PICTURE OF JERRY --------------------------------------------->>>>>
14
To: Deana Carter <d.carter@darrenbarnesandco.com>
From: Gabrielle Carter <gabbiecarter@freemail.com>
April 6th, 2011 16:23
Darling,
Something’s come up.
We’re going to have to make that lunch a dinner now.
Still at Opal. Still tomorrow. Say. . . 7:30?
See you!
Ta, for now!
Mom.
Just great. What if I’d had other plans? Not that I did, but still.
To: Sheila McMurray <sheilamcmurray@santabarbaracooperative.com>
From: Deana Carter <d.carter@darrenbarnesandco.com>
April 6th, 2011 16:27
Hey Sheila.
You free right now?
Just heading over to Five Points.
In need of SERIOUS retail therapy.
You in?
Dee.
X
I grabbed my keys and bag and headed out. I was heading off to the elevators when I ran into Brad.
“You’re back?” I said, excited.
He’d gone to Vegas for a bachelor party at the weekend with Greg and Jeremy. They were supposed to have been back on Sunday, but I guess they’d been having too much fun, they’d stayed till Wednesday – since the wedding was in Nevada anyway.
He grinned. “That was one hell of a weekend!”
I raised my brows. “More like week. Where are um . . . Greg and Jeremy?” I asked, trying not to seem too interested.
He chuckled. “They stayed. Weren’t quite ready to get back to reality.”
I opened my mouth in shock. “You came back first?”
He frowned. “It was between me and Jeremy, you know, because of this huge deal. So, we decided to go Rock-Paper-Scissors. I went with stupid paper!”
“Aw! You’re not going to cry are you?” I asked, jokingly.
“Oh, I already did. Into my fluffy pink pillow last night”, he said, sarcastically.
I giggled and shook my head.
“Well, I have to go. I need new shoes to spice up my life”, I said, walking backwards.
He rolled his eyes and walked off, shoulders slumped.
Typical guy!
*
“What do you think about these ones?” I asked Sheila, as I held up a pair of tie back suede heel boots.
We were at Tilly’s, looking for shoes, mainly. Sheila wanted a dress for some function she was having at work, but she didn’t seem to be able to find any that she liked.
She was sitting on a sofa by the wall, leaning back, with her eyes closed. She’d been acting really weird all day, but I just assumed it was work stress.
“Yeah, they’re fine”, she answered, not even opening her eyes.
I sighed. I really needed to do something fun; all I’d been doing for the past week was work – non-stop, but as much as I enjoyed it, I needed a break for talks about color tones, paper types, inks, lamina and all that.
“Sheila, what is up with you?”, I asked, putting down the boots. They weren’t that great anyway.
She looked up at me. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m just tired. Come on, let’s look at proper heels”, she said, getting up, with what I knew was a fully forced smile.
I knew something was up, but I knew she’d tell me when she was ready, so I didn’t push it.
I ended up getting a pair of fuchsia wave platform heels and then, we decided to grab a bite at Hashigo Sushi; it was happy hour.
I ordered a Terriyaki Chicken bowl and Sheila just went with Spicy Tuna Tartar.
I was looking through the dessert menu when she said, Um . . . Dee, I kind of need to talk to you about something”, fingering the salt and pepper shakers.
Right on cue. “What is it?” I asked.
She was silent for a while, and then she said, “Um . . . I . . . – ”
I was getting worried; Sheila wasn’t one to hesitate.
“Sheila? Did something happen with you and Jerry?”
She sighed. “Sort of. I’m pregnant”, she said, looking up.
I squealed. “Oh My God! That’s great!” She stared at me blankly and I stopped. “That is great, right? You don’t look very joyful.”
“I don’t think I’m going to keep it”, she said, silently.
I gasped. “What?”
“I’m not ready for a kid, you know. I mean, Jerry doesn’t even want kids. We’ve got our jobs and all that. What am I going to do when it comes? Quit? Take a leave? I can’t do that”, she said, shrugging.
I frowned. “Sheila, no one’s ever ready”, I said.
”Yeah, but I don’t know how to be a parent. I mean, you’ve seen me with Willow. I suck at it”, she said, shaking her head.
“But, this is going to be your kid. It’ll be different”, I replied.
“I don’t know, Dee”, she whispered.
“Have you told Jerry?” I asked.
“No. I don’t even know how I’m going to. He said it on our first date; he hates anything shorter than three feet”, she answered.
“But that was ages ago! He’s probably changed his mind”, I said.
“Well, even if he has, I haven’t. I don’t know what I want to do”, she mumbled.
“I know what you’re going to do though”, I replied, smiling.
She was absentmindedly stroking her stomach.
“It’s me and Jerry, you know”, she whispered.
I grinned. “It is.”
We sat there in silence for a while and then she scrunched up her face.
“Ugh. Can we leave? This smells awful”, she said, getting up.
I giggled, and linked my arm in hers. “Come on, preggo!”
*
I stepped into Opal in my new shoes and a short grey matte draped jersey dress. The Maitre d’ wasn’t at the front desk, so I looked around for my mother. She was seated in the far corner, at the other end of the room. I walked over, crossing my fingers tight, and hoping that time would fly by. I love my mother, but dinner, juts me and her, in a confined space; who knew what would happen? – with knives all over the place.
“Mom?” I said, nodding at her, and plopping into the seat across from her.
“Deana!” she said, enthusiastically, “How are you, darling?”
I frowned. “What’s wrong? You never call me ‘darling’”, I said, eyeing her warily, as I took a seat.
“Yes I do”, she answered, signaling the waiter, to come over.
“We’ll have the Cabernet Sauvignon first, and a third placing please”, she said to the waiter.
“A third placing? Who’s joining us?” I asked.
Right then, I heard heels clacking behind me. I spun around.
“Rosie”, I said, shaking my head, “I should have known.”
Rosie plopped onto the third seat shyly and said, “Hi Deana. You look good”, quietly.
“Thank you”, I replied, and turned to my mom. “Mom? Is this an intervention or something?”
“Of course not! I just want to have a lovely dinner with my two single daughters”, she said, grinning.
“Mom, I have a boyfriend”, Rosie said.
My mom snorted. “Boy? You have a friend, Rosie. Let’s leave it at that.”
I sighed and picked up the menu, scanning it.
“You’re not leaving?” Rosie asked.
“Nope. I came to eat, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do”, I replied, not looking up.
My mom clapped her hands together. “Perfect!”
She called the waiter over again, and we ordered our food; which came in less than twenty minutes. Twenty long minutes of my mother going on and on about her childhood, and how much she would have loved a sister.
The food arrived, ending her reminiscences, as we dug in.
“So, Deana, how’s work?” Rosie asked, making polite conversation.
“It’s good”, I replied, stuffing my face with a piece of steak.
“Deana, tell Rosie what you’re working on right now”, my mom said with a smile.
Did she really think I couldn’t see right through her whole façade?
I stuffed my mouth with a larger piece of grilled chicken and took my time chewing it. Their gazes were fixed on me, as they waited for my reply.
They didn’t seem to be shifting their gazes or veering from the topic, so I swallowed.
“Um . . . Ben & Jerry’s”, I mumbled. I really wasn’t in the mood to make polite conversation with my mother and sister, so I was trying to down the food as fast as I could.
“Go on”, my mom said.
“It’s graphics”, I replied. They looked at me, expecting me to continue, but I just stuffed my face some more.
“So, Matthew tells me you’re seeing someone. Do I know him?”, my mom asked.
I sighed. There it was. I knew he – as in, Matt, not Jeremy – was bound to come up sometime. I took my last forkful of food.
Rosie raised her brows.
“I’m not seeing anyone, mom”, I replied.
“So, who did he see you with at the Four Seasons? He seemed to know the man, but he just wouldn’t say”, she went on.
“Did you ever think for a second, that maybe Matt’s on crack?” I asked, with a frown.
He sees me with another guy and goes running off to my mother; a guy who wasn’t even interested in me. How much more pathetic could he get?
My mom laughed. “Matthew’s a perfectly nice young man. I think he wants to try again with you, actually”, she said, nodding.
I really couldn’t take anymore.
“As fun as this was, I have to go”, I said, putting down my fork.
“Don’t be silly, Deana. You’re not going to leave in the middle of a lovely meal”, my mom said.
“Is it cause of me? Deana, I wish you knew how sorry I am for – ”
“Rosie, to be honest, I’m not even mad. I wish I were, it’d make me feel like less of a pushover, but I’m not mad”, I said, shrugging.
“But you haven’t talked to me in weeks”, she said, silently.
She could be such a kid sometimes.
“You didn’t even try to call. How do you know I wasn’t talking to you?”
“There! Communication!”, my mom said, excitedly.
I pushed back my chair and stood up
“Then, why are you leaving?” Rosie asked.
“Because I’m not going to sit here and make polite conversation when I was conned into this in the first place”, I said.
“Deana, sit down”, my mom said.
“Mom, I’m not making a scene at Opal. Thank you so much for dinner; I loved it, but I’m going home”, I said, calmly, as I turned around.
I heard her say, “That girl is not the child I raised”, as I walked off.
I stepped out of the restaurant and into the cool night air. I pulled out my phone and called a cab. There didn’t seem to be any for miles. Just lots of sleek looking cars, speeding back and forth.
Just then, a motorcycle sped by so fast, it was like it hadn’t even been there. What kind of psycho drives so fast that he nearly kills himself. I looked up and down the roads, to see if any cabs happened to be hiding out of view. No luck.
The motorcycle guy sped back again. I shook my head and stepped farther back up the sidewalk. I really hoped the cab would come soon, before I got crushed.
A few minutes later, the guy on the motorcycle stopped right by me. I swallowed.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left Rosie and my mother. I mean, it was probably much safer in there than out here, with creepy stalker speeding motorcycle guys. The guy put up his visor.
“Hey”, he said, in that all too familiar expressionless voice.
My eyes widened, and my brows went way up. “Jeremy???”