California Girls

by Susan Mallery

  Zennie had wild thoughts about Dr. Chen doing just that with Mrs. Chen. The man had depths. Who knew?

  “Children are a blessing,” he continued. “Not many people can do what you’re doing. Remember that. You’re an amazing person.”

  “I mostly feel crabby.”

  “That’s okay, too. Anything else?”

  “Nope. I believe in one big secret at a time and I already have mine.”

  “I’m proud of you, Zennie. You should be proud of yourself, as well.”

  His words touched her. “Thank you. I’ll try.” And if that didn’t work, there were always the foot rubs.

  * * *

  Ali closed her eyes as Finola applied eyeliner. “I could have done this myself,” she said. “It’s my left arm that’s broken, not my right.”

  But she wasn’t complaining. It was nice to have her sister fussing over her, like she had when they’d been kids.

  Finola had texted both her sisters to talk about the motorbike accident. That exchange had led to a three-way conversation about Ali’s broken arm and Mom showing up in the ER. Her relationship with Daniel had tumbled out. While Ali had expected to be scolded, both her sisters had been supportive. When Finola had learned of the dinner with Daniel’s parents, she’d insisted on coming by to help Ali get ready.

  “I want to be here.” Finola added more eye shadow. “I’m sorry about what I said before. About Daniel.”

  Ali involuntarily opened her eyes. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not. I’ll make an excuse and tell you I was in a bad place, but that’s not good enough. I should have been more supportive.” She smiled. “Obviously I was wrong about how he felt about you.”

  Ali felt herself flush. “He’s, um, pretty into this.”

  “Then he’s a lucky guy.” Finola’s smile was kind. “You’re happy. Really happy. I can see it in your face. Don’t take this wrong, but you weren’t like this with Glen.”

  “I know. The breakup was awful, but honestly the logistics of canceling the wedding were harder than losing him.”

  “We all make mistakes. You learned from yours and you’re moving on with your life.”

  Ali smiled. “I made Glen pay for half my VISA bill. I marched into his office and stared him down. When he asked about the engagement ring, I quoted California law—I get to keep it.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I’m not going to. I’m waiting a bit before I return it. I have no interest in what he gave me.” Plus she saw returning the ring as proof that she had moved on. Things were looking up, she thought happily. Finola had come around and even her mother had texted a semi-apology for how she’d been at the emergency room.

  “Look at you,” Finola teased, as she reached for the mascara. “All grown up and happy in your new life.”

  There was more, Ali thought with a bit of pride. Daniel had said he loved her. She wasn’t ready to share that with the world, not until she was sure her feelings were true love and not just a combination of hot sex and gratitude. Also, she’d killed at her interview, and starting in two weeks she was officially the new warehouse manager. She’d also decided to get her degree. Come September she would be taking two night classes at community college. She would get her degree in business management then conquer the world, with Daniel at her side.

  “How are you doing?” Ali asked.

  Finola finished with the mascara. She picked up an eyebrow pencil. “I’m dealing.”

  “Mom said you’d moved back in.”

  “Yes, well, Nigel’s at the house.”

  Ali sat up straighter. “He’s done with Treasure?”

  “So it seems.”

  “Are you two...”

  Finola wrinkled her nose. “We’re not getting back together.” She held up a hand. “We shouldn’t get into this now. You have your dinner and I don’t want you thinking about me. I’m okay. Sad and disappointed in both of us, but okay.”

  “You’re getting a divorce?”

  Finola nodded. “We’ve already talked to our respective lawyers. The house will be going up for sale. I’m going to stay with Mom until she lists her place, then I’ll find a rental near the studio.”

  Ali hugged her. “I’m sorry. I’m so mad at him.”

  “Thanks, but you don’t have to be. He was wrong to have the affair, but I screwed up, too. Just not so publicly.”

  Ali was surprised. This Finola was different. Less brash, more thoughtful. Tragedy had a way of burning away the surface of a person, leaving what was underneath. In her sister’s case, that was a good thing.

  “Let me know how I can help,” she said.

  “Thanks. I’m okay. Like I said, I’m sad, but I’m okay. Now enough about me. We’re going to talk about how great you look and how much Daniel’s parents are going to adore you.”

  Ali bit her lower lip. “Yes, well, they’ve already met me. As Glen’s fiancé.”

  “You’re right. I’d forgotten that. Do you have any idea how it’s going to go?”

  “Other than awkwardly? Not really.”

  Ninety minutes later, as Ali and Daniel walked up the front walk to his parents’ beautiful Calabasas home, she hadn’t changed her mind.

  “This was a bad idea,” she said as he knocked.

  He squeezed the hand he was holding. “Too late now, unless you want to run for it.”

  But before she could consider that as an option, the front door swung open.

  Marie Demiter stood in the doorway. She and her husband, Steve, were a perfectly nice couple. Steve was an architect and Marie owned a small chain of nail salons in the West Valley. They’d raised two boys, were active in the community and until tonight, Ali had always thought they kind of liked her.

  Now, looking at her former mother-in-law-to-be, Ali realized she couldn’t do this. Couldn’t be Daniel’s girlfriend after being engaged to Glen. It was ridiculous. She was a fool to think it would ever work.

  “Hi,” Marie said, her voice falsely bright. “Come on in.”

  They stepped into the huge, two-story foyer. Marie called out, “Steve, they’re here.”

  “Good.” Steve, as tall and dark-haired as Daniel, joined them. Everyone shook hands. Marie hugged her son and asked about Ali’s broken arm.

  “I fell off a bike on the track,” she said. “It was just one of those things. I’m fine.”

  “She was very brave.” Daniel put his arm around her. “Scared the crap out of me, though.”

  Marie and Steve both looked at the draped arm, then at each other. Ali’s stomach sank. This was not going well.

  Marie urged them all into the living room. There was a plate of appetizers waiting. Steve got them all drinks, then they sat opposite each other on the two oversize sofas in the giant and perfectly decorated room.

  Ali looked at her glass of white wine, at Marie and Steve, then told herself she’d gotten through worse. She couldn’t remember what, but there had to be something.

  “We should talk about it,” she said quietly. “Otherwise the elephant in the room is going to squish us all and the evening will be horrible.”

  Marie looked relieved. “That’s an excellent idea, because this is a very unusual situation.”

  “Why don’t I—” Daniel began, but Ali put her hand on his.

  “I’ll do it,” she said. “This is my thing.”

  “So that’s all I am?” he teased. “A thing?”

  She managed a slight smile before telling herself to be strong as she looked at his parents.

  “I had no idea Glen was unhappy,” she said. “He never said anything. My first clue was when he ended things.”

  Marie and Steve exchanged a glance. Ali knew she had to keep talking or she would crumble under the pressure.

  “I was devastated, of course. The wedding was less than two
months away, I’d already mailed out the invitations. I couldn’t seem to grasp what was happening.”

  She avoided mentioning her meltdown, the drinking, the phone throwing and other details that did not paint her in the best light.

  “Canceling the wedding was a lot of work. Daniel stepped in and helped me with that. Then I had to deal with getting a new place because I’d given notice and the management company had already leased out my place. We were spending a lot of time together and we became friends.”

  Make that more than friends but she was pretty sure his parents could read between the lines.

  “I don’t understand why Daniel was there when Glen broke off the engagement,” Steve said.

  “Oh. I thought you knew.”

  “I didn’t tell them,” Daniel admitted. “Sorry. I forgot about that.”

  “Forgot about what?” Marie asked. “What don’t we know?”

  “Mom, Glen didn’t break up with Ali himself. He came to me and told me he didn’t want to marry her. He wasn’t going to tell her, so I had two choices. I could do nothing, in which case she would be stood up at the altar, or I could tell her myself. I chose to tell her.”

  Marie’s eyes widened as she turned to Ali. “Glen didn’t tell you himself?”

  “No. When I texted him, he confirmed he was done with me, but that was it.” She thought about mentioning the five-hundred-dollar check, but figured his parents already knew enough.

  “I saw him a couple of weeks ago and we hashed out the last of the details.” Which was her way of describing how she’d made him pay her what he should. “Oh, except for this.”

  She opened her small handbag and pulled out a ring box. “If you’d see that Glen gets this. I didn’t have it on me the last time we spoke.” Which was technically true, but not the reason she hadn’t told him he was getting the ring back. But again—no need for the parents to know.

  “Like I said,” Ali continued. “I know this is really awkward. You’re going to need some time to process everything. I’m not a looking to disrupt your family. Daniel was there for me when my life was falling apart. He was a good friend who helped me. What’s happened since then grew out of that friendship.” She smiled. “He’s a really great guy, but it’s a weird situation and not one I expected to find outside of reality TV.”

  Marie smile. “That’s a little of how we feel. I can’t believe Glen didn’t tell you to your face. I don’t want to believe he wouldn’t have said anything, but now I just don’t know.” She looked at Daniel. “He put you in an impossible situation.”

  “I had to tell her what Glen was doing. I didn’t want her to be played.”

  “He made you break her heart.”

  Their brief exchange told Ali that his mother knew about his feelings for her. The entire situation was complicated and crazy and she honestly didn’t know what they must think of her.

  “I’m sorry,” Ali began.

  “No,” Steve told her. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, although it does sound as if we need to speak to our other son.” He glanced at his wife. “Marie?”

  Marie smiled. “Now that we all know what happened, we can put the situation behind us. I always liked you, Ali. I still do. It’s going to take a bit for our mind-set to shift, but I think we’re up to it. Now why don’t you come help me in the kitchen and we’ll leave the men to talk about sports?”

  Ali felt a rush of gratitude for the gracious acceptance. “Thank you. I’d like that very much.”

  * * *

  Finola spent much of Thursday and Friday afternoon and evening pricing the items for the estate sale. She’d thought she might feel sad about seeing bits of her life put up for sale, but she was oddly excited about the fact that they would soon be gone. She was releasing the past and moving on. She wasn’t sure what she was moving on to, but steps were being taken.

  She and Nigel were still playing nice. The paperwork had been signed to sell the house and the For Sale sign would go up in a week. They’d divided the bank accounts and were beginning the process of conscious uncoupling, as it was called these days.

  Finola carried boxes into the garage. Her mother had borrowed folding tables from a friend for the smaller items. There were racks with clothing ready to be wheeled onto the driveway and stacks of books and games, along with boxes of old toys. Finola had written up a list of furniture available so people could know what was for sale before tracking into the house. Once items were sold, they would be crossed off the list.

  Ali had taken care of advertising the estate sale. She’d used both social media and the Los Angeles Times website to let people know what was available. This being the land of Hollywood and movies, there would be a special interest in all the Parker Crane memorabilia, and she’d made sure to highlight that.

  Zennie and Ali would be at the house by six thirty and the estate sale would start at eight. It would be a busy day. Finola was hoping to move everything on Saturday so they didn’t have to deal with a second day. With luck, all she and her sisters would have to do was run whatever didn’t sell over to a donation center. Once that was done, their mother would get the carpets cleaned and put the house up for sale.

  Finola returned to the house for another load of boxes. Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen and recognized her agent’s number.

  “You’re working late on a Friday.”

  “I am and only for you,” Wilma said dramatically. “Because you’re my favorite.”

  “You say that to all your clients. We’ve talked about it and none of us believe you anymore.”

  Wilma chuckled. “I’m all right with that. So, I have news.”

  “Based on your tone, I’m going to assume it’s the happy kind.” Which she believed she was due for, she thought with a smile.

  “It is. It’s fantabulous and I don’t say that lightly.”

  “Tell me.”

  “The network wants you to guest cohost the 10:00 a.m. hour of the national show. For a week.”

  Finola walked over to the sofa and collapsed. Her heart thudded in her chest and there was a ringing in her ears.

  “Are you serious? They’re asking me?”

  “They are. I’ve been hearing rumors that one of the morning show hosts was leaving so everyone moves up a rung on the ladder, leaving a spot open for someone and I want that someone to be you. This is an audition, Finola. You need to kick ass that week.”

  Going from AM SoCal to the ten o’clock hour of a network show was huge. Bigger than huge.

  “I’ll do it. Of course I’ll do it. When is it?”

  “In three weeks. Can you be ready?”

  “Yes. I’ll have to call my producers and let them know.”

  They wouldn’t be happy but they also couldn’t refuse a network request.

  “There’s more,” Wilma told her. “They’re going to let you produce a weeklong series, if you want. One segment per show per day. You pick the topic. It will be a lot of work, but you can show them what you’re capable of.”

  “I’ll do it,” she said without considering any other option. Because she didn’t need to make a decision. “I already have a topic. Why marriages fail.”

  Wilma gasped. “That’s insane. You can’t talk about that.”

  “Why not? It’s relevant. Everyone knows someone who has gotten a divorce. They’ll be thinking about my marriage anyway. Why not get it out in the open?”

  “That’s a gutsy move, Finola. It’s going to take a lot of strength.”

  “I can handle it,” she said. Yes, it would be painful and yes, she would feel exposed, but she had a feeling she would feel a lot lighter and more free when she was done.

  “I’ll email you the details,” Wilma told her. “Take the weekend to think about the topic and get back to me.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind.”
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  “Take the weekend.”

  Finola grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Talk to you on Monday.”

  They hung up. Her mind was spinning with possibilities. She started to dial Rochelle only to remember her assistant was moving on. She had a great opportunity here. Dangling New York would be a distraction. Better for Rochelle to become an associate producer here than be Finola’s assistant in New York, assuming the audition turned into an offer.

  “I can do it myself,” she said aloud, mostly to hear the words. She had plenty of free time. She would put together an outline for the segments, then talk to the booker about getting the appropriate guests. She was interested in a thoughtful, informative series that helped the viewers. If she got closure herself, well, that was just a bonus.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Go back to bed,” Zennie said with a laugh as she drove through the quiet streets of Burbank, just after six in the morning. She adjusted the volume on her speakers so she could hear the Bluetooth call more clearly. “Clark, it’s Saturday. Why are you even awake?”

  “You’re pregnant and Ali has a broken arm. That’s going to limit the workforce.”

  “It’s an estate sale, not ditch digging. And me being pregnant doesn’t change anything. I’m on my feet all day at work, so I’m used to it.”

  “You’re on your feet all day at work, so you should stay off your feet on the weekends. I want to come help.”

  “We discussed this at dinner.”

  “Yes, we did and you told me no. I’m pushing back.”

  Since getting back in touch with her and offering friendship, Clark had been around a lot more than she would have expected. Even more surprising, she kind of liked it. He was steady and calm. Given her current emotional state, those were both qualities she needed right now. True to his word, he hadn’t pressured her about anything. They were hanging out—nothing more.

  “Fine,” she said. “Come by around ten and you can man the cash register while I take a thirty-minute break, but then you have to leave.”

  “Great. See you at ten. Want me to bring doughnuts?”