Say Never (34 page)

Still, the kitchen trash probably needs to be taken out. Or the recyclables. I walk into the kitchen and head for the bins, and my heart drops when I see that Danny has already taken them out.
Damn it.
But Godiva is outside. She should probably come in. It’s chilly out there, even for a Lab with a coat thicker than a ski parka.

I open the back door and call her name. Instantly, she bounds into the kitchen, her nails clacking on the floor. She licks my shoes then noses my crotch then races over to her dog bed and collapses. I turn toward Matt’s house and see that all the windows are dark.

He probably has a date,
I think.
With someone young and available and geographically desirable who doesn’t turn into a total bitch after he kisses her.

I slam the door shut just as the house phone starts to ring. Annoyed with myself for thinking too much about Matt, I march to the phone on the kitchen counter.

“Hello?”

“Oh. You’re still there, good,” Caroline says, and the sound of her voice causes my shoulders to shoot to my ears. “Do you think you can bring me my pajamas with the grey cows on them?”

“Danny and the kids already left, Caroline,” I say tersely. “They’re stopping for dinner on the way.”

A pause. “You’re not coming?” Her voice is quiet on the other end of the line.

“Well, obviously I’m bummed about missing out on the chicken-fried steak at Applebee’s, but, you know, what can you do?”

“I was sort of hoping you’d come,” she says, and I choke out a laugh.

“Why? So you can check every inch of your kids’ bodies for injuries right in front of my face? So you can berate me for all my failings just to amuse yourself?”

“Meg, I…No, I wasn’t planning on that. I trust you. I thought yesterday we came to a…you know…a truce.”

“That’s what I thought, Caroline, right up until you sent Patsy Gates over to check up on me and humiliate me!”

There is a pause on the line, then:

“I didn’t, Meg, I swear. I haven’t talked to Patsy since Monday!”

It’s my turn to pause. Finally, my brain makes the right connections and I sigh. “You didn’t call her yesterday?”

“No. Why? Did she come to the house?”

“Caroline, I know you think Patsy Gates is your BFF and all, but if I were you, I’d get your ass home before she cooks her way right into Danny’s heart.”

My sister-in-law laughs suddenly and enthusiastically. “She made him garlic chicken, didn’t she?”

“Yes. She did. And that’s funny because…?”

“Oh, Meg. Housewives and mothers get very few thrills in their lives. We take them where we can. Patsy Gates has had a thing for Danny forever.”

“And you don’t mind? You’ve never called her on it?”

“Why should I? He is totally oblivious, and by the way he would never cheat on me with the likes of her, so what’s the harm?”

“I don’t know, but it all seems very
Desperate Housewives
to me
.
”

“Like I said, we get our thrills where we can. I’m stuck in here, you know? But there’s a physical therapist who kind of rocks my world even though he’s young enough to be my… nephew. Gives great leg stretches.”

“Caroline, you slut!” I say this without rancor and am relieved when she laughs along with me. The tightness in my chest eases as I suddenly realize I don’t hate my sister-in-law anymore. “Okay, so why did you want me to come tonight?”

“It’s just that you were kind of a buffer with Cera yesterday. I thought she’d be more relaxed with me if you were here.”

“Just talk to her, Caroline. You’re a mom. You know how to do that better than me. Ask her about her birthday cake.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks, Meg.”

“Just be cool. She’ll come around.”

“So, what are you going to do with no kids in the house?” I hear the grin in her voice.

“What do you think I’m gonna do?” I ask.

“Bathe,” she says and we both laugh.

Nineteen

Guest:
As a parent, your primary job is your children. Your career should never get in the way of being one hundred percent invested in your children’s lives.

Meg:
Which is why I’m never having kids. Seriously, you don’t get a 401K plan from wiping runny noses.

* * *

“You’re not picking me up today?”

McKenna’s voice trembles slightly.

“Your dad’s picking you up, honey. I have a meeting.”

She bites her lower lip. “Okay. But what about the letter?”

“Just give it to your teacher and she’ll give it to Mr. Paulson and everything will be okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” I say solemnly.
And if it’s not, I’m going to come back and kick some Principal-Paulson-ass.
“Hey, it’s Friday! Your last day before Thanksgiving break! You get to stay late and have a party.” I know about the party because I had to scramble to the market at 6:30 this morning to buy some pumpkin muffins for the class. Missed the flyer yesterday afternoon, what with the whole apology letter-thing.

“Your outfit is perfect, too,” I tell her and give her an admiring once over. “Very festive.”

My niece asked me to help her get dressed this morning, and together we chose a brown skirt, an orange and yellow top, and beige suede boots which I told her would represent the fall colors. She had no idea what I was talking about, but went along with it anyway, much to my delight. She even chose a Dora clutch bag to round out the ensemble. (It doesn’t match perfectly, what with Dora’s stupid purple shirt, but I didn’t want to squelch her enthusiasm.)

I chuck her under her chin. “Just enjoy yourself today and steer clear of you-know-who.”

“Dumb-witty,” she whispers, then grins up at me. I put my finger to my lips to shush her, but I’m grinning too.

* * *

I drop Cera and Tebow with Danny at his office building on Beach Boulevard on my way to PCH. My brother is waiting for me in the parking lot with the trunk of the Camry yawning open.

The three of them are going on a little adventure this afternoon before picking up McKenna at 4:30. During a heated interrogation at the breakfast table this morning, throughout which my step-niece rolled her eyes, Danny discovered that Cera has never been to the Queen Mary or the Aquarium of the Pacific. And because he wants her to feel important and part of the family, Danny is bending over backwards to quote-unquote make her dreams come true. (I mentioned to him that Cera’s dreams are probably more geared toward watching Justin Bieber videos on YouTube all day, but Danny was not to be swayed.)

“This is stupid,” Cera complains as we pull in next to the Camry. “Who cares about the Queen Mary? It’s just a big boat.”

“Yes, it is. But it also has a lot of history.” I hope she doesn’t ask me exactly what ‘history’ I’m talking about, because frankly, I haven’t a clue. “And the Aquarium is very cool,” I add, before she can inquire further about the ‘big boat.’

“I don’t think it’s cool to imprison sea-life. How would you feel if you were trapped in a tiny glass cage with the same stupid fish surrounding you all day and all night and you could never escape and be free to do your own thing?”

I’ve been feeling that way for about five days now
, I think. “At least they don’t have to be worried about being eaten by great whites or orcas, right?”

I shut off the engine and see Danny swing around the back of the Camaro. I turn to Cera and force her to meet my eyes.

“Look, this is important to Danny. He’s doing this for you, Cera. I know it goes against your nature, but please, make an effort to be nice to him.”

“Why do you care whether or not I’m nice to him?”

I squint at her. “Because he’s my brother and I love him.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” she says. Danny taps on the glass of the passenger window.

“What does that mean?” I ask her.

“Well, you live far away and you never come visit.”

I think about her words for a few seconds as Danny taps again impatiently.

“Kind of like you, huh? But we’re both here now, Cera. I’m trying to make the best of it. How about you?”

She considers this, then takes a deep breath and yanks open her door. “Hi, Danny!” she exclaims brightly as she steps to the pavement. “I’m super-excited about the Queen Mary and the Aquarium!” She leans back into the car and gives me a wide-eyed look.

“Smart ass,” I whisper to her, but when I glance at Danny, I see that he has a goofy smile on his face.

I get out of the Camaro and transfer the stroller and diaper bag to the Camry, then pull a lethargic Tebow from his car seat and hand him to my brother. He fusses a little in Danny’s arms and reaches a hand out to me. My heart gives a slight tug as I intertwine my fingers with his.

“See you later, alligator,” I tell him, then plant a kiss on his clammy forehead.

“Blerandluch!” he replies.

“Too bad you can’t come with us,” Danny says to me. “We’re going to have a great time, aren’t we guys?”

Cera, who is staring at the ground with a bored expression, immediately perks up into a lithium frenzy. “Oh, for sure. It’s going to be totally awesome beyond words to describe it!”

“Down, girl,” I say. “Yeah, I’m real sorry to miss it, but, you know. Work.”

Danny gives my arm a squeeze. “Good luck at lunch. I hope it goes well.”

“Thanks, bro,” I say as I get behind the wheel. With a wave, I pull out of the parking lot and head for the ocean.

* * *

Eileen Buchanan has chosen a lovely (two star) café just north of Seal Beach for our meeting, which was very considerate of her since KTOC is located in Santa Monica and therefore a far longer drive for her than for me. Traffic on PCH is moving quickly, giving me little opportunity to appreciate the view of the ocean. But every time I stop for a light, my eyes are drawn to the shoreline. It’s another beautiful day in Southern California, crisp and clear and sunny. I’m certain if I lived here, I would get bored by the endless perfect days, but I admit, I’ve enjoyed this last week of not having to layer up every time I go outside. (Although I do miss my pashmina scarf and my winter coat which I got at Saks Fifth Avenue last year. What would I do with those out here?)

I reach the restaurant a full ten minutes before our designated time of 12:30. I find metered parking on a side street and I’m just stepping out of the car when my cell phone rings. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer.

“Meg Monroe.”

“Meg, Gordon.”

Oh, crap.

“Gordon! It’s about freaking time.”

“Well, gee, Meg, I’m sorry if I haven’t been able to return your call in a timely manner due to the fact that I’m running my ass off around here trying to make sense out of chaos.” His tone is biting, not a good sign. “You know, I sure do wish you’d come to me about wanting to leave. Instead, I have to hear it from a third party.”

“Gordon, I don’t want to leave. I swear! You know how much the show means to me. Barry is lying through his teeth!”

“Barry has nothing to do with this, Meg—”

“The hell he doesn’t,” I cry. “He’s feeding you this bullshit about me meeting with another station out here.”

“KTOC, right?” he says, and my stomach drops.

“Gordon, I am not meeting with KTOC.” Not yet, anyway. Not for about five more minutes…

“I know you are, Meg. I spoke with KTOC this morning.”

I feel a seizure coming on. “You what?”

“I did a little covert reconnaissance. I used to be an investigative reporter, you know.”

A million years ago, he was. Got kicked out of the White House for heckling George W’s chief of staff during a press conference, or so the story goes. I push the thought aside and focus on his voice.

“You should have talked to me, Meg. You should have let me know you were unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy, Gordon. You have to believe me.” I count to ten in my head while trying to suck in oxygen. Spots appear before my eyes and I grab the side-view mirror with my free hand to steady myself. My mind is reeling as I try to process what Gordon is saying. He knows about KTOC. How did this happen? Doesn’t matter. All that matters is doing damage control.

“I came out here to take care of my nieces and nephew,” I say in a rush. “That’s the truth. But KTOC wanted to talk to me, and I figured if they made an offer, I could use it as leverage to get a better contract with you.”

Gordon is quiet on the other end of the line. The seconds tick by.

“I just don’t know what to say, Meg. I gave you your shot, here, remember? I fought for you. And now you’ve gone behind my back with all of these shenanigans. What am I supposed to think? Barry is a total asshole, but at least he’s honest about being an asshole.”

“Look, Gordon, he started this whole thing because he wants the show to himself. He can’t control me. He wants a co-host who’ll do what he says. That’s what this is about.”