The Good Life (10 page)

“Roxie? It’s Phil. Phil Barnaby. From high school.”

Phil? The name wasn’t ringing a bell, but how unbelievable was it that my ears were still popping from my flight, and I’d already run into someone I went to high school with? And I was naked! Ann Arbor is not a small city! Can the universe please give me a break here?

“We have your furniture. Is it okay if we go on in?”

“Yes!” I shouted. “Please put it all in the empty bedroom upstairs.”

“Gotcha.”

His head disappeared from the fence. I knew I shouldn’t let a bunch of delivery guys in the house unsupervised, but I was willing to take the risk. Then I remembered that Jake left his camera on the kitchen island, and it probably had his memory card in it. I couldn’t very well let his camera and photos get stolen on my first day in the house. Damnit!

I had no choice but to get out of the pool and get to my towel as quickly as possible. I hoped and prayed that no one was looking out any windows during those few moments. And I prayed even harder that if anyone
was
looking out a window, they weren’t recording it! Just my luck my boobs would be viral within the hour.

I made it into the house, braless but covered, made sure the camera was safe, signed for my furniture, thanked Phil who I still didn’t recognize and wondered if every quest on the GLL was going to turn into such an adventure. To be honest, I kind of hoped so.

I could definitely get used to this new life!

After spending the afternoon (seriously, a whole four hours!) putting my bedroom set together and proving to myself that I could make it on my own, I had a great time over at Allison’s. Adam had a rare few hours to spare and came over for a little bit, too. We grilled kabobs, drank some beer, had a bonfire, made s’mores for the kids and chased fireflies around the yard. You just can’t
do
stuff like that in Manhattan.

I wasn’t sure what to expect out of Jake when he got home from work that night. He used to be a real party animal back in the day, like a lot of people who work in that industry. I was half expecting him to bring a slutty cocktail waitress home after last call and bend her over the kitchen island. I definitely would have been annoyed by that. And not because I was still harboring feelings for him. I’d be annoyed if
any
roommate of mine was partying in the middle of the night or having sex in communal areas where we eat. Believe me, if I was a cast member on MTV’s
The Real World,
I would be having conniption fits in the confessional on a daily basis.

Either his chick was a very quiet lay, or he came home alone because I didn’t hear a thing. I slept very well on my comfy new pillow-top bed. I would have slept a lot longer, but I was awoken by the sound of someone banging on the front door just after nine.

I jumped up in bed thinking it was probably someone delivering a package for me. I had done some internet shopping over the weekend and bought new summer clothes and interview clothes to cheer myself up. I knew I had a serious credit card debt problem and should take a break from shopping for a while, but I thought I deserved just
one
divorce shopping spree. Besides, I shopped at H&M for practically pennies.

I knew Adam was already elbow-deep in surgery by that time, but I didn’t want Jake disturbed after working so late. I knew he wasn’t much of a morning person.

I got out of bed, threw my robe on over my cami and sleep shorts, and headed down the hallway toward the stairs. I stopped when I heard a woman’s voice.

“I don’t know who she was, but I would really appreciate it if you boys did not leave your girls here unsupervised. I have a thirteen-year-old and an eleven-year-old, and they do not need to look out their window and see naked women in your pool!”

I gasped, put a hand over my mouth and hid behind the wall upstairs to eavesdrop.

“I’m really sorry about that, Mrs. Kemp.” It was Jake’s voice!

OH. MY. GOD.
Is this is a joke?
Maybe Hope called and told Jake about the Good Life List and he set this all up as a prank? I could only hope.

“You know,” the woman continued, “she’s lucky my boys were still in school. They probably would have recorded it on their phones and showed it to all their friends. But you let her know they’ll be out of school in a week, and I would really appreciate it if she would wear a swimsuit from now on.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

I heard him close the door and head up the stairs. I pressed my back up against the wall in the hallway as hard as I could, like I thought I could actually disappear into it. I see people doing that in movies
all
the time. And I’m always thinking,
What a dumbass. Do you really think people can’t see you if you lean against a wall?
But there I was doing the same thing.

It turns out people
can
see you. Jake definitely saw
me
. He stopped, looked at me for about two seconds, gave me a dirty look and then went into his bedroom and slammed the door. If ever there was an appropriate time for me to do the slide-down-the-wall-and-put-my-head-in-my-hands move, it was now. But that move was a bit overplayed. Instead, I got back in bed and vowed never to leave my room again.

A half an hour later I was about to die of boredom. There was nothing to do in my room. No computer, no TV, no books. A person can only stare at the walls for so long. Jake was sleeping so there was no reason for me to hide out all day. I was trying to put my humiliation out of my mind and gather the courage to leave the room when I heard the sound of a truck’s brakes outside. Could it be a UPS or mail truck? Could it be my new clothes? I had paid extra for express shipping, so it was possible.

I left the room, ran downstairs and intercepted my package from the mail carrier before she even had a chance to knock. Then I took the box upstairs to try on my new clothes. I was used to more expensive fabrics but for the price I paid, I couldn’t complain. Even the bikini I bought looked pretty good. It was one size bigger than the infamous polka dot one I wore last week and the extra room made a big difference. The fact that I had hardly eaten anything in almost a week was helping the situation, too. No more muffin top! I guess that’s what they call the Divorce Diet.

It was just a plain turquoise bikini with an underwire top. They didn’t have a huge selection, but for $20 I didn’t care. At least I wouldn’t have to horrify the neighbors with nudity anymore.

Then I got an idea. One of my challenges on the GLL was to wash a car while wearing a bikini. I had a bikini now! And Jake had a car! Or a Jeep. Whatever. Same thing. Maybe if he woke up to a shiny clean Jeep he’d forgive me for the rude awakening this morning.

Look, I am not Paris Hilton or the 2005 version of Jessica Simpson. I’m not even the sweet and innocent girl-next-door who is hot without knowing it. Trust me. I’m all right but I’m not music video or hamburger commercial-worthy. The car wash was pretty much just that – a car wash. I didn’t put my pink sparkly lips to the hose water to give my pretty little tongue a drink. I didn’t squeeze the sponge over my chest to make soapy water drip down my cleavage. I didn’t rub my butt up against the car to scrub it with my bikini bottom. I didn’t have stilettos on. And Def Leopard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” wasn’t playing anywhere (except maybe in my head). But I was still embarrassed when I noticed Jake standing at the back door watching me. Creeper!

He opened the door and stepped out when he realized he’d been busted. He crossed his arms and leaned against the brick house. I set the sponge on the hood and crossed my arms, too, which just so happened to make my boobs look freaking amazing, if I do say so myself.

“You spy on people often?” I asked.

“Sounds like I missed a good opportunity yesterday, huh?”

I scowled and tried to act like I wasn’t embarrassed about both incidents. “Yeah, well, my suit didn’t arrive until this morning.”

He nodded. “I see. And what’s this little show about?”

“It’s not a show,” I said defensively. “I felt bad about this morning. I thought it would be a nice gesture is all.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture,” he paused and tilted his head in my direction, “or the uniform. I just didn’t know you were such an exhibitionist.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity. “I’m hardly exhibiting anything. Just working on my tan and washing a car. No. Big. Deal.”

I didn’t want to tell him about the GLL. He’d probably think it was dumb. Plus, I didn’t want him to know I’d gotten so boring since my wedding day that I now needed to follow a list just to have a semblance of a personality. Maybe I
wanted
him to think that skinny-dipping in the middle of the day and washing cars in a bikini was just part of my regular routine.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “I’m not really into mornings.”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry I caused you trouble in the first place.”

He shrugged. “I guess if you’re gonna cause trouble you should do it naked, right?”

I hoped he thought my cheeks were pink from the sun.

Jake told me he’d be editing photos on his computer for the afternoon and to take the Jeep if I needed it. I decided to take him up on the offer because there was no way I wanted to hang around there and experience any more embarrassing and awkward run-ins with him. Two in one day was more than enough.

After spending a few minutes on Craigslist and Monster, I put on my new interview outfit from H&M and headed out to look for a job. My first stop was an Italian “ristorante” that had posted an ad on Craigslist looking for servers with immediate availability. The restaurant, er, ristorante, didn’t open until four so I rang the doorbell per the instructions in the ad.

NOOOOO! No, no, no, no, no! Caroline Ganier answered the door. Caroline Ganier, AKA the bitch who stole my boyfriend during our senior year of high school.

CHAPTER EIGHT

His name was Riley. He was the star goaltender for our champion hockey team. You may remember the story about Winnie-the-Pooh, the guy who took my virginity. That was Riley. He was a master in the net, but a bit of a bore in the bedroom. Not that I minded. I was a high school student, not a porn star. I didn’t have anyone to compare him to anyway.

I liked having a hometown hero as a boyfriend. I felt that his popularity raised my worth as a person. During my freshman year, I just kind of blended in. I didn’t play any sports. I wasn’t in any clubs or the band. I didn’t shop at Abercrombie & Fitch. And even though I was really smart, I was too quiet to speak up in class, so no one knew it. No one really knew I existed.

After working on a Social Studies project together at the beginning of our sophomore year, Riley took an interest in me. Suddenly, everyone knew my name. People said hi to me in the halls. I went from being one of the last girls picked when we divided into teams in gym class to being one of the first, even though I had the athletic ability of a tree slug. I was invited to every party, went to every game, and there was always a seat saved for me at the hockey team’s table in the cafeteria – a seat many other girls were dying to sit in, including the Skank Queen, Caroline Ganier.

Go ahead and call me superficial if you haven’t done so already, but I liked having friends. I liked being social. I liked having fun on the weekends instead of reading
Sweet Valley High
in my bedroom. When you’re in high school, that kind of stuff matters.

We were the royal couple for the next two years. I was in the bleachers cheering him on at every game, including the away games. We went to every dance together and were both on Homecoming court during our junior and senior years. We were totally on our way to the coveted “Cutest Couple” spot in the yearbook.

It was the end of January, the morning of his 18
^th
birthday, and I woke up bright and early and headed over to Riley’s house with eighteen helium balloons in the trunk of my POS Buick.

I made a list of seventeen things I loved about him and then cut each item on the list into a little strip of paper about the size of the fortune in a fortune cookie. I put one strip of paper in each of the first seventeen balloons. In the last balloon, the big one that said
Happy Birthday
, I put two tickets to the Incubus concert the following weekend. I filled the balloons using the mini helium tank I’d bought at the party store. Once they were filled with helium I’d tied a string and one of his favorite candy bars to each balloon to weigh it down. It was a lot of work, but I loved every minute of it because it made me feel good to do nice things for people.

My intention was to get into his bedroom before he woke up and set the balloons around his bed so that when he woke up he’d be surrounded by balloons. I’d already made arrangements with his mother to let me into his room that morning.

It was 7:30am when I arrived. I knew nobody who’d been hitting the beer bong with the guys the night before would be up that early. I unloaded the balloons from the car carefully as not to get the strings tangled together. I lightly knocked on the front door. His mom answered right away since she knew I was coming.