Thursdays At Eight (28 page)

THURSDAY MORNING BREAKFAST CLUB

I
t was barely November, and already Christmas decorations were up. Clare pulled into the strip mall where Mocha Moments was located, noting that Liz Kenyon's Seville was parked out front. Knowing her friend, Clare suspected Liz had ordered her croissant and coffee, and had their window table secured.

The air was cool and damp this morning, with a breeze coming in from the Pacific, but Clare didn't mind. The Santa Ana winds had dried out the valley these past few months, and the moisture was a refreshing change.

Clare entered the coffee shop, waving to Liz, and read over the menu, although she always ordered the same thing. When the group had first started meeting, her double-shot espresso, bitter and strong, had matched her mood.

“Espresso and currant scone, right?” the young man behind the counter said, obviously proud of his memory.

“Normally yes, but I'm in the mood for something different this morning.”

The teenager's face showed surprise.

“I'll have a pecan roll and coffee,” she told him, deciding quickly. It was time for a change.

“Coming right up,” he said, bouncing back with a cheerful smile.

When her order was ready, Clare joined Liz and was followed only a couple of minutes later by Karen. Julia arrived last, with Zachary in his carrier; she set him in the middle of the table.

They took turns peeking at the baby, wrapped in his exquisite hand-knit, yellow blanket. In some ways, this precious little boy belonged to the entire Thursday morning group. Like the other women, Clare had invested a great deal of emotion in Zachary. The infant's successful struggle for life brought balance to the loss she had so recently suffered. She was thrilled to see that he was thriving.

“It's almost time for us to come up with another word for the year,” Liz said once they'd all sat down with their orders. “For next year, I mean.”

“Already?” Clare protested. “You're as bad as these mall people putting up Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving.”

“What are we supposed to do with the word from this year?” Karen asked.

“What was your word?” With so much on her mind, Clare had forgotten.

“Acceptance,” Karen told her.

“Did you learn anything from it?” This came from Liz.

Karen took a sip of her peppermint-flavored latte and mulled over the question. “Yes, I think I have. A year ago, I was constantly arguing with my mother over which direction I should take. I was so sure I knew what was right for me.
She
thought I should be a teacher. Go figure.” Karen made a mocking face. “Then there was Victoria.” She paused, apparently thinking it
all out. “When I chose
acceptance,
I wanted my mother to accept me for who I am. I wanted her to appreciate me.”

“She apparently knows you better than you know yourself.”

Karen nodded. “I never realized how much I'd enjoy a classroom, but I'm loving every minute of it. My mother has her annoying little habits, but then we all do. She only wants what's best for me and for Victoria.”

Clare exchanged a look with Liz. This was Karen speaking? Wow, what a difference in less than a year!

“Over the last few months, I've learned that I needed to accept myself first. I wanted Mom to be proud of me, the way she was of my sister. At the same time, I resisted that feeling and tried to be as different from Victoria as possible.”

“I don't know what Victoria would have done without you,” Liz said.

Karen dismissed the praise and seemed almost embarrassed by it. “She's my sister.”

“Get back to your word,” Julia urged. “I want to know what you learned.”

“What I learned,” Karen repeated slowly. “Okay. I thought I wanted to act, to work in theater and film, and I do, but I don't need to look for my self-worth in a credit scrolling down some screen. I've discovered something better.”

“Teaching high-school drama classes,” Julia supplied.

“No,” Karen teased, “regular meals.”

They all laughed.

“Being on stage is great fun, but sharing my love of the stage with others is even more compelling.”

“That's great.” Clare was genuinely pleased for her.

“What's the latest on your sister?” Liz asked.

“Ah, yes,” Karen said, frowning. “As you already know, Roger's serving a six-month jail term. Victoria's seeing a coun
selor and with the help of my parents and Roger's, she's back in her own home. She loves her job selling commercial real estate, and seems to have a real knack for it. Mom and I are both confident that she's going to be just fine.”

“What about Bryce?” Julia asked.

“He's in a day care facility three days a week and my mother takes him on Monday and Fridays.”

“Sounds like an excellent solution,” Liz said.

“Is Victoria going to file for divorce?” Clare wanted to know.

“I don't think she's decided yet,” Karen said. “She'd prefer not to go the divorce route, but she might not have any option. Naturally, the twit is saying all the right things—he would, with his job on the line—but Victoria needs proof that he's changed first. They'll continue living apart while Roger proves himself.”

“I'd hate to see a repeat of the abuse.”

“Victoria's being very careful. She's taking it nice and slow, and not making any major decisions until she's had time to work everything through with her counselor.”

“Good for her,” Liz said.

Karen heaved a sigh. “There's something else about
acceptance.
Glen and I are seriously discussing marriage.”

“He proposed?” Julia cried excitedly.

“Well…yes.”

“And you've accepted,” Clare finished for her. Making the connection.

Karen's face beamed with happiness and she nodded. “He's perfect for me. It's amazing how well we balance each other. Oh, guys, I'm so in love.”

“That's the way it's supposed to be,” Liz said. “When's the wedding?”

“May,” Karen informed them. “I already have my new word.
Bride.
”

Clare exchanged smiles with Liz. It wouldn't surprise her if next year Liz announced that she was marrying Dr. Jamison.

“What was your word again, Liz?” Clare asked,

“Time,”
Liz reminded them. “Last January I hit a real low point in my life.”

Clare remembered how lost Liz had been without her family around her.

“It seemed as if all the good years had somehow slipped through my fingers. I felt as though time was disappearing and taking with it everything I'd wanted to accomplish and never would.” She frowned. “I suppose I was afraid of living the rest of my life alone. It was bad enough when I lost Steve, but then without the children around me, the loneliness seemed so much worse.”

Clare would soon face that herself when both Mick and Alex left for college. The thought of coming home to an empty house every night filled her with dread, and yet the boys were so seldom there that in practical terms it woudn't make much difference.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Julia asked.

“No.” Liz's look was thoughtful. “
Time
is still a good word for me, but not for the reasons I assumed. This is
my time.
In the last twelve months, I've learned to relax and enjoy every single minute.”

“You forgot to mention that it's also your time to fall in love.”

Liz smiled. “Falling in love,” she echoed. “I feel like I'm in high school again. Silly, isn't it?”

“No,” Julia insisted with a wistful sigh of her own. “I think it's wonderful.”

“And so unexpected,” Liz added. “I always said I didn't need a man in my life and I don't.”

“But it's certainly a bonus,” Karen piped up.

“I think what stands out the most for me,” Liz said with a glimmer of amusement, “is that it takes a hell of a man to replace no man.”

“What?” Karen asked, frowning. “I don't get it.”

“I do,” Clare said.

“A hell of a man to replace no man,” Karen repeated thoughtfully, then slowly nodded. “I understand now. You discovered that you liked your life, and Dr. Jamison sort of complements the…the
serenity
you found all on your own.”

“I couldn't have said it better myself,” Liz agreed.

“Well, I've discovered I like my life, too,” Karen said, happiness shining in her eyes. “Who would've believed I'd marry a man my mother approved of? Certainly not me, and Mom's wild about Glen. She thinks he's the best thing that ever happened to me. Which he is.”

“What about you, Clare?” Liz asked. “What was your word for the year?”

Talk about ironies.
“Faithful,”
she reminded her friends. “I chose it in anger on New Year's Day. At the time, I was trapped in bitterness. I remember thinking
I
was the one who'd always been faithful—to Michael, to our family and to myself.”

“You
were
faithful—right to the very end.” Julia's voice was so quiet, the others had to strain to hear.

“Yes,” Clare replied, “but not in the way I'd anticipated.”

“I can't tell you how much I admire what you did for Michael,” Liz told her.

Clare looked away, embarrassed by the praise. A year ago she would've laughed in the face of anyone who dared to suggest she'd bring Michael back into the family home. Yet she had. She'd nursed him, loved him and together with her sons, she'd buried him.

“I did learn a valuable lesson this year,” Clare said, struggling to keep the emotion out of her voice.

“What was that?” Liz asked.

She wasn't sure she could adequately put her thoughts into words. “I hated Michael for what he'd done to me and the boys. I mean, I
really
hated him. I didn't dare let any of you know how intense my anger with him was for fear you'd think I should be locked away.”

Her friends silently studied her and Clare had the feeling that her confession hadn't come as any big shock. They knew and had always known.

“And I loved him,” she said. “Deeply and totally. Despite everything. In the end I forgave him—and I forgave myself. In ways I thought were impossible, I
was
faithful—to both of us. To what we'd been and…and to the people we really were.” Flustered, she waved her hand and looked away. “I'm not expressing myself very well.”

“Yes, you are,” Liz countered, reaching for her hand and briefly squeezing it. “You're making perfect sense.”

Clare laughed, the sound deep and throaty, and the noise startled Zachary awake. Julia deftly dealt with her son, bringing him into her arms.

“I had an epiphany of my own this last year. My word was
gratitude
but it should have been
surprise!
”

They all laughed again, garnering interest from the people who sat around them.

“I remember the day you told us you were pregnant,” Karen said, grinning down at Zachary who looked back at her with big beautiful blue eyes.

“A baby at this time of my life. Oh, pleasssse, say it isn't so.”

The laughter rang out again.

“Our family's working as a team now,” Julia said. “I'm
amazed at Adam and Zoe and how unselfish they've become for Zack. What an incredible blessing he's been.”

He gurgled as though to add his own comment.

“The last few months have been hectic,” she continued. “It isn't easy having a newborn in the house, especially a preemie who needs a lot of extra care. Starting over with another child is a challenge, I'll grant you that—but I wouldn't change a thing.”

“You said you had an epiphany?”

“Basically that's it,” Julia said. “I realized that I
can
have it all. The big beautiful home, the husband and family, plus the career. Just not at the same time. I will return to my shop, but not until it's right for Zack.”

“That is so wise,” Karen said, as though in awe.

“You'd be surprised how smart we all are,” Clare said, “you included.” She wanted Karen to realize her contribution to the group.

So here they were, the four of them, each at a different place in her life. They could laugh together and cry together and often did, sometimes both at once. To everything there is a season, and these were the seasons of their lives.

Four women, all friends, who met every Thursday morning at eight.