A Life Less Ordinary (3 page)

“Yeah?”
she said.  “Give some pointers to TJ then.”

“Hey
now!” TJ protested.

Leah
grinned at him, then leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.

“Sorry,
honey – couldn’t resist,” she said.  “Especially after your performance at the
clinic yesterday!”

TJ
pouted until she kissed him again, this time a bit more thoroughly.

“Okay,
lovebirds – I’m still on the line,” Zeke groaned.  “So, Leah, does this mean
you want me to do a follow-up to this piece?”

“Better
than that.  Wait till you see -”

“
Whoa
!”

“Got
to that part, huh?” Leah chortled.

Zeke
stared in disbelief at his computer screen.  “Is this ad for real?”

“Oh,
yeah,” Leah said gleefully.  “I’ve checked it out.”

“Huh?”

“I
called the number and spoke to...” Leah shuffled through the paper on the table
in front of her then picked up a small piece with some notes scribbled on it. 
“I spoke to ‘Manny’.  She’s really having a mid-life crisis, she’s really
heading out on a road trip and she’s really looking for a travelling
companion.”

Zeke
flopped back in his chair with a huff.  “Is she suicidal or nuts?”

“She
just sounded kind of frazzled.”

“Let
me guess.  You want me to interview this woman and – what?  Make her the face
of the pathetic older woman I just wrote about?”

“I
want you to go with her.”

* * * * *

“Even
though I still think you’ve lost your mind, I can’t say I’m sorry you’re
throwing everything out,” Rebecca said, making a small moue of distaste as she
lifted yet another grey skirt out of the closet.

“Me
neither,” Manny sighed.  “When did I stop buying colours?” She frowned as she
checked over a grey blazer before tossing it on the donation pile.

“You
never bought bright colours,” Daisy objected mildly as she rifled through the
shirts that Manny stored in her chests of drawers, “but you used to buy strong
ones.”

She
glanced at the other two who were giving her puzzled looks.  “You know – black,
red, white.”

“Oh
– and you had that jewel tone period, remember?”  Rebecca said brightly. 
“Those strong blues and greens.”

Manny
smiled fondly.  “I remember.”

“But
no patterns.”

“Not
by my face anyway,” Manny agreed, tossing another grey blazer on the donation
pile.

“Do
we get to go shopping with you?”  Rebecca asked.

“If
you can meet me – sure,” Manny grinned.  “But I’m not waiting for you.”

They
worked in silence for a few moments before Rebecca said, “I have to leave
around five.  Jaime’s bringing Tris over tonight and said she wanted to talk to
me – alone.”

“That
doesn’t sound good,” Manny said.

Rebecca
shrugged as she tossed another non-descript skirt onto the rag pile.  “It’s
probably another rant about The-Currently-Evil-One.”

Both
Daisy and Manny snorted.

“The
divorce is still on then?” Manny asked.

“So
far today,” Rebecca agreed and made a show of checking her watch, “but it is
only noon.”

“This
has to be tough on Tris,” Daisy said sympathetically and Manny nodded in
agreement.

Rebecca
sighed.  “She hasn’t said anything, but then she doesn’t usually say anything
to me.”  She lowered her voice conspiratorially.  “She doesn’t like me much.” 
She laughed lightly, but her eyes showed the bewildered pain that lay beneath
her words.

“She
likes you just fine,” Manny protested, then bit her lip.  “I’m sorry – that was
stupid.”

Rebecca
shrugged, determinedly focused on the skirts.  “She’s her mother’s daughter,”
she said, and pressed her lips into a thin, tight line.

Daisy
and Manny exchanged significant glances then turned back to their friend, who
after a moment sighed and met their eyes.

“I
know – I know – it’s not all on them.  It’s never only one person’s fault.  I’m
a responsible adult and I have to take my share of the blame for failing to
bridge the gap between me and my daughter, and me and my granddaughter.  Blah,
blah, blah.  I
get
it.”

“Nobody’s
judging you,” Manny said gently.

“Why
not? 
She
does.”  Rebecca angrily threw another skirt on the donation
pile and glared at the clothes, her hands on her hips.

They
stood in tense silence until Manny said tentatively, “Are – are you
pouting
?”

Rebecca’s
startled gaze met hers.  She blinked, nonplussed, before she frowned and put a
hand to her mouth.

“Oh,
my God – I am!” she exclaimed and started to laugh.  The other two joined in. 
After a moment, they sobered and grinned at each other.

Rebecca
sighed.  “Seriously, it’s really not their fault.  Especially Tris.  I mean,
she’s only ten for God’s sake!  And I’m her grandmother – it’s
just...unfortunate that her personality is so much like her mother’s.”

“At
least
they
get along,” Manny said with forced optimism.

Rebecca
rolled her eyes at her.  “Always a silver lining, huh?  You get that from
your
mother.”

They
lapsed into silence and worked steadily until Rebecca said quietly, “I sometimes
wonder if I would have been more successful with Jaime if your parents hadn’t
died when she was so young.”

“Okay,
come on,” Manny said, “you weren’t
un
-successful!  I mean, she’s not in
jail – she’s smart – okay, she hasn’t really held a job, but you’ve supported
her – I mean, you’re rich, and The-Currently-Evil-One is also rich.  But she’s
not...you know, living on the street!”

Rebecca
and Daisy blinked at her.

“No...,”
Rebecca said slowly.

“Anyway,
you did just fine,” Manny continued.  “You were just a child yourself – and
after our parents died, you were really all alone, well, except for us, of
course.  But I mean, his parents – and
your
parents -”

“Don’t,”
Rebecca said sharply.

Manny
frowned at her.  “All I’m trying to say is – you’ve gone from a disowned,
homeless pregnant teenager – with the deadbeat dad heading for the hills – and
look at you now!  Successful, wealthy, with a daughter who may not like you
much, but she’s at least a functioning human being.  And Tris – regardless of
your personality clashes – she’s your granddaughter!  And that can only be a
good thing!”

Rebecca
nodded glumly.  “You’re right,” she sighed.  “And I love them, of course – just
like they love me.  Really – like we have a choice!”

“Rebecca,”
Manny chided.

“You
know what I mean.  I just...I just wish we
liked
each other more, you
know?”

The
three friends worked in silence for a few moments.

“You
never liked your mother either,” Manny said thoughtfully.

Rebecca
glared.  “I liked her just fine until she threw me out of the house!”

“You
know
-”

“Don’t! 
My God – don’t you talk to me about my parents!”

“You
know what your dad was like!”  Manny protested, “I just don’t think you should
always blame your mother for your father’s actions.”

Rebecca
glared at her.  Manny stared calmly back, the air crackling with tension.

“What
are you trying to say?” Rebecca snarled.

“That
it’s genetic.  Or something.  This – this – tendency to blame the mother for
the sins of the father.”

Rebecca
looked stunned.  “Do you think that’s what this is all about?”

“She
was asking you about her dad the other day, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“And
you told her...?”

“The
truth.  His name and what happened.  You know, everything she already knew.”

“Well,
maybe she’s just...resentful about what her dad did, and – well – she only has
you to take it out on.”

Rebecca
stared at Manny in wide-eyed silence.

“Or
maybe I’m full of shit,” Manny continued, “I don’t have any kids; what the hell
do I know?”

Rebecca
stared for another moment before she reluctantly grinned and laughed.  “Hey,
it’s as good a theory as any I’ve managed to come up with.”  She shook her
head.  “Enough about me.  Have you had any responses to your ad?”

“Tons. 
Tons!  I’ve set up meetings with the four that seem the most promising and
we’ll see how it goes.”

“Well,
if you choose one, give me their name and I’ll have Max do a background check
on them,” Daisy said.

“That
seems like a little bit of overkill,” Manny murmured.

“You’re
my only sister.  I’m not about to let you leave town with a total stranger and not
have some idea about who, and what kind of person, they are.  Besides, Max owes
me.  I’ve gone above and beyond for him more times than I can count.”  Daisy
shrugged. “Plus he likes you.”

“He’s
not going to be tracking my credit card records is he?” Manny asked, her eyes
wide.

“If
I ask him,” Daisy replied primly, then grinned.  “Only if you don’t call me
every couple of days and let me know where you are and if you’re okay.  And
e-mails won’t be enough!  Anyone can send an e-mail.”

“I’ll
call.  Don’t worry.”

“So
when do you meet these people?”

“Tomorrow
at the coffee shop on the corner.”

“Good
luck.”

~~~~~

Jaime
was sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning’s newspaper when Rebecca
breezed in later that evening.

“Sorry,
Jaime,” she said, “I wasn’t expecting you until closer to five-thirty.”

“That’s
okay,” Jaime drawled, bored.  “I’m used to waiting for you.”

Rebecca’s
step faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly and continued to the stove. 
She filled the kettle as she considered ways to respond to Jaime’s comment
before she decided there’d be no point.  She replaced the kettle on the stove
and turned on the heat before she turned to Jaime with a determined smile.

“Tris
in the family room?”

Jaime
shrugged.  “I assume.  Either that or her bedroom.”

Rebecca
nodded and thoughtfully contemplated her daughter.  She’d tried to give Jaime a
good life:  safe, secure and protected.  She’d worked hard – maybe too hard,
she acknowledged.  She’d made sure Jaime never came into contact with the
fleeting lovers Rebecca had had over the years; she’d never found a man she
trusted enough to introduce to the most precious person in her life.

Perhaps
she should have told Jaime she loved her more often, Rebecca mused.  Jaime,
however, was apparently more interested in the paper than in speaking to her
mother, and Rebecca heaved a silent sigh.

“So,”
she said with forced cheer, “you said you wanted to talk to me about
something?”

Jaime
glanced up, then nodded as she folded the paper and laid it aside.  The kettle
began to whistle as Rebecca took two cups out of the cupboard and took the lid
off the teapot.  She warmed the pot then turned to Jaime with an expectant,
quizzical look.

Jaime
calmly met Rebecca’s eyes and said, “I’m going to hire Max to look for my dad.”

Rebecca
stilled.  She blinked when she realized Jaime was waiting for her to say
something.

“Oh,”
was all she could manage as she turned back to the teapot.

Jaime
snorted in frustration.  “Oh?  Is that all you can say? 
Oh?
”

Rebecca
shrugged, her eyes resolutely on her hands as she made the tea. 

“You’re
thirty years old.  You’re more than old enough to make your own decisions. 
What else is there for me to say?”

“I
don’t
get
you, you know.  You make no goddamn sense.”

“The
feeling is mutual,” Rebecca muttered under her breath.  She carried the teapot
and two cups to the table and frowned at Jaime. 

“Why
do you say that?” she asked aloud.

Jaime
threw herself back in her chair with a huff, her arms crossed tightly across
her chest. 

“You’ve
never once blamed him, or said anything truly bad about him to me.  You’ve
never even called him a name!  You can’t be this perfect!  You
must
have
hated his guts!  You must
still
hate him!  I know I hate Blake right
now, and he’s at least in Tris’ life.  Are you really this...this
noble
and
perfect
?”

The
words would have been flattering if Jaime’s lip hadn’t been lifted in a sneer. 
Rebecca stared at her daughter, her stomach roiling with anger and nausea at
having to think about everything that had happened to her over thirty years
ago.  She carefully poured herself some tea with shaking hands; she added honey
then sat back, cradling the cup, taking comfort from its weight and heat.