Seduced (6 page)

The next day after work I get an “emergency” text from my mom, asking if I can meet her and Valerie to talk about the baby shower. I figure it’s something stupid, and text her that it will have to wait until after work. The last pseudo-emergency powwow was held because the tablecloths weren’t the exact same tint of pink as the ribbon for the backs of the chairs.

Ugh.

Personally, I think Valerie has way too much time on her hands, and my mom is only feeding her obsession because she’s addicted to party planning and finds her life’s joy in fussing over Every. Single. Detail.

Maybe that’s a little too harsh. I know she’s excited about the baby and being a grandma. Valerie, on the other hand, has always been a little bit of a princess. Her husband, Tom, has only made things worse because he gives her everything she wants without question. He’s some hoity-toity businessman who works way too much and gives Valerie the highly coveted, limitless Amex card to keep her quiet about his workaholic tendencies.

Sure, it’s textbook dysfunction, but it seems to work for them. I keep thoughts like that to myself…for the most part.

After work, I text Brandon: “I’m headed to the party planning front lines. If I’m not home by ten, please send backup.”

Instantly, my phone buzzes: “Copy that. I’ll make dinner.” 

I text back: “And by ‘dinner’ you mean a pitcher of margaritas, right?”

An hour later, I arrive at Valerie and Tom’s mansion just outside the Seattle city limits. On the drive over, I mentally rehearsed what I would say about moving to California. I figure if I’m going to have an audience with both of them, I might as well rip off that Band-Aid too.

I park in the driveway, and take a deep breath before cutting the engine and going up the walk to the front doors.

“Baby sis!” Valerie exclaims as she opens the door.

I have no idea why she calls me that. It’s always grated on my nerves.

I plaster on a smile. “Hello Val.” I pat her round tummy. “How’s my niece today?”

“She’s amazing. Come in and I’ll show you the latest sonogram pictures.”

I follow her into the monstrous house and go to her gourmet kitchen, where everything is stainless steel and granite. Valerie retrieves a large envelope from a drawer, and pulls out the black and white pictures, and hands them to me.

The pictures take my breath away. It’s so amazing to think that there is this little person just waiting to come into the world. Valerie and I may have our differences but I am going to have to set all that aside when she has her baby. I want to be the best auntie ever!

I take one last look and then carefully slide the pictures back into the envelope and hand it back to Valerie. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s up in the nursery. Come on,” she says, heading towards the staircase.

We go upstairs and down a hallway that seems to go on forever, before arriving at the nursery. I gasp when I walk in. I’m not sure there is a theme, per se, unless color counts as a theme.

Everything is pink: pink stuffed animals, pink walls, pink clothes, pink bedding, and pink curtains.

“What do you think?” My mom asks, beaming. She is sitting in a—pink—chair in the corner.

“Love, right?” Valerie says, expectantly. “The designers just finished last week.”

The fact that she paid someone money to do this, disturbs me.

She is beaming and I can’t bring myself to burst her bubble.

Her big, obnoxious, pink bubble.

“It’s great, Val. I’ve never seen anything like it before!”

Which is completely true.

“Tom thinks it’s a little over the top. I think he is just secretly hoping the doctors are wrong and that it’s a boy. But it’s a girl, I can tell.” She cradles her baby bump.

Oh, how I hope so. Otherwise…poor kid. I doubt there is a paint primer in the world that could cover this up.

“So what’s the big emergency?” I ask, wanting to get down to business and get out of this room before the color pink is forever ruined for me.

“Well, I was calling the bakery today to change the flavor of the top tier of the cake, and it seems they ‘misplaced’ the order for the other pastries and desserts we were going to have,” Valerie says, using air quotes. “They offered to put in the order now, and they said it could still all be done, but I just can’t trust anything they say now, so I cancelled the whole order.”

“You cancelled the whole thing?” I say, my mind reeling with the implication.

Who cancels something like that with just about a month to go until the shower?

“Yes, Charity, I can’t work with people like that.”

Valerie, that’s who.

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Val, clearly they purposely lost an order that was worth thousands of dollars of business. That makes total sense.”

I’m so glad I drove an hour for this…

“Now, now Charity, this isn’t the time to argue. We just need to find a solution,” my mom chimes in from the corner.

“I’ve called my second and third choices, but they are all booked up.”

“You only called two other places?”

“Yes Charity. I simply do not have time to call all over town. Besides, I want to make sure everything will be perfect. I can’t trust just anyone with this, you know. A lot of very important people will be coming.” Valerie sighs with exasperation.

It takes all of my energy not to reach out and slap her. I look to my mom for some support but she is nodding along with every word Valerie says.

I should have known.

I close my eyes and start to rub my temples. Memo to self: text Brandon that I’m going to need a Xanax to go with that pitcher of margaritas.

“Anyways, what we wanted to know is if the café you work at could do the desserts and the cake instead,” Valerie continues, turning to me.

I’m speechless. She gets turned down by three of the top bakeries in Seattle, that probably have a six month wait list, but expects a little small-town café in the middle of nowhere to pull everything out of thin air and to be able match up to her impossible standards, to boot.

“Valerie, I think we need to back up here. Think about what you’re asking.”

Both of them snap to look at me, and I start to feel like I’m in hostage negotiations.

“What do you mean?” Valerie’s voice is shrill.

“I’m just saying we’re a small café. We don’t have the space or resources to put out an order like that, and I’ve never even attempted to decorate a cake before with anything other than a basic frosting. I add sprinkles if I’m feeling adventurous!”

I’ve seen the sketch of the original cake order. It’s a four-tiered monstrosity with handmade figurines based on pictures of her as a baby.

“What you’re asking is impossible.”

“Can’t you just get some extra helpers and make a production line or something?” My mom asks.

Wow.

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Just give me the order, I’ll figure it out, somehow.”

“Perfect!” Valerie exclaims, throwing her arms around me. “I knew you’d save the day!”

Oh my word. Talk about a pregnancy-hormone roller coaster ride.

Poor Tom
, I think, having a sudden surge of sympathy for my brother-in-law.

Since they both seem so happy with me—at the moment—I decide that now is as good a time as any to tell them about Brandon.

“There is one other thing I need to bring up,” I say.

“What’s that dear?” My mom asks from her perch.

“It’s not really about the baby shower, more about what will happen afterwards.”

“Oh, that’s simple,” my mother interrupts. “Your father and I are going to stay here while Valerie is in labor, and then you can come up too, so we can each take turns going to the hospital. I expect you’ll be able to take some time off from work, Charity. After all, how often does your sister have a baby?”

“Okay, well that’s good to know. But actually, what I was going to say is that I won’t be here for the birth, but I will fly back as soon as I get the call.”

They both look confused. “What are you talking about? Are you going on vacation?” This time Valerie interrupts.

“Well, not exactly. Brandon and I are back together, and he’s asked me to move to California with him when he goes back to shoot his next movie. But don’t worry we don’t leave for another six weeks, so I’ll be here for the shower.” I explain, hurrying to get everything out before they can interrupt again.

“
What
!” they both scream at the same time.

“You are not going to believe this!” I shout as I burst through the front door. I step out of my shoes and kick them across the room.

Brandon pokes his head around the corner.

I start to shrug out of my coat, but my elbow gets caught in the sleeve.

“Fuck!” In frustration, I start to violently thrash my arms around, trying to get out, but that only makes it worse. I stomp around the entryway as I struggle to escape.

Brandon crosses the room and calmly pulls the jacket off. “What the hell happened over there?”

I shake my head, not sure where to start.

I stare at my discarded shoes for a moment before picking them up and setting them by the front door, side by side.

I take a deep breath and slowly release it, before launching into the whole story.

“Everything was fine until I told them about us and moving to California. I don’t even know what possessed me to bring it up. I should have known they’d be unsupportive. Everything with your family had gone so well, that I figured it would go as well with mine too. Maybe I am an idiot.”

“What? Hold on. What exactly did they say?” Brandon asks. His eyebrows are knit together in concern.

“Well my mother told me she thinks I should take some more time to think it over since it’s such a big decision. And Valerie flat out told me that I’m being an idiot for thinking it will work,” I answer.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. That’s my family—a delightful bunch,” I mutter.

“I’m sorry, Cherry.” He kisses my forehead and pulls me into his arms. “Do you think it’d help if I went to talk to them? Then they can grill me and get it over with.”

I smile at his offer. “No, I don’t think so. I doubt it would help.”

“All right, so what do you want to do about it?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing we can do. Before I left, I told them if they aren’t going to be supportive, they can just stay away from me and keep out of my business. So I’m pretty sure they’re going to be pissed off for a while and not talk to me. Well you know, unless something
really
important comes up. Like a lost order of tea cups!”  

I groan and flop onto the couch.

“Is that dinner?” I say, suddenly noticing the smells coming from the kitchen, almost smoky.

“Oh, shit!” Brandon bolts back to the kitchen. “It’s okay! Just a little…well done.”

I laugh and follow him. He has three things on the stove. One of the pots is bubbling over, and the frying pan is smoking. Brandon fans his hands around, trying to dissipate the smell. He lifts the lid, and I catch a glimpse of what appears to be some kind of meat, but it’s pretty much charcoal at this point.

“You know, the recipe made this all seem a lot easier.” He looks disgruntled as he takes his creation and dumps it into the trash. “You sure you want to get into the cookbook industry? Seems like a racket to me.”

“What was it you were trying to make?” I ask, trying not to giggle. He looks beyond ridiculous in my hot pink apron with oven mitts on both of his hands, mumbling under his breath as he shuffles around trying to get things under control.

He starts to answer, but the smoke alarm starts blaring.

“Son of a bitch!” he yells.

I completely lose it and start cracking up. I laugh until it hurts, and I have tears in my eyes. Brandon manages to get the fire alarm to stop screeching and shoots me a dirty look. “Well I’m glad you’re entertained.”

“I’m sorry, babe, but you have no idea how crazy you look right now!”

He looks down at himself and rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine, the pink apron might be a bit much.” He begins to laugh too. “Although, let the record show, that I am secure enough in my masculinity to wear pink!”

“Oh, babe, you totally rock the pink!” I wink at him.

When we stop laughing, he suggests we order pizza and I hastily agree.

Brandon goes into the other room to call in the order, and I start working on the kitchen. I fill the sink with hot water and start to tackle the pots and pans after dumping the rest of the wrecked food into the garbage.

I’m busy scrubbing away, when his arms wrap around me and he presses into me, holding me tightly. “So, I did get some news today. Should I wait till you’ve had one of these?” he says before releasing me to pour me a margarita from the pitcher on the opposite counter.

“That depends. Is this good news or bad news?” I ask. I wipe my hands off before reaching for the glass and taking a deep gulp of the frozen beverage. I lean back against the sink and wait for him to continue.

“I’m being honored at this banquet for new and upcoming actors,” he says. “The organizers of the event want me to give a speech.”

“Oh my gosh! That’s great news! Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Cherry,” he says. “There’s only one problem.”

“What?” I ask, suddenly not sure I want to hear the rest.

“Well it’s not for a few weeks, but my manager wants to use it as some sort of publicity springboard and get me on some talk shows and have me do some magazine stuff, so I kind of need to get back to LA sooner than we had originally talked about.”

“How soon?”

“As soon as possible, really. He’s trying to have things lined up as early as next week.”

I nod, absorbing his words and the implications.

“I know. It’s terrible timing, but he’s right. I have to take advantage of the exposure,” he says. “I called my mom already, and she said I should go. She’s been feeling a lot better. Her exact words were that she no longer needs a warden.”

I smile, knowing that’s exactly how she would have said it.

“I figured I could go, and then you can come join me whenever you’re ready. I know it will take time to get things settled here.”

My mind fills with everything that needs to be done. I have to give my notice at work, tell my landlord, pack everything, find a way to ship it, say my good-byes…

I push back the wave of anxiety and look into Brandon’s eyes, and in that moment I realize that he is my home. The only place I want to be is with him. All the other stuff can be sorted. It’s just details.

“It will take a little finagling, but I think I can manage with that timeline.”

Brandon looks shocked. “Really?”

“I might turn into a Tasmanian devil, but yeah,” I say with a smile. “Let the adventure begin!”