Oh, Rebecca obliged her.
Bec! Rachel cried, distressed she was not made ecstatic by the news. Have I steered you wrong yet? Dont you want to fall in love and
Rebeccas heart suddenly lurched. No! she said sharply. No, Rachel, I dont! I just got a divorce, remember?
Of course you do! And anyway, that divorce was months ago. So what, are you going to live alone all your life listening to sad songs on the radio? Listen, Someone very close
I heard you! But there is no one very close to me, and I am not unfulfilled! Im happy!
Get real! Being perfect does not necessarily equal happiness.
Whats that supposed to mean? Rebecca demanded.
What part did you not understand? The perfect part or the happy part?
Rebecca snorted. Will someone please explain to me why everyone is so concerned about my life?
Well. . . because we love you, Rachel said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. And Bud was a jerk. You deserve to be happy.
I am happy, Rebecca insisted, feeling, inexplicably, close to tears.
Whatever, Rachel said, clearly exasperated. Listen, I have to go. Im leaving for England Thursday and I have to finish Robins horoscope. Shes going to get a huge windfall in June!
Shell be thrilled, Rebecca said, and listened to Rachels singsong good-bye as she hung up.
Honestly, she wished Rachel would stop calling with her bullshit because Rebecca could never shake it from her thoughts. She certainly tossed and turned her way through that night (thanks, Rach!), staring long and hard at the shadows of leaves dappled in the moonlight on the old limestone wall of her room. By morning, she had reached a few wobbly conclusions: (A) One illicit encounter did not a romance make, and in fact, Matts great looks aside (really fabulous looks, but there she went again), there really wasnt that much to like about him, except maybe his sense of humor, even though it tended toward the smarty-pants. Oh, and he seemed practical, which she liked. And smart. He did seem really smart. And there was the fact that he had been unexpectedly kind to her. But that was about it as far as she could see, He didnt seem that crazy about her, either, and they really had nothing in common. And (B) even if they did have something in common, which they did not, she really wasnt ready for anything like . . . that. Horoscopes notwithstanding.
Frankly, after years of marriage, she was just now beginning to find herself again (and a few imposter Rebeccas to boot). She did not want to risk losing herself all over again, and men had a way of making her lose herself. No, no, all that had happened was a sexy little okay, mind-blowing thing in the middle of a very bad drunk. It was not the end of the world, and neither was it the start of anything big. It was just... nothing.
And she wasn t unhappy.
There was, however, one thing she could privately admit: (C) Robin was right. She really needed to get laid.
Positive Affirmations of My Life:
Grayson coming home today!!
Bingo bash this week, which mean, at last, I can get that monkey off my back! Yippee!
Survived drunken stupor and bonus! Broke the four year dry spell. Whihc means I can do a couple more years no sweat until I am ready for a relationship. With sex. because a person can do anything for a couple of years if they put their mind to it. (check transformation materials on this theory).
When Rebecca arrived to pick up her son at the designated rendezvous point (a Holiday Inn on the interstate), Bud and Grayson and whats-her-face were already there. Grayson got out of the big Cadillac Escalade and waved, then darted around to the back of the truck. Bud met him there, opened up the doors, lifted out his backpack. And while Grayson struggled to put it on. Bud reached into the back and handed Grayson a fat, wiggling, little black puppy with paws the size of Frisbees.
Hey! Rebecca shouted, marching across the parking lot as Bud gathered the leash and water bowl.
Hi, Mom! Grayson called cheerfully. Look what Candace got me!
Why, how thoughtful of CandyAss! Gray, honey, did you tell Candace that we already have two dogs? she asked, leaning down to kiss his face, which was covered with something very sticky and sweet.
Whats one more? Bud asked matter-of-factly, thrusting a box with biscuits and a water bowl at her. And besides, he wanted the dog.
Really? He wants a horse, too, she said over Graysons head. Are you going to pull one of those out of your truck?
Come on, Rebecca.
Gray wants lots of things he cant have, Bud, she said calmly. You might have at least asked. This means more food and more dog to take care of, and by the look of him, that will not be a cheap proposition, because that thing is not going to grow up to be a dainty little dog!
We named him Tater, Grayson announced. Candace helped me think of it. The puppy reacted to his new name by licking the sticky stuff from Graysons cheek.
How helpful of her, Rebecca said, then glared at Bud.
Would you please stop acting like a princess? Whats one lousy dog? You got a big enough place, and Lord knows you have enough of my money to feed it.
Actually, in hindsight, she did not have nearly as much of his money as she should have gone for.
So I hear youre with Masters, he said, changing the subject and startling her.
What? How did you know that Robin?
He shrugged. Thats a better move for you, really, instead of the work idea. He paused to get something out of the SUV, giving Rebecca time to visualize herself kicking him square in the nuts, martial arts style. You know, Aaron would really like Tom.
Dad? He doesnt like politics or politicians, remember?
I remember. But Masters is different. You should really talk to Aaron about Tom.
What was this? Buds sudden interest in her dads political leanings any leanings was certainly odd, and as he shut the back of the SUV, she had a sudden, sickening thought. Did you have anything to do with Tom calling me in the first place? she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
Wo, Rebecca! I just think its a good move, thats all.
God, what a relief. Shed rather die than take something Bud had set up for her.
Okay, buddy, I have to go, Bud said, running his hand over Graysons unruly top. Candy and I have a long drive to Dallas.
But Dad, when can I come see you and Lucy?
Grayson asked, struggling to hold on to the monster puppy.
Ill call you, Bud said, and then looked at Rebecca. You doing okay? You look too skinny.
Thanks.
He frowned. You sure youre handling all this okay?
All what?
You know, us. Our split.
Bud, please stop patronizing me, Rebecca said evenly. Weve been divorced almost a year. She grabbed the puppy by the scruff of the neck before it wriggled free of Graysons grip.
Dont, Mom! I got him! he complained, and twisted away from her. Tater is my dog!
Okay, see you, said Bud, already striding toward the drivers seat.
Grayson whipped around. Dad! Dad! he screamed. Byyyyyye, Dad!
Bud waved, then disappeared into the Escalade. Grayson stood there, watching Bud take off, speeding out of the parking lot without so much as a backward glance. When the Esplanade had disappeared into traffic, Rebecca put her hand on his shoulder. Come on, sweetie.
Grayson jerked away from her. Im coming, he said, and began stalking toward the Rover as well as he could with the squiggling puppy.
Rebecca tried to talk to him on the way home, but Grayson was in a foul mood, as usual. I had fun with Dad was the only thing she could get out of him about his weekend at the coast. I wish Dad had married Lucy he added petulantly, and Rebecca figured the kid was determined to find a way to hurt her.
His disposition did not improve that evening, either. While Bean took the new addition to their family in stride (if he even noticed), Frank wasnt too pleased, and snapped twice at a very playful Tater. That infuriated Grayson, who, after throwing a tantrum and insisting that Rebecca put Frank out, which she would not, scooped up Tater and marched off to his room, slamming the door behind him.
A half hour later, Rebecca peeked into his room. Grayson
was sprawled on his race car bed, snotty-nosed and red-faced from having cried himself to sleep. Her heart went out to him; what could possibly be so troubling to a five-year-old? She didnt know, but at the moment, Tater, who had already shredded one of Graysons books, was working on a shoe.
Rebecca trotted the pup out into the backyard and handed him over to Frank and Bean for proper training. Well. To Frank, anyway.
The next afternoon, after a trip to the bookstore, where Grayson got a picture book about a family of dogs and Rebecca got new advice books for divorced parents and training puppies, Grayson seemed to be in better spirits, and didnt seem to mind if Frank snapped at Tater occasionally. Bean never seemed to notice Tater at all, which was probably just as well.
With the help of Graysons cranky return, Rebecca was able to push Matt from her mind and focus what was left of her brain on Tom Masterss Bingo Bash. She exchanged what seemed like no less than a thousand e-mails with Francine McDonough, the Silver Panthers president. The plan was simple: The pots would be split between the Silver Panthers Charity Drive (the proceeds to be donated to the charity of the winners choice), and reimbursing the Elks Lodge the expense of the room and food. As the Elks Lodge frequently held their own charitable bingo nights, Rebecca had all the bingo stuff lined up bingo sheets, bingo balls, a bingo ball mixer-upper thing, extra dabbers. And as Grandma was an avid bingo fan, she helped Rebecca line up the most important feature: the bingo caller, who, Grandma said, was the best this side of Louisiana.
Rebecca paid a couple of visits to the Elks Lodge to review the setup, making sure the refreshments and decorations were all in order. She even coaxed Grayson into helping her finger-paint some cute signs to be placed around the bingo room (Tom Masters for Lt. Governor!). She called Tom three times to make sure he understood where and when he should be in attendance, but could only get Gilbert, who assured her Tom was on board and would
be where he needed to be at the appropriate time. She did not, however, make or receive a single call from Big Pants, and frankly, wasnt quite sure what to make of that. On the one hand, she had told himsort ofthat she did not want it to go any further. But after he said what he did, she had thought. .. maybe even hoped a little ... that he might call. Not that she wanted him to call, because she didnt. Really.
So when he did call late the night before the bingo bash -when she was in her silk pajamas, curled up with Surviving Divorce: A Womans Path to Starting Over she wasnt sure if she should be put out with how long it had taken him or just politely pleased that he had called.
Hey, Mork, he said when she answered.
Matt Parrish. Is there a problem? she asked evenly, and God help him if he had really called at this hour about the campaign.
But with a chuckle that was surprisingly reassuring, he said, I was going to ask the same of you.
Why would I have a problem? she asked, pushing her book aside and pulling her knees up under her chin.
God, where do I start? he asked with a laugh as smooth as silk, and Rebecca smiled in spite of herself. Actually, he said, I was just calling to see if youre okay.
That surprised her. Im fine! Why wouldnt I be okay?
I dont know I guess its just that the last time I saw you, you seemed a little ... befuddled.
Befuddled? Rebecca laughed. What sort of word is that?
The best I could think of.
And I suppose you thought I must be befuddled because I left you holding the bag, right?
Wo, Miss Priss, Matt drawled. Because you lost your panties.
An intoxicating heat flooded her face and neck; grinning, Rebecca pushed her hair behind her ear and slid down into the pillows. So... this is like a panties check? she asked softly.
Yeah. Wearing any?
Wouldnt you like to know?
Matt made some sort of guttural sound that was half laugh, half groan. I would. But dont tell me let me imagine. Come on, Mork, imagine with me.
Matt...
Okay, Ill go first. I am imagining you lying there with some pretty and skimpy little thing on, and I imagine youre completely naked underneath
Matt! she exclaimed, laughing.
And youre getting all hot and bothered thinking about me
I am so not doing that, she insisted gaily, and hugged her knees tighter, lest she get too hot and bothered.
Sure youre not. And now your skin is flushed and you feel all warm inside, and youre squirming a little, because all you can think about is when I was kissing you down
MATT! she cried, instantly pushing herself up.
Okay, he said, and added a long and exaggerated sigh. Ill just have to imagine by myself.
Oh? S-so ... do you have some pretty little thing on? And are you, ah ... completely naked underneath?
Darlin, Im just plain ol buck naked, he said confidently. Just me and my enormous and hard
Okay, okay! she all but shouted into the phone. Thanks for calling! she quickly added as the heat spread down to her toes.
Matt laughed low and knowingly. Okay, I can take a hint, believe it or not. So youre okay? he asked once more.
Of course!
Havent signed up for rehab or anything rash like that, right?
Rebecca laughed. Im fine. But really ... thanks for asking. Good night, Matt, she said.
Sweet dreams, Rebecca, he said softly, and clicked off.
But with an image of naked Matt dancing about her brain, it was a while before Rebecca could sleep.
Early the next afternoon, on the day of the Tom Masters Bingo Bash for Charity, Grandma and Grandpa, who had invited themselves to the event, arrived at the lake house in a huge RV.
Grayson, Rebecca, Jo Lynn, and of course, Bean, Frank, and Tater, all came out onto the front porch to watch them as the monster bus rumbled down the gravel road to her house. Grandpa was the first out, clumping off-kilter around the front of the RV in his haste to get at his great-grandson, in tan Sansabelt slacks and a Players polo shirt with a single red stripe across the breast pocket, which, Rebecca thought, was spruced up for Grandpa. Grandma wasnt far behind, wearing tan pants with elastic in the waist that matched her taupe Easy Spirits, a pink knit hen-ley top, and a denim vest that said LETS BINGO! across the back. In addition, Grandma was carrying her bingo bag, which was really a beach bag lined with compartments that looked as if they might hold water bottles to the average Joe, but were actually intended for the brightly colored bingo dabbers. Inside the bag were a variety of tiny stuffed animals that Grandma swore brought her luck while at the very same time complaining that she never won.