What's Life Without the Sprinkles? (12 page)

His words had all come out in a rush, but Nate knew where he was coming from. “Look, Justin, I’m going to be straight with you, okay?”

A brief hesitation and then Justin said, “Okay.”

“Your mom does her best job with you. And part of her best job is to make sure that you’re loved and to also make sure that if you have to talk to someone you know you can talk to her, even if it’s an uncomfortable conversation.”

Justin’s sigh gusted through the phone. “I know.”

“So part of that whole thing involves her bringing up subjects that you might think don’t need to be talked about but ones your mom isn’t sure how you feel about, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it follows that she wants you to know you can talk to her about Peter if you want. I know she hasn’t always said a lot about him, hardly anyone does, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.”

“I wish he didn’t.”

“But if he didn’t, then you wouldn’t, and that would take a certain midget light out of
my
life.” A laugh from Justin followed that felt like a pot of gold at the end of this thorny rainbow.

“Yeah, who would you have to trounce you at basketball if I wasn’t around?”

“No one, and that would be so sad for my ego.” Nate smiled and sat on the end of his bed. “Look, my best advice is to go in there today and show Peter what a good guy you are and what a great job your mom has done raising you. You don’t have to interact with him any more than you want to, but I know your Aunt May is anxious for you to meet Peter, since this is the first time he’s come home after you were born. But you have every right to treat him like a stranger. You don’t have to call him Dad or give him a hug or anything. You just go in, say hi, tell him you love your mom, and then walk out with your head up. He’s the one who lacks something, not you. He’s the one who missed out, not you, and certainly not your mom. You’re a great guy, and he’ll know that right away. Got it?”

“You’re the best, Nate. Thanks for not getting all girly-gushy on me.”

“That’s what guys are for, Justin. Hang in there. Give your mom a break in all this, and have a good time. I can’t wait to see what Roger thinks you want from his possessions. Maybe he’ll give you one of those dead stuffed animal heads on the wall of his study.”

Justin pretended to gag, and they chatted for a few more moments before Justin said his grandparents were there to pick him up and his mom was banging on the door. Nate set the phone down on the nightstand and stood massaging the back of his neck for a moment. He hoped he had done the right thing. It felt like the right thing, so it couldn’t be all bad.

Grabbing his towel, he moved toward the shower again. And the phone rang, again. He really needed to think about installing Caller ID. Who else was calling him on a Sunday morning?

“Hello?”

“Hey, Nate, my boyo,” his grandmother said in far too frail a voice. “You need to come over here and help your granny. I think I’m not in too good a shape, and your mom’s out doing some grocery shopping while all those churchgoers are pretending to do more than preen in their fancy clothes. Might be a heart attack or something. If you could hurry?”

Nate was already out the door and in his car with the cordless still against his ear. “I’ll be right there.” He floored it, not caring that he only wore sleeping pants and yesterday’s T-shirt.

Throwing the phone on the seat, he made a beeline for his mom’s house and whatever happened to be waiting for him there. It looked like he might not be able to make the lunch today, but he was sure Claudia and Justin would do just fine without him tagging along to run interference that they wouldn’t need. They were strong and had each other. They always had.

****

“For the last time, Zoe, I’m fine!” Claudia enunciated each word clearly and slowly, as if explaining a particularly difficult concept to a small child. They had an hour left until the lunch at May’s, and Zoe had not let up, even for a second, since Claudia had tromped into her room hoping to escape Zoe’s presence and unwanted fashion consult on Claudia’s closet.

Slamming the armoire door closed, Claudia whipped around, blonde hair flying in her face, to stare her sister down. She knew she sounded bitchy, but she didn’t care anymore. This day could just go right to hell. She’d gladly provide the handbasket.

She understood that Zoe wanted her to look good for this meeting, to “wow” Peter, in Zoe’s words. But after her initial thoughts of panic and making him miss what he’d thrown away, she no longer wanted to deal with that kind of crap. She just wanted to survive it. He would be gone soon, and she wouldn’t be a thought in his head—the same as it had been for ten years. Dressing the part of some vixen was not going to change that. In fact, she didn’t want it to. Part of her almost wanted to dress dowdy so as not to draw attention to herself. Pull out another pair of flats and fade into the wallpaper. Though that went against everything female inside her, it was still tempting. Not that Zoe the Harpy would let her.

In the end, she’d decided she was actually going to pull a Peter—get in, get what she wanted, and get the hell out before the fireworks started.

Zoe flopped onto her back on Claudia’s satin bedspread and heaved an exaggerated sigh as she lifted her sandal-clad feet into the air and pointed her painted toes toward the ceiling. “All I’m saying is that you should at least think about wearing something sexy. It would be good for your ego, especially now. You can go, devastate him wearing one of your new fabulous dresses, and leave him breathing hard.”

“This from the woman who won’t even give a certain lawyer a chance? I find it hard to believe you feel that way.” Claudia stuck her tongue out, but then immediately turned serious. “And it’s not that simple. Sure, the awe at my current beauty would be great, but what if Peter tries to talk to me? What do I do then? ‘Hi, Peter, how are you? It’s been a long time. Oh, by the way, your son is growing like a weed and becoming a wonderful person along the way, but I guess that wasn’t important enough for even a phone call in the last ten years? Your whole family was able to connect with this great kid in some way, but not you.’ That would go over really well.” Her voice almost dripped with sarcasm. She took great satisfaction in slamming hangers back and forth in her closet, looking for something to wear that said, “I did fine without you, now go home!”

Zoe had been only fifteen when Peter left Claudia pregnant, but she was one of the few people Claudia had confided in when she was scared, terrified of giving birth and doing it alone. Of all people, Claudia thought her sister understood. She’d been there when Claudia had peed on the first pregnancy indicator—and the second, and the third. She’d gone with Claudia to all her doctor’s appointments. She’d held Claudia’s hand when Claudia had told their parents that she was going to have a baby. Why was she pushing so hard, knowing so much about how this was not some lark?

For her part, Zoe wasn’t without sympathy. “I’ll tell you what, Claude. I’ll walk in first and do reconnaissance. I’ll keep him distracted and won’t let him talk to you at all. But I still think you should wear the sexy outfit, or at least one that shows off a little cleavage. And your hair has to be perfect. He needs to pay at least a little for walking out.” Zoe stopped and stared at her feet as she rotated her ankles clockwise—her only brush with exercise.

“I’m not interested in him paying for anything.” But in her head she couldn’t deny the little spark of something that said it wouldn’t be a bad thing to look great when she had to face Peter again. She’d ignore him, but if he couldn’t ignore her… Well, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

She shooed Zoe out and got down to the business of looking fabulous. She ignored the ringing phone, trusting Zoe to get it while she pulled out her brushes, compacts, lipstick, and eyeliner.

“Are you ready?” Zoe called through the door twenty minutes later. Thankfully, May had chosen the day the shop was closed to have this lunch, since everyone was involved, but Zoe was driving her crazy with being a time cop.

Claudia thunked her head against her dressing table. This was such an incredibly, horribly bad idea. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t sit in the same room with Peter without a care in the world. She had been thinking exactly nothing. She shouldn’t be going at all.

“Come on, Claude. We need to leave right now if we’re going to get to May’s on time.” She banged on the door this time, probably to emphasize her point.

Not that Claudia needed any kind of emphasis. Her stomach was already heaving with rabid squirrels.

More knocking.

“Damn it, Zoe, I’m coming.” Shoving herself up from the padded vanity chair, she took one last minute to check her hair and her makeup. She looked fine. She wasn’t going to worry about it anymore. Either she was ready or she wasn’t. It was as simple as that.

And beyond that, she wasn’t the one who had left. He was, so he should be the one worrying about how he looked and what his reception would be like.

“Come on, Claudia, put a rush on it. We need to go!”

More banging, and Claudia wanted to bang her head against the wall. “I’m coming. Hold your freaking horses.” She satisfied her need to bang by slamming her bedroom door open and stalking down the hall. “You wanted me to take the time to look fabulous, and now all of a sudden you’re trying to rush me out of the house. What gives? Mom and Dad aren’t picking up Justin from church for another half an hour, and lunch doesn’t even start until at least one. What’s the rush?”

Zoe flicked her hair over her shoulder and looked over Claudia’s shoulder at the wedding picture that had hung on the wall since their mother and father had originally lived here twenty years ago.

“Zoe, I’m over here.” Claudia snapped her fingers.

“Yep. Ready to go?”

Claudia planted herself in front of her sister. “No, I’m ready to hear what’s going on that you won’t look at me.”

The phone chose that moment to ring.

“Okay, let’s get a move on. We don’t want to be late for the lunch. That would be horribly rude, wouldn’t it? To be late? So, we should go. Right now. Right. Now.” Zoe pushed and prodded, but Claudia leaned back against her as best she could in her three-inch heels.

The answering machine kicked on a second before Claudia snatched the cordless phone off the end table. She stood with the phone in her hand while their message played. Then she cut her eyes over to Zoe when a man started talking.

“Zoe? Did we have a bad connection or another malfunction? I’m waiting for your answer regarding dinner. You have my card, please call back. And let your business partners know all the paperwork will be ready in a few weeks. Perhaps we could have that champagne toast to celebrate. I’ll look forward to hearing from you and hopefully seeing you again soon.”

The machine beeped and the message light flickered. Claudia took her time turning toward Zoe. She placed a hand on her hip and used the other hand to point the phone at her sister. “And who might that be?”

“That might be Grandma.” Zoe shrugged and continued to avoid all eye contact.

“Try again. Grandma didn’t start taking testosterone in the last three days since I talked to her.”

“That might be Justin’s principal calling to see if you want a parent-teacher meeting.”

“Didn’t sound like it to me.” Claudia dropped the phone on the couch.

Zoe heaved a sigh. “That might be our lawyer, who won’t take no for an answer.”

“And why would our lawyer be calling you about champagne celebrations?”

“We really should get going.” Zoe headed out the door with Claudia close on her heels.

“But I want to talk about Mr. Zegray,” Claudia said in a sing-song voice as they walked down the outside staircase. “Or is it Dexter? The Dex-Man. Is he ambi-Dex-trous?”

Color shot into Zoe’s face. “It’s Dex.” She opened the car door and practically threw herself into the driver’s seat.

“Ooh, Dex. And is Dex a total paper-bag wearer? Is he a doggie? Was he thwacked by the ugly stick? Need extra deodorant? A candidate for the Darwin Award? I thought he made you hot to trot.”

Cranking the key too hard, Zoe whipped around and faced Claudia. “No, all right? No, he’s not a doggie. He’s actually extremely cute and pretty damn sexy, too. But he’s a total Dog with a capital D.”

“Oh, sorry.” Claudia clipped her seatbelt and smoothed her dress over her thighs. She let the silence hang in the air for a few blocks while Zoe drove with her eyes straight forward. “So, really cute?”

Zoe sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “Extremely cute.”

“Irrefutable proof he’s a capital-D Dog?”

Another sigh. “I don’t know how else you can explain five bouquets to five different women in as many weeks.”

“Oh.” Yeah, that didn’t look good, and even though Claudia might want her sister to get out and actually find someone who would make her heart sing, she also didn’t want her to get crushed before she even made it out the door. A womanizer was a sure way to get stomped.

“Yeah, sucks.” Zoe made the left onto May’s street.

“But Uncle Al likes him.”

“Just because he could be a good lawyer doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a good human being.”

And didn’t that just about sum it up? Peter had been a good person but a miserable father-to-be for the few months he’d stuck around. Nate was oblivious and was a good friend, but there was no guarantee he’d be a better lover than a friend. Why couldn’t things be simpler? And this was a funny time to be asking that question, since she was about to walk into the figurative lion’s den and come head to head with Peter for the first time in a long time.

****

It was a letdown to get all the way to May’s and have Peter out and about somewhere. Claudia had wanted to walk in, face him down, and then have that over with. Instead she would have to wait. She was not very good at waiting.

May came into the kitchen where Claudia was taking a breather for a moment in anticipation of Peter coming back. She had been trying to think where she should be when he arrived so as not to be caught off guard or in a position of less power. The kitchen was her only option at this point. The familiar environment was calming to her nerves. And if things got too bad, she could always whip up a cake to burn off some of her nervous energy.