Always Mr. Wrong (4 page)

David looked puzzled. “You go to the gym
dressed up like that?”

“She has a date,” announced Eleanor.

“Button it, Eleanor,” glaring at my
sister.

“You have a date? Clare, that’s great.
Victoria and I were just saying the other night you should get
yourself back out there.”

“Has no one got anything better to do than
discuss my love life?” I yelled, throwing my bag on the table in
anger.

“So who is it? What does he do? When can we
meet him and give him the Coleman family third degree? Or is it
someone we already know and approve of?”

“NO!” I yelled at the same time as Eleanor
said
yes
.

“Oh, Clare, he’ll find out soon enough. How
long can you go sneaking around? Better David knows now so he can
get used to the idea.”

David’s eyes shot from Eleanor to me in rapid
succession. “So do I know him or not?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “If
I tell you, you’re not to judge me, and most of all you can’t tell
Mum, Dad or Victoria.” I held my breath then quickly said, “It’s
Guy Foreman.”

Eleanor and I watched as David mouthed the
name to himself a few times. Surely my brother was not that dense.
He had only just mentioned his name.

“Oh, my god! As in the Doctor? Are you crazy?
You are dating a man who could be a grandpa? He’s what twenty odd
years older than you?”

“Sixteen actually, and for your information I
really care for him.”

“Yes, when you were a teenager maybe. Clare,
this is positively disgusting.”

“We get on really well. He’s caring,
understanding and sexy. Now if you don’t mind, I must go. David,
can you make sure you lock the kitchen door and post the keys
through the letterbox. The other morning when I came home Eleanor
had left them both unlocked overnight.”

“You stay the night? Like sleep
together?”

“Two nights a week and the weekends when Phil
has Olivia,” informed my sister.

Shocked, David pulled out a chair, sat down
and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’ve asked me to keep some
secrets over the years, but this, Clare, well, it takes the
biscuit.”

I was in no mood to pacify my brother’s
morals. I needed to talk to Guy and sort this mess out. “Yes, well,
live with it.” Grabbing my bag, I turned and fled.

As I opened the front door, I heard David
say, “Really? He’s sexy?”

“Oh god yes, he’s like a bag of liquorish
allsorts...Isaiah Washington, Hugh Laurie, Lionel Richie and Pierce
Brosnan. You dig into the bag, and whichever one you pick out you
know you’ll love it.”

I locked my front door with a huge smile on
my face.

* * * *

Guy had managed to reassure me that Sunday
lunch would go without any hitches. It was easy for
him
to
say, but all Sunday morning
I
had been on tender hooks. Guy
was obviously surer than I was. He informed me he could see no
earthly reason why he could not stay over on Saturday night, that
he would be an extra pair of hands helping with lunch, which would
have been a great help if he and Eleanor had not had been larking
about, instead of preparing the vegetables. An hour before my
guests were due, I felt it would look suspicious if Guy were
already in-situ as it were.

Plus, Phil was due to drop off Olivia at any
moment. All week she had never shut up about my new BF, as she put
it. The odds of her telling Phil seemed too high to chance. Call me
over-reacting, but it only took Phil to see Guy peeling potatoes to
put two and two together. After all, he was a detective.

Finally, my nerves near to shattering, I sent
Guy to buy flowers for my mother and Marjorie and a bottle of wine
for me. My thinking behind this was that it would make his
appearance more authentic, as if he’d stopped off to buy them on
the way over here. Eleanor suggested he might also buy smelling
salts for Mum, brandy from Dad, a good pair of running shoes for us
both and a one way ticket to Mexico. Just in case.

Well, my plan nearly worked. Guy received a
half-hearted smile from Marjorie, whilst Mum, on the other hand,
seemed to overplay receiving her droopy overpriced bunch of blooms.
“Isn’t he such a thoughtful man? Guy, you really shouldn’t have.
How did you know that I absolutely love carnations? And pink ones,
too. I always say it takes a real kind-hearted man to give a woman
flowers. Don’t you agree, Marjorie?”

Marjorie shrugged her shoulders. Obviously it
was going to take more than some wilting flowers and a lot more
team building to reassure her that Guy was really a very nice
man.

Eleanor jokingly had whispered in my ear,
“Better watch your man. Looks like Mum’s got the hots for your
doctor.”

I watched Mum flutter her eyelashes at
Guy.

Was I mistaken but wasn’t that the dress
she’d bought for the Mayor’s garden party last summer? Talk about
mutton dressed as lamb for a family Sunday lunch. But hold on a
cotton picking minute, it was all coming back to me now, Mum would
always dress up to the nines for my hospital appointments. I don’t
believe it! I had been so wrapped up in my own crush, I’d never
realised that twenty years ago Mum fancied the pants off Guy.
‘Ohoooo! Yuck!’

While my mother flapped around the place like
a prize peacock, filling up glasses and foolishly acting as if she
was twenty, not sixty-four, Marjorie had trapped my father in a
corner, obviously griping about Guy. Her latest gripe being the
running machine Guy had installed in his office. Not having enough
time to go to the gym, Guy would spend an hour running at
lunchtime. I knew what she would be saying. She’d told Guy the
same. “This is a place of work, not a gymnasium. If I had wanted to
be employed in a physical fitness environment, I would have taken a
job in physiotherapy.”

Guy pleasantly surprised me by entertaining
the children and Victoria with card and magic tricks. According to
Olivia, who was bursting with excitement over her new BF, Guy told
them he had wanted to be a magician when he was a boy.

Well, he certainly was a wizard at sex.

* * * *

Lunch was going without any hitches. General
chitchat and banter flowed around the table as it did at all
Coleman Sunday lunches.

My cunning seating plan had been devised so
as not to create any cock-ups. David and Eleanor sat either side of
me. That way I could monitor Eleanor’s wine intake. More than three
glasses of wine and I knew her mouth would let her down. David was
there purely as support. If Eleanor let anything slip, David could
quickly intervene. He’d always been the quick thinker of the two of
us where our sister was concerned. And over the years, he’d had a
lot of practice.

Yet today he was like a ticking time bomb as
he fidgeted and glared at Guy fraternising with Victoria, who, by
the way, was lapping it up. I knew David was reading too much into
it. Despite all the charm, whenever I glanced over to Guy, he would
be sneakily looking out of the corner of his eye at me. His eyes
spoke more than words. They told me not to worry...everything would
be fine.

Tapping was heard on a wine glass, and
silence fell around the table. All eyes turned to my father who sat
at the head of the table.

“I know we’ve said grace, but I was just
sitting here, watching you all enjoying yourselves and this
beautiful food Clare has prepared. I felt so thankful for being
able to share it with my wonderful family and friends. So let us
take a moment each one of us to say what we are thankful for
today.”

“Oh God no,” hissed Eleanor under her breath.
Nudging me, she pointed her finger to Olivia at her side who was
frantically waving her hand in the air. I didn’t have a chance to
stop her.

“Yes, Olivia? You are eager to go first,”
said my father.

My hands shot under the table, grabbing one
of Eleanor’s thighs, the other grabbed David’s who nearly jumped
out of his chair in fright.

“I am thankful that Mummy has a boyfriend
before it is too late,” announced my daughter.

Eleanor turned in her chair, through pursed
lips, said, “Thank god, she went first to stop this crap. All I’m
thankful for today is my new vibrator I tried out this morning.” I
tried to manage a smile of thankfulness, too. The last time we went
around the table giving thanks, Eleanor was so pissed she thanked
the two men she had shagged senseless the night before at a
party.

“Is this true, Clare? You have a male
friend?” cried out my mother in glee.

I looked across the table to her beaming
face.

“Come on, Clare. Don’t be coy.” Hardly able
to control herself, Mum jumped up from her chair. She had spent the
last nine months trying to fix me up with her friend’s sons who
were single and over thirty. Pickings had been somewhat slim.
Narrowed down to a closet gay, whose mother thought he was
sensitive. A slimy looking character that I’m sure Phil had told me
was a peeping tom and a mortician who in his spare time collected
beer mats.

“How long have you been seeing him?”

My vocal cords seemed to have closed
tight.

“Eight weeks,” answered Eleanor.

“And does he have a name?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words
just would not come out.

My mother looked to my sister for the answer.
“Eleanor, you seem to know all about it. What is his name?”

Eleanor raised her hands in submission. “How
should I know? I just walked in on them, Clare on top like a rodeo
cowboy, him underneath like a raging bull. We didn’t get around to
a formal introduction. God, I need a drink!” She grabbed the
nearest bottle of wine and guzzled from the bottle.

“Did she say what I think she just said?”
Marjorie dropped her knife and fork, her hands trembling in
shock.

“Don’t worry,” Olivia put a reassuring hand
on hers. “Grandpa says if we don’t understand what Auntie Eleanor
says just to ignore it.”

“I think it’s Clare’s business. Maybe we
should leave it at that,” David on cue thankfully announced.

From the corner of my eye I could see Guy
fold his napkin and draw back his chair. My heart started to pound
in my chest so hard I thought I was going into cardiac arrest. In a
dreamlike state, I watched him walk around the table until he stood
behind me, took my hand, and lifted me to my feet, supporting me
tightly around the waist.

“Glenda, I’m the one seeing your
daughter.”

My mother collapsed back down in her chair,
fanning herself with her napkin. Marjorie let out a huge wail, like
she had just been told she had weeks to live, and Victoria, well,
by the vacant look on her face, she either had not comprehended
what was happing, or she was wondering why she had not been privy
to this information.

“But you’re...” Mum stammered, trying to get
the words out, pointing to Guy.

“Guy is mixed raced, Granny,” came the
innocent voice of my daughter. Having interrogated Guy earlier, she
had learnt possibly more about his family than I actually knew.
“It’s when your daddy is black, and your mummy is white.”

David’s children began giggling. “Olivia, be
quiet,” reprimanded my brother.

“I’m only saying.” She slid down in her chair
sulking.

I heard Guy chuckling under his breath, in
amusement at my daughter. They had instantly formed a bond, Guy had
earlier taken me to one side, and said Olivia was an absolute
joy.

This was surely not the time for maternal
feelings?

He took a deep inhale to calm his voice. “I
think the words you are looking for, Glenda, are older than your
daughter. Yes, that is true, but I also love her very much.”

“You do?” The shock of hearing those words
released my vocal cords. However, I never imagined that the first
time Guy told me he loved me that family and, God forbid, Marjorie
would present.

Mum found a new lease of energy and jumped
back up. “Trevor, say something. She’s your daughter, too,” wafting
her hands frantically at my father.

I couldn’t bear to look at my father, to see
the look of disappointment that would be on his face. I had to
physically will myself to turn my head.

“I’m sorry, Glenda. I think its excellent
news.”

“Poppy cock, Trevor. You actually think that
this relationship has a future?”

“You said yourself only the other day you’d
never seen Clare so happy in years. Guy obviously makes her
happy.”

“Don’t talk ridiculous. How can this work? If
they had a child, Guy would be retiring before the poor mite went
to high school. Clare, what have you to say for yourself? Has the
cat got your tongue?”

What can I say? I am still in a state of
disbelief. I really thought Dad would be the one blowing a gasket,
after all the boys and men, including Phil, I’d taken home in the
past, and none had been good enough for his daughter. A phrase he
had never had to say to Eleanor. She had never been out long enough
with anyone. Look at him. I’ve not seen him this happy since I
graduated from University, the same big smile on his face like a
cat with two tails.

Heavens, I have to say something. That giant
vein in Mum’s temple is about to rupture. What am I going to say?
She has thought about things Guy and I have never even spoken
about. Does Guy want children? It doesn’t help matters that
everyone is looking at me, expecting an answer, and Guy squeezing
my side, whispering, “Just tell her how you feel.” Honestly, I feel
positively sick.

“Well, Clare, we are waiting.” The vein
pulsated harder the more agitated she became.

“Well...” I looked around the table.
“Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking, least of all about my
romantic intentions... I’m... I’m...”

“Good heavens, woman! What are you?” snarled,
my mother.

“I’m thankful for Guy. Yes, I’m thankful that
Guy came into my life. He is thoughtful, immensely loving, and I’m
a better person for meeting and falling in love with him. Is that
what you want to hear, Mum?” I felt Guys arms tighten around me, a
soft warm kiss on the side of my cheek.