My angel is rolling her eyes.
Chapter Forty
Ruby
“You're gonna have your hands full this weekend,” Ruby tells Tara while going over the dessert options for the weekend-long party they’ll be hosting.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll bake like a fiend during the day and stay long enough at night to make sure everything goes out according to plan.”
“You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Ruby asks, thinking about that Scrabble game she played with Tom, and Tara’s recent flu bug.
“What? No? Why would you ask me that?” Tara sounds shocked.
“Because according to Tom, someone around here is pregnant, and I don’t know who. I was hoping it was you or Addy.”
“Tom, your husband?” Tara asks, sounding alarmed.
“He plays Scrabble with me. Didn’t James tell you about that?” Tara shakes her head, so Ruby adds, “He’s probably afraid he’ll scare you away.” Then she confides, “I call it his Ouija board.”
“He actually moves the tile around the board?”
I can hear the disbelief in her voice. “No, we play on the computer.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Tara decides before saying, “My grandmother sent pennies after she died. Everywhere I went I stumbled across pennies, sometimes piles of them.”
“Pennies from heaven are a real thing,” Ruby confirms. “But Tom knows he has to be more obvious to get my attention. I won’t stop for anything smaller than a five-dollar bill.”
Tara laughs before asking, “Do you have any idea what’s going on between Claire and Geoffrey?”
“What do you mean?”
“They talk all the time and Claire acts funny when I ask her what’s up.”
Crossing her fingers behind her back and shaking her head, Ruby replies, “As far as I know, they’re just co-workers.” Meanwhile, Sharon has been filling her in on the almost daily get-togethers of her chef and party planner.
Geoffrey
If I were half the man I pretend to be, I’d break things off with Claire. I talked to my mother briefly about what would happen if I didn’t return and she actually cried and begged me to come home.
I didn’t tell Mom about Claire, but things are starting to heat up between us to the point that I can no longer claim we’re having casual fun. There’s nothing casual about the way I feel. Nothing.
I need to use the busyness of this coming weekend to pull back a little, if for no other reason than to save my sanity.
After the lunch rush, Tara signals for me to join her in my office. I walk in and ask, “What’s up?”
“I think that’s a question I should be asking.”
“Why?” I ask, confused.
“What’s going on between you and Claire?”
“Did she say something was going on?” I’m not going to tell Tara anything unless she already knows.
“No, but something is going on.” Then she points her finger at me and warns, “Don’t mess with my girl. Claire had a hard time after breaking up with Jack and I don’t want you to hurt her when you leave.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” I hope to God that’s true, but in my heart I know it’s not. I have got to leave Claire alone, if not for her well-being, then for mine.
“Make sure you don’t,” she declares before walking out the door.
I’ve got ten minutes before I meet with Claire to go over menus. I quickly reach for my phone and text my sister.
Me: Aubrey, you there?
Aubrey: What’s up?
Me: What do you think would happen if I stayed in Oregon?
Aubrey: WHAT? NO! You promised to come back.
Me: But, what if I don’t?
Aubrey: Then you’ll be making my life and every other siblings’, but Chéri’s, harder. If you don’t come home and do your part, the rest of us will have to keep picking up the slack.
Me: Why can’t you just do less?
Aubrey: Have you totally forgotten who your parents are? Doing less is not in their rule book.
Me: Okay, Bree. I was just asking.
Aubrey: Well, don’t ask again. Just come home.
I walk into the dining room to meet Claire with a heavy heart. I need to put the idea of staying in Oregon out of my head. And while I’m doing that, I need some space from Claire.
She doesn’t look pleased when I spot her across the room. I approach the table and say “Hey,” before sitting down.
She opens the folder in front of her without responding. When she finally talks, she says, “As you know, the birthday party for twelve is now a birthday party and a wedding party, both for twenty-four.”
“You’ve got to wonder what happened to change that, huh?”
“I assume some happy couple is so in love they can’t wait to get married.” She doesn’t look me in the eye, but I feel the sting of her tone like a smack.
She looks at her notes. “Our big events for them are the birthday party, the wedding and reception, and the breakfast following the wedding. All other meals they’ve decided to take in the dining room.”
“Really? I thought they wanted all of their meals in a private room.”
“I’m just telling you what their party planner told me,” she says before standing up. “I don’t think there’s anything else we need to discuss, do you?”
There’s a laundry list of things we need to talk about, but now isn’t the time. In fact, I’m not sure any time would be right. “I’m working late tonight, so I won’t be able to see you later,” I lie.
“That’s fine,” she says like we were getting together to do unsavory work, like cleaning up a dog park. She tilts her head back and squints her eyes while staring at me like I’ve just grown horns. Then she gets up and walks away without saying another word.
The rest of the day is agonizing. I don’t know how I’m able to cook because my mind is full of thoughts about Claire, me and Claire, my parents, my siblings, and yes, even the possible abandonment of the agreement I signed before leaving Malquar.
By the time I’m getting ready to leave work, I realize I’ve been here for fourteen hours. I stop off at the market on my way home to pick up some beer with a vision of drinking more than I should. I need to do something to stop the endless parade of thoughts marching through my head.
As I walk into the market, Cheryl calls out, “Hi there, Geoffrey!”
“Hey, Cheryl.” I think about what Claire told me about Cheryl having a crush on me and wonder if it’s true. I hope not, because I don’t need any more women upset with me.
When I check out with my six-pack, Cheryl says, “You look blue. What’s up?”
I decide to level with her, in case she does have feelings. “I’m having some female troubles.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve experienced my fair share of relationship woes, and I know they’re no fun.”
For some reason, I blurt out, “I’m moving home in a few weeks and I don’t know how to break things off with the woman I like.”
“Claire?” she asks, hitting the nail on the head.
“How did you know?”
Cheryl hands me my receipt and says, “She told me you were moving home a while back and she seemed really sad about it.” Then she calls out to the checker in the next aisle. “Dwayne, I’m heading out for the night. Lock up, will ya?”
“Sure thing, boss,” he replies.
She turns to me and says, “I think I’m going to go home with you and help you drink your beer. I’ll tell you my problems and you can tell me yours.”
There’s nothing flirtatious in Cheryl’s announcement. I think she might just need someone to talk with as much as I do. Offering her my arm, I reply, “Let me get some more beer! You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Chapter Forty-One
Sharon
Sharon picks up her phone to see she has a voicemail. Real live messages from real live voices are one of her favorite thin
gs of all time. Even though she sends texts regularly, she misses the sound of talking to people.
After punching in her security code, Sharon hears, “Hey, Mom, it’s me, Lu. All right, you’ve worn me down. I’m coming to Oregon on Saturday and I’m going to stay until Monday. Prepare to dazzle me.”
“Holy crap,” Sharon whispers to herself. Not only is Tooty coming the same weekend, but Claire has a crazy busy schedule at work. Yet she dare not postpone with Lu or her eldest daughter might not reschedule.
Claire isn’t thrilled that Tooty is coming in the same weekend as her wedding party. With the mixer being held in the great room, everyone will know Tooty Jackson is staying there. Claire worries her aunt will become a distraction instead of a draw.
This makes Sharon concerned about what Claire’s reaction will be when she learns Lu is coming.
Opening her bedroom window and hoping a blast of cold air will help her decide the best course of action, Sharon sees Geoffrey’s car pull into his driveway. Even though it’s after nine, she guesses Claire will still head on over like she’s been doing for the last couple of weeks.
Relieved by the reprieve of having to decide what to tell her, Sharon crawls into bed and prays for guidance.
Claire
Grabbing my coat out of the hall closet, I stop to peek in the mirror to make sure I don’t look as haunted as I feel. Taking a deep breath, I give my cheeks a sharp pinch for color.
I have no idea what I’m going to say to Geoffrey until I see him. I might not even know then, but I vow to make a decision and stick by it by the time I leave his house tonight.
Geoffrey doesn’t lock his front door until he goes to bed, so as per my recent routine, I open it up and stick my head inside. “It’s me,” I call out.
Then I look into the living room and draw in a sharp breath. Geoffrey and Cheryl are sitting on his couch, looking way too cozy for my comfort.
“Claire.” Geoffrey jumps up. “I didn’t think you were planning on coming over tonight.”
“Obviously.” I look at Cheryl with what I’m sure is pure hatred in my eyes.
She smiles at me, oblivious. “Hi, Claire. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” I answer. “I’m more than fine. I’m so, so fine.” My vocabulary seems to be short-circuited by the rage pouring through me. “I’m sorry to intrude on your date.” I’m not sorry, and while I should turn around and walk right out the front door, I don’t.
“Geoffrey and I were just enjoying a couple of beers together,” Cheryl says, breaking the wall of tension filling the air.
“Is that what you call it?” I ask her, knowing full-well that’s code for fooling around with no strings attached.
She lifts her beer bottle. “Yes?” She sounds unsure now.
“Claire.” Geoffrey walks toward me.
I take a step toward him as well. I want to pummel him with my fists until he begs for mercy. I briefly glance at the kitchen wondering if I should use a frying pan instead. How dare he have Cheryl over here?
“Can I get you a beer?”
“Is that all you have to say?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Would you like supper?”
“Oh. My. God. Geoffrey. How can you stand there acting all innocent like I didn’t just walk in on you with another woman?” For emphasis I put my hands on my hips and waggle my head back and forth in righteous indignation.
“Cheryl is a friend,” he says.
Cheryl agrees, “It’s true, Claire. Geoffrey came into the market tonight and he seemed a little down, so I offered to have a drink with him and try to cheer him up.”
“Oh, I bet you tried to cheer him up. I know ALL about how much you want to cheer him up. Is ‘cheer’ a new euphemism for sleeping around?” I yell.
“I didn’t come here to sleep with him.” Cheryl sounds hurt. What an actress!
“I know exactly how you feel about Geoffrey. You told me yourself that you wouldn’t mind having some fun with him before he left.”
Cheryl cringes slightly while glancing at the man of the hour. “That was before I knew you and he had something going on, Claire.”
“Why would you think we had something going on?” I turn to Geoffrey and order, “Tell her we have nothing going on!”
“Claire …” He sounds pained, but nowhere near as pained as I want him to be. I’m tempted to kick him in the shin to speed things along.
“What, Geoffrey? What could you possibly have to say to me? I already know you’re leaving, and I know you don’t want anything more than fun and games until then. But you know what? I’m not a fun and games kind of girl. I’m sick to death of men thinking they can take whatever they want and then walk away like I don’t matter.”
I know I’m going off on a tangent here, but I suddenly feel like a dam that’s been holding back flood waters during a hurricane. I simply blow. “I matter, Geoffrey! I am a human being that matters! Do you hear me?”
He takes a step closer and I snap. I hit him with my fists while yelling, “I don’t care if you leave here. You don’t mean squat to me. Do you understand?” Then I push him away, turn around, and run right into the closed door. The only thing worse than botching a dramatic exit is the need for a dramatic exit.
“Nothing is going on here, Claire.” Geoffrey sounds so calm and collected. His composure has the opposite effect on me.
While opening the front door, I borrow one of Tooty’s favorite lines and tell him, “Go suck eggs.” Then I finally make my exit.
Geoffrey does not come after me, which I decide confirms his guilt. I will work with the man, but only because I have to. I will not engage in any other kind of camaraderie with him. In fact, I think I’m going to start a countdown calendar. Every day I check off will be one day closer to my starting life fresh in Oregon. I cannot wait.
Slamming the front door of my house startles the anger right out of me and signals tears. So many tears. I cry for the way Jack made a fool of me; I cry for the invisibility I feel within my own family; I cry for the emotional distance between me and my sister. Once I feel totally and completely like I couldn’t possibly shed another tear, my thoughts circle back around to Geoffrey and the floodgates open again.
I’m pretty sure I’ve completely dehydrated myself by the time I’m done sobbing. My eyes are so swollen I can barely see out of them.
I’m hiccupping like a drunken leprechaun on St. Patrick’s Day when my mom stumbles down the stairs and comes into the living room. “Claire? Honey?” She hurries over when I don’t reply. She just sits down next to me and pulls me into her arms and croons, “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”
I let her hold me while I pretend a mother’s love is enough to heal all wounds. But in this case, I know it isn’t. I was with Jack for two years and didn’t mourn to this extent when I caught him with another woman. On some level I probably knew he would eventually let me down.
Geoffrey was different. My head knew whatever we had wasn’t supposed to last, but my heart never got the message.
Chapter Forty-Two
The Queen
“I need three changes of clothing for every day,” Charlotte tells her lady’s maid. “Oh, and please don’t forget to pack my rain boots.”
When Alfred walks into their bedroom, she announces, “It’s been too long since we’ve been away.”
“It’ll be nice to get outside our own four walls for a change,” he agrees, before giving her a kiss on her forehead.
“You mean our four hundred and forty-four walls?”
Laughing, Alfred replies, “It’s hard living under a microscope all the time, isn’t it? I’m looking forward to a break.”
“We’ve done a good job raising our kids,” Charlotte announces, changing the topic.
“That we have.”
“Even with Chéri.”
“Even Chéri,” Alfred agrees. “That girl is our free-spirit. Life would have been almost boring
without her.”
“And now she’s giving us a grandchild. That’s where we’re really going to have some fun.”
“I just wish she’d move back to Malquar. I’m afraid she won’t come home when she turns thirty, like Geoffrey is doing, and that she’ll raise her family away from us.”
Charlotte walks into her husband’s embrace. “Then let’s do whatever we have to do to entice her home.”
The king nods his head before agreeing, “I’m on board with whatever it takes.”
Geoffrey
“You’d better go after her, Geoffrey,” Cheryl tells me after Claire leaves.
“I don’t think so,” I say, while walking into the kitchen to crack open another beer.
Cheryl follows close behind. “She’s really upset about what she thinks is going on between us.”
“That she is.”
“Then go put her mind at rest.”
“I think it’s best that Claire and I stop whatever was growing between us, especially when nothing can come from it.”
“Why can’t anything come from it?” Cheryl demands. “You’re moving to another country, not another planet.”
“Have you ever dated somebody who lived on the other side of an ocean from you?”
“Obviously not, as my husband is the only man I’ve ever dated. We’d been together since the tenth grade.” When I don’t respond, she pushes, “Why do you have to leave anyway?”
“I have family obligations,” I tell her.
“If Claire meant anything to you, you wouldn’t let her hurt like this.”
I pop the cap on my beer and drink half of it down before answering, “I think the best thing for her is to be mad at me. That way she’ll be happy to see me go instead of being sad.”
“Yeah, but she’s mad at me too, and I didn’t do anything.”
“She’ll eventually get over it once she finds someone else.” Saying that is like a knife to my heart. I can’t visualize Claire with anyone but me.
It's My Party: A Royal Romantic Comedy (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers Book 3) Page 20