Family Affair (25 page)

"So much for the bad hip," Graciela whispered in Chase's ear.

"For goodness sake's get me up," Stella said.

Chase and Peggy helped her up and into a chair.

"That was the biggest rabbit I've ever seen," Addison said.

Chase closed the gate that separated the front yard from the rest of the property. The dogs had failed Socialization 101.

Later that night, Chase had her head resting on Gitana's swollen belly. "I wanted today to be perfect for Bud, instead all we got was dysfunction."

"It wasn't so bad except your mother's high heels sinking in the driveway..."

"And Stella thinking your mother was our housekeeper."

"Then there was the jack rabbit incident," Gitana said. She frowned slightly. "Three is a good number. Things happen in threes."

"Is that why the pump went out, the leaking kitchen faucet flooded the floor and the dishwasher doesn't drain properly?" Chase said. God, we need a good plumber. She wondered if Delia or Graciela had slept with a plumber who might be contacted.

"Exactly," Gitana said. She kissed Chase's forehead.

"At least no one lit themselves on fire," Chase said, rubbing Gitana's belly. "I'm sorry, Bud. I strive for perfection or at least a modicum of sanity in our family life and all we get is fubars."

Gitana ran her fingers through Chase's hair. "What do you want for Bud—Leave it to Beaver?"

Chase looked up at her. She could lie and tell her that it wasn't so, that whatever came was all right—that they'd get through it, but that's not what she wanted. "Yes, I do."

"Chase!"

"I can't help it."

"Come up here—right this minute."

"You sound pretty authoritative. We might need that when Bud becomes a teen." Chase crawled up next to her and stroked her face. "I'm sorry."

"This is real life, not your world. It is what it is."

"I know that deep down I do. I'll just have to get the rest of me on board."

"Besides, we have an interesting life with interesting people in it. That's good. Bud wouldn't like a normal life. It would be stifling. Bud is in the right family." She kissed Chase.

Chase found it comforting. She hoped that she could do the same for Bud whenever circumstances overwhelmed the island that was to be Bud's life.

"By the way, what does fubar stand for?"

"Fucked up beyond all recognition," Chase replied, as she straightened up the covers. She tucked Bud in with the sheet.

"That's lovely and perfect. I'm thinking that's one word Bud is authorized to use."

Annie groaned which indicated it was time to stop talking and shut off the light.

"You've got a lot of nerve, missy, considering you floored my mother." Chase reached down and scratched her ears.

Chapter Seventeen

"What are you looking at?" Chase said, as the dogs watched her pacing back and forth. She had all her novels out and was perusing select parts.

Jane whined. Annie sat at attention, her head turned to one side in that quizzical way dogs have—that look of wanting to read your thoughts and ease your heart.

"I'm fine," she assured them. "I just thought I'd go through some of my old things. I'm looking for parts of myself in my novels. If I compile all these parts I might have a more accurate picture of myself. It's not easy finding oneself, you know."

Jane jumped up on her and tried to lick her face. "Let's just relax here. Mama still has most of her marbles." She knelt down so the dogs could lick her face. They acted like they could kiss away whatever plagued her. They ended up pushing her until she was flat on her back and Annie sat on her chest while Jane licked her face. "Hey, hey, that's enough," Chase cried, trying to push them off. She wasn't successful. Luckily, Lacey came up the stairs to the writing studio and the dogs were instantly distracted.

"I can't believe you let them do that." She was dressed in what Chase called "town clothes."

"It's a doggy facial."

"Yuck." Lacey pushed Annie away as she tried to sniff her cervix. "I see clicker training was a failure. Weren't their private lessons supposed to put an end to that?"

"I don't have the clicker with me."

"You should have it. Where is it?"

"In the junk drawer," Chase said, getting up.

"Good place for it." Lacey flounced down on the couch.

Lacey and Bo were the only two people Chase knew that flounced. It was as if their bodies collapsed like a balloon when they were in the presence of furniture.

"Clicker training was designed to help Jane with her self-esteem training not Annie's crotch sniffing."

"She doesn't look like she has a self-esteem problem."

Jane had hopped on Chase's faux leather office chair and looked at them inquisitively as if to say in dog speak, "So what's on the agenda?"

Annie spotted the much-sought-after jack rabbit and bolted out the door. Jane spun off the chair leaving it rocking in her wake as she followed her sister.

Chase ignored their antics as commonplace. "Jane is taking an online course at the Carnegie Institute."

"Yeah, right." Lacey looked around. "Why is it so neat and organized in here? I can actually find the couch."

"Your perceptive abilities are outstanding." Chase gathered up her books and put them back in the cupboard. She didn't want the writers group to think she'd gone off to self-aggrandizement land. "It's my turn to host the writer's group." She remembered she hadn't washed out the coffeepot. Bo would be horrified if he so much as sniffed a less than sanitary decanter. She filled the sink in the kitchenette with soapy water. She pulled some cups from the overhead cabinet. They could use a washing as well, she decided.

Lacey came over to dry them. They stood in companionable silence. Then, it occurred to Chase that Lacey was doing a drive-by. She ventured out of the city only under unusual circumstances. The hinterland had no appeal despite the beauties of New Mexico. "Why are you here?" Chase asked.

Lacey dried a cup and avoided Chase's gaze. "What? Can't a friend drop by?"

"No one drops by where we live unless it's a neighbor in need of something like a shovel or a chainsaw." She handed Lacey another cup.

"All right, I came for a little chat."

"What's wrong?" Chase always imagined the worst—a brain tumor, death in the family, horrible car crash or strange diseases. She scrubbed out the coffee decanter more furiously than was necessary. The soapy water resembled a Jacuzzi.

"It's nothing terrible." She knew Chase too well. "I just have a question. You know, I got to thinking how in high school you always thought boys were gross and all they wanted was to stick it in you—that they had a boy smell and it made you sick."

"I don't get where this is leading." She rinsed the sparkling decanter. Lacey dried it. Between the two of them it looked brand-new. She stuck it in its cradle.

"Well, I met this guy. We've kind of been seeing each other." Lacey went to sit in Chase's computer chair, first wiping the dog hair from the seat.

Chase leaned up against the kitchen counter. "And?"

"We had dinner at his apartment. I mean it was nice and all but something was different." Lacey turned around in the chair. She was either looking out at the mountains or pretending to.

This was like trimming the dog's toenails, a combination of pleading and wrestling. "Different how? He decorated weird, he was wearing a toga when he answered the door, he had a tank full of piranhas and he wanted you to stick your hand in the tank, that kind of different?"

"No, it wasn't like that."

"Good God, Lacey, fucking spit it out."

Lacey turned to face her. "We started making out after dinner and well, it grossed me out. I mean, normally I'd be screwing him by now, but I didn't like what he was doing or trying to do."

"Maybe he just wasn't the right guy. He wasn't forceful or anything?" Chase didn't want to have to threaten to cut off his balls with her orchid pruners because he'd manhandled her best friend.

"No, nothing like that. I think he thought it was kind of sweet—like I was a virgin or something. I got all flustered and left."

Now Chase was really confused. She had some idea where this might be leading, but she preferred not to go in that direction. "Sometimes, even the best candidates don't float your boat."

"He is a nice guy, but I just didn't feel anything, you know, down there."

"Lacey, don't worry about it. You're not a spinster yet."

"You're a pillar of compassion."

"Thanks. Now you better hightail it before the writers group gets here unless you want to join."

"I can't even write a decent postcard."

Chase reached out and gave her a hug.

"I like the new you. You're much more user-friendly," Lacey said.

"Watch out for the jack rabbit on your way out."

"Stella told me what happened at the party."

"Why does she talk to you?" Chase inquired ruefully.

"Because I'm nice to her like you should be."

"I invited her to the barbeque didn't I?" Chase said defensively.

"Yeah, and then look at what you did," Lacey said, pointing at the computer screen saver. Chase had taken the photo of Stella wearing the sage green Crocs and through the miracle of Photoshop enlarged and stretched Stella's feet so they resembled

large clown shoes. "I couldn't help myself."

"I'm sure. Okay, I'm off. Tell Jasmine hi for me."

"You two are still hanging out?" Chase asked as Lacey headed down the stairs.

"From time to time," Lacey said over her shoulder.

"Uh-huh."

Since Chase hadn't finished her mystery novel, she begged off critique. "I've got to get it all down and then we can spend hours, weeks and months poring over it, but I don't want to stop now and think about it yet. Does that make sense?"