11