Maybe he was prepping fruit for tomorrow. Calm yourself.
With a shake, I grab a stack to bring to the kids. “Think they’ll actually help so we can be out of here on time?”
Henry follows suit, making sure he has the larger stack of the two. “Possibly. Though it’s late and they could be tired.”
When we open the office door, they’re sitting around the table, still playing their game, though their eyelids look heavier and droopy.
“Who wants to help with a project?” Collective groans sound, with the exception of Cassie, who always loves to help. She perks up and is practically bouncing in her seat. The other three follow suit, feeding off of Cassie’s energy.
Henry opens up a menu and demonstrates what needs to be done. It’s pretty simple. Jacob organizes the four of them into an assembly line and before we turn to leave, they already have three menus completed.
“That was a good idea, using free child labor,” I say as we walk back to the kitchen area.
He nods. “It’s a simple enough project for them. And it should bore them enough so they’re ready for bed.”
“Do you always have good ideas like that?”
A quiet chuckle escapes him. “Not many people accuse me of having good ideas.”
I jerk my head back toward the office. “That was a good one.”
Henry shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “You doing okay?”
I pull my brows together. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. You seem different.”
A lazy smile pulls my lips up. “Yeah, I’m doing good. I’m actually going out Friday night with a few girls from the office. First time in…well, first time.” I try to make my laugh sound easy but it comes off as forced.
Henry sees right through it. “That’ll be fun for you. Get out and relax a little.” He opens his mouth again, as if to say something else, but snaps it shut.
What else did he want to say? I give him a few seconds to see if he wants to change his mind. When he says nothing, I decide to press the issue.
“You wanted to say something else?”
We stare at each other, feet separating us as he decides whether to say what’s on his mind.
“It’s not my place.”
I place a hand on my hip. “Well now you have to spit it out.”
Blowing out a breath, he takes his hat off to run a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t know your home life, nor do you need to tell me, but from what I’ve seen of your husband, he strikes me as someone who doesn’t let you do much.”
“You noticed that?” My voice is quiet, almost mouse-like. Shame drags my spirit down. If he noticed it, did everyone else? Is that why people stay away from me?
“It’s hard not to. You’re everywhere with your kids and he’s never around. So, my two-cents is you do all the parenting while he runs around and does his own thing.”
Transparent. That’s what I’ve become. Here I thought I was doing a good job of hiding things from the public, only to learn everyone saw through me anyway. I must be a joke.
“That’s over-simplified, but not completely off the mark.” No sense in lying to him. It serves no purpose.
Henry holds his hands up in defense. “Look, I don’t want to pry, but again, Mike seems selfish, so I’m glad he’s allowing you this one night of freedom.”
Allowing me. That almost makes me laugh. But my home failures don’t need to be public fodder. No one needs to know what’s going on at our house.
“It is.” Still can’t make my voice stronger, but it’s better than the broken noise that was coming from it before.
With a nod, Henry drops the subject and makes his excuses to go back in the kitchen. I’m not sure how I feel about his line of questioning. I know he’s a concerned friend, but it seems like there was more behind it. I’m not going to dwell on it. No more reading between the lines or imagining things that aren’t there.
Once everything is clean and set, the kids come out of the office with the newly stuffed menus in hand. We put them back behind the hostess stand and in the server area. Lauren and Luke run back to find Henry while Jacob and Cassie gather up all their stuff.
“Ready?” I ask, stifling a yawn.
“So ready,” Cassie says. Jacob nods and we start walking toward the employee door. Henry and the kids follow behind. Four little voices fill the frigid air as we walk to our cars, once again parked right next to each other. I don’t even notice I’m doing it when I pull in.
The kids pile into the car after I unlock it, but something holds me back. Henry’s standing at the back of his car, helping Luke buckle his seatbelt. Once the door shuts, a silence falls between us.
“You’ll have to tell me all about your girl’s night when you come in on Saturday,” he says finally.
I smile, even though my face feels like it’s about to shatter from the cold air. “Hopefully I’ll remember it.”
“You will. Just remember to take Advil and water as soon as you get home.”
Not that he needed to remind me. I’ve done it enough times for Mike that it’s second nature now. “Hopefully I won’t need them, but I’ll try to remember.”
He playfully shoves my shoulder with a laugh. “Humor me and do it.”
“Okay, fine.”
Once again, Henry opens my door and waits until I’m situated before shutting it. I pull away when he gets in his car and choose not to look out my rearview mirror this time.
“Tonight was fun,” Cassie says, rubbing her eyes.
“I’m glad you had fun.”
“I really like Henry.” Her lids are practically closed when I look back at her.
Me too, kid. Me too.
Makeup. Check.
Hair done. Check.
Dress…
Three outfits span the length of my bed, each completely different than the other. One I haven’t worn since Jacob was born. Since I’ve never had a reason to go out, I discovered that I don’t have anything for a girl’s night out. Turning to the full-length mirror, I hold them up one by one.
Too funeraly.
Too matronly.
But this one? It was hiding in the back of my closet, completely forgotten over time. Hopefully it’s still in style. Yeah, it’s shorter than I prefer and deeper cut in the bust, but it does make my ass look good and hides the mom pouch that I never seemed to get rid of after Cassie.
Speaking of…
“Can I help?” Cassie bounds into the room and leaps onto the bed, her brown hair bouncing around her shoulders. Since I’m standing in my bra and underwear, I knew Jacob would never come near. He’s perfectly content staying in the basement until I give him the okay.
“Sure.” I point to the different dresses. “Which one do you like most?”
She taps her index finger against her lips, pursing them while humming in thought. If there was ever a child like me, she’s it.
“That one.” And with great taste. The short one is my apparent winner. Maybe if I wear my boots with it, it’ll feel like there’s more dress than what there is?
As if reading my mind, Cassie runs to my closet and reappears with shoes in hand. Not the knee-high boots I was thinking. No, these are my strappy heels that I practically broke my neck in a few years ago.
“These will be perfect.”
I raise a brow. “You sure? They’re kind of high.”
“Positive.” How can I say no to that face?
I pull the dress over my head, careful not to mess up my hair. Cassie holds out the shoes so I can step into them. With a final check in the mirror, I turn to face my fashion consultant with my arms spread wide. “Well?”
She holds up her hands as if pretending she’s focusing through a camera lens. “You look like a model.”
Doubtful, but I’ll take the compliment. “You’re too sweet.” I kiss her forehead and she jumps off the bed, landing with a thud. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay tonight?�
�
Cassie nods and follows me into the kitchen. “Yep. And we’re going to be good for Heather. Promise.” She holds up three fingers, giving me a salute.
I’ve only had Heather watch the kids twice before, but she lives a few houses down and has always volunteered to take them to the park in the summertime so I could get a break. Reminds me of when I was fifteen. Too young to drive and get a real job, but loved the easy money that came with babysitting.
On cue, the doorbell rings. “Cassie, you know you’re not supposed to answer the door,” I call after her. She stops dead in her tracks, giving me a sheepish look. It doesn’t stop her from hanging out behind my legs as I open the door.
“Come on in, you’re right on time.” Heather barely makes it three steps before being assaulted by Cassie and her nonstop questions.
I’m not sure if she’s taken a breath, nor have I heard her talk so fast in my life. Jacob must be aware of Heather’s presence because I can hear him pounding up the stairs, heading straight for us. Pretty sure he has a small crush on her.
Somehow I’m able to drag everyone into the kitchen and quiet the kids long enough so we can talk.
“So I’ll only be out for a few hours tonight. Nothing major. Here’s where I’ll be.” I slide the paper across the counter.
Heather nods with a smile. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Wentworth. We’ll be fine.”
“And you have my number?”
She pats her phone on the counter. “All programmed in. Is Mr. Wentworth going with you?”
I shift from foot to foot. “No, Mr. Wentworth is out of town, so if there are any problems, he won’t be available.”
Heather nods and Jacob does as well. Cassie hasn’t said anything more about Mike’s disappearance, but Jacob’s happiness is apparent. He’s been well-behaved and listening all week long.
Another knock sounds at the door and I kiss the kids goodbye, reminding them bedtime is in an hour and to not beg Heather to stay up later. She nods and assures me everything will be fine.
When I open the door, Brenda greets me with a smile and whistle. “You clean up nice.” I laugh and thread my arms into the sleeves of my jacket. We haven’t had any snow yet, but the temperature is still cold enough to make me think it may drop any minute. Unfortunately, with my hair perfectly curled and actually behaving, it means I’m going without a hat or earmuffs. Hopefully we won’t be spending too much time outside.
We climb into her car, which is gloriously warm, and pull away. For a second, guilt slithers its way into my heart. This is the first time I’ve ever left my babies to go do something for myself unless you count spending more time than necessary at the grocery store late at night when Mike was home.
“I’m really glad you decided to come out tonight,” Brenda says as she parks the car. Golden is a high-class martini bar, one I’ve never ventured into before. When Brenda told me where we were starting, I was nervous. But after a few days of working on me, she was able to calm my nerves and actually get me excited for tonight.
I’m not prepared for what greets me when we walk inside. It’s designed almost like a split level house. Just a few steps separate the large entry where the coat room is from the lower room–where it’s nothing but high-top tables and the main U-shaped bar–and the upper seating area–filled with leather half-moon booths and gigantic ottoman tables with glass tops. Soft jazz filters in through the speakers placed in the ceilings, melding perfectly with the muted lighting and 1920’s décor. Almost like stepping back in time. The server’s attire doesn’t quite match the theme era, but they’re classy with black pants and black and white bustiers.
Nothing I could ever pull off, even in my dreams. But the staff is young, college-age kids. And since the major college is about a half hour away, it makes sense. One of the nice benefits of this small town: we have some appeals to the larger city that brings people to us, rather than the other way around all the time.
We go to the upper level and find the girls waiting for us. They raise their glasses and yell our names. Another first for me. No one has ever been excited to see me.
“Finally! You both have some catching up to do.” Ann Perkins waves down a waitress, who promptly greets us.
“Welcome to Golden. My name is Jasmine. Can I start you off with one of our signature martinis?” I look up from the drink menu to see her smiling tanned face and perfectly coiffed blond hair. Absently, I catch myself fixing my hair and pulling at the hem of my dress.
Brenda points to her menu. “I’d love this lavender one.”
Which leaves me. I scan the menu, knowing nothing about any of the drinks. Jasmine must see my distress and helps point out a few of her favorites.
“I think you’ll really like this one.” Smoke on the Water. Hmm, I can tolerate all the flavors. Vanilla vodka and pineapple juice sounds good to me.
“I’ll try it.”
Jasmine smiles and heads back to the bar area, leaving me to fend for myself with the others. All of them I know from PTA functions. We get along fine, but I’ve never taken the time to get to know them.
“I’m so glad you decided to come out,” says Tricia Banks.
“Me too. I love your necklace,” I say, gesturing to her neck.
She presses a hand against the teal-colored stones. “Thank you. It was a gift from Patrick last Mother’s Day.”
I nod and force a smile. Let’s see, my gift from Mike was…oh, that’s right. Nothing.
Jasmine brings Brenda and I our drinks. When the glass is set in front of me my jaw drops in disbelief. It’s fizzing. With bubbles and a small stream of smoke. I’ve never seen a drink like this before.
“You’re going to love it,” she says before leaving us alone.
Karen Davey raises her glass and we all follow suit. “To girl’s night.” A round of whoops and cheers follows the toast. As soon as the bubbling liquid hits my tongue, my brows raise to my hairline. It’s sweet, yet has a hint of tartness, which is needed since the rim is coated in coarse sugar.
“What do you think?” Ann smiles over the rim of her glass.
“It’s good.” I take another drink and smile as the warmth starts spreading through my veins. Vodka and I don’t always get along, so we’ll see how many of these I’ll be able to tolerate.
Conversation soon turns to our kids, which is easy to follow and contribute. Ann and Karen commiserate over the new kindergarten teacher while Brenda, Tricia, and I discuss the upcoming fundraiser. Fundraiser means discussing the meal plans, which means…
“Henry was so generous in donating all the food. I can’t believe he offered to do that for us,” Tricia says.
Brenda nods. “I don’t know him well, but from what people say, that’s the kind of person he is.”
Ann joins in. “He really is. Have you seen him with his kids? Talk about ovary explosion.”
I quickly drain my glass and signal for another one, this time going with the Sexy Devil. Something tells me I’m going to need the extra courage for this conversation.
“You work with him now, don’t you?” Brenda turns to me with a sly smile.
Heat quickly floods my cheeks, though it’s hard to tell if it’s from the alcohol or the sudden thrust into the spotlight.
“Um, yeah. He’s my boss.”
“What’s he like to work for? I can’t see him as a hard-ass or a slave driver.” Karen takes another sip of her drink before leaning forward.
I shake my head. “He’s a good boss. Fair, very particular about how things are done, but who can blame him. It is his restaurant so he wants to make it the best possible experience for everyone who walks in.”
“I bet it’s sexy as hell to watch him work with his meat,” Ann smirks. “Come on, share the details. He’s probably one of the most eligible bachelors in the school.”
“Yes, do tell,” Tricia says. “Does he ever get dirty back there?” She wiggles her brows suggestively. I cough to mask my laugh.
“Well, not really. He’s pr
etty clean and precise. But watching him plate foods after flipping them around in the pans is almost magical.”
Karen sighs. “He’s the reason I go in there. And I love the fact that he takes the time to come out and check on the tables, making sure everyone is enjoying his food. If he’s that attentive about work, can you imagine what he’d be like behind closed doors?”
“I’m thinking he has his own chocolate station in his room, ready to lick it off every inch of skin from whoever is lucky enough to grace his bed.” Tricia chews on the end of her plastic sword with a devilish gleam in her eyes.
“Or,” Brenda pushes her drink back, “he will make you breakfast the next morning, wearing nothing but an apron and a smile.”
Ann slaps her hand on the tabletop. “Yes! Just without his hat. I bet he has the thickest hair imaginable.”
“You guys, I can’t listen to this,” I say, my voice cracking at the end. “How am I supposed to work with him now that these images are in my head?”
Karen blinks at me several times. “You can’t honestly say you’ve never had these thoughts after being around him for so long? If I was in your position, I’d have him pinned against the wall, making him into dessert.”
Tricia slaps her arm. “You whore, you would not. Craig is basically at your beck and call. Like you’d throw that away for a fling.”
Karen sighs dreamily. “Yeah, but a girl can fantasize.”
“Too bad we’re all married. He’s a catch,” Ann says. Everyone nods, except me. I can’t argue with them since I’ve had these thoughts more and more. At least I know I’m not the only one who has.
Several more rounds show up, along with a few flatbread appetizers and sushi rolls. Yet another first. Mike hates anything that’s strange to him. I take a bite of my first-ever lobster roll.
Even though it’s cold and I had to psych myself up, it’s surprisingly delicious. Add a dab of wasabi and everything explodes in my mouth. The extra tang and spice open my taste buds to something I never thought I’d enjoy.
My cheeks flame and tingle as I use the drinks to cool off, which is counterproductive. Did someone turn the heat on too high? It’s weird. My face is on fire, I feel like I should be sweating, but my skin is still cool to the touch. I’ve been drunk twice in my life, both times were after breaking up with my first two boyfriends. The last time was when I met Mike.
I Don't Regret You Page 11