A Little Bit of Déjà Vu (11 page)

“Sorry, Pal. I didn’t mean to burst your bubble. This is great news. If all goes well, I’ll finally be able to nail that bastard to the wall. That is....if you’ll do me a favor on Monday.”

“Like what?” The trepidation in Phil’s question indicated he hadn’t forgotten the backlash after he’d loosened the screws on Alex’s desk chair to keep his teammate from playing.

A whole lot of good it had done. That bastard, Jake, had only given Phil ten minutes of game time before the scouts got there, and then he’d yanked Howard’s son all because of a couple of incomplete passes.

When Howard’s wife found out he’d encouraged his son to sabotage his rival, it had nearly ended his marriage—especially after Debbie heard the rumors about Howard putting the moves on Kevin’s snooty reading teacher.

But hell, he’d been pissed off at his wife and hadn’t gotten laid in two months. It had taken a diamond tennis bracelet and a boatload of groveling to convince Debbie to patch things up and bring their three-year-old daughter back home.

“Don’t worry, Son. It’s nothing like last fall,” Howard assured his son. “I just need you to plant something in Coach Manion’s classroom.”

“You got some kind of phony evidence to frame him?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that.” Not after Debbie’s reaction last go-round. “Still, don’t say anything to your mother. With your help, I’m hoping to get something legit I can use. I’ll be damned if I’ll let that prick get tenure.”

~~~

“How about a snack before I take you home?” Alex braked to a stop at a traffic light. “You barely ate any of your dinner.”

Emma rubbed her stomach. Somehow he always seemed to know when she was hungry. In the last month, her belly had gotten as hard as a watermelon. Pretty soon it would be as big as one. “That sounds good. Just as long as we go someplace other than the diner.”

She had no desire to watch Brandy jiggle her big boobs at Alex again that night.

“Ice cream at Friendly’s?”

“Mmmm. I’ve had a craving for pistachio all week.”

He smiled and reached for her hand to squeeze it. “Just as long as you don’t order any pickles with it.”

While he drove to the ice cream parlor, she tried to imagine what her dad’s reaction would’ve been to their news. Most likely he would’ve been just as opposed to them getting married as Alex’s father was.

They’d driven around all evening and talked, but they hadn’t really settled anything.

“You know, I don’t blame your dad for being upset. He’s invested a lot into helping you train. He wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t disappointed at the thought of you blowing your shot at the pros.”

“I know. But I could do that just as easily without getting married.”

She studied him in the dim light from the headlights behind them. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” His jaw flexed as he stared ahead at the road.

Obviously
nothing
was something.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is Penn State’s a lot bigger pond, and I’m gonna be a minnow there. For all we know, I could get cut from the team the first week of training.”

“Yeah, right. Everyone knows the only reason our high school won the state championship for the last three years is ‘cause of you.”

“Tell that to fumbling Phil and his fulminating father.”

Emma smiled. Now she understood why Alex had scored so high on his SATs. She had to go home a look up
fulminate
. No way would she admit to him she had no idea what it meant. Nothing good she was sure, since he’d been describing Dr. Carmichael.”

The creepy chiropractor’s son, Phil, had been Alex’s rival for the position of quarterback for four years running. The jerk was constantly challenging Alex to stupid contests ranging from how many push-ups they could do to the number of hot dogs they could wolf down without barfing.

“And don’t forget, Em, football is a team sport. My dad’s coaching had a lot more to do with those championships than anything one player ever did, regardless of whether it was me or Carmichael in the huddle.”

She couldn’t stand the guy. From the day she started school back in September, he’d been hitting on her and making lewd remarks. And since she’d started dating Alex, Phil had only gotten cruder.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t complain to Alex or Mr. M. They had enough problems with the pervert and his father, Dr. Carmichael, who had made a scene at practically every game that season, badmouthing Alex’s performance on the field and trying to undermine his dad’s coaching decisions.

“Speak of the devil,” Alex muttered as he opened her car door at Friendly’s.

Phil strutted up to the Aston Martin, accompanied by several of Alex’s football buddies. The jerk wore his red hair spiked and shaved nearly to the scalp on the sides. In his white T-shirt, the big goon reminded her of Foghorn Leghorn.

“So, Emma, I hear you’re not the sweet little priss you pretend to be.” The big rooster turned and sneered at Alex. “What’d your dad say about you knocking up your girlfriend?”

Alex grabbed Phil by his T-shirt and rammed him against the fender. “You’d better shut your filthy trap, Carmichael, or you’re gonna need daddy to give you an adjustment after I get through beating the shit outta you.”

“Please, Alex, don’t start anything.” Emma tugged on his arm. “The maggot’s not worth it. Let’s just go inside.”

Apparently, someone had overheard their conversation at the diner earlier. If she had to guess, she’d bet Brandy’s big yap had spread the news.

Alex shoved Carmichael away and took Emma’s hand, muttering as he led her to the ice cream parlor’s door, “I didn’t start that. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let that son of a bitch talk about you that way.”

Greg Stenchler, Alex’s best friend, chased after them. “Hey, man, I’m sorry to hear about—
you know
. Is there anything I can do?”

“Thanks, Stench, we appreciate the offer.” Alex lightly punched his friend’s arm. “It’s not a problem. We’re getting married.” He stared down at her. The pleading look in his eyes mirrored her uncertainty. “Aren’t we, Em?”

She loved him so much. She couldn’t say no. “Right.” She smiled. “Two weeks from tomorrow. So don’t make any plans.”

~~~

Finally alone for the first time that evening, Margie wept all the way home. By the time she arrived at her condo’s complex, her despair had transformed into anger and resentment. Hadn’t she had enough to deal with in the last fourteen months?

Margie squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t handle this. At eighteen, she’d run from her mother’s domination straight into the arms of her thirty-three-year-old husband who’d cosseted and sheltered her. Dan’s insecurities had kept Margie isolated as much as her mother ever had. Sure, his absences for work had taught Margie to handle all the day-to-day emergencies. But she’d never been totally on her own before, dealing with tough situations like this.

“Thirty-seven is too young to be a grandmother,” she mumbled as she let herself into the condo. She flung open all the windows and breathed the scent of freshly cut grass. The unusually warm year had given them practically no spring. It was nice to finally let in some fresh air.

She picked up the portable phone in the living room and punched out her cousin’s number in San Diego. At the sound of Barbara’s voice, Margie blasted her. “I hope you’re happy!”

“I guess this means you finally met up with each other, huh?” Barbara laughed.

“It’s not funny.”

“Sure, it is. I did it for your own good, Margie. You need to get on with your life.”

“You never did tell me how you found out where he worked.”

“I saw his old roommate at a party and found out Jake’s divorced. I told Chris about your situation, and about two weeks later, he e-mailed me the job listing I sent you. We just thought if you had a second chance—”

“No, the two of you didn’t
think
. That’s your whole problem. You never have.”

“If you’re referring to Jake’s party, I’ve apologized a thousand times. It’s not my fault the girl I really hired had car trouble and showed up two hours late. Chris was the one who assumed you were her.”

“But he didn’t give me a glass of spiked punch and then ditch me to go make out with some jock. I still don’t understand why they asked
you
to hire a call girl. How’d you even know where to find one?”

Dead silence filled the line for a moment, and then Barbara sighed. “Believe me, Coz, I’m not proud of it. But you know what a skinflint my father was.”

Margie’s mouth dropped open. “Ohmygosh. Are you telling me you were a—”

“Yes,” Barbara murmured, “I worked for an escort service to put myself through college. But I only slept with guys I was attracted to. You may not believe it, but lots of girls have sex for money at some point in their lives. I read somewhere it’s about one out of a hundred.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“I know. I’m just trying to explain.” Barbara’s voice cracked into a sob. “I never told anyone before, but....” Several seconds ticked by while she left Margie hanging, wondering what had gotten her cousin so emotional.

“What?”

“I’d been spreading my legs for my old man since I was ten, so it didn’t seem so bad to—”

“Your dad?” Margie squeezed her eyes shut. And she thought she’d had a miserable childhood having no father. “I’m sorry. Why didn’t you ever—”

“Why does any kid let someone molest her? I was afraid of him. He threatened to hurt my mom if I didn’t let him do whatever he wanted to me.”

And Margie had actually felt sorry for the monster when he’d died so young.

“I figured if I could let a pig like him rape me all those years, why not allow guys I actually liked to screw me and make a little cash while I was at it.”

“You’re not still—”

“No, of course not. That all changed when I met Ryan.”

“Does he know what you used to do?”

“He was the last guy I propositioned. Ryan’s such a white knight, he saw it as his duty to save me. He told me he wouldn’t pay me for sex, but he’d buy me dinner for a kiss goodnight.”

Margie knew there was a reason she liked her cousin’s husband.

“Anyway, what’s the big deal about seeing Jake again? I’d think you’d be glad to have a second chance with him.”

“The big deal is, not only has my daughter ended up dating his son, I found out tonight I’m about to become a grandmother.”

Barbara gasped. “You’re joking, right?”

“I wish I was. The kids want to get married two weeks from tomorrow.” Margie quit pacing and flopped into the recliner. “Which means Jake and I will be in-laws and celebrating our holidays together for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, Margie, I’m so sorry. I never dreamed anything like this would happen. Did you say the wedding is in two weeks?”

“Unless we can change their minds.”

“Damn. Ryan’s parents are visiting then. I have forty people coming for a surprise party for him. I wish I had more notice.”

She wasn’t the only one.

“By the way, I saw your mom at the Memorial Day family picnic,” Barbara told her. “She was so thrilled to see the graduation picture you sent me of Emma. I gave it to her. So could you send me another one?”

Margie dropped her chin to her chest and moaned. “I really wish you hadn’t done that. My mother didn’t want any part of her first grandchild. She doesn’t deserve—”

“Don’t you think it’s about time you let the past go and stopped punishing her? Hell, Margie, if you could forgive me—”

“It’s not the same thing. What you did was a genuine mistake. What she did was monstrous. A good mother could never do to her child—”

“She’s not getting any younger, you know. Pretty soon it may be too late.”

Margie’s stomach lurched. “She’s not sick, is she?”

“Do you care?”

“Of course I care, she’s my mother. What kind of daughter would I be to wish something bad to happen to her?”

“My point exactly. Angry or not, you
love
her. Holding a grudge isn’t you. I don’t know anyone more merciful, gracious, and compassionate. But when it comes to your mom and Jake, you won’t bend. Why can’t you just cut them both a break?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t.” Maybe if she ever managed to forgive herself, she’d be able to let them off the hook, too. A set of headlights flashed outside the windows. “Listen, I think Em’s home. I want to talk to her before she goes to bed.”

“Okay, give her a kiss for me, and tell her I hope she and Alex are very happy together. I’ll be sending her a card and great big check. And Margie,” Barbara added before she hung up, “think about giving your mom a call. For your own sake if not hers.”

When Emma crept in the door a moment later, Margie followed her daughter to her tiny bedroom. “So why’d you need to spring your news on me like that, Em? I didn’t appreciate being put on the spot in front of Alex’s dad. Didn’t you think you could come to me?”

Emma twisted her mouth. “I guess, after all your lectures about waiting, I thought you might freak.”

“Have I ever freaked over anything?”

“No.” She hung her head. “But there’s always a first time. I never did anything like this before.”

Good point. Emma had always been a model child. Other than typical adolescent surliness that she’d mostly outgrown, she’d never been any trouble. Until now.

Margie pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead. “Have you been to a doctor?”

“Just Planned Parenthood. But I know who I want to see. Mr. Manion had one of his neighbors who’s a gynecologist and obstetrician talk to our class about birth control and sexually transmitted diseases. Dr. Brennan seemed really nice.”

“Okay. I’m making you an appoin—” Margie snapped her mouth shut, hearing the echo of her mother’s overbearing voice in her head.

Emma prodded Margie’s shoulder. “What’s the matter, Mom? You have a funny look on your face.”

“N-nothing. Call tomorrow and make an appointment—and take Alex with you. You need to start taking some prenatal vitamins. You’re not eating right.”

“I’m already taking them. So? What’d you think of Mr. Manion? Isn’t he the greatest?”

Greatest what
? Margie captured her lip between her teeth. She couldn’t tell her daughter her true opinion of him without explaining why she felt the way she did. “He’s very nice, Em.”