Spring, The Twosies

by Josie Brown

  Her smile, given to Lorna’s two closest friends, was tepid at best. When Ally declared, “It’s always great to see you,” Eleanor couldn’t keep the frost out of her voice as she replied, “Even when my daughter is at my side?”

  To her surprise, instead of guiltily scurrying away, Ally took her hand and, in a gentle murmur, declared, “No one really believes Bettina knew of Art’s connivances. But she’s still here, and that makes her an easy target for people’s anger.” Ally hesitated, then added, “Granted, it would help them to see her for who she really is if she treated others with the same high level of respect she expects from them.”

  Eleanor knew she was right: Bettina was her own worst enemy.

  As hoped for, Lorna was the last to arrive. She was completely surprised. In fact, she was moved to tears.

  Eleanor watched as the women chatted comfortably with her, and with each other. The hugs they gave Lorna were genuine, just as the smiles given her were warm and adoring.

  On the other hand, their interaction with Bettina was deferential, but cursory at best.

  As Lorna opened her gifts, her laughter and gratitude were effusive and genuine.

  Eleanor knew she should be happy for Lorna. At the same time, she wondered how many of these same women would be at Bettina’s surprise party a mere ninety minutes later. The party’s pace was so leisurely and they all seemed so comfortable in Lorna’s presence that she doubted that any would want to leave.

  Kelly had no qualms lying to Kimberley about attending Lorna’s shower. In fact, she wouldn’t have missed it for the world—not because she gave a damn about Lorna, but because she knew she’d enjoy watching Bettina’s envy over her sister-in-law’s popularity.

  She was sadly disappointed. Bettina seemed oblivious to the goodwill coming Lorna’s way. Her usual fierce pride was subdued to a dull numbness.

  Hmmmm, Bettina must be upset about something, Kelly realized. Good. The response to her own baby shower will hit her doubly hard.

  She made a point to walk in front of Bettina, who at least had the energy to scowl at her.

  That’s my girl, Kelly thought.

  She didn’t plan on staying long. After tossing her gift on the table with the others (matching aden + anais Onesies, albeit one pink, one blue), she said a quick hello to the guest of honor. Thank goodness, Lorna was surrounded by well-wishers, giving Kelly the cover she needed to slip away quickly without the drudgery of making small talk.

  So that she’d be noticed by enough of the other guests, she roamed deep within the thick crowd so that Eleanor wouldn’t see her before she left a moment later.

  Bettina was surprised when, just seventy minutes into the party, Eleanor suggested that they take their leave.

  “But Lorna hasn’t even cut her cake,” Bettina pointed out crossly.

  “I know, dear. But we have an errand to run downtown, and we must be there within a half-hour,” her mother insisted. “Give Lorna a quick kiss goodbye, and I’ll thank our hostess.”

  As she made her way to Jillian, she glanced around the room. Eleanor didn’t know what Kimberley Savitch looked like. For that matter, she didn’t know if she’d recognize Kelly Bryant Overton, considering that she hadn’t seen her in over a decade.

  Asking Jillian to point them out would give her something civil to say, she reasoned.

  Eleanor found her in the kitchen, placing pink and blue cupcakes on a tiered silver platter. “Bettina and I are leaving,” Eleanor announced crisply.

  Jillian looked up, surprised. “So soon? But—”

  “Sorry, it can’t be helped. We have a conflicting engagement.” As you well know, since you’ve done your best to ruin it.

  Jillian nodded slowly. “So sorry to see you go.”

  “By the way, was Kimberley Savitch here today?”

  Jillian thought for a moment before shaking her head. “She did get an invitation, though. And she RSVP’d.”

  Interesting. “How about Kelly Overton?” Eleanor asked.

  “Yes—but she stayed less than a half-hour, as I recall.”

  “A conflicting engagement, I imagine,” Eleanor replied pointedly.

  Jillian sighed. “I know. Saturdays are always busy!”

  “Don’t bother to walk us out,” Eleanor said stiffly.

  Jillian smiled as she wiped a speck of icing off her finger with the tip of her apron. “I hope to see you soon, Eleanor—when things are less hectic.”

  As if she’d been slapped in the face, Eleanor recoiled. How dare she pretend so blatantly!

  Jillian was too busy stacking the cupcakes to realize that Eleanor had stormed off.

  * * *

  2:26 p.m.

  Kimberley cursed the throngs of awed tourists who thought nothing of stopping in the middle of the crowded crosswalks in order to take a picture of yet another one of San Francisco’s eye-popping views.

  In the two-mile drive between her home in Pacific Heights and downtown, she must have slammed on her horn at least a dozen times, screaming, “Move it, you moron!” to the culprits, despite the fact that they couldn’t hear her through her raised window.

  By the time she tossed her car fob to the hotel’s parking valet, it was already after two-fifteen. She flipped open the trunk in order to grab her shower gift: a Kate Spade diaper bag. She then ran as fast as her Louboutins would allow to the reception desk of the Palace Hotel’s celebrated tea room, only to wait impatiently behind four parties, none of whom had reservations.

  By the time she reached the receptionist, all she could do was stammer, “I’m with the Overton party! We have a two-thirty reservation! Please—take me to our section as quickly as possible!”

  The receptionist frowned as she scanned the reservation list. “Could it be under another name?”

  “Oh…Yes! Savitch! Kimberley Savitch.” The woman looked again. This time she nodded. “Follow me.”

  Once a cobblestoned courtyard that received the broughams-and-sixes of San Francisco’s elite during the Nineteenth Century’s Gilded Age, the tearoom was now the centerpiece of the historic hotel’s enormous lobby, boasting an immense glass atrium roof above its six stories.

  Most of the enormous room’s tables sat four. However, long rows of tables lined the back and sides of the tea room, where many large parties were already seated: mostly women, enjoying trays laden with golden scones, tiny sandwiches, sumptuous savories, colorful petit fours, and flaky pastries.

  Kimberley looked for familiar faces. Seeing none, she asked the receptionist, “Where is my table again?”

  “Right here.” The woman pointed to a small round table in the middle of the room that accommodated only three chairs. A tea service had already been set up, along with similar fare, including tiny blue cupcakes.

  “But…but the reservation is for a party of…” Kimberley hesitated because Kelly had never told her how many people had RSVP’d to the invitation.

  “Yes. Right here it says three guests.” The woman pointed to her chart.

  Just Bettina, Eleanor, and me? Not even Kelly?

  Why, that bitch!

  Confirmation came with the arrival of another hostess, who was ferrying the Connaught women to the small table.

  From the look on Eleanor’s face, she was just as stymied as Kimberley.

  Kimberley’s lip quivered, despite her gallant attempt to smile. “Ah! So happy you could make it,” she proclaimed much too loudly. Despite her sweaty palms, she held out her hand to Eleanor. “I’m Kimberley Savitch.”

  Warily, Bettina asked, “You invited my mother and me to tea?”

  “Um…yes! To celebrate the baby.” She pointed to her gift, now on the table.

  Still shocked, Eleanor asked, “Where are the others?”

  Bettina’s stare went from her mother to Kimberley. “What others?”

  “It was supposed to be a—a baby shower. One hundred invitations went out—all to club members…”

  Kimberley didn’t have to point out the obvious:


  No one else had bothered to come.

  Eleanor frowned. “I’d at least expect Kelly Overton to be here!”

  Kimberley’s eyes opened wide.

  Bettina frowned at her mother. “Why her, of all people?”

  “Well, she is your oldest and dearest friend,” Eleanor countered. “And she assured me—”

  Bettina snorted. “Why would she be here, when she was having so much fun at Lorna’s shower?”

  Kimberley exclaimed, “Kelly was there?”

  “Why would I lie?” Bettina muttered.

  “But, darling, if anyone would be here, it would certainly be her,” Eleanor countered. “Why, our families go back years—”

  Bettina’s cackle stopped her mother cold. “Oh, Mother! Are you truly so clueless? Everything that comes out of Kelly’s mouth is a lie. She only thinks of herself, and will step on anyone to get what she wants!”

  Eleanor’s brow arched angrily. “Pardon my naivety. And you’ve expressed your opinion to her?”

  “Trust me, I have, in no uncertain terms,” Bettina assured her.

  “Then, I can’t blame Kelly for deserting you. Except for this poor wretched thing, you’ve alienated everyone in your life—even your oldest, dearest friend.”

  I’m wretched, all right, Kimberley realized. How did I let Kelly do this to me—yet again?

  “I feel a headache coming on. I’m sure your one dear friend will be kind enough to see you home when you’re through with your tea.” Eleanor stood up and walked away.

  “Mother! Mother, please, I didn’t mean to…” Bettina stopped mid-sentence. Why bother? The din of conversation, laughter, and clinking china drowned her out.

  Bettina turned her sights on Kimberley. “Did that bitch, Kelly, put you up to this?”

  Kimberley nodded. “She hates me almost as much as she hates you.”

  A tight smile rose on Bettina’s lips. “Interesting.” She leaned back in her chair. “You know, Kimberley, I always felt you had potential, despite your inability to see beyond your carnal desires—Andy Hepburn, case in point.”

  Even in that, Bettina gets top billing, Kimberley realized.

  “Admit it—Kelly just played you for a sap,” Bettina continued.

  Kimberley shrugged. Nothing new there, she thought, albeit she dared not say it out loud. No doubt, Bettina would readily agree.

  “I also know that Kelly also has a crush on him.” Bettina smirked knowingly as she took a sip of her tea.

  “How about you, Bettina? Is your hot little affair with Andy finally over?”

  Bettina spewed her tea halfway across the table. Scowling, she growled, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “Cut the crap. Andy took pictures of you from your best side.” Kimberley craned her head around Bettina, and down toward her seat. Clucking her tongue, she added, “Well, it was your best side, nine months ago.”

  “How dare you!”

  “I dare because I saw Andy’s picture of you: butt naked.” Kimberley grinned triumphantly.

  Finally, I got to throw it in her face! Finally!

  Bettina turned beet red. “I didn’t…I never knew—”

  “Even so, I saw it in living color—particularly the pink of your cheeks.”

  Bettina slammed her fist on the table. “Why, that son of a bitch–”

  “Not to worry,” Kimberley assured her. “He no longer has it.”

  Bettina’s anger deflated into relief. “Thank God.”

  “Jade does,” Kimberley said with a gotcha grin.

  “What?” Bettina’s screech had heads turning from all corners of the Garden Court.

  “To be honest, I forwarded it to my cell phone—but then she stole it.” Kimberley pursed her lips in mock frustration. “So, tag, she’s it.”

  “You disgust me,” Bettina muttered.

  Kimberley stood up. “Your mother is right. With that potty mouth, you’ll never win friends and influence enemies.”

  Bettina blinked twice. “You’re right. I forgive you. Now sit the hell back down.”

  “Why should I?” Kimberley muttered.

  “Because we’re about to do a trade: my file folder of all your dirty little secrets for that cell phone.”

  Yes, Kimberley was intrigued. Plopping back down in her chair, she retorted, “I told you, Jade has it.”

  “Well, then you’ll just have to break in and find it. Or else, the file goes to your husband.”

  “Even if, by some miracle, I was able to get it back, why should I give it to you? The Feds have the horse statue—and the files. Or have you forgotten that?”

  “As it turns out, I may have the means to buy it back.” Bettina leaned forward. “If I do, you’re dead meat. So do yourself a favor and get that cell phone.”

  Kimberley rolled her eyes. “What am I supposed to do, burgle Jade’s house?”

  “You won’t have to. According to the minutes of the last Top Moms meeting, the Twosies have the task of hosting the parents’ Valentine’s Party. I’ll make sure that Jade holds it at her house. That way, you can comb the joint for the phone while the rest of us make merry.” Bettina stood up. “The worst thing about a pregnancy is a tiny bladder. I’ll meet you by the valet.” She sauntered off.

  At least Kelly had to pre-pay for all this, Kimberley thought.

  Apparently not—or so she learned when the waiter came with the bill.

  Chapter Nine

  Wednesday, 29 January

  8:34 a.m.

  “What do you think of an outdoor wedding?” Caleb’s question was proffered from the pantry, where he was stocking potatoes in a mesh bin.

  Jillian, who had been flipping through the mail despite the twins’ attempts to snatch it out of her hand, froze. “You mean, like in an open vineyard?” she replied hopefully.

  Gleefully, Amelia plucked one envelope without her mother noticing and ran away with it.

  Her first marriage, to Scott, had been an elopement in Las Vegas. Frankly, based on that, anything would be an improvement. Had she and Scott not been surviving on her waitress’s salary at the time, she would have loved to experience something more personable than a Vegas Strip wedding chapel.

  Caleb’s head appeared beyond the pantry door. “Yeah, well. I guess we could do it in a vineyard. But then they want a large deposit, and you have to use their caterer, and you have to buy a whole lot of wine—”

  Jillian laughed. “I take it you have problems with purchasing wine?”

  “No. My problem stems from how much of the control we lose at those kinds of venues.”

  To appease Addison’s whines to “play too,” Jillian handed all the junk mail to the toddler, who then ran off to show her sister her bounty. “So, just what did you have in mind?” Jillian asked warily.

  “I was thinking we’d do it somewhere with a gorgeous view—specifically, a view of the bay, or the city from across the bay.”

  “San Francisco is filled with venues in high rises that have water views,” she countered.

  “We’d have the same problem: controlling some of the issues that will make the wedding personal and memorable to us.”

  Jillian nodded slowly. “So, what do you have in mind?”

  Caleb thought for a moment. “I know of so many wonderful spots—in the Marin Headlands, for example; or up on Mount Tam—which have spectacular city views. Maybe I can wrangle a permit for our big day. Would you be open to that?”

  Jillian shrugged. “Sure, with some pre-established criteria.”

  He nodded. “Such as…?”

  She motioned for him to sit beside her at the kitchen’s breakfast bar, where they could both take turns rocking Scotty as he slept. “First of all, the spot in which the ceremony takes place has to be close enough to a road so that ladies in heels can walk to it without tumbling down the hill—and that includes the bride. You know, dying in a fall is an awful way to start a marriage.”

  “Agreed,” he chuckled, “and duly noted.”


  “Good. Ideally, we should be able to put chairs on this hill, not to mention a tent large enough to hold tables and chairs, so that we can serve food and drink—oh! And still have room for a dance floor!”

  “You want me to dance?” Caleb almost fell off his chair.

  “Yes, sir! And I don’t just mean some slow-moving shuffle to the bride and groom’s first dance. I want to tango! I want to salsa! I want to boogie down—”

  “Okay, yeah—‘boogie down!’ I get it! I guess I have salsa lessons in my future.” Caleb winced. “Anything else, madam?”

  “Yes. A smaller tent for the caterer—who will not be me,” she declared. “I’m thinking Alejandro Morgan, from Flores Restaurant. I hear he’ll do it for special friends.”

  Caleb nodded. “Perfect. With the number of times we’ve eaten there, we are certainly that.”

  “Also, a kiddie tent, with sleeping bags and a couple of babysitters. That way, if the toddler contingent gets tired, they have a place to nap, and someone to watch them.”

  “Gotcha.” He saluted her. “Okay, give me a week or so to do my magic.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart.” Jillian picked up the mail again and looked through it one more time. Frustrated, she threw it back on the counter “Speaking of homework, Judge Marsh was going to write me with the date and time she’ll be conducting her spot-check with the children. Barry requested a Tuesday or Thursday since the girls don’t have meet-ups on those days. I thought it would have shown up by now.”

  “I haven’t seen it, but I’ll certainly be on the lookout for it,” Caleb promised. “I assume she’s also stopping in on Rona when it’s her day to have him.”

  “Yes. That should be interesting, considering how fussy he is whenever she brings him back to us. As for Jeff, I wonder if she’s coerced him to come home yet?”

  “If not, maybe she’ll hire an actor to play him,” Caleb replied.

  Jillian laughed. “He’s such a wild card that it may not be such a bad idea.” She leaned in for a kiss. “Well, I hope we hear from the judge as soon as possible. The sooner she sees how happy Scotty is around you, me, and the girls, the more quickly we can get on with the rest of our lives.”