“You are the worst liar in the world. Why were you really at the condo the other day?”
“He told you. He asked me to come over and sign some papers, and I was grocery shopping in the area. The stores near Steve’s house are horrible and I needed Whole Foods and…you’re right, I shouldn’t have gone there, but it was an entirely innocent visit.” I instinctively touch my nose to see if it’s grown since we sat down.
“Uh, huh. That’s why you’re so jumpy. Let me tell you what I see, even though I’m just a kid.” She makes air quotes to emphasize her perceived status in my eyes. “You are jealous of my mother’s memory, Steve is fucking all of that up royally, and the hot ex is a big temptation. He isn’t a native Portuguese speaker, right? No accent, so I suspect he uses the language as a way to sex you up?”
Well, fuck me in the eyeball. Where do I even begin to respond to all of that? “Are you sure you’re not much older than seventeen?”
“It’s the therapy. The rest of you should sign up. So, tell me the truth. Are you screwing this guy behind Steve’s back?”
I lean forward and exhale. “No, Megan. I promise I’m not, but you’re partially right. I am jealous of your mother’s memory and I am not proud of that fact. I don’t know how to handle all of this.” My lip quivers and I bite down on it to stop any potential tears.
“You know, my mother wasn’t perfect. We fought when I got to my teen years, but I’ve learned that’s pretty common. I went to live with my dad, and that freak show Crystal. I was pissed at my mom for a long time for letting me go, and for just being…a pain in the ass. But she loved me. She loved Steve. And yeah, he’s fucking it all up. I figured that since I’m the kid here it wasn’t my place to move in and tell the adults how to fix everything, but clearly you all need the help.”
Beaten down with humiliation I reply, “I hate to say it, but I think we do. And the last thing we want to do is upset you.”
“The house is ridiculous. That bench outside by the pond is downright creepy. She’s not buried out there and he’s got what amounts to a tombstone on display. My Grandma Kathleen can be overbearing, to say the least. I feel sorry for her and I try to be nice, but I have to avoid her because my therapist says she won’t allow me to heal.”
“So what do you think we should do?”
“Let her go. We can keep a few pictures up, if it’s okay with you, but I have all of them on my laptop. I have things of hers and I would like the art work. I just want everyone to be fucking normal. One house full of people who are all in control of their shit. Is that too much to ask?”
I laugh and cover my mouth with my hands. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry for laughing, but you’re very feisty.”
“Yeah, I get that from my mom. She sure as hell didn’t take any shit from anybody. Unfortunately she also didn’t know when to let things go. I’d like to think if she is somewhere looking down on us, that she has let go now, and she’s having fun wherever she is. We can do the same thing.”
“How do you not cry while talking about this?” I say as I blink back tears.
“Eventually you just get tired of being sad.”
I get up and offer Megan my hand. I put my arm around her tiny shoulder as we walk to my car. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a nut.”
“Hey, I’m used to it. All the adults in my life are nuts.” She opens the car door and adds, “But I was counting on you being the only one not added to the squirrel’s collection.”
We laugh on the way home and discuss the party. My fears are melting away, even though I know Steve and I have much work to do on our relationship. Megan saw through Luke’s bullshit, but she believes me, and she should. I have no intentions of cheating on Steve, and I am disappointed in Luke. He was never that manipulative. I should lend him the name of Megan’s therapist.
Megan promises to talk to Steve about the house. She said maybe we can talk to him together, so he can’t wonder if one of us is lying or exaggerating the other’s feelings. Back at home, I am still aware of Noreen staring at me, but just this once I am able to offer her a silent thanks for raising a good daughter.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
“Honey, I need to head over early with the cake. You can ride with the kids separately in a little bit. Is that okay?” I stand in the doorway of Steve’s study and watch him check his e-mails.
“Sure, Love, that’s fine. Are you sure you don’t want to ride together, though? Since it isn’t a surprise anymore?” He gets up and walks over to the door, wrapping me up in a big hug. “I’m really sorry about that, by the way.”
“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault. And if you think Kathleen should be invited, I can’t say anything. She won’t bother me in a big crowd. She’ll probably only stay a little while, if she comes, right? And if anything we can get Dylan to play some of his metalcore music and that will clear the old people out.”
He pulls back, holding my shoulders. “Metalcore?” His forehead creases show his fatherly concern.
I stifle a laugh. “It’s fine. It’s just a bunch of ridiculous screaming, but apparently a lot of kids like it. It’s like a more forceful hardcore. Or is it some other metal? I don’t know, the point is that it’s all harmless. Dylan’s a nice kid.”
“I guess you and Megan have been talking a lot. That’s good. She needs a mother figure.” He flinches and says, “Is that okay to say that? I don’t want you to feel obligated to be a mother.”
I lean in and kiss him, rubbing his back. I gaze down his shirt and rub the hair on his chest, which always makes him laugh because I do it in a seductive, but silly way.
“I don’t mind being a mother, as long as it doesn’t make me any less desirable.” I kiss him again and say, “Hmm…too bad we don’t have more time before the party.”
He swats my ass, and sends me back towards the kitchen. “Get my cake over there, Woman,” he jokes. “Seriously, the kids will be back any minute. Go along and work your party magic with Violet.”
I walk towards the kitchen and he says, “Hey, you’re sure you won’t be mad if Kathleen shows up?”
“No, its fine. Don’t worry about anything. Tonight is going to be nothing but fun. Happy Birthday, Sweetie.”
I am practically whistling and skipping as I gather my party supplies. The cake is a masterpiece, if I do say so myself.
I arrive at the clubhouse, and Claire and Brandon are waiting for me in the parking lot, soon after joined by Violet. Gina and Tony are coming a bit later, after they drop off Gina’s son with his father.
“Wow, that cake is amazing. If I tried to make that, it would look like someone made it with their feet.” Claire marvels at my creation, and calls Violet over to see it. Brandon shakes his head at his wife’s comments as he begins to set up the bar area.
“It is beautiful, Rebecca. Steve is going to die when he sees it.” Violet bites her lower lip and frowns. “I’m sorry. That’s not your favorite reference.”
I smile and say, “No, don’t be silly. Everything is fine.”
I set the cake down at the center of the dessert table and the two little blondes disappear into the kitchen to begin setting up the catered food in sterno trays and platters.
The tablecloths need to be placed on the tables, which Violet set up last night. I wonder how she did all of that by herself. She must have had help. My mind wanders across the condo complex. No. No way. Luke is the laziest man alive. She must have asked some of the guys who help her with wedding set-ups.
The guests should be here in about twenty to thirty minutes. The DJ arrives and I show him where to set up. Things are going quite smoothly, but all the while I have this nagging feeling that something is wrong. It’s probably just because I’ve had so much to deal with in the past couple of months. I keep expecting disaster, but tonight is going to be fun.
I can forgive Eve for outing the surprise, and I understand that she sympathizes with Kathleen. I still wish I knew what Steve meant on the phone, and who he was talking
to. Elsa’s barking made it impossible to hear, so how can I worry about something that is probably nothing?
This is why snooping and eavesdropping are such bad habits. Megan is right—we will attack the issues at home as a united front, and Steve will be thrilled to make his two favorite girls happy. It will ease his guilt to know Megan is okay, and I know he wants what’s best for all of us.
Megan and Dylan arrive, and they find me to say hello, and ask if they can help with anything. Dylan happily trots off to help Brandon with the bar, and Megan tags along with me.
“I thought you guys were coming with Steve?”
“No, he said he had something to do before we left.” Megan points to the large wall facing the dance floor. “Why is there a movie screen in here?”
“Oh, I think they rent this space to groups for business meetings. You know, they use overhead projectors. Wait, that was in the old days. No, they use computers now.”
“Okay, Grandma Rebecca.” Megan playfully punches my arm and laughs as she sprinkles multi-colored confetti on the tables.
Before I can ask what Steve had to do, the guests start arriving. I have to admit—now that the surprise is ruined, I can actually relax. It’s so difficult to time surprises so that none of the guests are arriving when the guest of honor is being brought to the scene. Plus he would have known it was a party by the venue. I am not creative enough to pull off a surprise party. I should be thanking Eve.
Speaking of Steve’s sister, she just came in, with Kathleen. Really, did she drive her here? I scold myself for thinking such unkind thoughts. She’s an old lady, and maybe she can’t drive at night. I already have trouble with night vision.
Steve arrives, and everyone yells surprise anyway, and he begins hugging people and shaking hands. He makes his way to me, smiles and kisses me. “This is fantastic, Love. And I may not be surprised, but I was surprised when I found out you were planning a surprise. That sort of counts.”
I wrinkle my forehead at him and say, “You really do have a way with words, Honey.”
The music is playing—the DJ is doing a mix of tunes for all the generations present. The food is a hit. Italian catering is the way to go. Everyone loves it and the menu is so simple.
Violet and Claire have been a huge help, and now Gina and Tony are here, too. They are doing a great job of urging people to dance. Our Meetup friends, like Sherry, Andy and Diane, don’t need any encouragement, but some of Steve’s work colleagues and neighbors are less adventurous. Before long Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers are leading the masses in the Wobble and the Biker Shuffle. It’s fun to watch people laugh and fall over their own feet.
Kathleen does look particularly disturbed by the somewhat suggestive dances, but really, it’s all innocent fun, and it’s not a little kid’s party.
After the Biker Shuffle finishes, the DJ pauses and starts typing on his laptop. He motions to Kathleen, and she walks over to his table and takes the wireless microphone. My heart races and I scan the room for Steve.
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. As you all know, we are here tonight to celebrate the fiftieth birthday of my wonderful son-in-law, Steven Hollister.”
He’s technically no longer her son-in-law. Okay, why does she still have the mic? Give it back to the DJ. Come on…
She walks back to the table, says something to Joe, the DJ, and then resumes her speech. This time my heart almost does me in. Accompanying her words is a picture of Noreen on the big screen, as a baby.
“Many of you probably don’t know that my late daughter, Noreen, God rest her soul,” she pauses to bless herself and mumble some prayer, “would have been forty this week. Her birthday was only a few days after her beloved husband’s.” She beams at Steve and he manages a grin.
I can’t look at him, because if his eyes tell me he knew about this, or helped plan it, I don’t know if I can go home tonight.
Kathleen goes on to talk through a slideshow of Noreen’s life, explaining each picture. A few guests are starting to look uncomfortable, squirming, going to the restroom, and refilling drinks. Some are starting to whisper and stare at me. And Steve. Megan looks stricken and Dylan is keeping her steady with his hand on her petite shoulders.
I’m sweating now, and I reach up to wipe my upper lip, taking a drink to quench my dried-out mouth. She has to be wrapping up soon.
Eve. This is all her fault. She stands near the DJ table with a stupid smile plastered on her clueless face. All of these people should be locked up. This is a birthday party, not a funeral.
“And finally, here is a picture of Steve and Noreen on their wedding day. This month also marks their tenth wedding anniversary. How romantic that they married in their shared birthday month.” Kathleen raises her glass in a toast. “To Steve and Noreen, may their true love never die, and may they be reunited in heaven.”
The murmured sounds of the bewildered guests are overshadowed by the piercing sound of glass shattering on the tile floor. I jump back to avoid being splashed with wine. I examine my hand and realize that I’m the one who dropped the glass. With all eyes on me I am frozen, and then suddenly powered by anger and revulsion, I run out the front door, grabbing my purse. I hear Steve yelling for me, but he can’t seem to break away from all the guests. I presume some of them are congratulating him for his heavenly union, and others are asking him what the hell just happened.
There is no way Kathleen did that on her own. She never would have known there was a screen in that room. Or the name of the DJ to set that up in advance. But how would Steve know? I can’t put all the pieces together, but the puzzle is clear. Steve is either a liar and he’s still in love with Noreen. Or he’s just a spineless idiot who can’t stand up to the women in his family. Either way, I have to save myself from any further humiliation and heartbreak. If I don’t leave, I might beat that old woman over the head with the microphone.
In the parking lot I spot him. Leaning up against his fancy sports car. Violet must have told him about the party. How would he know I needed him at this exact moment?
I take a step off the sidewalk and freeze again. Luke isn’t waiting for me. Within seconds Violet comes flying out the side door of the building, and rushes to Luke, who grabs her and locks her in a passionate and very familiar kiss.
I think I’m only talking in my head, but apparently not, based on the reaction. “Mother fucker! Can this night get any worse?”
They both look up and Violet looks whiter than usual, while Luke remains his typical, smirky, jerky self.
I walk towards them, partially because I want to yell some more, and also because my car is right behind Luke’s.
“Well, it looks like something I tried to put together worked out tonight. How ironic that you have already hooked up with Violet, when just a few days ago you were performing the naked serenade for me.” Violet is now the color of snow, with smeared red lips.
Luke remains silent, but Violet reaches out. “Rebecca, I’m sorry, but I thought you said you were happy with Steve, and you had no interest in getting back with Luke. You’ve been trying to set us up the whole time.” She looks at him for answers, but none are forthcoming.
“Don’t be sorry, and I don’t want to get back with him.” I can’t believe how quick I was to want to seek comfort with this sneaky jerk. I glare at Luke and continue to address Violet. “While you were sneaking out to rendezvous with Lover Boy here, you missed the main event of the night—Kathleen’s loving tribute to her daughter, and my boyfriend. It was like a birthday funeral anniversary nutfest!”
Luke finally bothers to speak up. “Becca, are you drunk? Do you want to sleep it off—?”
“Where, Luke? Your place? Or maybe I could stay at Violet’s while you use my bed. I am NOT drunk. I don’t drink, but I need to start.”
I turn and stare at the building. No one has even tried to follow me, but I bet my phone is chock full of texts. “I’m going home. Wherever that is.”
Where is home? Not Steve’s. Not my con
do. I am not going to my parents’ house, and my family is actually coming tonight. Probably on their way. They’re just showing up late because one of the kids had another party tonight. Claire can explain to them what happened. I may end up in her guest room before this night is over.
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
By the time I punch the code in the front door—the one with both of their birthdays, I am teary-eyed and livid. The animals come to the door to greet me, but scatter once they hear the door slam and get a whiff of Mommy’s fuming energy. I would never take out my frustrations on them, but they’re smart to give me some space.
I can either search the house for alcohol or pack a bag. I choose the latter. I can go to a hotel. Blue and Jewel will be fine here until I can figure out what to do. Poor Megan. She was just starting to feel a small measure of stability. I begin to stuff essential clothes in a suitcase and root around in my bathroom for a few cosmetics and toiletries.
Was that the doorbell? Who was brave enough to follow me home? I bet Claire and Gina. They probably dragged their men with them, too. Or maybe they stayed behind to keep the sharp objects away from Steve. But if he planned that with Kathleen, would he have expected a different outcome? Unless what she delivered was not what they agreed upon.
The doorbell ringer isn’t relenting, so I throw my underwear on the floor and march to the foyer.
I open the door with Elsa trailing, and find Eve. I take in her moistened eyes, and watch her wring her hands. I start to close the door without saying a word, and she leans forward with her hand pressing against her cheek. “Please, Rebecca, let me in. I need to explain what happened. Steve is very upset.”
“Really? That’s just fucking great, Eve. Thanks for coming to tell me something I don’t care about. At all.”
Still standing outside, she says, “You don’t mean that. This is all a big misunderstanding. Please let me in.”
I relent and she walks past me, absentmindedly petting Elsa, who looks annoyed that the focus isn’t on her.
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